Eddy's Current (17 page)

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Authors: Reed Sprague

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“Duty is an interesting word. It is your duty to serve. It is your duty to serve in a way that will bring honor to your country. It is your duty to hold to a high ethical standard. It is your duty to help your neighbor. It is your duty to change your baby’s diaper. Even you men!” The male students laughed hilariously. The female students didn’t even smile.

“And how about this one: It is an honor to have a duty to perform. Or, it is my duty to change a flat tire.

“Here it is in summary: It is your duty to do what is right. That sums it up well.

“Service might be the most difficult word of the three to deal with. The word is, far more often than not, elevated above what it really means. The ‘lesser meanings’ are downplayed, and many times they are ignored. To do service out of deep, abiding humility, is toughest of all for us to accept. When we interpret the word service to mean that we are to serve as the top dog, we all would be willing to manipulate to get to that level of service. Service that calls for us to be good assistants is service we will find it easy to forego.

“Service professions often attract narcissists. The service profession you have chosen comes prepackaged with the respect, power and authority desired by the narcissist. These are attributes he wants so much but can’t have. They have to be earned through humble, professional service. The narcissist wants the shortcut. He wants to be considered a servant, worthy of the trust necessary to be handed the inherent respect, power and authority. But he can’t serve. He is not a servant. He’s a fake. He’ll never possess the servant’s powers. They are unattainable by him. He can have the counterfeits, but he can’t have the real thing.

“You are not the narcissist. You are a true servant. You are empathetic. You are to serve others, and your receipt of these attributes will be real. Make absolutely certain you don’t abuse them because if you do you will be assured of failure in this line of work.

“Just as I do with the word honor, I expect you to apply the word service to your personal and professional lives with the full depth of all of its meanings. Service means service. It means serving as the boss. It means serving as the assistant. It means serving as the spouse, the student, the professor, the servant. It means all of that and more.

“A word of caution about this word, though. A good servant is not a doormat. A good servant is wise. She understands and is sensitive to those who do not believe as she does. This word can get you into trouble if you understand its humbler meanings too well. You are called to serve, and you were taught the depth of that word’s full meaning here.

“You were also taught that a servant can bring on compromise to her ethics if she is too passive. Passivity and service have two entirely different meanings, and they lead to two entirely different results. One is inaction, perhaps to avoid conflict needed to stop an aggressor from taking advantage of your servant spirit. The other is action taken to benefit others. One is cowardice; the other is courageous. One has no purpose; the other is indispensable.

“You have a purpose. You are indispensable, not because of who you were and are in your natural state, but because you have allowed the person you used to be to be trained to become the person your country needs at this most critical time of challenge in our nation’s history.

“So I challenge you today to seize your future. Yours is a future of honor, duty and service. Yours is a future with a summit. Yours is a future with a ladder to climb, work to be done, lives to be saved and a nation and world to clean up.

“I expect you to do nothing less than meet these challenges and to achieve all of your career goals. I expect you to be all that you are destined to be. I expect you to help others at great sacrifice to yourself. I expect you to believe in this great nation of ours, in our Constitution, and in the laws you are sworn to protect.

“Go forward without compromise, without giving in, without the possibility of failure. Your expectation must be that you will achieve one hundred percent success in all you do. Nothing less. Yet, when reality shows you that there will be setbacks — when you are knocked down a rung or two — catch yourself so you don’t fall all the way down. Regroup and head on up. Keep going. That is to be your definition of one hundred percent success. You will succeed one hundred percent if and only if you understand that when you are knocked down a few percentage points, you must move back up that amount or more with each challenge.

“Thank you for your hard work during these past three years. God bless you as you go on from here. Good night.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

OCTOBER 2023

 

The idealism of schooling gave way without delay to the reality of the grind of everyday work. River wasn’t sure he liked reality. Reality had always been confusing to him. After nearly four years working in the USFIA — the first eighteen months spent observing, writing, researching, fetching coffee and running errands, all as an intern — River was bored with the banality. He longed for the exciting work of the intelligence agents he and his fellow agents spoke of often, dreamed about, read about in novels and watched on television and the big screen.

