Flight of Fancy

Chapter XXXV: MAKING PLANS

Keffler was sitting at the desk in his office, reflecting on what had gone wrong. His career had been progressing perfectly and he was almost at the peak. But now there was a chance of somebody fucking it all up.

Somebody? Or maybe it’s something.

It didn’t really even matter. All that was important that his career progress would take a pounding. And he wouldn’t have that.

No sir.

They had dealt with alien forces before and eventually they would either leave or get destroyed. Nobody stayed around to fuck with human beings.

Maybe we’re not worth the trouble.

Keffler had had experience with many alien encounters and many paranormal phenomena, but this one was frightening even to him. The alien force wasn’t tangible at all. It was almost as if they weren’t even there and something mysterious was disrupting their plans by stealing the energy devices and their prisoners. If he didn’t know any better, he would suspect a prank.

That would be one very elaborate prank.

He’d never seen a prankster that could outsmart him and the entire American law enforcement. Eventually some plan of action would have to be made. That, however, was too important even for him. The order would have to come from up higher. So, waiting was the order of the day, again.

There were plenty of small fires to put out all over the world. Luckily, it was easily handled because it was almost second nature to him, otherwise it would have been a problem. His mind just wasn’t in the game. It kept going back to the big issue, the big picture. There was nothing to be done about it right now, he just couldn’t let it go. He was like a dog with a bone. Once he got it, he wouldn’t let go. His mind was the same. Once a problem presented itself, it would have to be resolved, otherwise his brain would keep obsessing about it.

He was trying to stay concentrated and focus on the situation at hand, which was a small matter in Afghanistan. The solution was very simple and he wrote down the course of action in three easy-to-follow steps. It had taken him two hours to do this. Usually, it would take about twenty minutes tops.

Luckily, I’m the boss.

If he wasn’t the boss, he would probably be fired by now with that level of concentration and lack of results.

As he was putting the paper into the correct folder, to be sent over to the appropriate destinations, his phone rang. He let it ring three times before answering: “Hello.”

There was a pause on the other line before a familiar voice replied: “Regards, Mr. Keffler.”

The voice was instantly recognisable and unmistakable. It was one of the emissaries of his bosses, whoever they were. Keffler waited for the emissary to continue.

“Your superiors would like to arrange for another meeting,” said the mechanical voice.

“That’s not a problem,” replied Keffler. “Name the time and the place.”

“The place would be your headquarters, as usual, the time tomorrow at noon,” replied the emissary. “I expect there will be no difficulties in arranging that.”

Keffler was a bit annoyed at being treated like a child and talked down to, however he knew better than to go against them. He had seen the results of what happened when people tried to go rogue and play by their own rules.

Not a pretty sight. Not at all.

“No problem at all,” said Keffler. “I will be expecting them.”

“Very well, then,” said the emissary. “Until tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow,” was Keffler’s brusque reply.

He hung up the telephone and walked around his office. In a way, it was a good thing. Something was finally moving and things were going to happen. Still, he didn’t like being in a subjugated position to anyone and he hated the feeling he got every time he spoke to either the emissaries or his superiors. He wished he could put his hands around their necks and just squeeze until all the colour drained from their face and their limbs became limp.

That would shut them up.

There was no way in the world he would actually do it, but he liked the fantasy.

He looked outside his window, to the hustle and bustle of the streets below. People were living their lives, completely unaware of what was actually going on, who was directing their lives, manipulating their thoughts and moves, telling them what to buy, eat and believe. Most of them were none the wiser, but there were still a few who liked to think that there was a better way of life.

They’ll be put in their place soon enough.

The sight of this organised chaos calmed Keffler’s thoughts and made him forget about his troubles for at least a moment. The meeting would come soon enough and he would have to face his superiors yet again.

It must be important. Really important.

His bosses never made an appearance unless there was something almost insurmountable in their way. That thought scared Keffler more than the bosses themselves.

Hopefully, they’ll have some sort of plan. I sure as hell don’t.

Keffler didn’t really sleep that night. At breakfast, when his wife asked him if he wanted any eggs, he snapped at her: ‘Do I look like I want any eggs!?’

