Without a Hitch (6 page)

Chapter 5

Standing with
one foot in the office and the other in the hallway, Corbin did his best “Carol
Anne” impression from
Poltergeist
:  “They’re here.”

“About time!  I
thought I’d never get to use this.”  Beckett pulled a paper from between the
sheets of an unused notepad and placed it into his inbox.

Corbin returned
to his desk and tried to look busy.

A few seconds
later, Kak knocked on their door.  “Hi guys, th. . . this won’t take a minute.”

Behind Kak stood
a woman with stringy, gray hair tied in a long braid that ran to the middle of
her back.  She wore pointed glasses and a badge announcing her as an employee
of the General Services Administration.  She carried a clipboard and a tape
measure.  Corbin and Beckett watched as she walked around the room, looking
behind cabinets and examining electrical plugs.  When she peered behind
Beckett’s desk, she gasped.  A moment later, she was crawling beneath the desk
to examine the exposed wires.  Beckett pushed his chair out of her away and
swiveled to face Kak.

“This is
incredibly dangerous.  Did y’all list this?” she asked in a thick Virginia
accent.

Beckett smiled
and deferentially flipped his hand toward Kak, as if to say “you first.”  Kak
remained silent, but sweat appeared on his forehead.

The woman pulled
herself out from under the desk and scanned through the pages attached to her
clipboard.  “I don’t see any electrical problems what was listed on the
inventory.  Are these new problems?”  The woman tugged the box away from the
electrical wires and shined a flashlight directly on the outlet.  “How long has
this been like this?”

Neither Kak nor
Beckett responded, though Kak’s eye twitched, and he struggled to remain
silent.  Beckett, by contrast, remained cool, but couldn’t stop smiling. 
Corbin watched the face off as one watches a train wreck in progress, with a
strange sense of helpless fascination at the unfolding disaster.

Kak broke
first.  “This is the first. . . the. . . the first I heard of it!”

“Actually, it’s
been like that since I got here,” Beckett countered immediately.

Kak’s nose
flared.  He glared at Beckett.  “I, I asked everyone to. . . uh, to report any
problems.  Why didn’t you report this?”

“But I did,”
Beckett replied innocently.  His smile widened.

Kak whipped out
a piece of paper from a folder he held.  “Here’s the uh, form.  I don’t see any
mention of electrical wires!”

The woman took
the form.

Beckett peered
over her shoulder.  “That’s not the form I gave you.  That’s the second one you
made me sign.  The one I sent you originally listed the wires and the mold.”

“Mold?!  What
mold?”  It took the woman only a split second to locate the brand new, clean
ceiling tile near the air conditioning vent.  “Are you saying all y’all were
told to hide hazards from me?” she asked crossly.

“Wha. . . what
are you talking about!” Kak erupted at Beckett.  “There was no second form! 
This is the form you gave me!”

“No, that’s the
form you brought me and told me to sign.  I’m talking about the form I gave you
originally.  I think I may even still have a copy of it.”  Beckett pretended to
rifle through his inbox, before pulling out the original inspection form.  “Oh,
here it is.”

The inspector
took the form and compared it to the original.  “Mr. Kak, we need to talk about
your obligations to GSA.”  Almost before she finished her sentence, Kak
retreated from the office.  The woman chased him down the hallway, battering
him with questions.

With the
inspector and Kak out of earshot, Corbin finally spoke:  “Holy shit, dude!”

Beckett let out
a relieved laugh.  “I don’t know what came over me.  I only planned to leave
the form on my desk, where she could see it, but then this euphoria set in and.
. . well, you saw.”

Corbin ran his
fingers through his hair.  “This one takes the cake.  I mean. . . shit!  He’s
gonna get you now, if it takes the rest of his life.  You’ll be lucky if he
doesn’t fire you this afternoon.”

“He can’t, I’ve
got my time in grade.”

“He’s dumb
enough to try it.”

“No, that’s not
his style.  He’ll probably give me a horrible evaluation.”

“That or knife
you while you sleep.  I’d stop napping in the office for a while.”

Beckett looked
at his hands; they were shaking.  “Do you think she’ll do anything to him?”

“Does anyone
ever?  If there was any justice in this world, he’d have been fired years
ago.”  Corbin pulled his book from his desk.  “Of course, so would the rest of
us.”

“I guess we
should be thankful the government keeps people like him.”

Corbin looked
confused.  “Why?”

“If they didn’t,
he’d be out in the real world labor force.  Then you’d never get your order
right at McDonalds.”

