Excerpt:
I was summoned back to a corporate “front office” for The Outfit, one of those clandestine government organizations, on the east coast to meet with my boss for an assignment. I never look forward to these meetings, not because I am not up for the challenge that he would present, but because our relationship has always been, well, testy at best. To be honest I think we both like getting under each other’s skin, and this has been going on since we have worked together. He knows what buttons to push, and I usually know how to push back.
I live in North Phoenix in an area known as Sunnyslope in a bungalow, not large by any means, built in the nineteen fifties, but very comfortable for a single guy. It’s on North Central Avenue at the base of North Mountain which is part of an extensive park system in Phoenix with hiking trails and visitor centers. The area has become somewhat gentrified over the years, mostly because of the views but has never really managed to get all that polished up, lots of patina or rough edges to those who would describe it with a less sophisticated vocabulary. I find it very comfortable in a funky sort of way.
To my neighbors who see me come and go, they are led to believe that I work in international construction, which would account for my extended absences and sometimes my returning a bit worse for wear. In reality, I work for a court of last resort, an off-the-books Federal organization whose only mandate is to take care of the business that can’t be handled through regular channels, and obviously in a discreet manner. I’ve been doing this for a long time, am pretty good at it since I am still alive and though approaching, or let’s face it, actually in middle age, can’t fathom doing anything else. I’ve had to dispatch to take care of business, but frankly it doesn’t keep me up at night; it was simply what had to be done. I got over being concerned about that a long time ago. Perhaps I would be a perfect subject for a graduate thesis in deviant psychology but I’ve long since resolved that concern. I’m simply good at what I do, am compensated well, and feel that I am providing a service when nothing else can rectify a situation.
I have a woman in my life, well, most of the time. Bright, beautiful, and as independent as I am. We tried living together for a while, but it didn’t work out; she is North Scottsdale and into designer everything and I am Sunnyslope and jeans and a tee shirt or sweatshirt depending on the season with sneakers or hiking boots to complete the look. I kind of gravitate to brew pubs, even a biker bar or two if the food is good but do enjoy good healthy food as I cook for myself, and she to haute cuisine and will only resort to a microwave to heat something up that she brought home from a five star whatever the night before. I love her but we are currently on the outs. That condition comes and goes. We both are pretty stubborn. She goes her way for a while and I go mine, but we ultimately end up together again, but not right now. I have to admit though that I wonder from time to time who will give up first.
Besides her I have few friends, except for a shrink who helped me get my head straight after a disastrous assignment that resulted in innocents being killed brutally, and a detective on the Phoenix PD who I have enlisted from time to time to pull a few strings that needed pulling. Beyond them, I don’t look for companionship, buddies, or the like. It’s too hard to continue a charade about what I do and frankly compared to my world we really don’t have much in common. I’d rather just use my free time to read a good book, do some research on a subject that interests me, do some investing with a nest egg that I’ve accumulated over the years and grown quite successfully, or watch a really good vintage movie. Never got hooked on sports; can’t see why you would spend time watching people do things that you can’t do, and I don’t gamble so betting on games or whatever is of no interest. I’m content with that lifestyle, when I’m not on assignment, but since I was summoned all of that was about to be changed.
