Night Watch of the Night Watch

It was only his third shift working nights as a security officer in The Astrid apartment building downtown. For all intent and purpose, it was a cake job with little concern for imposition. By day he worked as a tech analyst which was considerably more fulfilling and held esteem among his family and peers. However, twenty-eight-year-old Grayson Morgan was recently informed of his completely unexpected and somewhat undesired pending paternal status resulting in his desperation for more money. Damn his lack of impulse control after a few shots of tequila. She is pretty, but good looks and proper hygiene aren’t valid arguments for the romantic notion of soulmates. Grayson wished he thought more highly of her, the way she did him; filled with blind faith and delusions of grandeur. The cold truth was simple and not likely to change; he didn’t love her, the mother of his child, the woman in the blue dress at the bar that night, four short months ago. 

Grayson reluctantly punched in his personal security code and entered the cramped observation room; facetiously referred to by the staff as “the closet”. He greeted the man sitting in one of the two desk chairs in front of a slew of monitors positioned strategically across the L-shaped desk against the far and left walls. “Billy, what’s the good word?” he asked awkwardly. Billy Stoltz, a retired detective with an aversion to spending time at home in front of the television, ironically opted for watching monitors all day, in a closet offering nothing more exciting than the routine comings and goings of the handful of tenants inhabiting the building. Billy adored The Astrid and all its reverence and affluence. He had a personal attachment and took his job as chief security officer very seriously, despite his authority over only two other employees, including Grayson. He stood, grunted, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and exited the office. Grayson settled in the vacated seat, propped his feet on the edge of the desk and turned to the central monitor, observing Billy at the elevators on his way to apartment 4B where he lived. “Have a good night you cranky old coot.” 

Grayson briefly scanned the monitors in front of him, detecting a dark SUV parked against the curb perpendicular with the front doors of The Astrid. He hypothesized the unfamiliar vehicle as belonging to a car service, or simply someone pulling over to check their GPS, or take an important call. It was the city after all and not every uncommon sight meant ill intent. He reached for his phone, scrolled for music and engaged his app. Soothing and time consuming, the classic rock station pumped out his favorites through his earbuds, making a mental note to keep one eye on that vehicle. During the day, Esme, the doorwoman, kept watch over their little slice of the street, but after seven p.m. it was up to the monitors and the scheduled surveyor. 

Special agent Delaney Keenan squirmed anxiously in the back of the agency sanctioned SUV. Her father’s twin brother and head of the organization grew increasingly annoyed with her impatience and blatant insubordination. He tried to reason with her but having an in-depth conversation through coms was less than optimal. “Uncle Brandon, if you are the one who wrote the agency protocol, couldn’t you also be the one who alters it?” Her inflection was borderline audacious, as she intentionally took advantage of their familial bond. 

“Delaney, after the last kidnapping debacle, the implementation of partner assignment is non-negotiable, even for you. Especially for you.” 

“Ha, you know damn well, I was never in any real peril with those peace, love and light, patchouli sniffing, simple minded cult leader loving imbeciles.”  

Brandon sighed. He loved her as if she were his own but damn, his only niece and arguably most talented agent could be exasperating. “Del, we are far from finished, but yeah, we’re wasting time and you’re expected, so we’ll table this for now. Have fun and please send my regards, won’t you?”

Delaney exited the vehicle and watched her driver pull away from the curb. She hurried to the doors, trying to outwit the biting November wind by tucking her chin into the lapels of her coat. Freeing her right hand from her glove with her teeth, she pressed six consecutive digits on the keypad, unlocking the apartment building doors. Delaney hoped the security officer was paying attention as she shook her head, flapping the glove back and forth, much like a puppy with a chew toy. A childlike giggle escaped from behind the leather glove as she yanked on the vintage door handle, releasing the right side from its conjoined counterpart with an audible click.  Delaney entered the foyer, pausing a few steps in to admire and appreciate the vintage art deco interior design, complete with patterned black and brassy gold wallpaper and paneled smokey glass sconces. The subtle yellowing of the marble alluded to her age in contrast with the updated polish and paint. Astrid was a classy lady for sure. Delaney imagined Dorothy feeling similar as she emerged from her monotonous farmhouse, into the wonderment of Oz. This was going to be fun.

