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  • The Not so Secret Agent Ch. 01

The Not so Secret Agent Ch. 01

Author's note: This story is set in the fictional country of Upper Danubia. Those unfamiliar with Danubia might want to check out EC's excellent novels first since those are the original works my story is based on. My characters are original but nearly everything else was borrowed from EC's fiction (caligula97236).

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Chapter 1: Information Bandits

Arthur Liggett had hot sweaty feet; blame the muggy Louisiana air that showed up a month early. He flopped back in his supervisor's expensive new office chair. It was so soft and comfortable; no wonder Gary didn't let anyone else sit in it. Arthur yanked off his work boots, threw his wet socks on top of Gary's desk and then he stretched out, letting the cold dry air from the floor vent blow between his toes. There was simply nothing better than air conditioning.

Arthur fidgeted constantly as he waited for the diagnostic to finish. There was nothing left to do but stare at a computer screen. The software's progress bar seemed stuck at 75%.

He went to the bathroom sink to wash the sweat off his face. His reflection made him smirk; his hardhat had left weird globe-like indentions on his head. Arthur wet his face and leaned toward the mirror. His features were sharp; with a narrow nose, dark blue eyes, and a thin straight mouth. To some people, his resting facial expression seemed aloof or playful. Some suspicious people even claimed that Arthur Liggett looked like he was always up to something.

His co-workers had left work at five-thirty; just Arthur and the crickets stayed late. For some reason there were always black field crickets loose in the lab; chirping in shaded spaces behind desks, printers, and filing cabinets.

The computer beeped. Arthur made sure the install was complete and the network was connected; then he clicked shutdown. The office phone rang.

"Lusty Lady's Escort Service," Arthur's face lit up mischievously: "This is Gary, may I help you?"

There was silence for a couple seconds, and then a man sighed. "Really, Arthur... an escort service?" The man sighed again in a tired way. "I'm at my office, come and see me." He hung up the phone before Arthur could respond.

Arthur grabbed his boots and stepped out the back door at the end of the hall. A skinny reddish brown beagle stood ten paces away. The dog looked at him warily then sat to scratch at its neck. Arthur went back inside and turned left into the employee break room.

He searched the refrigerator. On the top rack there was a white Styrofoam container. It had 'Gary' written on the top and underlined twice in red marker. Arthur peeked inside and found something that resembled meatloaf. He put that one on the table and then he found another container that said: 'Kosher' on top. Uncertain about the dog's religious beliefs, Arthur grabbed it too and headed outside.

He whistled and the stray came close, licking its lips and wetting its nose. Arthur opened the trays on the sidewalk and watched the dog eat his co-worker's food. He smiled; it felt good to be so generous and compassionate. After the dog washed the Styrofoam clean Arthur put the trays back in the refrigerator and headed toward the white Chevy in the gravel parking lot.

He threw his hardhat in the floorboard of the company pickup truck and drove across the dirt parking lot, between a row of trailers and metal sheds. He slowed at the intersection. Flatbed trucks with heavy loads of black drill tubes and service trucks hauling industrial sized generators and gas welding equipment set lined up to either side, mostly blocking the view.

Half a mile down a two lane paved road, he pulled off at the entrance to another fenced complex. Arthur stopped at the gatehouse and waved his ID card. The scrappy new security guard insisted on examining the laminated photo ID up close, she looked at the card; then at him.

"Thank you Mr. Liggett." She said. "Sorry to stop you but we're having to step up security; there've been some theft issues reported recently."

"Is that right?" Arthur took back his ID.

"Mmm hmm... Yes we have," she complained, "and then on top of that we've had animal control up here twice this week... I think somebody's been feeding stray animals."

Arthur shook his head. "Some people are completely irresponsible. I'll keep my eyes open ma'am and if I see anything suspicious I'll be sure to let you know."

"Thanks hun," she said. "How late you work anyway?"

"Until Mr. Neal says I'm done, I guess. I have some important results to give him, he hasn't left yet has he?"

"No hun, that man works late bout every night," She wagged a finger. "Now don't let'em turn you into workaholic too."

She waved as he drove toward the office. Arthur parked outside the three-story brick building. Mr. Neal's office was on the first floor, the door was open and his lights were on. Arthur walked in. Mr. Neal leaned back in the world's most comfortable office chair with his mouth open, snoring.

Arthur cleared his throat. Mr. Neal grunted then straightened up in his chair, blinking rapidly. "Uh... um... oh it's you. You... you um... got that network and... uh... stuff ready."

"Good to go," Arthur said. "By the way did you see yesterday's results?"

"Ugh..." Mr. Neal groaned. "I don't want to see them."

"But these are very interesting... I circled the best parts." Arthur put the folded sports page down on his boss's desk.

"Arthur," Mr. Neal grumbled as he smoothed down his neatly trimmed mustache and beard. "You've got to be the luckiest son of a bitch I ever seen... the Astros!" He sighed with disgust: "Fucking Marlins." Mr. Neal put on his reading glasses and sighed as Arthur enjoyed his grief, then he opened a desk drawer. "Fifty?"

"Yep."