“Good point.” 
Corbin stared at Beckett for a moment before rising to close the door.  He sat
down in the extra chair by Beckett’s desk.  “Listen, don’t take this the wrong
way, but until this thing is done, you need to stop drawing attention to
yourself.”

“You’re right,”
Beckett responded too quickly to have considered Corbin’s words.

“Evan, the more
people you provoke, the harder it’ll be for you to disappear on June 14th.”

“I agree.  You’re
right,” Beckett conceded more contritely, only to suddenly clench his fists
like a boxer and exclaim:  “I just feel so energized right now.”

Corbin turned on
his friend.  “Dammit!  You’ve got to keep the emotion out of this!  Emotion
makes you erratic.  We’ve got to be calm, cool, collected.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious!”

“I know.” 
Beckett held up his hand as if swearing an oath.  “I swear I will do my best.”

“Keep your eye
on the prize,” Corbin said, before opening the door again, only to find Molly looking
smug.

“Boys.”

“Molly.  To what
do we owe the pleasure?”

“Can’t a girl
visit her two favorite coworkers without a reason?”

“Anything’s
possible,” Corbin said doubtfully.

Molly pushed
past Corbin and seated herself next to Beckett.  She picked up Beckett’s
dictionary and flipped through its pages.  Trying to figure out what Corbin and
Beckett were up to had become Molly’s new hobby, a hobby of which they were
keenly aware.  She set the dictionary in her lap and focused on Corbin.

“So how are
things?”

“Unimaginably
fantastic,” Corbin replied.  “You?”

“Can’t complain,
can’t complain.”  Molly smirked.  “My that’s a lovely suit, Corbin.  Olive
green is your color; it really suits you.”  It was clear to all she was toying
with him, waiting to spring some big surprise.  In fact, it sounded a bit like
she was gloating.

“This old thing?”
Corbin played along.  “Well, let me say, that’s a beautiful blouse Molly.  You’ve
done something with your hair too, haven’t you?”

“Oh, I’m letting
it grow a little.  You like?”  Molly put her hand to the back of her head and
puffed up her hair.

“Very fetching.”

“What do you
want, Molly?!” Beckett interrupted.

She smiled.  “I’m
glad you asked,” she said, patting Beckett’s forearm.  “I wanted to be the
first to congratulate you on your complete and utter humiliation of one George
H. Kak.  Nice work, pal!  Have ya given any thought to your future?”

Beckett
recoiled.  “You heard that?!”

Grinning like
the Cheshire Cat, Molly pressed her advantage.  She struck a nerve and they all
knew it.  “
Everyone
heard it.  You’re famous.”

Corbin jumped in
to buy Beckett time to regain his composure.  “Did you want an autograph or
something?  Is that why you dropped by?”

“Oh, as if.”

“Then why are
you here?”

“I’m glad you
asked.  I came to use the dictionary.”  Molly flipped open the dictionary to a
page she marked with her finger.  “Oh, here’s the word I wanted.  Noun,” Molly
read to Corbin and Beckett as if they were third graders.  “‘Something
exceptionally desirable’.  Hmm.”  Molly put a finger to her lips.  “Or maybe
you prefer, ‘something taken by force, stratagem, or threat’?”

“What is?”  Corbin
looked puzzled.

“A
prize
,
of course.  How do
you
define prize?”

“I have no idea
what you’re talking about,” Corbin said without missing a beat.

Molly winked at
Corbin and sauntered from the room.  “Carry on, boys.”  She closed the door
behind her.

Corbin signaled
Beckett to remain silent as he peered beneath the door.  Molly’s feet were
nowhere to be seen.  “It’s ok, she’s gone,” he whispered to Beckett.

“What do you
think she knows?” Beckett whispered back.

“Nothing, she
just overheard the word ‘prize.’  Otherwise, she would have pounded us with
specific questions.  Trust me, it’s killing her to think something is going on
she knows nothing about.  If she knew anything, she would relentlessly throw it
in our faces, hoping we either let her in on it or panic and give her more
clues.  She’s bluffing.”

“I hope you’re
right.”  Beckett fiddled with a pen.  “You handled that well.  You didn’t sound
surprised at all.”  It wasn’t clear if Beckett meant this as a compliment to
Corbin or an indictment of himself.

“We can’t afford
to be surprised.  Whatever happens, just keep the emotion out of it.  If we
don’t, we’ll give ourselves away.  We can’t allow that.”

Beckett nodded. 
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the ever-present buzzing of
the fluorescent lights.

