The Days of Noah: Book One: Conspiracy Read Free Page A

discuss his task list with other coworkers, not that he had enough details to discuss anyway.
    Everett didn’t work at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia; rather, he worked in a sprawling office park west of Leesburg, Virginia. The offices were leased to the CIA by International Technologies but bore no CIA insignia anywhere. Everett was expected to say he worked for International Tech. His keycard and access badge showed the International Tech logo, which was simply IT. Everett suspected other companies that worked for the intelligence community leased space in the office park, but he was not allowed to talk to any of them, so he would never know.
    The cafeteria was a sterile room in the basement. Too-bright florescent lights reflected off the stark white walls. It felt like a good space for doing experiments on rats. The food wasn’t anything to speak of either, but no restaurants were nearby, and he had only a forty-five-minute lunch break.
    “I’ll take the chicken parmesan, please.” Everett smiled and wondered if the lady serving his food knew she worked in a CIA facility.
    Everett took his plastic plate, grabbed a Styrofoam bowl of salad, and proceeded to the cashier.
    “Everett!” Twenty-eight-year-old Ken Gordon waved his hand.
    Everett joined Ken at his table.
    Ken pointed to Everett’s plate. “What’s that supposed to be?”
    “Chicken parm.”
    Ken nodded and unwrapped a beautiful ham and Swiss on pumpernickel rye.
    “Did your girlfriend make that?” Everett asked.
    “Yeah. You need to settle down and find a woman who will make you lunch so you don’t have to eat that stuff.”
    Everett cut into his lunch. “Dating is tough when you can’t talk about your job. Not that I would know what to say about it anyway. I guess I don’t even know what I’m doing.”
    Ken smiled. “Lisa doesn’t ask about my work, but I know what you mean. I don’t know the purpose of anything I do.”
    Ken and Everett had mastered the art of talking about work without talking about work.
    “It’s not what I had in mind when I was recruited,” Everett said.
    Ken opened his bag of jalapeno, kettle-cooked potato chips. “Yeah, you would’ve made a good Jason Bourne.”
    Everett laughed. “I have to try to catch Jones after lunch.”
    “That guy creeps me out,” Ken said. “Rumor has it that he used to work in the field. His limp is supposedly from a gunshot wound he got in China. It landed him the supervisor position at this facility. And John Jones? There’s no way that’s his real name. Why on earth would you initiate a conversation with him?”
    Everett finished chewing and took a drink from his Evian bottle. “Some credit cards I’m monitoring—oh, I probably shouldn’t say anything.”
    “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’ve learned to suppress my curiosity.”
    The two finished eating and managed to avoid further work-related subjects. After lunch, Everett stopped by Jones’s office. He was still out, so Everett returned to his desk and his work. It was difficult to have a sense of purpose without knowing why he was doing what he was doing.
    Two hours later, Agent John Jones stopped by Everett’s cubicle. “Everett, you wanted to see me?”
    “Yes sir, uh . . . how did you know?” Everett tilted his head.
    “Come on back whenever you’re ready.” Jones walked away without answering.
    Everett grabbed his file and followed Agent Jones back to his large glass-walled office. “May I close the door?”
    Jones pushed his horn-rimmed glasses into a more secure position and raised his open hand.
    Everett looked in suspense, waiting for an answer. After he sensed he wasn’t getting one, he slowly closed the door, giving Agent Jones ample opportunity to stop him if he didn’t want the door closed.
    Jones pushed a button on the side of his desk, and the blinds lowered to cover the glass walls. “How can I help you, Everett?”
    Everett was creeped out. He understood what Ken meant.