Current Guy is a Punk

75.

“That was muy fucking bueno,” she proclaims after scraping the last of the enchilada sauce onto a flour tortilla and savoring every mastication.  I can only agree, raising my coffee mug in ritualistic praise for the farmer, grocer, cook, server and present company. I also see this as an appropriate segue to the pressing matters at hand. We need to have the talk. I take the lead. 

“There is nothing stopping you from accepting the initial deal of immunity and witness protection - should we decide to prosecute the small-potato cadre of criminals we currently have in custody. If we feel, and this is where the second option gains some traction, that we could parlay what we currently have against what we could have, the bigger fish metaphor, we take the risk of endangering countless thousands of innocent civilians as a result of our inability to maximize every bit of actionable intel and this one-shot opportunity to act upon it. This game is won by those who have the technology, expertise, resources and motivation to keep three moves ahead of the competition. Right now we have some cards to play. We have Prince, the guy you obviously reported to and yourself. I cannot force or order you to do something as dangerous as this, but I can try to impress upon you the importance and urgency of it.” I pause for a sip of the industrial strength black coffee, “in a perfect scenario, reading from a powerful and poetic script, at the close of my soliloquy you would ask ‘where do I sign?’ but I get the sense that we might need to come to a philosophical or political agreement before that happens. Am I right in this assumption?”

“You are,” she says in monotone staccato. The sudden tension in the air tells me she is prepping for a fight. 

“Let’s address the who issues first. I am a senior field agent for an off-book counter-terror organization that takes on the sticky issues and scenarios that are either too hot or too politicized for normal governmental agencies to effectively handle. We do the dirty work that keeps America safe. We have no political affiliation and take orders as presented by a consortium of military, geo-political and International governmental allies. We are funded by those who see success as optimal only when peace is the goal. Unfortunately there are those that disagree as witnessed by the troubling current rise in incidents of global terror. We try to keep well under the radar and would rather resolve conflict through diplomacy and democracy than murder and mayhem. Sometimes, as you know, that is not possible. In these instances, we are the last defense.” 

“So you aren’t FBI or CIA?” she asks.

“No, although there are situations where we cooperate and assist each other. We also work closely with the Pentagon and the various service agencies, mainly Navy and Air Force. We also have a Homeland Security liaison and access to a network of field agents In several global hot spots. In popular jargon some might call us Black Ops mercenaries. That is how I came to meet you Ms Satriano, because The Axis was planning a terrorist strike against American citizens on US soil. We are well equipped to handle such matters, and my job was to stop your group from carrying out its primary objective. I will leave it to you to judge the results.”

“So while you claim no official affiliation with the US government, you do their bidding and dirty work?” 

“Yes, there are situations where we are called upon to fight the good fight.” I try. 

“The good fight?” she counters, “like fostering Native American genocide, funding insurgencies and overthrowing foreign governments to establish puppet leaderships and exploit national resources? Like murdering entire villages, dropping fucking jellied gasoline on civilian women and children, and like the current administration's preoccupation with nationalism, racism and corruption? Like conspiring to fly jets into buildings? Like allowing oil companies to pollute the entire fucking planet? Are THOSE good fights?” she cries.

“No. There is no denying that we have blood on our hands and several skeletons in the closet, we have made mistakes but what we can do at this juncture in our maturation and evolution as a country is to pledge allegiance to the law and the constitution on which it was built. In as many areas as we sadly lag behind, there remain a few where we are considered best - and one of those is our democracy. A democracy initially created to provide every person, of every creed and color with the fundamental guarantee of protection. Our primary responsibility is to keep Americans safe. That is our purpose and our job. Again, there are those that feel differently. Those that would prefer anarchy, revolution and the flowing blood of innocents. Our mission is to stop that from happening and allow the natural process of wholistic growth to flourish.”

After a long pause she suggests, “we might start at the top.” 

“I don’t follow.”

“The current guy is a punk.” 

“Do I detect a note of agreement by your plural use of the pronoun ‘we’?” I ask. 

She seems vulnerable, or at least willing to compromise, so I press the point, “I need to know if you are capable of giving us one hundred percent. You cannot be even the slightest bit divided on this. Should you be incapable of total commitment and cooperation, I will recommend that we terminate the option and proceed with the original plan. That would be a shame because I continue to feel that you have the chutzpah to be an outstanding contributor to our team, but if you cannot separate your rebellious, vindictive nature from the dangerous political reality of our current situation, then so be it, we’ll get along as best we can without you.” 

The big screen crackles to life and I see TOM looking at me as if he has been eavesdropping the entire time. 

“Please excuse the girl if she is not on-board,” he tells me in more of a command voice than a suggestive one. 

I look at Maria. 

She is impassive, unmoving and unblinking. I hold her gaze. The gerbil-wheel inside her head must be spinning at the speed of sound. 

TOM coughs. 

More mild turbulence that I take as a nudge from the cosmos. 

“Alright.” She says at last.

“Alright what?” I counter.

“Alright, I’m in.”