“Do you think
she’s right?  Do you think everybody heard?”  Beckett stopped whispering.

“Everyone on the
hallway, that’s for sure.  The rest’ll get blow-by-blow transcripts within the
hour.  But it doesn’t matter, what’s done is done.  You just need to stand
there and take it.  Don’t flinch, don’t panic, don’t cause a scene.  Remember,
you’re out of here in a month.
 
Stay cool and
this’ll pass.  Get upset and you’ll give Molly or Kak exactly what they need to
rip you apart.”

Beckett grunted. 
“I’m not normally this bad with stress.  It’s just. . . this is a big thing. .
. with my family and all.  If we don’t get this right.”

“You heard the
plan.  You know the safeguards, and how we have layer upon layer of protection. 
Every risk has been considered and countered.”

“I know.  I
understand,” Beckett’s voice contained a tinge of irritation, but also a hint
of fear.  Beckett ground something into the carpet with his shoe.  “It’s just
this waiting.  I keep thinking, ‘why can’t it be June 14 already?’  ‘Why can’t
I be on the train already?’  I feel like I should be doing something.”

“Find something
to fill your time.”

“Like what? 
There’s not really much to keep us busy here, is there?”

“Then think of
something else to do.  Write the great American novel, study French or FORTRAN
or some other dead language, just channel your stress into something
productive.”

Becket smiled. 
“French isn’t a dead language.”

“Give it time.”

Corbin sat at
the bar at the Bluetone swirling the beer in his glass.  A neon sign above the
bar gave his beer a reddish tint.  The bar was dark and smelled of french
fries.  Burnt, aging high-intensity lights on the stage cast a brownish glow
over everything, though a series of recessed lights added bright spots
throughout the room.  Whenever people smoked, the light from these bright spots
lit up the smoke and formed snakelike cones of yellowish light amidst the
darkness.

The bar owner,
Ronnie “Blue” Beltran, wiped the bar clean.  He and Corbin became friends after
Corbin started playing regularly at Blue’s bar.

“Did I ever tell
you I don’t love my job?”

Blue let out a
belly laugh.  “Let me think.”

“I should have
been a musician, Blue.”  Corbin picked at a tray of peanuts.

“What stopped
cha?” Blue asked in a voice made raspy by years of smoking.

“I don’t know. 
I do not know.  I guess, everyone always told me to stay on the track, go to a
good school, get a good job, be a success.  I never questioned that.”

“Can’t blame
other people for the choices you make in life.”  Blue pulled a cigarette from
the pocket of his Cuban guayabera shirt.

“I suppose that’s
true.”

“And it sure
ain’t bad advice to get education or to strive to be a success.”

“That’s true
too.”

“Maybe you just
picked the wrong job.  You any good at what cha do?”

“Honestly?  I
have no idea.  I don’t
do
anything.  So I have no way to know if I’m any
good at it.”

“You’re one heck
of a musician.  I can tell you that.  Just got to loosen up a bit, and you’d be
serious, man.”  Blue stuck the cigarette between his lips and searched the bar
for a match.

“Well, I’m just
talkin’.  I’ve made my choice.  I’m stuck being a lawyer.  Besides, I only play
for fun, as evidenced by what you
don’t
pay me to play.”

Blue laughed
again.  “I’ll pay you any time you wanna come play full time.”

“I appreciate
that.”

“Hey, I’m a
businessman, and you a good investment.  Might not hire you to get my dog out
of jail, but you can play in my bar anytime.”

“Then let’s hope
your dog stays on the path of righteousness.”  Corbin lifted his glass.  “To
your dog.”

Blue raised his
own glass.  “To making righteous decisions.”

Chapter 6

“Have you seen
this?!”  Theresa tossed a pamphlet onto Corbin’s lap and slid onto the end of
his desk.  She crossed her legs and smoothed her maroon skirt.

Corbin
recognized the pamphlet as the invitation to the office’s summer conference. 
This was usually held at a ritzy hotel downtown, and it was attended by hordes
of industry people, all looking for some advantage to be gained by meeting the
office’s senior staff.  Cooper Wilson used these conferences to encourage the industry
to lobby Congress for more funds for the office.

“Turn to the back,”
Theresa said, “you’ll laugh yourself silly.”

Corbin flipped
the pamphlet over.  “Humma humma humma ‘office continues to struggle in an
understaffed
capacity’?  ‘Imperils the mission’?”  Corbin furrowed his brow.  “Who wrote
this crap?”

