I do that deliberately so my chapters will read like potato chips. One after the other and hard to stop.
Crime, Thrillers & Mystery / American Jihad Ch 4 The CIA
Chapter 4
The CIA—Dwight & Phil
“Mr. Twilly.”
Dwight Twilly looked up to see Stan Garcia gazing down at him. Stan, wearing a brown suit and a benign smile, held out a slim manila folder. “Did you see this?”
“Morning sir,” said Dwight. He opened the file and glanced at it, scanning the words quickly. ‘Assassination in Iraq. Suspected Terrorist shot by unknown assailant.’ His eyes rose over the paper to his boss, who stood waiting, sipping from a Starbuck’s coffee cup. Stan always bought a Cappuccino from outside rather than risk the usually horrible coffee from the commissary.
Dwight Twilly was twenty-six years old, medium build and average appearance, the type of person actively sought by the CIA as anonymous drones for the endless office work. Now in his fourth year at the agency, he’d been hired straight out of his senior year at Brookhaven college, a political science major with a minor in aberrant psychology. He had short wheat straw blond hair, wore gold-framed glasses and bow ties, generally considered aberrant psychology by themselves. Dwight thought they made him stand out from the crowd, a necessary trait given his fierce desire to get ahead.
“Some guy’s killed a terrorist.” He read further but the name Mustaqa Al-Amad meant nothing to him. “One of ours?”
“Nope.” Stan, normally as cheerful as a junkyard dog, smiled happily. “Not one of ours.” He seemed to be waiting for Dwight to get the joke.
Which Dwight didn’t. He shook his head, reread the note, “long range…high powered rifle…blew the man’s head half off.” Dwight flashed on that and shuddered. “Iraqi police searching,” How hard, he wondered? “No arrests made, terrorists vow revenge. Yada, yada.”
Stan’s smug expression annoyed him. Since joining the firm Stan Garcia had been Dwight’s personal devil. As his superior he controlled the assignments with the best ones always going to the fawning hangers on that crowded his office at lunch and after work. He reminded Dwight of a Sergeant he’d had in the Army—overweight, over-convinced of his worth and over-protective of his position. Dwight didn’t go as far as hating the man, but he certainly didn’t like him.
He shrugged and held up the notice. Anything that made Stan this jovial couldn’t possibly be good news for Dwight Twilly. “So what?” he asked.
Smiling like he’d accidentally gotten cherry filling in his plain donut, Stan said, “It’s your new assignment.” Then he walked away, head bobbing in satisfaction. Dwight swore he even heard a small chuckle. The jerk.
Annoyed, as always--why did there have to be politics? He lowered his head and breathed deeply, then rolled his shoulders as if his neck had broken. Nothing worked, as usual. He slipped open the drawer of his ancient green metal desk and pulled out the aspirin, generic brand, 500 for eight dollars. Whether this was a comment on his frugality--and Dwight avoided spending like a politician avoided ethics—or the stress of his job he didn’t pause to consider. He emptied three into his palm, slapped them into his mouth and swallowed them with cold coffee.
When he opened his eyes Phil Motto stood watching him, a sad smile of pity on his oriental features.
“What?” Dwight pinched the bridge of his nose to dislodge the headache. “Sorry,” he amended, apologizing for his tone. Phil, one of the few friends he had at the agency, was half Hawaiian, half Cherokee Indian; hired, no doubt, exactly for that combination. The CIA was as vulnerable to affirmative action hiring as any other company, but were shockingly transparent about it, double-dipping whenever possible to meet ethnic guidelines. That Phil was a good man and excellent agent didn’t matter much. He filled out the quota.
“He’s a piece of work,” said Phil, looking down the hall at Stan who’d paused to share a joke with one of his favorites.
“He’s a piece of something,” agreed Dwight. He smiled wanly. “Is it that obvious?”
In answer Phil picked up the aspirin bottle and shook it. A faint rattle made by very few pills made him smile. “Five hundred? You take these things like candy. Besides, I’m a trained agent; I see these things.”
“Okay, it’s that obvious. Phil, what am I gonna do?”
“What I’ve been telling you all along—grab a case and run with it. Show these assholes what you can do. Win one for the Gipper, Dwight. Give it the old college try…”
“Shut up, will you?”
“…a hundred and ten percent…”
“Please shut up.”
“Points on the board.” He picked up the file and began reading it. “ There’s no “I”…in …team.” His eyes scanned the pages, “but there is…in…what is this shit?”
“My new assignment,” said Dwight, bitterly.
“But, you can’t make a career out of this. A sniper in Iraq? There’s gotta be, what? About a million of them?” He read aloud, ‘suspect, according to eyewitness accounts, is local, perhaps Arab descent.’ “You’re being assigned to find an Iraqi--in Iraq? One who’s shooting terrorists, which, I’ll admit is a novel--though pleasant—turn of events. What’s this got to do with us?”
“Exactly,” agreed Dwight. He eyed the aspirin bottle. Too soon? Probably. “But that’s the kind of case I get from our esteemed department head.”
“What’d you do to get on his shit list anyway?”
