Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The idea of the agency was concocted in back rooms and think tanks with like-minded people who included military generals, elected officials, bureaucrats, successful business leaders, and motivated citizens.
The country—no, the world—needed a department that answered to no person, party, or special-interest groups.
This agency would work independently for the betterment of the people—all the people.
They’d weed out corruption while fighting social injustices. It was a high-minded objective.
That top-secret status was still the case, despite its growth and development over the last fifty years.
It was important for the founding members of the agency to keep their activities off the public’s and governmental agencies’ radar.
While the agency was funded through governmental diversions, its classified existence was known by relatively few.
This status allowed the agency to do its work without the bureaucracy so often associated with other official departments.
No one from the agency was or would be called to testify before Congress nor had their picture and title on a website. While construction on the original structures began in 1967, the agency didn’t fully bloom into what it was today until the summer of 1972.
America was in crisis with rising inflation, social unrest, and the hugely unpopular Vietnam War.
A monumental scandal was brewing after a nightguard at a D.C.
hotel and affiliated offices named Watergate Complex noticed a door taped open.
There had been a break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters.
The great American experiment was failing.
In 1972, the agency stepped in, puppeteering a series of seemingly unconnected events.
In August of 1972, Americans watched as their president resigned.
Three years later, Saigon, Vietnam, fell.
The agency had grown since its humble beginnings. Today, there were thousands of agents throughout the world. The complex in Montana, where the agency began, was now one of many facilities throughout the country and world, while the agency had connections in all layers of government.
Dennis Holdcraft entered the agency over his desire to fight human trafficking. He knew there had to be more than what he could do as a police officer.
It was Tracy who recommended Dennis. They shared the desire to make a difference.
Her specialty was research. Even in the early 1980s, she was more skilled than most within cybersecurity—decryption and analysis—when it came to getting results.
Not all the members of the agency carried guns.
There were scientific researchers working on medical research that had unnecessarily been defunded.
Agents filled vital roles in humanitarian efforts.
The agents who possessed similar capabilities to Arrow were often shipped around the world, tasked with squelching problems before they got out of control.
An overaggressive dictator.
A terrorist cell.
A rogue warmonger.
There were rumors in Petroleum County about what went on behind the fences and guard shack.
Some people thought it was a prison that housed the worst of the worst. Others said it was a research facility, specializing in infectious diseases.
The local law enforcement personnel were told the facility was under federal jurisdiction.
Most locals only knew that whatever it was had been there for as long as they could remember, and their workers contributed to the economy.
Pretty much, the people of Petroleum County coexisted with what they didn’t know or understand without much thought.
The people from the agency who made it into nearby towns such as Winnett, Grass Range, or Mosby were good-natured enough and didn’t cause a fuss.
Their money was accepted at the local taverns or grocery stores.
Those agency employees swore an oath to never divulge anything about the agency.
When Fletch woke, his first thought was of that oath.
Sitting up, he saw Shelly’s hair fanned over her pillow, appearing more auburn than copper in the dimness.
Tonight, he would break that oath for her.
The information he would share would change her world forever.
Technically, her decision to visit Iron Falls and surprise her father did that.
Denny asked Arrow to take Shelly back to her life. He’d tried that.
Perkins sent a deputy to her house. If Arrow had left her alone, Perkins wouldn’t give up.
The sun was fully set by five thirty as Fletch and Shelly made their way out of the motel room and into the black truck. Tonight, Shelly’s hair was secured in a long braid. She’d said it would be easier to hide it under his stocking cap.
After the incident with the state trooper in Indiana, Arrow had considered getting her hair dye.
He’d almost bought it the first night of their cross-country drive.
But as he held the box, he imagined changing her hair from flaming copper to brown was like extinguishing Shelly’s fire. He put the box back.
“How much longer?” she asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“A little over six hours.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Fletch clenched his jaw, feeling the muscles and tendons pull in his neck. “First, we’re going to stop for coffee. The machine in the hotel looked questionable.” He handed her his stocking cap.
Shelly didn’t argue as she pulled it over her head. “It’s too dark for sunglasses.”
