The Assignment, page 1

Started this due to a mixture of boredom and frustration...

THE ASSIGNMENT
A short by Truth4Hire

"Jack, I have a call on line three".
-"I´ll take it in my office, thanks".
"Jack here" he answered in his bariton voice.
-"It´s me." Jack froze instantly and fumbled "O...how.. how are you?"
-"Fine. We´re go. Call me back on the secure line."
The caller abruptly ended the connection. Jack placed back his office handset on the receiver, his hand slightly trembling. The implications of those three words were mind-boggling. WE ARE GO. Never would he have expected it would come to this.

"Joanne, no more calls please" he instructed his young but experienced secretary while closing his office door. Once he was sure he would not be disturbed he slowly unbuttoned the top of his Ralph Lauren shirt, exposing a thin steel chain with several keys on it. He took off the chain from his neck and used one of the small security keys on it to open the floor safe just below his desk. He took out a small cellular phone and activated it. The small lcd screen immediatly lit up:

CODE?

He entered the six digits he came to know by heart over the past months:

73523893

There was a small beep, and:

EMP ID?

Slowly and deliberatly he entered the number which was assigned to him:

512-343

After a short pause, the cellular gave off three short beeps while displaying:

WARNING: U.S. GOVERNMENT USE ONLY.
UNAUTHORISED USAGE STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

1> CONNECT
2> ABORT

He pressed [1] and placed the phone on his ear while his brain raced at lightspeed.

"Office.".
-"Extension 813 please".
"Please hold".

After a short pause the familiar voice came on the line. The voice of a person he knew so well but had never met face to face.

"Jack?"
-"Yes."

"OK, listen closely. We are going this fall. Make sure you inform Cole and Fontella. Next meeting will be location Charlie-Niner Monday 06:45 a week from now. Make sure you are there and your alibi is in place for your crew. Are we OK?". "O..." he needed to clear his throat "OK" he said firmly.

The connection went dead instantly. He switched off the device and placed it back into the safe. "My God" he thought to himself. "It is really going to happen...". As his thoughts turned to his 38-year old wife Ann, he knew that he had no choice whatsoever. He remembered just three months ago getting those fine gentlemen in his office with their polite, soft spoken manners, their company ID´s and those documents. Those damned documents proving who they were and that they meant business.

"....Listen Jack - Is it allright if we call you Jack? Great. - What we need from you are a few of your specialists to work with our people on a matter of utmost importance. This operation is highly sensitive and classified top secret for reasons of national security.". -"But why our...".
"Please let me finish". "Your company was selected because you are simply the best in the business, and we need your skills Jack. Your country needs your skills".

"My country needs my skills". He repeated bitterly to himself. The problem is that THEY are not my country. THEY are not representing me or my loyalty to this great nation. Jack sighed as he remembered the brief but intense argument during the second briefing at a secure location somewhere in Virginia. His trusted foreman Steven P. Cole and his crew lead Tony Fontella were there with him as per friendly but explicit request from the unnamed voice on the other end of the line. The bright light of the 50W supersaver bulbs reflected brightly into the small round framed glasses of agent X. Jack called him agent X because "names were not important". According to agent X that is.

"So, we know you are well acquinted with shape charges, and your company has more than ample experience with TH3 right?. Jack hated agent X. He reminded him of a gestapo officer without any sense of humour. And that accent? Definitly not home grown, no sir. Those Weeeez. He actually sounded like a Gestapo officer or even a rabbi. "TH3?" Steve asked with raised eyebrows. "I assume you mean Thermate?". -"That is correct. Thermate.". The three men exchanged brief glances. "Well.. Yes ofcourse. We use it to cut through steel. Nothing beats it for demolition of higher steel framed structures".

"Good. Because we want you to assist in the controlled demolition of the World Trade Centre in New York".

It was as if someone pressed a time freeze button. The three men just sat in their assigned chairs in complete silence for at least 10 seconds before the first reactions came. "The Trade Centre? But w....".