“Nothing.” Dwight considered his short time with the agency; less than a year. He hadn’t had a row with his boss, hadn’t insulted or denigrated him; truly, Dwight was at a loss. Literally, since his career seemed doomed to the toilet from the start.
“How do you get good assignments?” he asked.
“Talent,” said Phil immediately. “And excellent skills.”
“Bullshit.”
“Exactly. And I’m the right person for the job.”
“Meaning?”
“Half Hawaiian, half Cherokee. They lose me they have to hire a black gay midget or,” he shuddered, “a woman.”
Dwight snorted. He couldn’t help it. Despite the obvious prejudice, Phil just kept doing whatever he wanted, making the system work for him. Dwight had never met a happier man.
“Seriously, though,” Phil said. “You’ve got to play a hand eventually. Might as well be this one.”
“But there’s nothing there.”
“So make something.”
“How? They’re killing each other. What else is new?”
“I don’t know. Lemme think.” Phil looked over the file, frowning at it as if it offended him. “Not much to go on, is there?” He chewed his lower lip. With his slanted hooded eyes and thick black hair, cut in a short style approved by the agency, he looked like Jerry Lewis trying to look like Fu-Manchu. “Not much at all.” He closed the folder. “There’s nothing here.”
“Like I said.”
“So, we’ll have to go to plan B.”
“There’s a plan B?” Dwight was astounded. He opened the slim file and ruffled the papers as if trying to find it.
“Plan B. Lying.”
“Lying?”
“Lying. Plan B always involves lying.”
“How?” asked Dwight. “How do you lie about a CIA assignment?”
“Well…” Phil thought for moment then leaned forward. He beckoned with his finger and Dwight rose in his seat to get closer. “What if the sniper,” Phil whispered, “is an American?”
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EllePepper reviewed Version 1 -
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A very novel idea. Pardon the pun. So the agent is about to ‘construct’ a history of the real man… my poor brain takes that in many tantalizing directions.
Work on your dialogue just a little. You are almost there but they just don’t quite ring true. You almost veer off into ‘talking heads syndrome’ in other words, you go from one to the other and back without really making them interact. Play with the rhythm just a little and it will sound more real.
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Prei reviewed Version 1 -
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Best chapter by far! Everything in this story as led up to something good, and this is that something good! I am rather interested to see how things go with this “lie” that we as readers know to be the truth. It’s one of those “oh, man, what happens next??” type of feelings. I’m loving this chapter. I’m loving it completely!
BrianA reviewed Version 1 -
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Re your notes: Humour is hard to engineer – here you have semi-bumbling, `office goings on detached from real life’ ie previous chapters established – which is good. Wouldn’t try and force humour too much. In contrast to previous chapters this is good contrast. And Phil’s last comment points up irony embedded humour.
There is a disruption here re pov. In previous chapters you’ve managed to avoid. Suugest – description of Dwight be moved to Stan looking at him, so put before `Mr Twiilly’ – then as if Stan observing him before speaks. Is a derisive description anyway. So `Stan supposed/he had an idea Dwight thought they made him stand out from the crowd’ means `a necessary trait etc’ would have to go elsewhere.
`re-read’
`Stan, (normally) as cheerful as a junkyard dog, smiled happily. – `normally’ denotes otherwise context so not required here.
`He seemed to be waiting for Dwight to get the joke.
Which Dwight didn’t.’ – who is the comment from? The word `seemed’ denotes observation by someone – but not Stan and not Dwight – suggest omit `seemed to be’ – and make `waited’ then Stans thoughts. – consistent perhaps with Stan’s opinion of Dwight as `thick’.
New paragraph: `Dwight (He) shook his head,…’
`searching(,) . . .” – Ellipsis is three dots spaced ` . . . ‘
`(Dwight) He didn’t go…’ – after identified pov switch to pronoun use – better for thoughts as use of name conjours `telling’
`…good news for Dwight Twilly.’ – here referring to himself by name so would use single inverted commas – removes confusion.
`Annoyed, as …be politics? – this struck me as disruptive – wasn’t sure if talking about assignment or `office’ politics. See need to be more expansive or omit.
`Nothing worked, as usual.’ – unclear what he is referring to here. Possibly headache? If so a bit ahead of yourself.
`…he didn’t pause to consider.’ – someone does? The author to me. This whole sentence is `teling’ – suggest try and avoid & make Dwight’s thoughts, consideration.
`(Literally, since) (h)His career’ –suggest lose this – start new sentence or combine with previous ie `…loss – his career…’
“Half Hawaiian, half Cherokee….’ Thought because Phil says this and the rest perhaps don’t need Dwights description and explanation earlier – in a way makes it redundant – same info being repeated. Reader will catch on.
`..papers (as if) trying…’ – a bit `controlled’ by narrator – suggest either omit and or omit all from `papers’. Let reader think.
Good work – hope to read more in due course.
NunieWeb reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a good chapter. I am hooked. This one definately flows from the others. I really like the last sentence.
But, and I am sorry to keep harping on this, I thought it was too short for a chapter, 3 pages long, or 6 in book fold. You got me, but I flying thru the story too fast. Your writing is good, don’t short change yourself.
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