MAN FROM TOMORROW

Right now, Martin’s wife didn’t matter to him, as little as he wanted to admit it. He needed to handle whatever it was that the Director wanted of him, and he had to do that now. Martin lifted his head from the desk and stood, wondering how things would have been if he hadn’t received another bomb of stress on top of his already stressful life. It was possible that if the divorce hadn’t come up, he could have improved his dropping performance, rather than worsening it.

Martin’s heart was no longer racing when he left his office, finally able to put his fears away. He knew that to make the best of the cards he was handed; he would need to go with the flow and do what he could. The first step was saving his job. Though, even with this in mind, he expected nothing but the worst.

The hallways of the bureau’s main building were busier than usual that morning. Martin suffered through the act of smiling and greeting his colleagues when he passed, even though he was about to break down. He believed that he tricked them all into believing nothing was the matter; a strange tradition amongst Americans. Even though he grew up with it, there were days where he just wanted to tell people he was having a bad day. Instead, there was a social stigma around making people ‘feel bad’ about your problems. Right.

His thoughts moved back to his meeting with the Director. Assuming they were thinking alike- as they often had in the past- Martin would have plenty of time to get away and breathe for a while. More than anything, he needed a break. Even if he didn’t lose his job in the next twenty minutes, he would put his pride and honor on the line, to get some time off. The thought of needing to beg for such a small thing made his stomach churn.

It wasn’t the first time that morning where Martin became lost in his thoughts. When he came to, he took a step back, slamming into the wall behind him. Confusion overwhelmed him for a moment as he came back to reality, not at first recognizing the tall, oaken doors in front of him. His mind settled when he realized that he was at the Director’s office, having made it there on autopilot. Martin passed through the open doors and moved into the department.

He turned to a corner to find Stella, the woman who had called him a few minutes back asking him to meet the Director. She didn’t notice him at first, as she was scribbling on a paper she had on the desk. She was rather concentrated on doing so. He felt bad about interrupting her, but as he got a little closer, she looked up smiling warmly. He closed the distance between them simultaneously displaying a forced smile and leaned on the desk with his arms crossed.

In the brief lapse of time that he took to reach the desk, the woman looked down at her papers. When she looked back up, her eyes squinted like she’d been disturbed from deep thought. It was a strange thing to Martin, she seemed to have been ready to speak with him moments before. Before she spoke, she opened her mouth and waited, trying to find the words to say it.

“Have you ever had a hunch and didn’t follow through with it?” She asked, touching the cap of her pen to her lips. The question seemed completely out of the blue to Martin but was something he found rather interesting.

“I try not to let the subconscious go to waste,” he said, but then put further thought into it. Wasn’t he doing just the opposite now with his life? He knew for sure that something was up and he was hesitating to act on it. Though, what could he do? That was something else he needed to consider.

“Good. I’ve always thought to do the same, but sometimes what you have to do and what you think you have to do are different things,” she said with another smile.

“I know the feeling,” he said, as the woman got up from her seat. He watched her move to the back of the small room behind the desk, where he could see her sorting through one of the shelves near the door.

At the moment that she was gone, Martin thought about how right the woman was. Unknowingly, she had touched a raw nerve whose implications he did not yet fathom. He would treat every aspect of it with due caution and not let his abilities go to waste. If something seemed wrong to him, likely something was. Martin leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to face his superior, but the time had come. He couldn’t back away now.

The large double doors of the Director’s chamber loomed over him. It taunted him for being afraid of entering the room he’d often dreamt of having for himself. Of course, those dreams seemed like a long shot now. He pushed himself from the wall and approached the doors despite his severe apprehension. Using all of his supply of built-up confidence; he knocked, trying not to make it sound too afraid or desperate. Martin waited for a moment, but there was no immediate response. When he lifted his fist to knock again, he heard his Director mumble acknowledgement from within.

He opened the door and found himself breathless, just as he’d been every other time, he entered the room. Even when he had no hope of having the room to himself, being inside it brought him joy.

