3. Chapter Three
Chapter three
Noble stepped into the air conditioned lounge and spotted Burke sitting at a table by himself in the corner.
Matthew Burke was a Georgia boy who’d played college football before serving his country in the United States Army as a Delta Force operator.
He’d been the one who first tapped Noble for recruitment by CIA.
A lot of water had flowed under the proverbial bridge since then.
Burke had a belly now and iron grey streaks at his temples.
He wore a banana yellow button down with green palm trees that clashed horribly against his black skin, and sipped from a frothy pink concoction with a curly straw.
Noble threaded his way through the dark interior, careful not to smack a thigh against a table edge. He sat down across from Burke and said, “You know locals don’t actually dress like that.”
“Don’t spoil the illusion for me.” Burke signaled a waitress. “How’s Sam? I trust she’s the reason you agreed to this meeting?”
“Sam who?”
The waitress arrived. Noble ordered a turkey club and a coffee.
Burke waited until the waitress left and said, “I happen to know for a fact that you and Ms. Gunn spent the last three days on that old tub of yours, floating at anchor. Give me an update. How’re things going?”
Noble leaned back in his seat and studied Burke. “Why are you so interested?”
“Inquiring minds.”
Noble nodded. “Madeline put you up to it.”
A grin broke across Burke’s face. “Okay, busted. She worries about you, Jake. She was delighted to hear you and Sam are together and ordered me to bring back all the details.”
Burke motioned with his hands, like he was gathering up a blanket. “So, give me the details.”
Noble had to work to suppress a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin.
He was only partially successful. It had been a long time since he’d been happy, really happy.
But the last few months had been some of the happiest of his life.
Sure, he was legally dead and living under an assumed name, but he was with Sam and that’s what mattered.
She flew down to Saint Pete anytime she had a couple of days free.
He said, “The details are none of your concern. Tell Maddie things are going quite well.”
“You know I’m gonna call her as soon as I leave here, right?” Burke asked. “Get all the juicy details.”
In addition to recruiting Noble, Burke had also recruited Samantha as well. She’d been his protégé for several months after she graduated from the Farm.
Noble said, “I seem to be the only person who remembers the term OpSec.”
“Okay, okay.” Burke raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t pry. Just know that Maddie and I are happy for you. For both of you.”
“Tell her I’m happy. Really happy.” The waitress returned with Jake’s food. He picked up the sandwich, took a large bite, and spoke with his mouthful. “Now, there was some mention of work?”
“Down to business.” Burke reached in his pocket and brought out a small manila envelope which he laid on the table.
He settled his big black mitt over the envelope.
“I’m running a private intelligence outfit.
The company is called Global Security Solutions, nice and vague so we don’t attract unwanted attention.
I’m looking to actively expand, bring on new talent.
I’m old to be running around playing the spy.
But if you’re interested, I could find you work.
It won’t be steady, not at first, but I’m working hard to onboard new clients.
What do you say? You’d be doing the same thing you did for Langley, only now you’d work directly for me, no politics. ”
Noble took another bite of his sandwich, put it down, dusted his fingers, and picked up his coffee. “I dunno, Burke. Sounds awful risky.”
“No more risk than you’re used to.”
Noble propped his elbows on the table and sipped the coffee. It was strong and black, just the way he liked it. “Would I be correct in assuming one of your biggest clients happens to be the very same Company you and I used to work for?”
Burke shrugged. “It is what it is.”
It would come as something of a shock to most Americans, but the vast majority of spy work done by the Unites States is not done directly by the CIA.
Anytime the government needed plausible deniability, they hired freelance intelligence outfits to do the dirty work for them, outfits like the one Burke was running.
Burke said, “It’s not like you’re signing a contract, Jake. You can walk away anytime.”
“Pay?”
Burke glanced once at the nearest table to be sure nobody was listening. He held up a thumb and forefinger, rubbing them together. It meant, pay was in the form of cash, and Noble could choose how to report it to the IRS, or not report it at all.
Noble chewed the inside of one cheek. Sam was right. He needed some way to make money. Covert intelligence was about the only thing he knew how to do. And with Burke, he was freelance, which meant he could walk away any time. He took in some air and shrugged. “Why not?”
“Excellent.” Burke pushed the envelope across to him.