“Kak, who do you
think?”

“What a lying
sack of—”

“Do you think
we’ll have to go to this one?” Theresa asked, cutting Corbin off.

“Don’t we
always?”

“What’s the
date?” Beckett asked.  “Maybe I’ll be gone before it happens?”

“No such luck,
partner, June 2nd,” Corbin said.

“Shoot.”

Theresa shook
her head.  “I thought there was some sort of mercy rule:  once you’ve been to
enough of these, they let you stop attending?”

“You should
suggest that to Kak,” Corbin offered.

“Sure, next time
we have dinner I’ll mention it right after the dessert course.”  Theresa rolled
her eyes.  She disliked Kak as much as anyone.  “At least we get a day off out
of it.”

“Day off?  From
what?” Beckett snickered.

Theresa didn’t
laugh.  Beckett was treading into an area they had already fought over twice before,
and she wasn’t going to let his reference to this ancient antagonism go
unchallenged.  “From work, what do you think?!”

“What work? 
Nobody works around here.”

“You know, I
take offense at that,” Theresa responded over her shoulder, without turning to
face Beckett.  “I work hard.”

“I’m sorry,
Theresa, but no one here can claim they work hard, especially compared to the
real world.”

“Don’t give me
that.  You can’t compare the private sector to the government.  I’m doing a
public service, which requires careful deliberation.  The private sector can’t
do that, all they care about is profit.  Besides, what do you expect, we’re
underpaid.  Do you know how much they get paid?  I do.  I worked in the private
sector before I came here.”

“For six months,
ten years ago.”

“It was enough,
let me tell you.  If they want me to work like I’m in the private sector, they
need to start paying me like I’m in the private sector.”  Theresa jabbed her
finger against Corbin’s desk
for emphasis as she
spoke.

“That still
doesn’t explain why people here don’t give an honest day’s work.”

“I don’t accept
that!”

“Really?  How
much of your day is spent playing solitaire on the computer?”

Beckett and
Theresa both raised their voices.

“That’s not fair! 
This is a stressful job.  I need something to relieve the pressure.”

“What pressure? 
There’s nothing stressful about this job!”

Theresa slid off
Corbin’s desk and circled around toward Beckett like a boxer in a ring.  Despite
her tight pencil skirt and her unstable heels, she moved smoothly from years of
practice as she wore nothing else.  “Nothing stressful?!  We make decisions
that affect real people.”

Beckett
stiffened.  “No we don’t.  We just review files to make sure money was spent properly.”

“It affects
people.  Not to mention, the support around here is miserable.”  Theresa’s face
contorted with disgust.  Her nose flared, her forehead wrinkled, her eyes
narrowed and seemed to come together to a point, and she bared her teeth as she
curled her lips.  “They do nothing,” she hissed.  “I even have to write my own
letters because my secretary is totally worthless.  Now, she should be fired!”
Theresa yelled in a voice that was strangely reminiscent of a Disney villainess. 
“People like her make the rest of us look bad!”

Beckett was
temporarily startled by her tone.

Theresa squinted
her eyes.  “And let me tell you, I don’t see you working any harder than anyone
else!”

“I sure don’t,”
Beckett admitted, “but I don’t pretend I work hard.”

“I don’t
pretend
either,” Theresa gasped.

“Ok, tell me one
thing you’ve finished in the past month.”

“That’s not a
fair measure of what I do!”

“Then what is?”

“I’m not going
to argue with you about this.”

“It doesn’t
bother you that taxpayers are working hard to support my napping habit?” 
Beckett’s tone sharpened.

“
I
don’t
nap at the office!” Theresa barked indignantly.

“Face it, if you
had to hire someone for a job that mattered, you’d never hire anyone who worked
as little as the people do in this office, including yourself!”

Theresa stepped
toward Beckett, shaking her finger in his face.  “Not everyone wants to work in
a dog eat dog environment.  I don’t want a job where my boss can fire me
because he doesn’t like me or because he
thinks
I don’t work hard enough. 
I want the security this job provides, and you don’t have a right to criticize
my choice.”

“That’s enough,
both of you!” Corbin said, rising from his seat and pulling Theresa away from
Beckett.  He ushered her toward the door, where she stomped off down the hall. 
Corbin watched her march the length of the hallway before turning to Beckett.

“You’re just
determined to be all kinds of popular around here aren’t you?”

“She started
it.”

“Yeah, and she
was gonna finish it too.”

“I’ll drop by
later and make it up to her.”

“Why do those
sound like famous last words?”