The room was large enough to hold well over a hundred people. Both walls on either side of the room were lined with bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling, made of an auburn wood that Martin didn’t know the name of. Black, shiny tiles covered the floor and ceiling, like onyx sheets built to hold up the room together. On the far side of the room was what mattered most, and often took Martin’s breath away.

Behind the small desk where his Director sat was the remaining wall, built solely of glass, making it an enormous window to look out into the city below. If that wasn’t enough, it doubled as a computer screen, and the time, date and temperature were seen on the lower panes of the window.

Martin remained at the door, keeping a hand on the golden handle. He watched the Director type away on his laptop, not at all seeming to be in a rush. His awe of the room never sank, but the joy associated with it did. He took a shaky breath and kept his gaze on the Director, who he hadn’t seen in person in a long time. What he noticed about the man was something he’d never had an opportunity to appreciate.

Even in the rather a short, several week periods where he’d gone without seeing the Director, Martin could see how worn the man was becoming as time passed. Creases to signify his age appeared on his face more prominent than before, and his once slick black hair was beginning to gray. Martin waited there for several minutes in the doorway, but the Director didn’t look away from the laptop sitting in front of him.

“Sir?” Martin asked, reminding his superior of his presence. The man looked up to see him and acknowledge his existence, but then looked back down like he didn’t care. Martin wasn’t sure whether his dismissive attitude was good. It could mean that the Director gave up on him and didn’t care to show him respect, or that the man didn’t really think anything was out of the ordinary. Martin hoped for the latter.

“Come closer. We need to discuss something extremely important,” he said, what felt like hours later, to Martin. The man then pushed his laptop to the side of his desk and folded his hands, finally offering Martin his full and undivided attention.

Martin stepped away from the door and walked further into the office, allowing it to shut behind him. The silence between them was interrupted by the brief boom of the closing door.

“It’s been some time since I last had you in my office,” he chuckled. There was a hesitant pause like the man wasn’t sure where to go from there. Somehow, this eased Martin a little, but it was enough. “Ever since you showed promise as an agent, years back when you were a rookie, I always thought this office would be yours someday. It’s always been impossible to deny your talent., I’m surprised you haven’t taken it from me yet,” he said, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

Martin remained on the other side of the chair sitting in front of the Director’s desk, positive that the man could read the confusion on his face. “Sir… I’m not sure I understand...”

“You’ve always been an excellent agent, Martin, but you’ve… I guess the simplest way of saying this is, you’ve fallen off track. I’m telling you that you could have had my job months ago,” he smirked, his next words to rub it in. “But you messed it up.”

Martin’s heart sank, a fiery spark of rage growing inside him. Was the Director really taunting him? For a moment he saw red, and he clenched his fists, struggling to take a deep breath. He realized then, at the peak of his anger, that anger was exactly what the Director was looking for. The red-hot anger inside him sizzled away, and he managed to take that breath. He was being tested. But for what?

“I know I haven’t been at my best as of late, Director, and there’s no excusing that. I tried to get time off in order to let me sort through everything that’s been happening without being a hindrance to the force, but they have repeatedly rejected me,” Martin said, keeping his voice level.

“Yes…” the man pondered.

“I rejected every single one of your requests for leave of absence myself.” The Director said.

There was a moment where Martin had no words at all, he was that baffled.

“Sir… May I ask why?”

“We couldn’t afford to lose a good man, even temporarily, on our current caseload. Even at your worst, you are still better than most, Martin,” he said.

“I know you intend to ask again for time off, but I will tell you right now that nothing has changed, and that we still need you. Instead, we have something else to discuss.

It’s been decided by my superiors and me that you are being relieved of your current assignments and instead are being given an entirely new SINGLE case to deal with. Alone.”

The emphasis on the words ‘single’ and ‘alone’ was prominent. The Director paused to let that sink in.

“We’ve known from the start that you were more of a lone ranger, though you’ve still done a marvelous job with everything else we’ve thrown at you. The time has now come for you to act alone.”

A ‘we’? Who was the ‘we’? Martin sensed something off about the ‘we’.

