A Price for Balancing the Scales Read online

  Maybe it was his youth, maybe it was the trauma of losing his wife and his job, or maybe it was a combination of recent events or his need to feel wanted again, but Carl started to imagine a set of credentials with “Carl Rouse, CIA” emblazoned on the cover. This time with restful hope, Carl drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

  The impact of the plane’s tires hitting the runway startled Carl from sleep. Lester had already pushed up the window blind and was peering out.

  “How does the world look this morning?” asked Carl.

  “It looks like we’re in for a sunny day, one that should make for a good drive to Cologne.”

  “I hope so. And by the way, thanks for the offer to check in with you in the event that things don’t go well for me in Cologne.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope things do go well for you. And, should I not get another chance, I’ve enjoyed having you as a traveling companion.”

  By now the plane had rolled to a stop. Although the announcement over the intercom had reminded passengers to remain in their seats with their safety belts fastened until the overhead lights indicated that they could be undone, the clicking sound of seat belts being unbuckled could be heard all over the plane. Carl had already stood up and popped open the overhead luggage compartment.

  He pulled out Lester’s leather briefcase and placed it on the seat he had occupied. He then retrieved his carry-on backpack. Reaching into his coat pocket, he extracted the paper identifying the rental car agency he was to look for after he claimed his baggage and exited customs. As the passenger line started to move, Carl reached out and shook hands with Lester, wishing him a good day. He then turned to move with the remainder of the passengers toward the exit. Carl did not expect to see Lester again.

  Chapter 4

  There were two raps on the door, and the security chime sounded as the front door was opened. Huck looked at his watch and knew that had to be Cedric. He did not believe that Cedric had ever been late for a meeting in his life. However, he could recall when Cedric was too early for own his funeral. But that was another time, when a funeral was not that far-fetched.

  A voice from downstairs yelled up, “Huck, don’t rush. I’ll just help myself to a cup of coffee.”

  This routine had happened so many times that Huck knew Cedric needed no help in locating the coffee or something to eat. Bouncing down the stairs, Huck said, “Refill my cup, if you don’t mind.”

  Laughingly, Cedric responded, “I’ll refill your cup only if there’s enough for me.”

  “You say that like you don’t know how to brew a pot,” responded Huck with a chuckle.

  Little talk was required, as both men knew what had to be done. Cedric had an expanding file with numerous pictures and a large notebook. His job was to place the pictures in chronological order in the notebook and to be sure they corresponded with the footnotes of Huck’s written report. The notebook and report were factual and convincing evidence that the attorney’s client had a solid case for full custody of the couple’s only child as well as nonpayment of any alimony to which the wife might think she was entitled.

  It documented her barhopping and having affairs with numerous men when she was supposed to be caring for the couple’s daughter. The judge, in his infamous wisdom, thought that allegations alone were not sufficient proof for paternal rights to outweigh maternal rights and accordingly awarded temporary custody of the little girl to the mother pending substantial evidence that she was unfit. What the judge did not know was that evidence to support this was not going to be that hard to uncover.

  By early afternoon, Huck and Cedric had finished the packaging of their product, and it was ready to turn over to the attorney who had hired their services. Cedric looked at Huck and said, “Huck, are you really happy doing this administrative detective crap?”

  Somewhat shocked, Huck replied, “Cedric, I promised Rose that we would avoid any work that might suggest or lead to a hazardous situation.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Cedric, you’re not fully recovered from the injuries you sustained in the homegrown terrorist case we did about a year ago.”

  “This slight limp, which I will have for the rest of my life, is not preventing me from doing what I want to do. We both need some action or we’re going to dry up. Now answer the question.” This time, Cedric’s voice was elevated, and he was venting what he viewed to be a way for the wives to put them out to pasture.

  Also obvious to Huck was that their wives had talked and had concluded that it was time for these two old warriors to spend their remaining days either behind a desk or on the banks of Price Island. “OK, here is your answer. I’m bored to death. But I have a promise to keep.”

  “Have you never heard of stealth actions?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, to keep my promise. I’ll screen our cases for some that may have a little more interest, but we have to minimize our personal actions. If or when things appear to be going beyond our physical capabilities, we’ll coordinate with the proper legal authorities.”

  “I like the words beyond our physical capabilities and coordinate because for me it means that we’ll not terminate our actions. Am I correct?”

  “You are correct, if I can’t define our physical limitations. For now, let’s keep this plan between the two of us. To be perfectly truthful with you, I still don’t want to violate my promise to Rose. You do remember that it was one of the conditions upon which she married me.”

  “Well, now that I have that off my chest, I don’t want you to violate your promise either. I’ll deliver this package to the attorney. We still have fishing plans for Thursday, right?”

  “You’re right. See you then. Hey—be sure to get our check from the attorney. He’s been known to be a little slow on paying for services rendered.”

  As Cedric limped toward the door, he yelled back over his shoulder, “I’ll get the check, but don’t you ever say anything else about my using a cane. I get enough of that from Alice.” Alice was Cedric’s wife.