"Hmm... here's uh... twenty, pay the rest next week, okay?"

"Sure." Arthur noticed how tired his boss looked; his bloodshot eyes had dark circles underneath. Mr. Neal's normally pressed shirt was wrinkled and his office smelled like he'd started smoking again.

"Have a drink?" Mr. Neal reached for a cabinet drawer. He found a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and slid a shot glass toward Arthur's hand. "I don't have any ice."

"It's a cruel world." Arthur tasted his warm bourbon. Mr. Neal threw his back and poured another.

Mr. Neal glanced down. "You're not wearing shoes."

Arthur shrugged. "My feet got hot."

"Steel-toed boots are required for your job, you know."

"Sure I know," Arthur said. "I've got a pair in the bed of the truck."

Mr. Neal grinned: "You just don't give a shit about what other people say, do you Arthur?"

"Well... I wouldn't put it like that exactly. When I need boots, I wear boots. People don't need to control everything I do, do they?"

Mr. Neal laughed without humor. "Arthur, don't ever get married." Mr. Neal threw back another shot and grimaced. "It's nothing but torture... you give everything to a woman..." He exhaled a short angry breath. "She's living in my house, driving my car, fucking some other guy and I have to pay the bitch alimony... half of everything that I earn goes to child support or her pocket!"

Arthur downed another one and started to feel the warmth in his belly, the comfortable drowsiness of alcohol. Arthur's thoughts drifted as his boss ranted.

"I just need one more shot at it..." His boss said at one point, apparently talking about some big wager he'd lost. Neal was sounding like a gambling addict; Arthur figured that had something to do with his recent divorce.

"But what she doesn't know is that I get money off the books... fuck Liz and her fucking lawyer!"

Arthur wondered if his boss were sober would he still be telling him this.

"Arthur," Neal leaned forward shaking his head. "I just need some help, I need somebody to... you know, help with a little project of mine."

Arthur shrugged: "If the site work's done just send the files to me or Gary, all the logs and stuff..."

"No... It's not for work. I've got this job on the side."

"You have time for two jobs?"

"Well... it doesn't take much time really. There's a businessman who... pays me for information from time to time. He's big in the futures markets. There's a new play in Eastern Europe they need help with."

"Eastern Europe?" Arthur exclaimed in surprise; his office dwelling boss always seemed to rely on other people's technical skills. "No offense, Mr. Neal but what do you know about oil fields in Europe?"

"Not a thing, but I don't need to. They just want some files accessed." Mr. Neal shook his head. "But it's just been so long since I've done that kind of thing... I've been reading manuals and trying to figure it out but I don't know... computers really aren't my thing."

"What software?"

"CR... uh... what is it?"

Arthur guessed: "The CRS suite?"

"Uh... yeah, I think so."

"4.3 or the new one?"

"Ah, hell I don't know," Mr. Neal sighed in an exhausted way. "I'm not much of a tech guy."

Arthur shrugged. "I could give you some pointers, I guess."

"I have to be over there Tuesday."

"This upcoming Tuesday?" Arthur cringed. "I don't know, I mean, I do this all the time and it took me over a week to... uh, wait a second. It is... the English version, right?"

Mr. Neal held his head in both hands. "Oh god..." He closed his eyes for a long time.

"So they can just hire someone else, right?" Arthur shrugged. "I mean really, it's pretty ridiculous to hire you to go all the way to Europe just to copy some files."

Mr. Neal exhaled a breath he'd been holding. "No, I said I could do this... I need this payment, I owe a lot of money Arthur."

"Hmm..." Arthur put his glass down on the desk. "This all sounds like the plot of a bad gangster movie." Arthur stood up, smirking. "Thanks for the drink Mr. Neal but I think I'm going to get out of here before some wise guys come by to whack you."

"Damn it, Arthur, just sit down... I thought you'd be at least a little sympathetic..."

Arthur took a sharp breath then he nodded slowly. "Oh... I see. You want me to do it..."

Mr. Neal leaned forward in his chair. "What do you say?"

"I don't know what exactly you're trying to get me into but I'm not interested."

Neal glared: "I could fire you."

"About that," Arthur pointed out: "See... you just told me you're selling company secrets." Arthur stepped toward the door. "You're not really going to fire me."

"Listen... I... I'm sorry," Neal looked even more tired and miserable. "I didn't mean it. It's just the stress I'm under. Come on Arthur; help me out. I help you out all the time. Do you know how many complaints Gary's filed about you? I'm the only one that's keeping him from transferring you to some god awful basecamp in Alberta Canada. Do you want to live in Canada?"

"Well, of course not," Arthur said. "No one wants to live in Canada."

"This job will just take two days, that's all."

Arthur grinned. "And how many years in prison?"

"It's not like that... just sit down. Hear me out." Mr. Neal frowned. "Okay... I'll admit it... it's not strictly legal but there's not really much risk either. These businessmen that I'm helping are just trying to do what's right; the world needs energy, Arthur. Between Russia and the Middle East, these state run companies control the market. Private companies, like the one you work for, are being squeezed out. In this case there's a prime target for exploration located in the most backwards country you've ever heard of."