Martin let out a breath and then stepped around the chair in front of him, sitting down in the plush seat. He wasn’t sure he was hearing anything right. He came to his Director’s office expecting to be reprimanded, but instead he was being given a solo job. Surely, he was misunderstanding something? When his racing heart settled, and he looked back up at the older man in front of him, he received a nod of approval.

“It is imperative that you know that solo missions are not like those we assign Agents to. You alone are responsible for everything pertaining to this mission; including finding and processing evidence and locating appropriate resources. You won’t have any lackeys to send around and have the dirty work done for you. Not that you’ve ever been that type of man,” he said.

“So… you’re not going to fire me?” Martin asked. He still wasn’t quite ready to let go of the possibility of losing his job. It seemed too good to be true, though the Director had made him a bit hopeful at this point. How wasn’t he dreaming? He must have fallen asleep in his office while waiting and would wake up to find he’d in fact been right.

Not only did Martin not believe he deserved such a mission, but he was also positive that there was no way anyone else could disagree with his thoughts.

The Director laughed a hearty laugh. “No, of course not.” He cleared his throat.

“Martin, we know that things haven’t been so great for you as of late. We can appreciate the fact that you need a break, despite the fact that we are unable to give you one. You’re fine and your position amongst us is fine, though I’m not supposed to tell you that,“. The Director said, looking at Martin from the corner of his eye.

The Director’s decision was apparently taken after a long, deliberate and intense period of thought the previous day. Here was Martin, the man who had solved tough mysteries like the case of the Mayor’s murder. He had even apprehended and single-handedly held out against a gang of Mexican Drug cartels for three whole hours in the siege of Oklahoma. In fact, high on the list of Martin’s achievements was the tracing and apprehending of the notorious Bitcoin Brothers. These Bitcoin Brothers had used cryptocurrency for gun-running and human trafficking. Martin’s actions had enabled the FBI to seize three per cent of the world’s cryptocurrency which the Bitcoin Brothers had amassed.

“Now, there’s something else we need to tell you before we get into the details. Even though we can’t afford to give you time off before and we can’t now, we’re willing to make a compromise,“. There, it was the “We,” again. “Finish this mission as fast as possible, and you can have all the time off you need. Take a well-earned vacation and settle your affairs. Before you get excited, however, Martin, this case Isn’t going to be easy. You’ll find it stimulating- something that will challenge your abilities.

“Giving you this solo case isn’t meant to be an opportunity to prove you’re still capable of being great or that you can work without a team beside you. In fact, we assign you this mission because We think you are capable of it. This mission will require every ounce of your detective capabilities to solve and close. I have absolute faith in your ability, but Martin, we need you to use your talents now, not in a month from now. This case is a high priority, and we need you at your best to solve this before it’s too late. Are we clear?” His Director asked.

“Yes, sir,” Martin nodded. Man! That was a lot of ‘we’ over there. He concealed a curious sigh before finishing. “I’m ready to get to work.”

It was only half a lie, and he could see on the Director’s face that he knew Martin wasn’t quite ready. But Martin wasn’t about to let the man down. He was sure that the Director knew he would give it his very best, as he always did, even when at his worst. Martin was determined to get that time off, even if it meant temporarily getting back in the game and working his ass off.

“Very well, “the Director paused and pressed a button on his desk, the sunlight projecting through the window screen dimming in response. It was time for him to learn about the specifics, about what he actually needed to get done, how much work he had to put in in order to earn that precious alone time.

With the window’s screen dimmed, it was the darkest Martin had ever seen the room. It was the first time he ever saw the screen in action, and though he could see the American flag on the screen, he could also see the scenery beneath it with perfect clarity.

Martin’s focus returned to the Director, who was shuffling papers around on his desk. He opened the bottom drawer, picking out the one he wanted; dropping it on the desk and sliding it toward Martin, who caught it at the edge of the desk and left it in front of him, waiting for an explanation.

“You’ll find all the information you need for this job in that folder,” his Director began. “But to give you an idea of what we’re looking at… Two nights ago, we put the bureau on high alert when a confirmed terrorist entered New York.” The screen behind him changed from the American flag to the mug shot of a man, the top edge of the photo’s border indicating that the man was known as Joseph Cooper.

