The Next Morning
Wendy May’s cell vibrated with a distinct buzz, disrupting the rhythm of her fingers dancing against the keyboard. She took her eyes off the computer screen and glanced at her mobile. The name ‘C’ glared back at her like a silent demand. What does Cloche want now?
Unlocking her device, she read the message.
C: [It’s time. Set up the meeting today.]
A faint sigh escaped her lips. She paused, running a hand through her wavy hair, before replying:
[Standby.]
Her thumbs flew across the screen as she texted Fui Chapman. Moments later, her phone chimed again, but the response was less than ideal:
[The VP is on an emergency trip to SV.]
[No return date yet.]
[It’s post-Thanksgiving, things are moving slowly.]
Wendy’s brow furrowed. This wouldn’t sit well with Cloche. She crafted her reply, choosing her words with the tact of a diplomat:
[He’s on a trip to Silicon Valley.]
[It was a sudden assignment.]
[I’ll keep you posted on his return.]
She hesitated before hitting send, then braced herself for a potential fallout. Cloche’s reply was swift, sharp, and authoritative:
[Find out where he lives.]
[I want to know if he’s avoiding me.]
Wendy tapped lightly on her desk as her gaze wandered to her boss’s office door, pondering how to obtain the information. Then, shifting her attention, she noticed the stack of documents next to her. In that instant, the lifeless papers sparked an idea.
Picking up the receiver, she dialed HR. After a brief hold, a clerk answered.
“Hello, this is Wendy May from VP Kavanagh’s office,” she began, her tone brisk yet composed. “I need your assistance. The VP has to fly out of Virginia on an urgent matter and won’t be able to access his office for the next couple of days. However, we need to send him a high-priority document to be physically signed before he departs for the trip. Could you please provide me with his residential address? It’s imperative to get this to him promptly.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
The HR clerk paused for a moment, processing Wendy’s request. “I understand the urgency, Ms. May,” she replied finally. “Please hold for just a moment.”
Wendy’s pulse skyrocketed as she hung on the line, the weight of the situation pressing upon her. She knew that personnel particulars were confidential, guarded closely by HR protocols. Yet, she had to deliver whatever Cloche ordered.
“Thank you for your patience, Ms. May,” the HR clerk started to say after she returned to the line. “I have VP Kavanagh’s residential details ready for you. It’s 919 Bellview Road, McLean. Please ensure the document reaches him promptly.”
“Thank you,” Wendy said gratefully, jotting down the information. “I appreciate your assistance.”
Ending the call, Wendy’s fingers stilled over the phone, her mind calculating. As she messaged Cloche, a sly smirk curved her heavily painted lips:
[The source wants 100K for the intel.]
Several minutes later, Cloche replied:
[Done. Check the card.]
Around half an hour later, Wendy forwarded the location to Cloche. She hit send and leaned back in her chair, her features flashing with smug satisfaction. Ha! Snagged an easy 100K just like that!
……
Later That Day, Cloche Enterprises
Talon paced the length of his office, his eyes flicking to the clock with increasing impatience as he felt a simmering frustration in the pit of his stomach. Kieran Kavanagh was proving more elusive than he had anticipated. What a slippery eel!
A sharp knock interrupted his pacing. A subordinate entered, his face a mask of professional detachment.
“Boss, we staked out the place; no activity detected so far.”
Talon’s stare hardened as he absorbed the news he didn’t want to hear. “Did you verify the home ownership?”
“The property is registered to a K. Kavanagh. So, the intel should be right.”
Talon’s pupils constricted as he subconsciously clenched his jaw. “No sign of movement?”
The subordinate shook his head, sensing the dangerous edge of his boss’s mood.
“Keep watching. I want to know if he’s hiding to bide his time. Report back intermittently,” Talon ordered, his voice a low growl.
“Yes, Boss,” the subordinate grunted and slinked out of the office.
……
Late Afternoon
Seven’s cell pinged with an incoming text notification. He checked the screen; it was from Katherine. Her message sent a chill down his spine:
[Heads up.]
[At Cloche’s behest, Wendy found and forwarded our home address to him.]
[As you guessed, he planned to corner you at the office today.]
[Don’t be surprised if he sends someone to stake out the area.]
Seven’s brows knitted as he read the message. Cloche is getting desperate.
He quickly typed back a reply:
[Got it! Thanks, K.]
Thinking about the upcoming hearing, Seven couldn’t help but feel a sense of trepidation. I hope I get the green light for the interagency cooperation. Otherwise…
……
Nightfall
As twilight deepened, shadows lengthened across the grounds over at 919 Bellview Road. A nondescript black car idled nearby, tucked between some bushes opposite the quaint duplex, its tinted windows concealing the figure inside.
The henchman periodically lifted a pair of infrared binoculars, sweeping the property for any sign of movement. The lights remained stubbornly off, the windows dark and unyielding. It was as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for its master’s return.
Hours passed, but the henchman’s vigilance never wavered.
……
The Next Morning
The dutiful henchman reported to his superior, awaiting his next instruction. His updates, however, were met with terse acknowledgments.
……
Later That Morning
Barely starting the day, Wendy’s mobile lit up with a notification from Cloche:
[Inform me the moment he returns.]
Wendy promptly returned a thumbs-up emoji.
With that, Cloche called off the stakeout.
