The
Black Knight Squash Fiction League Match #3 The Loose Strings
The Racketeers
CHAPTER FOUR The Chosen One
by Tammy Mehmed
“Get
in the car, and don’t be stupid,” spoke the man in the black trench
coat with sunglasses, as he nodded to the parked black Audi. The
man had immediately slipped behind Ollie as he walked out of the loft
building. As directed, Ollie slipped into the back seat of the
car and next to an unfamiliar man. The car drove forward, and the
man in the trench disappeared into thin air … last seen walking down
the street.
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“Fuck! What have I done?”
I realize I am so screwed. There sitting before me is a stupid
chair with a typed note from Ollie.
I reach into my trench coat pocket and
pull out my ringing cell. I’m hoping to see Ollie’s name on the
screen, but it is Jean-Luc. “Hayden, we have him. We picked
him up as he was leaving his place. It’s over … it’s all taken
care of. But you, ma chèrie, need a debriefing. Walk out the door and go to your right down the street. I’ll pick you up at the next block.”
“Okay, I understand. I’m on my
way.” I have to admit I am trembling now. I’m in over my
head and now I am worried what Jean-Luc and his team are going to do
with me -- do to me. Sigh.
I head out the door and walk down the
street. As I get to the end of the block, I see a parked black
Audi A8 with tinted windows. I continue to walk, crossing the
street toward the car, when the rear window rolls down and I see
Jean-Luc’s face in the back seat. He doesn’t have to say a
word. I walk toward the car and the door opens. I carefully
peer inside to scope my surroundings. There is just a driver and
Jean-Luc. I get in, but I’m not sure what to expect.
“There is much to discuss, Hayden,”
says Jean-Luc. The car starts to move forward cautiously,
negotiating Saturday traffic. I am very nervous, but Jean-Luc is
so calm. “The matter with Ollie is taken care of,” he
continues.
I interrupt. “I am so sorry
Jean-Luc. I know I made a horrible mistake. I left my phone
on and out in the open and I guess he was just too comfortable with our
relationship or maybe he was already suspicious that we were on to him
before he saw the text – at least I assume he saw the text?” I am
talking very fast now because I am so nervous. I need to settle
down, so I take a deep breath.
Jean Luc uses the opportunity
to start up again, “You’ll be briefed on this back at our office.
Hayden, the people that I work for would like to fine tune your
skills. You have raw talent for this kind of work. Funny,
you remind me of your father.”
I suddenly have a very puzzled look on
my face. “You knew my father?” I ask. Jean-Luc doesn’t miss
a beat and continues talking, “You’ve been working freelance out there
on your own, which is very dangerous work for someone who isn’t
formally trained. We’d like you to work for us.”
I am wondering if my jaw is
dropping. It sure feels like it. This is all so much now.
But Jean-Luc’s face hasn’t changed expression and he’s not giving me
time to get my thoughts together to even speak.
“This was a trial run for us,”
Jean-Luc continues. “And it wasn’t until the end that you lost
control. It was enough for us to see your potential. Proper
training will fix your sloppiness. It was all very real, don’t
get me wrong, but we wanted to get a feel for what you have to offer so
we started you with a simple job. Well, how would you feel about
working covert ops for the CIA?”
I feel a sudden rush come over my
body. This is exactly what I have wanted. There is
something so familiar about Jean-Luc. I have only known him for
four months as he has directed me on this mission, yet, I feel so
connected to him. “Jean-Luc, I’m intrigued and interested, and I
have so many questions – but I definitely must hear more. Please
tell me about my father.”
-------------------
Hayden’s father, Jack Vaughn, was
Jean-Luc’s mentor at the Agency. Jack had talked to Jean-Luc
about how he had been preparing his daughter since she was a
baby. Part of her training actually included experiments that the
Agency was working on in child development and part of her training
came from what Jack thought important. As a child, Hayden was
trained in traditional Chinese martial arts, ballet, squash and
soccer. It was all part of Jack’s plan to make her a physically
well-rounded athlete who had excellent hand-eye coordination, balance,
endurance, mental stamina and poise. He encouraged her to join
the squash team in high school and she excelled. It almost came
too easy for her. She was a naturally strategic player, unlike
her teenage peers.
Hayden had no idea that all the
puzzles and games she played with her dad, both 3D and on paper, were
part of developing her analytical and problem-solving abilities.
Unfortunately, her parents' sudden death in a car accident when she was
in college caused her to veer off track. She managed to graduate,
but began to flounder after graduation and got mixed up in the
gentlemen clubs without her father’s guidance. Squash was the one
thing that kept her head together – so she spent a fair amount of time
at the East Side Club during those days.
Jean-Luc hated watching her in this
lifestyle and had to get her out of that scene. Unbeknownst to
Hayden, he had been keeping a watchful eye on her activities.
Eventually he came up with some busy work projects to get her out of
the club scene so she could get her feet wet in role playing and covert
missions. Jean-Luc was very clever the way he had them presented
to her by Club clients. It was far from being a government
operative, but she was getting paid well and she loved it. Hayden
started fancying herself as a modern “Mata Hari”.
---------------------
The Audi pulled up to an abandoned
warehouse not far from Ollie’s place. The driver used his phone
to open a large door, and the car slid into a dark room which contained
the car perfectly. The warehouse door came down, and then a lift
raised the car up one floor to a garage area which housed multiple
other similar black A8s. They walked into the building through a
series of secured doors requiring fingerprint and retinal scanners,
while Jean-Luc kept his hand on Hayden’s shoulder. Whether it was
to show her comfort, or to insure she didn’t run, she enjoyed the
feeling of security it brought her. They made their way to an
internal conference room with tinted glass walls from floor to ceiling
on one side. Jean-Luc had her sit there and wait alone while he
excused himself. Within moments, a middle-aged,
professionally-dressed woman appeared with a tray of fresh coffee with
all the fixings. The woman merely said “Good afternoon Miss
Vaughn.”
Jean-Luc reappeared about 15 minutes later. The first words out of his mouth were, “Ma chèrie, we’ve decided it’s time you know what your father did for a living.”
Tammy Mehmed
is practically a native San Franciscan having relocated from Michigan
in 1981. By day she is a legal secretary at a large international
law firm; by night and weekend she trains people and their dogs and
competes in canine agility and rally obedience. She first learned
that squash existed in the late 70s from her high school boyfriend and
may have even watched a few matches.
The Loose Strings
The Racketeers 