  When the door had closed, Huck said, “OK, but Alice knows best.”

  Chapter 5

  When Carl entered the autobahn in his late-model BMW rental car, the GPS indicated the distance from Frankfurt to Cologne to be 190 kilometers. The time was 9:55 a.m. At the speed he would be driving, barring any accident on the autobahn, he should arrive in Cologne in sufficient time for lunch prior to his 1:30 p.m. appointment with the human resources director for Da Unternehmen Biedenbach, or as Carl knew it, the Biedenbach Company.

  Shortly after exiting the autobahn for Cologne, Carl spotted a restaurant by the name of Weinhaus Brungs. He soon discovered that he had made a great choice for a good German meal. The beer was cold and the Wiener schnitzel was excellent.

  Back in the BMW, the GPS was set for the street address of the Biedenbach Company.

  Ten minutes later, Carl arrived at the entrance to the company. The security guard asked, in German, for the purpose of Carl’s visit. Carl politely handed the guard his letter from the company and his passport. “I don’t speak German fluently.”

  The guard took Carl’s paperwork and muttered, “Danke dir.” After reading what Carl handed to him, he made a phone call. Smiling at Carl, he returned the passport and letter, and in perfect English, the guard said, “Sir, you may park in any of those spots close to the main entrance.” He then saluted and motioned for Carl to drive through the gate. Although a salute wasn’t necessary, Carl knew that it was customary in Germany for a security guard, and even some greeters, to salute the arriving guest.

  Carl sat in the car for a moment to review the outside of the building. In addition to having what appeared to be a metal fence completely surrounding the structure, Carl saw no windows at the ground level. Above the ground level, all the windows appeared to have metal covering slats. Carl thought, From everything I’ve se
en so far, this could be a maximum-security prison in the States. I can’t imagine what further external security suggestions I could make.

  Upon entering the building and going through a metal detector, Carl presented his letter and passport to the receptionist. After she looked them over she said, “Thank you, sir. If you have no objections, I will give your paperwork to our human resources director, Herr Gerhard, when he comes to get you. For now, please have a seat anywhere.”

  “Thank you,” replied Carl.

  Within a few minutes of sitting down, a well-dressed man came through a door to the right of the receptionist. He appeared to be one who probably had never seen dirt under his fingernails. As he approached Carl with what appeared to be Carl’s passport, he said, “My name is Friedrich Gerhard. You must be Mr. Carl Rouse.”

  Standing up, Carl responded, “I am.”

  “Please follow me to my office, Mr. Rouse.”

  Soon Carl found himself in a very plush office. There has been no expense spared in these furnishings, thought Carl. Dark wood and leather seemed to be the theme. The walls provided a lighter accent, with a few pictures of the German countryside. In one corner was a large and beautifully hand-carved grandfather clock. It caught Carl’s attention because it chimed on the half hour as he entered Herr Gerhard’s inner sanctum. In Carl’s experience the Germans were always punctual, and his appointment was at one thirty.

  Herr Gerhard motioned for Carl to join him at a wooden table to the left of his desk. The interview began with the normal get-to-know-you chitchat. Gerhard wanted to know how Carl had learned about the security position they wished to fill, where he was from in the States, and his security experience. Carl allowed how, as a sniper in Afghanistan, he had provided oversight and surveillance to US and allied forces operating in his area. When it became obvious, from his oversight position, that there was to be a terrorist attack on allied forces, it was his job to take out the terrorist.

  Gerhard abruptly asked, “What do you mean by ‘take out’?”

  Carl replied, “I killed the terrorist.”

  When Gerhard appeared to be shocked at Carl’s short answer, Carl followed up. “With all due respect, Herr Gerhard, that is what one has to do to a terrorist in order to provide the protection required. You should know that if your company hires me as your antiterrorist expert, I would first try to minimize all the company’s vulnerabilities to a terrorist attack, but in the event that there was an attempted attack on this facility, I would take out the attacker…I would try to kill him.”

  “You would not afford him the opportunity to surrender?”

  “If you think that an individual who is willing to blow himself up to accomplish his terrorist mission is going to surrender to a command, you don’t know any of the terrorists I’ve been exposed to. To give the command to surrender is tantamount to telling the terrorist to detonate himself.”

  Herr Gerhard stared at Carl in what best could be described as disbelief.

  “Mr. Rouse, I am not sure I agree with that approach.”

  Carl thought, A German millennial? “If you believe that terrorists are rational people and can be dealt with in a rational manner, I don’t think your company is looking for antiterrorist security.”

  “Well, we were—”

  Carl stood up and looked directly into Herr Gerhard’s eyes. “When you decide whether your company has something you want to protect from a terrorist attack, and you’re sincere about effectively addressing that issue, give me a call. Otherwise, I thank you for the round-trip airfare and regret to have wasted your time.” Holding out his hand, Carl said, “My passport, please. I hope you have a great day.”

  Stunned, Herr Gerhard handed Carl his passport and watched as Carl turned and walked toward the exit to Gerhard’s office.

  When Carl opened the door, he could not resist turning, extending his right fist in the air, and slowly raising his middle finger. “Auf Wiedersehen, Freddie!”