That had kept her quiet for the duration of his morning, while he was sipping his coffee, trying to jump start his brain. She was lucky that he merely snapped at her. Sometimes, she really was asking for it.

There was simply too much at stake. First, there was the situation with the energy devices and the missing prisoners and now he would have to deal with his bosses.

That’s all I need!

Sometimes, he got bored by everyday aspects of his jobs and many times wished for something more demanding.

Well, here it is! Are you happy now!?

He would gladly eat his words and go back to those easy to handle challenges. This was something that seemed to be beyond everyone’s capabilities. His bosses, though... That was a different matter. Keffler wasn’t exactly sure how deep their resources ran and what they could come up with.

It has to be better than what I came up with. A big fat zero.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t expect him to offer his two cents’ worth. He hadn’t prepared anything, he would merely sit there, nod and implement whatever brilliant solution they came up with.

When he arrived at the office, he told his personal assistant not to bother him unless ‘you know who’ calls. She already knew the drill and acknowledged his request. She also seemed to know his moods better than his wife because she didn’t ask any stupid questions.

Keffler sat at his desk and tried to keep himself occupied. There were hundreds of files that needed his attention. He had been so busy with these energy devices popping up all over the world that he had neglected everything else. All the urgent cases had been dealt with. Still, even the small fires would eventually have to be put out, otherwise they could turn into a proper blaze.

Even though his mind was still wandering to the huge crisis at hand, he managed to get a few cases under his belt and put it into the ‘outgoing’ folder, which would be sent out to teams who would deal with them. These highly trusted teams would then send these ‘solutions’ to individual law enforcement departments and present the situation in a legally acceptable way, one that by-the-book people would never question. That’s how it usually worked. Experience had shown that most agents would do anything you told them to. They were simply there to follow orders. However, there were a few of them who liked to have everything according to the letter of the law. As long as you explained what the law was supposed to mean in that particular instant, they would accept it, but they would never go along with just any order.

As Keffler put down another folder (another easy fix), he looked at his watch.

Almost noon.

It was still a few minutes to go, but he was happy he had spent the time productively, rather than engaged in pointless thoughts about situations that he had no control over. He buttoned up his shirt, which he had undone a bit earlier and re-clipped his tie. Most business men hated clip-on ties, but he couldn’t be bothered with the proper ones. Also, proper ties were a work hazard. You could get choked with it, it could get stuck somewhere. There were several dangerous possibilities and they were also annoying as hell to put on.

He looked at himself in the mirror. The bald man with glasses looking back at him was a bit tired-looking, but other than that, not bad for his age. He didn’t bother with creams and too much perfume. He only put on so much that he didn’t stink of sweat, but not so much that it would overpower the room.

Stupid metrosexuals.

That’s what they called them nowadays. It was funny that he hated them. In a way, their campaigns and commercials created the image of the feminised man. He smiled slightly at the hypocrisy of it all and merely shrugged.

Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

In any case, it was just a fad with men at the moment, which would soon go away. Some people would really do anything if the media tells them to do it. They had done so many experiments with that over the years and most people fell for it.

Hook, line and sinker.

One of the latest he remembered was a combination of the lumberjack and metrosexual. It was a well-groomed man with a check shirt, a beard and possibly even a hat. That one was a real winner.

It was coming to noon and Keffler sat back down, waiting for his personal assistant to tell him that his guests had arrived.

The telephone gave him a slight fright, even though he was expecting the call.

You should have known. Keep it together!

Keffler picked up the receiver, listen for a moment, then merely replied: “Yes, thank you.”

He sat in his chair a bit longer, as if making his guests wait for him, even though that was the last thing on his mind. It was something he’d never admit, but his legs felt a bit wobbly as he tried standing up. Instead of sitting back down, he decided to chance it and walked around the office.

That’s better.

The feeling had returned to his legs and he felt some sort of control return to both his body and mind. There was no more time to lose, so he made his way to the door and after that the secure elevator, which took him to the meeting room with a speed he still had trouble adjusting to. Every time he used the infernal device, it made him feel queasy.

Lucky I didn’t have any breakfast this morning.

As Keffler walked into the meeting room, he imagined he was the picture of composure and dignity, even though inside he was in turmoil. These visits from his bosses would be the death of him.