River was experiencing endless long meetings and never–ending continuing education. And petty politics, and long hours, and excruciatingly careful investigative work that had little to do with proper investigative procedures and everything to do with avoiding negative press or lawsuits. These were the realities of River’s work so far. It was all a far cry from the challenges presented to him by Alexandria Romez in her graduation speech. The USFIA had quickly become a bureaucratic mess even though it was supposed to be the replacement organization for a bureaucratic mess.

River hung in there. Though they did not talk much about it, River and Eddy held a deep love for their country. A tidal wave of change had swept over the U.S. and the world, though. The tsunami threatened to drown the proud independent nations of the past and form a murky soup of barely visible unity that masked an undercurrent of chaos and seething resentment. It was a recipe made in hell presented as a taste of heaven, and America was burning as the recipe’s toxic ingredients ignited one fire after another. All–out hell was nearby.

It was always difficult for River to allow idealism to fade. And yet it was fading as reality was coming into sharp focus. While reality often supplants idealism, River believed that reality offered the opportunity to apply idealism. He and Eddy kept their ideals alive.

River Norman Warwick, Jr., and Jennifer Edward Warwick, Jr., were born in the middle of the afternoon, 21 October 2023. Though it was uncommon, to say the least, to name one’s daughter with the designation “Junior,” River and Eddy wanted the pride associated with being second in line to a unique family name passed on to their daughter. Their little girl would be raised with that distinction.

Eddy Sr. had been nicknamed by her grandfather who wanted his daughter to bear a son, who was to be named Edward, with the nickname Eddie. He had more fun than should be allowed teasing his daughter and her husband by calling his granddaughter by the name Eddy. Jon and Cynthia agreed to go along with Cynthia’s father, so they gave Eddy the middle name of Edward.

Due to the nature of River’s current training and his future work, news of the twins’ birth was muted. There were no grand announcements and there was no big celebration. Just a few family members and a few of River and Eddy’s closest friends celebrated. Even those few had to pass the extensive background checks required by the USFIA for people who associated closely with their agents.

The twins were adorable, and they were every parent’s dream. After only a few weeks, they slept through the night each night. They ate on time, they were healthy, and there was very little screaming from them. There were only a few stomach aches here and there to deal with. Eddy Jr. seemed to study her world intently; River Jr. enjoyed his sleep. Life was good for River and Eddy.

Tuesday, 21 November 2023. Today’s case presented a problem that had become all too familiar. It was another case of a corrupt FBI agent, an FBI supervisor protecting his corrupt agent, the top FBI brass protecting the agent’s supervisor, politicians protecting the FBI brass, and the USFIA reacting far too late to the problem. It was all the same and all too common. This time, however, River was placed in charge of the investigation, his first “real job” since being assigned to keep an eye on Tyler Peterson.

“This guy’s bad. He’s rotten to the core. He’s brazen. I’ve never seen anything like this,” River’s boss, Sydney Albert, said. Albert was a careful, calculating agent who did not allow failure. He and River were going over the basics of the developing case against FBI agent Frederic Hernandez. Hernandez had been with the Houston office of the FBI for twenty years. He had never been suspected of any wrongdoing. He had apparently been loyal, well beyond the loyalty of even the most dedicated agents. Apparently, but not really.

“Move very carefully on this guy. He’s deceptive. He knows exactly how to execute wiles like the one he pulled off. He undoubtedly will know how to thwart your investigation of him. He must not find out that you’re investigating him. He must not even know that he’s under suspicion. This will be a tough case for you. You will bounce everything off of me each morning. You and I will meet at nine o’clock each morning to go over your previous day’s work on the case, and you will let me know your plans for that day,” Albert said, with absolute clarity. Albert’s agents at the USFIA usually understood their charge after only one meeting with him. Albert gave clear instructions.