Standing in the center of the foyer, Delaney twirled several times with her arms extended. Although she was aware of the lack of audio capability in regard to the building's security, she still wore her coms and was directly linked to Uncle Brandon, “Honey, I’m home.” she shouted, steadying her dizzy head by focusing on a floral centerpiece near the elevators. “Whoa, what a rush.” She reached behind her neck and tugged at her hair, freeing it from the confines of her winter wool coat and peacock blue pashmina. Her auburn waves fell around her shoulders and framed her face as she intentionally turned in the direction of the security camera mounted above the elevator behind the decorative mirrored glass. Under the guise of checking her reflection, Delaney pursed her lips and batted her eyes as she spoke to no one but Brandon, nestled in her ear, strategically concealed by her hair. “Aside from stripping down right here in the foyer, any suggestions as to how I’m supposed to ensure the attention of our target subject?” 

“Keep your clothes on, I’m just waiting on audio and visual confirmation. Keep talking to yourself, I’m sure that will do it.” 

The confirmation came by way of yet another disembodied voice through her coms, “Testing, if you’re with me, give me a signal.” Delaney obliged by throwing up double peace signs, Nixon style. 

“Well now, it seems to me if our subject is truly worthy, he’d figure I was chatting over Bluetooth. Shall I dispel that theory by exposing my ears? I promise; that’s the only body part I will unveil, at least for now.” 

Brandon replied, "Maybe. Yeah, go ahead and do the hair tuck. I’ll check with our eyes and ears for any obvious signs of interest.” 

“Roger that.” she teased, tucking her hair behind both ears with evident exaggeration.

“Del he’s already headed to you. Be advised, my visual has him leaving the security office with a taser.” 

“Oh, boys and their toys. What fun would this be without a few obstacles? Let’s hope I don’t wind up writhing on the floor peeing myself.” 

Nearly a minute passed before Delaney felt a presence behind her as she stood in front of the elevator doors, seemingly confused as to whether she should press the button summoning the lift. “Hmmm,” she mused aloud, “Now which floor was I supposed to go to?” Delaney tilted her head and twirled a lock of her hair. Slowly and intentionally, she rotated to her left catching a peripheral glimpse of the security officer on duty. “You there, which floor is my meeting on? I seem to have misplaced the information.” 

Grayson smiled slyly and raised his right hand ever so slightly; just enough to present the taser it held without an obvious gesture of threat. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you, but I think you may have the wrong building. You should probably leave.” He tapped the taser against his left palm, accentuating its presence. 

Delaney stepped forward, startling Grayson “Whoa there Inspector Gadget, holster your trusty sidearm before you accidentally hurt yourself.” The voice in her ear interjected, “Go easy on him Del. If things work out, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make him regret his decisions.”  She laughed, “Shut it Jiminy Cricket, I got this.” 

“So, am I Inspector Gadget or Jiminy Cricket?” 

“Gadget. Jiminy is in my ear. Listen, I need to find that damn slip of paper with my meeting details on it. Can you just give me a few minutes before you toss me out in the cold?”

He stared at her, as if he had no choice. She wore her eye make-up entirely too thick and dark, but the contrast between the black and gray mica and the brilliant green of her irises made them impossible to avoid. “Damn.” Grayson placed the taser back in the pocket of his uniform slacks and gestured toward the circular sofa near the far wall. “You have five minutes before I escort you from my building.” 

Jiminy piped up, “His attraction to you is evident, even through my monitors. It could present a problem we hadn’t anticipated. Keep him talking kid; let’s see where he goes.” 

“This is unfortunate. Are you certain, I mean how much can you see and hear anyway?”

Grayson assumed she was awkwardly inquiring about his position as a security guard and answered as if the question was his to answer. “I can see everything on my monitors in the office, but there’s no audio. That would be entirely too invasive, don’t you think?” 

Jiminy chuckled, “I can hear and see everything. I’m no slouch when it comes to setting up surveillance.”

“Oh, Gadget, I was talking to Jiminy. But I’m relieved to know you aren’t listening in on the private conversations of the residents. I am curious though; if you could, would you?” Although she addressed Grayson directly, Delaney wondered what Jiminy's answer would be as well. 