Or maybe I’ll get used to them.

The last time they were here, it went down pretty well and he was impressed with his own presence of mind and clear-headedness.

Keffler looked around the meeting room, eyeing the three faces of his superiors immediately, surrounded by emissaries on each sides and by security guards, who were standing behind, looking grave and serious, ready for any eventuality.

Keffler stood there for a moment, waiting for them to motion him to sit down. The man with Asian features eventually did. Keffler wandered if he was the leader of the group, or if they even had a leader. The Asian man was sitting in the middle, however the previous time Keffler believed they sat in a different way.

Who cares anyway?

Keffler sat down, just as he was ‘instructed’ to do. It was a matter of protocol with these guys. They were all about respect and rituals.

“You know why we have come here,” said the Asian man. “The matter we had discussed previously, it has still not been resolved.”

Keffler wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a question, fact, or an underhand dig at him. In any case, it was best to keep his mouth shut and listen.

“We have discussed this matter extensively,” continued the Asian man. “We have devised a plan to tackle this eventuality.”

Good.

Keffler was beginning to relax. All he would have to do was implement the plan and be a pawn in their game again. That was how he wanted it. His bosses were still sitting there, staring at Keffler. He wasn’t sure what they were waiting for. Then, the black man spoke: “Despite our best efforts, we believe that loyal employees should be rewarded. Therefore, we are offering you a chance to prove your credentials. If you have a suggestion on how to combat this enemy, we would like to hear it.”

They were all looking at him now. This wasn’t what Keffler was expecting. He hadn’t prepared anything and they were asking him to prove himself. He was panicking and the sweat was starting to ooze out of him now. Either they were giving him a real chance or they were setting him up to fail. Keffler could bet it was the second one. They were obviously displeased with his work and were trying to make him commit a mistake or make himself look stupid.

Whatever I say, I’ll look stupid.

They were still waiting for him to make any sort of comment, but he had nothing. Even before their first meeting, Keffler had thought about this and couldn’t come up with anything sensible, besides arresting anyone remotely close to the suspects. That, however, would cause way too much publicity and unwanted attention.

How could they justify it?

As their eyes drilled into him, Keffler decided that he might as well tell the truth. The game was over anyway and they could do with him as they chose. He would probably just disappear one day, maybe on his drive home, to be replaced by someone else, some other go-getter, maybe younger and more assertive, with fresher ideas.

“To be honest,” said Keffler finally, “I have absolutely no idea how to deal with this. This is something I’ve never seen before and it’s beyond the capabilities of our technology and resources. If this enemy decides to destroy us, we are completely powerless to stand in the way. The way I see it, just about the only thing we could do is arrest anyone connected to the suspects that have escaped or disappeared or God knows what happened to them. The publicity it would cause would be rather annoying, but I think that with the right planted stories, we could just about get away with it. It wouldn’t be pretty. It would be quite sloppy, actually, but that’s the only possibility I can think of.”

As Keffler stopped talking, his bosses continued looking at him and he didn’t know where he stood with them. Were they pleased, annoyed? Anything was possible.

“We were expecting something different, Mr. Keffler,” said the white man, the last of their delegation. “We were hoping for something different. What you have presented us is very similar to the plan we have devised. Thus it appears there is really only one course of action, which you have just explained. We have a more detailed version ready for you, but essentially it appears that we are on the same page.”

This was as close to a compliment his bosses gave and Keffler chose to accept it.

“So, we’re actually doing this?” asked Keffler.

“It would appear we have no other choice,” replied the Asian man. “We could very well be unsuccessful in luring our enemy out into the open, however it is our duty to try and stop them. Humanity depends on our ability to protect it and ensure its future.”

Keffler nodded and took a folder, which one of the emissaries handed him.

“Study this folder,” said the black man, “and implement it as soon as possible, with as much efficiency as you can muster. Remember, the future of all of us is at stake.”

With that, the delegation walked out of the room, leaving Keffler in the large meeting room on his own. What they had planned would hit humanity hard. They would touch many nerves and ruffle many feathers, but if they were successful and efficient, they could eventually prevail. A daunting task awaited.