"Oh no..." Arthur feigned horror. "You want to send me to Texas!"

"This is serious! Listen... this little country in Eastern Europe is in completely over their heads but their government won't let any foreign contractors in without agreeing to pay millions up-front. The resources might be worth it or they might not. As you could imagine, those companies don't want to go in blind, they need information real bad."

Arthur shrugged: "So just pay some nerd in Backwardistan to get the files for you. Give'em a goat or a virgin or... how about a virgin goat?"

Neal scoffed: "They won't help; that's the problem! They're completely unreasonable. Arthur, if we could just get a copy of their data it would be better for everyone."

"Everyone, meaning you and your buddies?" Arthur turned to leave.

"Listen, you'd be helping the people in that country too. There's no way they can capitalize on the full potential of their resources without modern technology, and we have that, so everyone wins."

Arthur took a step toward the door, ready to leave. "I think I'll pass."

Mr. Neal stood. "You'll get money for the job and... um... I can get you a twenty percent pay raise next year, and two weeks paid vacation."

Arthur laughed: "Just how desperate do you think I am for a vacation?"

Mr. Neal grimaced: "And twelve thousand dollars."

Arthur stopped. "Up front? Twelve thousand dollars cash? Hmm... wait... I thought the ex had all your money."

"I've got some put away at my house."

Arthur scratched at the back of his head, thought about it and then sat down again. It wouldn't hurt to hear the details. "So where is this mystery oil field anyway?"

Mr. Neal tapped on his glass nervously, pausing a long while, and then he leaned forward and whispered: "Arthur, have you ever heard of a country called Upper Danubia?"

---------

He felt the nose of the plane dip; heard the pilot talking to the tower. Arthur looked out the window as the plane broke through a thin layer of clouds. It was still two hours before dawn. A large river meandered below: a black rope through a rough gray landscape of treetops. The plane banked steeply and to the south. Arthur could make out the lights of a sizeable city. Danube City, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia.

Arthur tried to steady his nerves, he could hardly believe he was actually doing this, but it was thrilling. And lucrative, he had Mr. Neal's twelve thousand dollars buried in his apartment's freezer now. Arthur also had five thousand dollars in his pocket and would soon get another five. It was an exceptionally exhilarating and terrifying feeling.

But his new employer made his skin crawl; Arthur would be glad to part company with that man at the end of the day. This businessman had been waiting inside a chartered plane in Berlin. When Arthur climbed aboard the man introduced himself as Peter Rumak. Rumak wore a pale gray business suit that matched his eyes. He had some gray mixing into his brown hair but Rumak seemed outwardly strong and fit.

Rumak's manner was imperious and arrogant; he had just thrown the envelope of cash down at Arthur's feet and made him pick his payment up off the floor, perhaps to make the point of who was in charge. Arthur wasn't sure if Mr. Rumak's accent was German or Russian, but the man's English was perfectly understandable, though when Rumak spoke it was only to give orders.

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The train ride east was three times longer than the flight. There was a stop at a town about half an hour from Danube City. At one point Arthur looked out the window and saw something shocking: inside the busy train station there were two naked guys carrying luggage, right in the middle of the station busy with morning commuters.

Arthur turned to his new employer, who had the row seat beside him. "Mr. Rumak... look at that!" Arthur snickered. "There are two naked dudes standing right out there! What the hell?"

Rumak glanced up casually, said something in a foreign language and then focused on Arthur. "I do not pay you for conversation," he said. "Study your documents and be silent. You will not speak unless I tell you to speak."

Arthur was getting tired of his new employer's declarative sentences but considering the money that Rumak offered; Arthur figured he could put up with it for a day.

The train slowed considerably through the rugged mountainous stretch. Rumak insisted that Arthur spend the three-hour journey studying technical reports. Arthur thought it was ridiculous, all he really needed was access to the computers, he didn't need to know the whole natural history of Danubia. Regardless, he had little else to do so he read every document thrice by the time they made it to Rika Chorna.

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The Rika Chorna train station was packed, lines of commuters held their tickets waiting to board. Rumak picked up a black briefcase from the luggage cart. It was strange; Arthur couldn't recall him having it when he boarded the train. Rumak spoke at least passable Danubian; he stepped outside and hailed a cab. The cab let them off beside a row of office buildings on the East side of the city. Rumak gave the driver what must have been a large tip; the driver waited as Arthur and Rumak stepped out onto the road.

Rumak looked calm and collected. Standing with his briefcase in hand, he turned: "It is but a short distance." He motioned Arthur to walk down the sidewalk beside him. "Why are you here?" Rumak asked the question casually, without turning his head.

"I'm a systems consultant," Arthur swallowed. "I'm here to troubleshoot some reported malfunctions in their network."

"Who do you work for?"

"I do contract work for Krain Networking Systems."

"Who am I?" Rumak asked.

"Peter Rumak, a company manager and my supervisor."

"Good, but do not speak unless asked, only answer what is asked and remember Mr. Liggett; do stay calm."

Easy for him to say, thought Arthur as he followed the man with the black briefcase into the courtyard of a newly constructed complex.

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