“What’s he responsible for?” Martin asked. He pushed everything back from his mind, readying himself to let the facts simmer in his thoughts. He put a finger to his lips, examining the picture of the man, seeking to burn the image into his mind. The man looked to be in his mid-thirties with short dark hair and dark eyes. There were no defining features on his face, but Martin found himself interested in the way his cheek and jaw bones curved; he swore that their shape was unusual compared to the typical facial bone structure, but it could have been a trick of the light, though he’d never seen a good photograph used to apprehend someone.

“It’s believed that he conspired with a group responsible for bombings in Texas and New Mexico. In addition, it’s believed that he’s a contact for a variety of other organizations that seek to transport recruits for terrorist activities from the Middle East into America,” he said.

A question lingered in Martin’s mind. Something that made him believe something wasn’t right.

‘Why was this Joseph Cooper only just becoming the high priority the moment he touched down in New York?’

But Martin kept his mouth shut. Likely his Director had nothing to do with it and wouldn’t be able to answer his question, regardless.

“So, he’s a bit of a big shot,” Martin mumbled, pulling the folder from the desk and starting to flip through it. He scanned through the provided information, getting a quick idea of what he was working with. There would be time to go over everything carefully when he was alone. Martin flipped to the page where Joseph’s photograph was paper clipped to, lifting the photo to view what was underneath and scan the rest of the page. Something else on the page caught his eye, and he lifted an eyebrow, looking back to his Director.

“He’s American?”

“Yes, but he’s supposed to have ties with many nations that consider themselves enemies of America. Removing him from the streets could be a leap toward world peace, or at least toward protecting the people within our own borders,” the Director said, folding his hands on the desk.

Martin closed the folder and looked back up at the picture on the big screen behind the Director. The man looked like someone who’d never gotten into a lick of trouble his entire life. In other words, he didn’t fit the typical terrorist profile. The large majority of terrorists always seemed to have something off about them, but from this man, Joseph Cooper, Martin was getting no such vibes. Was it the perfect disguise, or was there something he was missing?

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why am I being assigned this mission instead of Homeland Security or another agent who specializes in taking out terrorists?” Martin asked, eyeing the Director. He was looking for a change in expression that never happened. “Not to say I don’t appreciate the honor of being assigned such a high-profile case, but though my abilities do fall in line with some aspects of this case… terrorists are not something I’ve handled before.” The Director didn’t seem to even miss a beat.

“This case was thoroughly discussed before it was assigned to you. High-profile cases are distributed as soon as possible because depending on what’s on the line, they can take a long time to process and solve. However, this was handled differently. The higher-ups wanted an agent skilled in the detection and this case has a lot of detective work.

You need to find this man- his whereabouts are currently unknown. Hell, for all we know, he might not even be on American soil. And since it involves a matter of high national security, it was agreed that we need to first locate the man and then move into action. So, it was decided to put an individual with the skills necessary to solve on their own. Moreover, don’t think you are alone in the real sense. An army of surveillance specialists is scanning the land with drones, satellites and Supercomputers searching for that man. You are our eyes, ears and brain on the ground.

You’re not lacking anything that will make this any harder for you. You’ve got a good mind, and you know how to use it. This is a sensitive case, Martin, and with your specific set of skills, we expect you to find this man faster than anybody else. Since it’s believed he has many dangerous contacts… well, I’m sure you get the point,” the Director said. “Regardless, that is all you should need to know. Everything else is in the file. You and I both have work to do, now, do we not?”

Martin stood up and saluted the Director, moving towards the door, but he heard the Director clear his throat.

“One last thing, if you don’t mind. All the higher-ups have agreed that Joseph Cooper is to be caught at any cost. Bring him to us dead or alive, whatever it takes to end his threat.”

He said nothing else, and Martin took his leave, intending to walk to his office and contemplate the situation. During the entire walk back, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Neither could he decide whether that feeling stemmed from the case itself, or just the man he was faced with capturing. It was one thing to catch a man, and it was something else to do so without any attempt to preserve their life. Martin would brood over these feelings for the remainder of the day.