X abruptly waived his arm. "No questions now. All will become clear during this briefing". And clear it became. The arguments were relentlessly hammered into the three men over the next hour..

There was going to be a terrorist attack on the World Trade center.
They want to assure that the attack will result in the destruction of the core buildings of the Trade Centre with minimum or no loss of life.
Ofcourse the buildings will be evacuated first.
Ofcourse they are not murderers and neither were you right?
We just want to ensure that noone gets killed by the terrorists.
What if one of those buildings collapses into another. That would be disasterous right?
All they wanted was something that would wake up America.
A big bang to get funds back to where they belong.
Ofcourse we will rebuild the trade center. It´s well insured don´t worry.
And yes it will be even more beautiful as the current one.
Think about your patriotic duty to your country.
This is an important task.
Your expertise will save lives.

X finally disclosed the details to his numb audience. "-Gentlemen. You are to train and assist nine crews of four of our specialists each to place thermate shape charges in several buildings of the World Trade Centre complex over a period of two weeks". You will work quickly and have complete access to certain areas without interference from security during certain times on certain dates. This is a covert -not an illegal- operation; your government is well aware and in support of this operation, same goes for the owners of the complex. After the operation has completed successfully you will assist with the cleanup of the area, which needs to be swift and discrete.".

"But.. You are INSANE" Steve exclaimed. "You WANT them to succeed just so you can get a stinkin´ BUDGET for defense?". His face had turned a disturbing shade of red, and he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "I´m OUT, forget about it. NO WAY". Agent Y, the friendlier one of the two Jack would say, slowly placed a hand on Steve´s shoulder, pushing him back into his chair. "Mr. Cole" -he spoke soft and deliberate now- "You must understand that this is a request for your cooperation because you are the best in your field. I would urge you to reconsider". While Y spoke those last words X placed down three brown envelopes on the desk in front of the three men. On the front there was just a single typed word: "COLE", "FONTELLA" and "PIERCE". One for each of them.

X continued calmly: "Your level of commitment to this operation will determine the level of safety for everyone. You will volunteer for this operation, and you will keep your mouth shut about it. If we find out you talk to anyone about this outside this room you can rest assured that there will be very, very serious penalties". Agent X stretched his legs and took a breath. "Thank you gentlemen. Our next meeting will be announced soon.". The three men, still in partial state of shock watched the two agents leave, leaving just the guard at the door.

"They cannot make us do this, can they Jack?" Tony whined. "-I would say no, but this whole thing stinks as hell, I can tell you that..". "-Did that jerk just threaten us?". Steve said as he picked up his envelope and opened it. Jack and Tony grabbed theirs. "Pictures. What the..." Jack turned white as a sheet as he recognised instantly the subject of the first picture. In the lower left corner of each picture there was some small digital print. The first one read:

SUBJECT: PIERCE, ANN
LOCATION: PIERCE RESIDENCE.
07/09/01 16:22 HRS

the second one read:

SUBJECT: PIERCE, ANGELA
LOCATION: WILKES PRIMARY SCHOOL, NY
07/10/01 10:03 HRS

These were just taken yesterday... Jack browsed through the envelope which contained 27 pictures. There were ones from his mother in a home for the elderly in Boston. One of his sister who lived in Frankfurt, Germany with her husband and four children. And ofcourse several from his wife and daughters. "The bastards." Steve hissed while going through his own pictures. "They are actually threathening our families. What they gonna do huh? Kill ALL of THEM when we do not cooperate? I don´t believe a goddamned word...". Tony couldn´t speak. He held a picture of his pregnant fiancee in his hands and just stared at it. He seemed on the verge of crying. Jack sighed. "I dunno Steve... But consider this would ya... If these jerks are willing to sacrifice the World Trade Centre for the good of the nation, they are certainly willing to sacrifice a few citizens for the good of the nation... The World Trade Centre for Christ´sakes.".

He sighed. "These are some serious sons of bitches...".

*** TO BE CONTINUED (MAYBE) ***