Don't Order Dog (53 page)

She crossed her arms and glared at him harshly.
“How was that?”

“That was perfect,” Chilly replied
. “Which means I don’t need to explain just how much power your father entrusted to Chip when he handed him that book. You’re a smart woman, Jeri. You know that everything your father predicted in those pages is coming true. Imagine being handed something that predicted the evolution of the global economy twenty-five years before it happened. Imagine the doors that information would open for you. Christ, the money you could make on Wall Street alone would be in the billions.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette and shook his head. “It would be so easy to abuse that knowledge, to use it for your own selfish ends.”

Chilly paused and tossed his cigarette onto the ground before crushing it under his foot. He then turned and looked at her. “But what if you didn’t?”

“Excuse me?” Jeri asked, taken aback by his stare.

“What if you decided to take that knowledge and use it for good? You know… to protect those things that needed protection
. Or to help regulate those things that were beginning to grow beyond anyone’s control.”

“That sounds great,” Jeri answered sarcastically. “And just how would you do that?”

“By manipulating things from the
inside
,” Chilly replied, his mouth creasing into a grin. “After all, even the world’s largest corporations have their weaknesses. For all their power, they still have one serious vulnerability – and that one vulnerability just happens to be their single greatest asset.”

“Which is?”

“Their
human capital
– the people at the top. Of course, I’m not talking about the executives. The guys in suits will come and go. No, I’m talking about the geniuses with a vision of tomorrow and the scientists sitting in laboratories discovering the next big idea. They’re the ones that really matter. They’re the ones the corporations can’t afford to lose. More importantly, they’re the ones that competing corporations will do anything to get their hands on.”

He paused and gave her a conspiratorial smile.

“And that’s where we come in. Our little agency was created by Chip for one primary purpose – to recruit the world’s top talent. More specifically, we
acquire
some of the more critical personnel within giant multi-national companies – or ‘corporate states’ as your father liked to call them – and
redistribute
them to their smaller rivals. You might say our agency is the business equivalent of Robin Hood. When it comes to human resources, we steal from the rich and give to the poor
.
”

“And how often does
recruit
really mean
kill
?” Jeri demanded.

“Never.”

“Oh really?” she said, shaking her head. “Then what’s your excuse for killing Petronus Energy employees?”

“I don’t need one,” Chilly shrugged. “No Petronus employees have been killed. We just made it look like they were.” He raised a finger to his lips and smiled. “But keep that to yourself. That’s one of our little trade secrets.”

Jeri glared at him in surprise. “You
faked
their deaths?”

“Yes, we did.”

“But why?”

“I said these corporations are vulnerable, not stupid. They know the value of their people better than anyone
– which is why most of their best talent is usually hidden away in hard-to-find facilities or some far corner of the world. That’s why the people we recruit can’t just disappear. It would raise too many eyebrows. Their departures have to be more
definitive –
hence the reason for making everyone believe they’re dead.”

“And exactly how do you do that?”

“The process is always the same,” Chilly replied. “After we’ve identified the recruit, we find a suitable
package
. The package is just a fresh corpse… someone unfortunate enough to have died in the local area that matches the recruit’s sex, height, and basic body type. Once we’ve got a suitable package, we figure out a scenario for falsifying our recruit’s death that looks and feels plausible, like a car accident or some random act of terrorism. Then we put the final touches on the package, put the scenario in play, and, when nobody’s looking–” Chilly looked at her sternly and snapped his finger. “We take them.”

“And these smaller corporations… they pay you to do this?” Jeri asked.

“Yes,” Chilly answered, nodding his head. “Quite a lot in fact.”

“Right, of course they do,” Jeri replied flatly. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t sound very much like recruitment to me. It sounds more like slavery.”

“On the contrary,” Chilly replied, giving her an odd grin. “Imagine a company wanting you so badly they’re willing to blow up half of a city block to get you. Do you really think they’d go to that much trouble without making it worth your while?”

Jeri stared at him suspiciously. “Wait… please don’t tell me that you–”

“We’re not bad people, Jeri,” Chilly interrupted. “Despite everything that might lead you to believe otherwise, we’re not murderers or terrorists. Hell, we’re not even home wreckers. We won’t take a job if the recruit in question has kids or a spouse. And we don’t just take any assignment.”

“What do you mean?” Jeri asked.

