Snake in the Garden.

In my line of work you not only see bad people and what they do, you also get to watch them start a brand new life from the pocket of the tax payer. My job is not only to create the names and find the new life, I am also the one that makes sure they don't mess it up. They call me 'The travel agent'. In my 10 years on the job it's almost all you ever see, young kids trying their hand at the life of crime and realize they don't have what it takes. Witnessing a heinous crime from your 'hero', the person you thought could do no wrong, can really shake a person to want to try their hand at a simpler life. They get spooked and run to the feds. It's almost a by the book type of thing, you give the detective undeniable proof to get the guy locked away for life and your looking at a new name, new place to live, new job. Your entire life changes. All except the only thing that makes you who you are, your past.

This case was different. It was the type of case that you hate to see but is a case that makes you feel like you are doing good in the world. After reading the Glenkozki file, I knew I had to do all that I could to makes sure the witness and her son would never have to worry about looking over their shoulder in fear again. Certainly was the first time I ever did this for a hitman's wife. It was a refreshing change. A deeply needed change. Her new name is Ruth Stone and her sons new name is Jeremiah Stone. I wish I would've known what type of mess I was getting into looking back on it all.

I was enjoying my morning cup of coffee in my kitchen working out the details of the Stone's new life when my roommate/colleague awoke from his alcohol induced coma and made his way to the kitchen to find something to fill his empty stomach. I know it was empty because of all the heaving and puking I heard all last night. "Good morning sunshine." I say as he enters bleary eyed and marked with impressions of his sheets on his pale unkempt face. "Fuck you and fuck your morning," he began in jest as he made his way to the fridge, "please tell me that you bought more bacon. I will quite literally jizz myself if I find bacon." After the initial inspection the conclusion of no bacon had caused a desperate exasperated sigh. "If you wanted bacon, you should've put it on the list. You could be making bacon right now if you just follow the way I do things." I begin to say since it is true, I always go by the list. "Your pathetic attempt to control my life is not only sad, but down right uncalled for. You go ahead and keep your lists and your order and I will keep on rocking on man." The free soul facade was completed with the rocker symbol being thrust up in the air as if at a protest. "Did you at least leave me some coffee Lee?" He asked. "Didn't know when you would decide to join the land of the living, so I made just enough for me." I replied. Another huff of disapproval, "I thought you cared about me man. Fuck it, I'm going to the corner store for a monster or some shit." I am a man of order and rule. Without it, chaos would certainly ensue. I have always been the person to make sure everyone has something that they need, even if it means taking the shirt off my own back. "You should really reconsider, those things are filled with faint traces of metal you know." I state as Brandon heads to his room to change from his partied stained clothes. When Brandon is back in the kitchen he reads over my shoulder. "Oh Texas huh? Which case is this one for?" Brandon asks as he begins to actually wake up. "This is for the Glenkozki case." Brandon gave me a quizzical look, "Glenkozki, that's the wife and son of the gun for hire right?" I nod my head as I take another drink from my cup. "Yep, wife is kept in the dark about where her husband makes his money, witnesses an attempted hit while on vacation no less, is then almost killed, she flees to the police and well here we are doing our part." Brandon nods his head, "Alright boss, just tell me where we are going once I feel like a human." He slips on his shoes and heads out. I finish the section of the new identities as I finish my coffee, I then head out for the office.

As I walk through the doors of the FBI office with my name on it I look for the fountain pen my brother got for my graduation. I wanted to make the finalization of this job personal and to me, nothing says personal quite like a signature written in fountain ink. Sliding the pen in my shirt pocket I exit my office and am greeted by Detective Chavez, a skinny dark haired detective that I have had the pleasure working with on several cases. "Lee! How goes it? Wasn't expecting to see you here. Thought you'd be halfway to the safe house by now." Chavez said with a smile. "You know me Chavez, I like to check up on you detectives once and while, make sure you guys are actually doing some work." I jest back. It is met with a light laugh and small smile. "I tell you what Lee, you turn your around when I need to go golfing and call that work, then I'll let you get away with one robbery. Just one though." I laugh and smile a bit as well. "Hey Chavez, you were working on the Glenkozki case right?" I ask as I remember seeing his last name on some of the paperwork. He looks at me seriously this time, no hint of a smile or laugh. "Yeah Lee I did." He stated it so matter of fact and so serious that I was beginning to rethink my next question. I asked it anyway. "What are they like? The wife and son I mean?" Chavez's look became one of concern. "Why you want to know Lee?" I have known Chavez for about 8 years now, and not once have I seen him act the way he was right now. "Well, you know I usually have thugs and punks come across my desk getting a jail out of free card with added bonuses. I could care less what those assholes want, but with this case being a mother and son, well, I want to make sure they will be safe and comfortable." Chavez looked at me for a while. It looked like he was looking for the correct thing to say. He began real low in volume, "Look Lee, I've been a detective for almost 15 years and I have never, and I mean never, felt this weird about a case." I cocked my head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean Chavez?" I asked. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was in earshot of our conversation. "What I mean is, there has never been a case I worked that went this fast. From arrest to conviction it all seemed too perfect." I was intrigued at this point. Not only because Chavez was acting strange, also because his answers were creating more questions for me. "C'mon Chavez, too perfect? Isn't that what you detectives crave? A clear cut case?" I asked lightly joking. Chavez was not amused in the slightest. "Clear cut yea Lee, but this case was damn near perfect. Something just doesn't seem right."