  Walking back to the BMW, Carl thought, I guess I flubbed that interview.

  Chapter 6

  The squealing of the BMW’s tires as they made contact with the autobahn brought Carl back to the reality that he needed to calm down, which gave him a feeling of mixed emotions about how he had departed Herr Gerhard’s office. While he was irritated with Gerhard’s unrealistic attitude toward terrorists, he wasn’t sure now that it had warranted the middle-finger gesture.

  As Carl sped south on the autobahn toward Frankfurt, he dug down into his pocket and pulled out the card Lester Storey had given him. He remembered Lester saying, “If your interview doesn’t work out, you might give me a call.” Carl’s interpretation of those words was that Empire Enterprises might have a position for him.

  Shortly after entering the numbers on Lester’s business card into his cell phone, a voice with a heavy German accent said, “Guten Nachmittag, Empire Enterprises.”

  Carl understood that he had received a “good afternoon” greeting. “This is Carl Rouse. May I speak to Mr. Lester Storey?”

  “One moment, please.”

  “Hello, Carl. How did your interview go?”

  “First, I thank you for remembering me from our flight together. I think my exit from the interview may have guaranteed that I won’t be offered a position. I’m following up on your offer of a possible job.”

  “Great. Here is what I would like for you to do. Come to my office tomorrow morning around nine o’clock. Do you have the directions?”

  “Yes. The GPS will put me directly at your front door.”

  “Good. At that time, my secretary will have you fill out the application paperwork, and I will personally plan to meet with you a little before ten. Will that work for you?”

  “Absolutely. I look forward to seeing you then.”

  By now, Carl was not only calm but also almost joyful. Upon arriving in Frankfurt, he would check into a hotel and prepare for the following morning’s interview with Lester. After their acquaintance during the flight, and given that Lester already knew Carl’s background and was still interested in an interview, Carl became optimistic about the job possibilities. However, he thought, I probably should remember to refer to Lester as Mr. Storey.

  At 8:55 a.m., Carl walked through the doors of the address for Empire Enterprises, which was located in a large brick building. To the right of the entrance was a menu board that identified all the building occupants but without any indication as to the services they provided. Empire Enterprises simply indicated suite 204.

  Farther down the hall was an elevator. Carl pushed the arrow pointing up and waited. The doors opened in a matter of seconds; he entered and pushed the number two button. When the elevator made its quick trip to the second floor and the doors had again opened, he looked up and down the hall. He discovered that the even-numbered suites were to the right.

  Two doors later, he saw the words “Empire Enterprises” painted on a windowless door. Upon entering, immediately in front of him was a blonde middle-aged woman sitting at a desk on which items were meticulously organized. There was a table to his left with papers stacked neatly on it, with one chair in front of the papers.

  The woman’s voice caused Carl to look in her direction. “Mr. Rouse, I presume?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please have a seat at the table and complete all the necessary paperwork. When you have finished, bring the documents to me with your passport. I will then let Mr. Storey know you are here.”

  Approximately forty-five minutes later, Carl had completed one of the most comprehensive applications for a job he had ever seen. As he worked, he was periodically distracted by someone entering the room, speaking briefly with the woman, and then taking a seat in one of the chairs against the opposite wall. He never looked up to see who it might be. His focus was to finish the paperwork so that he could see Lester…or Mr. Storey.

  When
he had finished filling in the blanks and signing his life away, he took the paperwork to the woman. She wrote a large number five at the top. “Please take a seat with the others for now, but do not communicate with any of them.”

  Although that seemed a bit strange, he did learn why he was given the number five. There were four others sitting with their backs to the wall: one Asian, one Middle Easterner, and two whites.

  Carl had not been seated for more than five minutes when the woman at the desk walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Storey will see you now.” She walked with Carl to the door and opened it. “Please go in.”

  When Carl entered, Lester jumped up from behind his desk, a large smile on his face. “It’s good to see you, Carl. I’m so glad you took me up on my offer.”

  Carl replied, “It’s also good to see you again, Lester…I mean Mr. Storey.”

  “Thank you, Carl. For now, until our current relationship is complete, I will ask that you call me Mr. S. At the same time, I will no longer refer to you by your name but will simply call you Number Five. For security reasons, we do not want to refer to each other by name. When the others join us, all will be introduced by the numerical order in which they applied for a position. You are Number Five because you were the fifth person to apply. With that understood, I will call in the others so that I can address you all at once.”

  “Understood,” said Carl as he walked to stand in front of a chair that reflected the number five.

  When all had entered and were standing in front of their chair’s number, Mr. S. said, “Gentlemen, please take a seat.”

  No one spoke as they followed Mr. S.’s instructions.

  Mr. S. continued. “First, I congratulate you for selection to participate in a new government program that includes each of your respective countries. With the exception of Number Five, all applications have received final approval. Number Five’s application was only received today, but I personally know that it will be granted final approval by tomorrow morning. He, like the remainder of you, will have the option to leave after the nonclassified portion of this briefing.”