“Well, take Petronus for example,” Chilly said as he lit another cigarette from his crumpled pack and gazed out at the sea. “The five people we recruited aren’t just ordinary researchers. All of them are leading experts in the field of alternative energy development.”

“
Unfortunately, what nobody bothered to tell them while they were happily working away in their laboratories is that Petronus has actually been systematically stockpiling their alternative energy discoveries for the sole purpose of keeping the demand – and of course price – for oil at a premium. After all, the company owns roughly forty-three percent of the world’s current untapped oil reserves – and a new alternative energy source could pose a significant threat to the value of all that beautiful crude. So what do they do? They collect all those brilliant ideas from their brightest people and quietly lock them away. Luckily, our five new recruits are going to be heading up research for a corporation that will actually turn their ideas into real-life technologies.”

He turned and looked at Jeri.

“That’s why we took this assignment. Some things are simply too important to be left in the hands of their corporate keepers. Some ideas are too vital to be kept from the world.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Are you starting to understand the true nature of what we’re doing here?”  

Jeri nodded her head. “And then there’s me,” she said somberly. “I was recruited the same way as the others, wasn’t I?”

“Correct.”

“Which means
Joe’s Last Stand Saloon is now a smoking pile of rubble and the rest of the world thinks I’m dead.”

“Correct again.”

“And you’re telling me no one else was killed in all this?”

Chilly looked at her in silence for a moment. “Not by us,” he said quietly.

Jeri suddenly spun on her heels and began walking along the edge of the bluff. She walked slowly, deep in thought, before eventually turning and pacing purposefully back to Chilly.

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth from the beginning? Why didn’t you just ask me to be a part of this?”

“Because that isn’t how this works,” Chilly replied, shaking his head. “Look Jeri, I know exactly how you feel right now. You’re coming into this the same way as the rest of us. None of us were
asked
to do this… none of us. You don’t bring people into an agency like this by asking. There’s too much at stake if someone says no. We’re brought into this brave new world the same way as our clients – without a choice.” He laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “But I promise that once you see what you’ve been brought into, you’ll come to the same conclusion as the rest of us. That there’s nothing else in this world you’d rather be doing.”  

Jeri gave him a sharp look. “And what if I still said no?”

“You won’t.”

“But what if I did?”

Chilly took another drag of his cigarette and shrugged. “Well, since no one’s ever left before, I’m not entirely sure. Most likely you’d just get a nice severance check and a one-way ticket to anywhere in the world. Excluding Arizona of course.
Oh, and a shot of diazepam to erase your memory. But that’s about it.”

Jeri watched as a grin slowly creased is face.

“I’m just kidding, Jeri.”

“Sure,” Jeri replied. “About everything but the diazepam.”

Chilly’s expression suddenly grew serious. “Your father only asked two favors of Chip in his lifetime. The first was to take his book and to do something good with it. The second was to look after his daughter when he knew he was dying. That first favor brought this agency into being, and the second brought you into this agency. If that isn’t a textbook definition of destiny, I don’t know what is.”

He stepped forward and stared intently into Jeri’s amber-colored eyes. “So what do you say?” he asked firmly. “Are you ready to get started?”

Jeri turned and looked out at the shimmering blue water beneath her. The wind had lightened to a gentle, sea-scented breeze and the full warmth of the afternoon sun now engulfed her. A memory of her father suddenly filled her mind, his handsome young face smiling at her as he lay stretched out on rock along a mountainside trail. She closed her eyes and let the memory slowly fade into darkness. The pleading cry of a seagull drifted through the air as the wind teased the locks of her hair. She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes, then turned and faced Chilly.

“I’m ready,” Jeri said assertively. “So when do we begin?”

“Tomorrow,” Chilly answered, glancing wryly at the van in the distance. “We’ve got a retirement party already scheduled for today.”

“Fine. Tomorrow it is,” Jeri replied. She then stepped forward and gave him a calm smile. “By the way,” she said, extending her hand, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Jeri
… Jeri Stone.”

Chilly looked at her curiously for a moment before taking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeri,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. “I’m Chilly.” He quietly leaned towards her, his handsome face easing into a grin. Jeri felt her face suddenly blush with heat as he pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered softly.

“But you can call me Sam.”      

---
The End ---

C
. T. Wente lives in San Diego, California with his wife Linda.
Don’t Order Dog
represents his first full-length fiction novel.

For more information on the author, including upcoming novels,
please visit www.toddwente.com.