The conference room was down a row of cubicles and to his left, and he moved there, not bothering to greet the other avatars working around him. He stepped into the conference room, and saw that his boss, Denny Talbot, was already seated at one end of the table, talking to someone on the floating screen in front of him. Denny waved him in, and Jason stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
"He's here now," his boss was saying. "I'll get back in touch right after we're done here." Denny looked up from the monitor, then stood and offered his hand. "Good to see you again, Jason. How was the downtime?"
Jason shook the offered hand. "Boring," he said. "I really don't need that much of a break between jobs."
"You're not the first agent to tell us that," Denny admitted. "But everything we've learned so far suggests that a successful agent is one who does take a break once in a while." He gestured toward the chairs. "Have a seat."
Jason sat down, marveling again at how real this virtual world seemed. It was computer programming on a level the rest of the world only imagined in science-fiction books and movies. "Do you have an assignment for me?" he asked, stretching his legs beneath the table. "I'm ready to get to work."
Denny picked up a file from a small table behind him. "Indeed," he said, sliding it over. "Straight recon, nothing fancy. Get in, confirm the information, get out and bring it back."
Jason opened the file folder and quickly reviewed the contents, committing them to memory as he read. "Supercavitation?" he asked. "No one has that kind of technology yet."
"Not that we know of," Denny said. "But we've reviewed the source carefully, and at the least, he believes it's the truth."
"So, you want me to find this sub — if it exists — and bring back as much data on it as possible?" Jason asked.
Denny nodded. "The plans, if at all possible. Our source believes that there are forces in Russia who want to bring the Cold War, the arms race, the whole shebang, back into full swing."
Jason considered it, then nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised," he said. "In fact, it wouldn't even be the first time I've heard the sentiment. A lot of people miss Mother Russia, despite her less-than-charitable ways."
"I suppose so," Denny said. "But we can't afford another war — cold, hot or anything in between. If the Russians have developed this sub, we need to find it, get the plans and immediately make it known that we can build them, too. Hopefully, they'll realize how closely we're watching them and focus their efforts elsewhere like food for their people."
"Why me?" Jason asked. "I'm not usually a straight reconnaissance man."
"According to our Intel, they're testing the sub in the Bering Sea. We want you to use the local Inuit villages along the coast up there for cover. You also speak fluent Russian, which makes sending you an even better fit."
Jason glanced through the folder one more time, memorizing the information and calculating what he'd need to accomplish it. "Mission support?" he asked.
"We'll put together an offshore support team by the time you're in place, situate them on an oil barge. Just set up a coordinates beacon somewhere out of the way and within twelve hours, you'll be good to go." Denny tapped an icon and the image of a very attractive woman appeared. "This is Tina Kanut. She's native, knows the area and works for a guide agency up there. We've already arranged for her services."
"Sounds fine," Jason said. "Any other parameters I should know of?"
Denny shook his head. "Nothing critical. Just remember that this is a recon mission, so I'd rather not have a trail of bodies. Get in, get the data and get out. Clean and simple."
"Understood," Jason said. "And if something goes wrong?"
"If you can and there's time, check in with me and we'll decide how to proceed. If not, destroy the sub. That will send a message, too," Denny said.
"Got it," Jason said. "When do I leave?"
"We've got you scheduled on a flight from Minneapolis to Seattle, connecting to Anchorage, tonight," he said. "Your cover documents are being delivered this morning. You'll be going in as an advance man for a geographic-survey team. That should give you a solid reason to be in the villages and along the coast, too."
"That works for me," Jason said. He slid the folder back to Denny and got to his feet. "I'll report in as soon as I've got something solid."
"Just remember that that part of the world is a strange place," his boss replied. "The Russians watch the Bering Sea very carefully and they're always listening, and the Inuit are a people trapped between the need to adapt to the modern world and the desire to cling to their traditions. That's another good reason to send you, Jason. You have a better chance of understanding them, I think, than any of our other agents, and if they can be a help to you, that's a good thing, too."
Jason chuckled dryly. "My mother was Inuit, so I have the blood," he said, "but I'm hardly one of them. I don't believe in family."
"I know," Denny said. "It's one of the reasons we recruited you. Family men get tangled up in personal issues. That doesn't seem to be a problem you have. Still, that doesn't mean you can't use the native people up there if it comes to that."
"I don't imagine it will," Jason replied. "But I'm not above using them to get the job done."
Denny thought about it for a minute, then said, "I know that, too, Jason. I've read your file several times over. You're smart, educated, cold and decisive. It's why you've been so successful and why I think you'll be successful here. That said, beneath the exterior, I imagine that you're as human as the next man. Try not to let the machine take over completely, okay? The best field agents tend to blend your strengths with the ability to be compassionate."
"I'm not a machine," Jason objected, stung a little. "I just don't have much use for other people. They're a burden I don't care to deal with."
"You mean like what happened at the firing range last night?" Denny asked. "You killed one man and injured another."
Jason paused, stunned that his boss knew what happened. "How did you…"
"It's my job to know," Denny said. "And for what it's worth, you did the right thing. We ask our operatives to be ghosts, but there's also a time for doing what's right. That was the choice you faced last night, and you made the right call."
"It won't happen again," Jason said, still trying to wrap his mind around an organization that could know so much about one person so quickly. "I mean…you hired me to be a ghost, so that's what I'll be."
Denny chuckled. "Sooner or later, you'll do the human thing again. I understand why you feel the way you do, why you operate the way you do. Just remember that relaxing once in a while won't hurt you, okay? You are human, after all." He smiled.
"Got it," Jason said. He turned to the door. "I better get a move on if I'm going to be ready to catch that flight."
"Stay safe," Denny said. "And think about what I said, Jason. No man can stand alone forever."
Without looking back, Jason said, "I'll give it some thought, boss." Then he opened the door and slipped out of the room.
All the way back to the log-out screen, he thought about Denny's words. What did they want from him? One minute, he's supposed to be a cold-blooded killer, the next he's supposed to…what? Be a kinder, gentler assassin?
He logged out and put the glasses on the desk, rubbing his eyes to ease the strain. It was ridiculous, he thought. He didn't have time for friends and family. And he didn't have time to deal with any of the feelings associated with those issues today. He had saved Miller because it was the right thing to do, not because of some human bond. Most of the time, there was right and wrong, good and evil. Shades of gray entered into it, but usually that was confined to situations where feelings were involved, where the moralities of a given situation were debatable. He didn't deal too often in those gray areas. His life tended to be black and white and he preferred it that way.