As if he read her mind, “I would not!” Jiminy declared.

“Not if it meant losing my job. I Just found out I’m going to be a father.” Grayson immediately regretted his confession. “Hey, sorry. I’m not sure why I told you that.”

Delaney smiled sympathetically, but before she could summon an appropriate response, Uncle Brandon barked loud and clear through her coms, “Abort! We cannot in all good faith move forward with this, knowing the risk.” 

“Abort?” she blurted out loud before realizing the unfortunate double entendre. 

“Ok, I think it’s time you leave. I know I started this conversation but that was beyond rude and inappropriate.” His face flushed with anger and embarrassment as he suppressed the urge to grab her and physically throw her into the street. 

Delaney began to apologize, but she knew it would be for naught, “I’m calling an audible. Jiminy, show yourself. Grayson, please, give me a minute before you demand I leave.” 

Her sudden change in tone as well as demeanor was perplexing enough for his interest to be peaked. “Fine, you have one minute, and how do you know my name?" 

She stood and gestured to the sofa, “Have a seat.” 

The tinny ding of the elevator bell sounded, echoing through the foyer of The Astrid. Both Grayson and Delaney turned their attention to the doors as they opened to reveal Jiminy’s true identity. Retired detective and former special agent William “Billy” Stoltz exited the lift and walked toward Grayson and Delaney, hands open and out as if he were surrendering. 

Grayson leapt to his feet, “Billy, is everything ok, out for a late evening stroll?” 

“Not exactly Grayson.” Billy placed his hand on Delaney’s shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. “Hey kiddo, long time, huh?” 

She threw her arms around his neck, “Jiminy!” she teased, “This went sideways fast now, didn’t it?” 

“My fault entirely. My intel was incomplete.” 

Grayson grew agitated, “Now would be a great time to clue me in on what the hell is happening.” 

“Have a seat, son. I’m afraid I am the responsible party for this evening's antics. You see, I’m not only a retired detective, I am also a former special agent. My good friend Brandon Keenan, the director of FAE and his beautiful niece have been contemplating a partner for Delaney. Finding someone with the chops to not only become a field agent but have complete compatibility with Agent Keenan is a daunting task. I have been so impressed with you since you started working here at the Astrid, I suggested Brandon and Delaney meet you. However, we cooked up this scheme just in case you were not a viable candidate. We wanted to see how you conducted yourself around someone exhibiting strange behavior. If you fell short of expectations, Delaney would simply leave, and you’d be none the wiser. I was just the man behind the monitors, making sure things did not escalate in any way.” 

Grayson swallowed hard, “I have no words.” 

“Billy was my eyes and ears, he’s a trusted compatriot.” Brandon interjected. “He was able to hack the building surveillance and implement audio. Of course, he was also on coms with Delaney and me.” 

“He can’t hear you.” reminded Delaney.

“Then tell him.” 

Grayson tried to make sense of everything, to no avail. “I’m still quite confused, but I have to ask; how did I do?”

Delaney spoke first, “You were doing really well. I was impressed with your compassion and air of authority. However, our organization requires taking risks on the regular. It would be reckless for you to continue to interview with us. You have a baby to consider; one who will need his or her father around more than you’d be if you were to become an agent. Director Keenan was the one who gave the order to abort, meaning halt the interview. It was my mistake for repeating his order before I realized what I had said. I hope you can at least forgive me for that. I would never be so bold or heartless.” 

Brandon added, “Honestly, I would have offered the opportunity to him had there not been unforeseen circumstances.” 

Once again, Delaney delivered Brandon’s words.

“I told you he was a stand-up guy.” Billy couldn’t mask his disappointment. “You’re a great kid. I hope I can count on your discretion, and we can remain friends.” 

“Thanks Billy, I appreciate your faith in me but now that I know I was being considered, shouldn’t I have a say in what happens next?” Grayson stood and confidently addressed Delaney asking her to relay his request to Brandon, “Sir, if you’ll agree, I’d like to continue this interview. I believe I am at least worthy of a fair chance and a face-to-face meeting.”

Delaney giggled at Grayson's lack of coms knowledge but was admittedly impressed by his tenacity. “Oh, Gadget, you might just be as crazy as I am.”