I made it back to my car with my pen. The conversation I had with Chavez was beginning to play out again in my head until I heard my phone ring. It was the commissioner. I answered, "Agent Cleff." I answer. "Lee, the meeting you have with the victim of the Glenkozki case is going to be moved to another location." Now this was weird. Initial consultations had to be scheduled days in advanced, moving the location was unheard of the day before, but an hour before was simply impossible and yet I found myself jotting down the new address. "Alright sir, I will head over there right now. See you soon." The commissioner gave a slight cough and said, "Actually Lee, I won't be going with you on this one. You'll go it alone. I trust you can handle a mother and son." He said with a slight chuckle. I made an unconvincing attempt at a laugh and hung up. This is weird, I thought to myself as Chavez's words came back to me.

Two hours later I pull up to a rundown apartment complex. I begin to feel extremely uncomfortable and out of place scanning the impoverished people hanging around the building staring at me and my plain suit and tie get up. I must have looked like I can from a different world, which in a way I did. I began my way up to the fifth floor where the address told me the victim/witnesses were being held for safety. According to the inconspicuous nature of the outside, I would not want to look for the people who sold me out here either. Knocking on apartment number 507 I notice the other doors are either missing or severely damaged and yet this door had barely a scratch on it. An attractive woman with brunette colored hair, brown eyes and a body that one would claim as a trophy wife answered the door in a tight blue shirt and jeans. "I'm so sorry we had to relocate our meeting." She began as soon as she opened the door. "It's quite alright," I lied, "I'm just glad we did not have to reschedule." She smiled and moved aside to invite me in. At first glance you would not believe the safehouse was located in such a rundown building. It was a modern designed apartment with almost up to date appliances. It was cozy to say the least. Taking a couple steps in brought me to the edge of the living room. A boy appearing around the age of 17 was sitting on the couch watching a strange show filled with people wearing heavy makeup and running through some sort of obstacle course. "Would you like any water or anything to drink Mr?" I immediately replied, "Lee, you can call me Lee. And thank you for the offer, but no thank you. I ate on my way here." Another lie, but I was here to get some papers signed and some lives to save. "Well as you know I am here to ensure you and your son are given new identities and practically a whole new life." I said trying to get down to business. My rejection of refreshment and what I just stated must have fallen on def ears because the bombshell woman had poured me a glass of what looked like lemonade and stared at me in a way that made me feel like she thought I was there for a more personal visit. "I've been stuck in this house all day." She began in a normal yet borderline seductive tone. "I haven't had anyone keeping me company. I am getting lonely in this place. Can't go outside, can't go near the windows, can't go near the door. I'm not the type of woman you keep locked up in a cage Mr. Lee. I'm a woman with needs." My pulse began to quicken as she talked. She would look at me and subtly glance down to the shirt she knew was accentuating her assets. "My husband was gone even before he went to prison." She said. I peered over at the teenage boy on the couch. He seemed to be completely unaware of anything going on. When I looked back, the trophy wife was closer to me. With a smile and a hint of a wink she asked me to follow her to another room. Out of earshot of the boy. I didn't know what spell she had put me under but I complied with no push back. As she led me I could tell she was walking in a way that would make me look at her rear. I'm glad I looked, it was definitely a nice one. Other male parts of me were beginning to chime in their approval as well. She had brought me to a room with two chairs and a small table. She sat me down and insisted that I drink the lemonade. After enjoying the show she had displayed, I was more than willing to do what she wanted. After I finished my sip she gave me a look that said, 'I have you now.' I had barely swallowed the lemonade when I began to feel funny. At first my stomach went numb and shortly after my legs and left arm simultaneously lost feeling. My head quickly lolled back as my neck muscles became unresponsive. My head swam as I tried to regain control, but ended up on the floor on my back for my effort. "How nice of you to bring by our new identities." I heard the female voice say. "Your such a good boy. Now all I need now is your car and we can leave you here to die." I could only hear her. My eyes were glued to the ceiling to no want of my own. I could only hear her rummaging through my pockets looking for my keys and wallet. I heard a low male voice say, "We just going to leave him like this? Sure you don't want me to finish him off?" It took me a second to understand they were talking about me. "No," replied the female voice, "the chief said not to worry about it so long as I delete the photos of him taking advantage of me, a poor innocent woman." I heard them both laugh at that as they opened the door. The echoes of their footsteps seemed to take an eternity to cease.

I was grateful that I was unable to feel anything. The moment I heard new footsteps coming into the apartment, I closed my eyes and let go.

The End.