“Just don’t look at the person in the window. Those blue eyes are too pretty to forget.”
Shelly turned toward the window.
“You always turn away from compliments.”
“Because I don’t believe you.”
“You said you trust me.”
She turned back. “To keep me safe. You don’t have to lie. I see myself in the mirror.”
“I’m not lying. You’re beautiful. We can agree that perceived beauty is subjective. However, I’d argue that my opinion is based on empirical evidence. I’ve watched you for years.”
“That’s kind of creepy.”
Fletch couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re right.”
“You say it like you’ve been stalking me.”
“Watching, not stalking. Let me finish about my evidence.”
Although she felt the warming of her cheeks, Michelle nodded.
“When I say you’re beautiful, it’s not only your outward appearance, which is, in fact, attractive. It’s also the person you are, who I thought I knew but didn’t.” He reached over and laid his hand on her denim-clad thigh. “I’m not going to argue about this.”
Shelly looked down at his hand. “I won’t argue.
It’s that I don’t see myself that way. I’m not like the women I write in my books.
They’re all in great shape. They run and exercise.
I detest running. I sit for hours not realizing that time has passed.
” She turned to him and smiled. “And I like snacks. You probably figured that out by the things you bought.”
“The women you write aren’t real. You’re real.”
“But you’re not?”
“We’re getting to that,” Fletch said before he drove up to the screen at the drive-thru and ordered two coffees and two cheeseburgers. As they waited for their food, Fletch searched for the Crime Daily Podcast. “Maybe we’ll learn something.”
To their disappointment, the podcast was a replay from a few days ago.
Once they were back on the road, she asked him again where they were going.
He exhaled. “I want you to listen. You’ll have questions but try to hear me out first.”
She took a sip of her coffee and then removed the lid and blew. “Is this some top-secret operation?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
He watched as her blue eyes widened and waited for her next comment. When it didn’t come, he began. “Remember me telling you that I don’t exist?”
“Is this where I listen or answer?”
Fletch furrowed his brow. “Work with me.”
“I remember. Obviously, you exist.”
“Fletcher Weir died seven years ago. It was declared a military training accident. The helicopter I was in went down.”
“Were you really in an accident?”
“No. Three of my friends were. The flight wasn’t training. It was a special mission. They died. My name was added to the manifest, allowing me to take another position with a different agency.”
“Your family thought you died?” Her voice rippled with emotion.
He shook his head. “Remember, no family. That made me the perfect candidate. I’m also good at what I do.”
“Which is?”
“Whatever I’m told. Until the other night.”
“What is this agency?”
“It doesn’t have a name. We refer to it as the agency.”
“I don’t understand. Is this like the CIA, FBI, or NSA?”
They were now headed northwest on Highway 212.
“Those agencies have specific roles. The CIA focuses on foreign intelligence gathering and covert operations. The FBI focuses on domestic law enforcement and counterintelligence. The National Security Agency concentrates on signals intelligence and cybersecurity. There’s also DIA, NGA, NRO, Coast Guard Intelligence, DHS, and more.
The agency I work for does all of that and more.
We do the jobs that don’t go on the books—no official record.
There are no checks and balances for what we do. ”
“Are you the bad guys or the good guys?”
“We know we’re the good guys.” He scoffed. “Or we’ve been brainwashed into believing what we do is for good.”
“Have you killed people?”
He nodded.
Shelly shook her head.
“Those of us in the agency get things done. Most of us have military or law enforcement backgrounds, but not all. There are agents like me who work independently. We don’t have liabilities, and that allows us to take greater risks, all for the good of humanity.
“There are also agents who function within societal norms, get married, have children, and work real jobs. Hell, they probably coach Little League. They also answer the call when it comes.”
Shelly’s forehead furrowed. “You asked me about my mom. How did you know about her?”
“Mostly from Denny, but Tracy Holdcraft is legend.”
“You’re crazy. My mom was a librarian, not military.”
“The agency isn’t all about brawn. It takes brains. Tracy had those.”
Michelle looked at Fletch as if he had two heads. “You’re saying it was my mother who was involved with the agency, not my dad?”
“They both were.”