“I really have little solid information for you other than to tell you that Hernandez is suspected of aiding a crime ring in Los Angeles. Oh, and he’s hanging out with that religious nut, Peterson.”

“As I have tried to tell you several times, Mr. Albert, it would be a huge mistake to write Peterson off as a nut,” River explained.

“You young guys take everything so seriously. Peterson’s a nut. Now let’s get on with this investigation,” Albert replied.

“Hernandez’s motive appears to be simple greed, but he might be a nut, too. You just never know. Don’t let any of that influence you too heavily, though. It’s speculation. Go forward looking only for facts. Avoid speculation like the plague.”

“Okay, okay. Can I be excused to get started?” River asked.

Albert did not take offense of River’s rather forward request, although he did make a mental note of it. A young agent who has waited patiently for years for his chance to head an investigation could prove to be either a responsible, aggressive investigator or a reckless, loose canon. Albert believed in the former and loathed the latter and anything in the middle.

“Yes, yes, get started. But remember, no slips. And don’t forget to run everything by me in our morning meetings. Don’t leave anything out of your daily reports. Be especially careful to report details. I am a detail person. Investigations are successful when details are covered. Serve details — pay close attention to them — or they’ll eat you alive.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now go to work.”

The case was perplexing. Hernandez was no ordinary agent. Accolades for him came over the years from every conceivable place. Senators, supervisors, victims, even those he investigated. He was a professional, and he was clean. At least on the surface.

As FBI agents’ salaries go, he was well paid. His family was stable. He didn’t live beyond his means. His associations were appropriate, except for one.

“This is Joseph Hannah, I’m calling to set up an appointment to come out to clean your carpets, Mrs. Hernandez. You called us yesterday to get us out there. I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you before now. Can I come over right now?” River said, posing as a carpet cleaner.

River had been intercepting certain of the Hernandezes’ phone calls—not all of them, only those made to service companies. Their phone calls were redirected to River’s phone. A digital display told River the name of the caller. He let each call go on through to its intended destination unless he wanted to intercept it. When Mrs. Hernandez made the call to Joe Hannah’s Carpet Cleaning Service, River gambled and decided to route the call to a voice mailbox. He had quickly recorded an outgoing message for Joseph Hannah — “This is Joe. Please leave a message” — then sent the call to that voice mailbox. It was perfect, unless either of the Hernandezes knew Hannah by sight. They did not. They had not contacted Hannah’s Carpet Cleaning Service before.

River arrived, dressed in a work uniform, ready to clean Mrs. Hernandez’s carpet. She had called to have only one area of her guest room carpet cleaned.

“Do you have a photo I.D., Mr. Hannah?” Mrs. Hernandez asked.

“Yes, I do. Here it is, Ma’am.”

“Great. Please come in. The portion of the carpet I need to have done is over here, in the guest room.”

“Fine. I’ll get started right away.”

The guest room was also a study. River knew that before Mrs. Hernandez called to have her carpet cleaned. River had studied the blueprints for the Hernandezes’ home. River had to be careful. A well placed camera would record any snooping he decided to do. He would have to observe and inspect from a distance, while he was working. He would have to be careful to leave no clue that he was even curious about anything. This appearance, as good an idea as it seemed that the time, would work against him.

“Mrs. Hernandez, I noticed that the stain spread to the edge of this locked cabinet door, or closet door, whatever it is. I really can’t get it all up unless you unlock the door so I can get my cleaning vacuum head under the door. It should only take a minute. Do you have the key?” River said innocently.

“Well, I really shouldn’t open it, but I can see that you need it open to get in there with your vacuum. Hold on, I’ll get the key.”

Mrs. Hernandez returned right away with the key. “What’s that smell? It’s so strong,” she said.

“It’s the chemical I have to use to get the carpet clean and completely sanitary. You won’t smell a thing after I’m done.”

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