The Invisible Wilson Pitt

[moderate violence] [mild language]

Wilson Pitt walked into the bank. He was making a deposit like he did every Friday. This check was from the US Treasury. It was for $16,000, and when the teller was about to add it to his account, he realized he needed some cash, so he asked for $1,000 back in cash, and the cashier obliged because he had enough to cover it in this account.

About that time, a man walked into the bank looking very nervous. Wilson saw it in the mirror wall behind the teller. Not only were his eyes darting left and right, up and down, but his hands were jittery, and his motions looked like he didn’t know if he really wanted to do what he was about to do. He stood in line, the line next to where Wilson was getting service. The man walked up to the teller. His teller was a beautiful young woman who had trainee written on her name tag. He pulls out a revolver and places the gun on the countertop with the barrel pointed at her. He looks at her and he says, “I’d like to make a withdrawal.”

Something in the way he said those words made Wilson think that didn’t sound right. Wilson glanced over and saw the butt of the revolver protruding from the teller’s window and the look of horror on the woman’s face. Wilson turns slowly toward the man and drops an ink pen at his feet. As the man looked down, he pulled the revolver back so he could move and turn to face Wilson directly. The moment he did that, Wilson had his opening. He grabbed the revolver, depressed the cylinder release, and slapped the cylinder open. The six Bullets, .38 Special noted Wilson, fell out of their cozy place in the chamber and onto the floor. The man was so shocked, he stood motionless. Wilson punched the man in the throat, then in the face with such force that he knocked him out cold. He picked up the revolver with the cylinder open, set it on the counter with the muzzle facing to the left, and went back to his window and finished his transaction. The security guard stood from his table near the door and put handcuffs on the man.

A moment later, the bank manager came running out, asking Wilson why he had attacked that customer. Wilson said, “I didn’t want this woman hurt.” He finished his dealings with his teller and walked out of the bank.

As he was returning home, Wilson’s cell rang and he put it on speaker as he drove.

“This is Detective Jimmy Rogers. May I stop by and talk with you for a few minutes?”

“You may, I assume you got my number and address from the bank.”

“Correct.”

“Come by the house tomorrow after lunch, and we can talk.”

“Thank you. I will see you tomorrow at 1:30 PM.”

The next afternoon, Wilson heard a bell as someone approached the front of his home. He looked at the screens on the wall and saw a single man wearing casual clothing and a jacket. It was 89°F at the moment, so the jacket looked out of place. Meaning he was hiding something, most likely a weapon. He picked up his home defense tool as the man approached the door and knocked. He avoided pressing the bell. Most likely thinking that the recording would begin only after the bell is depressed. He was incorrect.

As Wilson opens the door a small crack, he looks at the man. The guy says he was Detective Rogers, and he has a question or two for him.

“ID,” Wilson said.

The man displayed his badge and flipped it slightly to allow Wilson to see the ID text.

Wilson placed his Canik TP9SFx pistol on the table next to the door. He closed the door and released the catch, which would have made it impossible for someone to force the door open.

He opened the door and said, “Come in, look but don’t touch.”

The detective walked in and looked around, noting the pistol, with a silencer, sitting on the table to his left, with Wilson on his right.

“Do you have other weapons around?” Detective Rogers asked.

Wilson was silent, Rogers said, “I assume that you are authorized to possess items in the ATF NFA?”

Wilson looked him dead in the eye, “I will answer both questions with a single word, yes!”

Before he could speak, Wilson added, “Why are you here?”

The detective opened a notebook and recounted the actions that took place yesterday in the bank.

“Sir! Who are you? It took me almost four minutes to recount the actions I witnessed in the 2 or 3 seconds of recording from the bank cameras.”

Wilson noticed something out the window facing the driveway.

Wilson thought a moment, picked up his phone, and tapped the screen. Twice. Then, he set his phone on the arm of the chair and looked at the detective with a visible but ever so slight grin.

“You really do not want to know that answer.”

He said it not with a conceit, or an overabundance of confidence, but rather with an as-a-matter-of-factness that made the detective stand just a little straighter.

A minute later, a man and a woman walked into the house through the same door. The detective turned to look at the door. The woman picked up the Canik and held it as if watching the two men in the middle of the living room.

Rogers started reaching for his pistol, but Wilson stopped him. A moment later, the man and the woman were on the floor, motionless.

“OK, what the hell is going on!” Rogers yelled, "I have never seen anyone move that fast or kill so efficiently. What are you?”

Wilson looked at him, “Well trained.”

Rogers picked up the Canik and disarmed the two intruders when he realized they were breathing. Placing zip-tie cuffs on the two, he tied their cuffs together, making it difficult for them to get up if they regained consciousness.

A man walked in. He had to duck to get through the door. “Agent Pitt, status?”

“Alpha 96,” responded Wilson.

Rogers looked at him again, “I take it that means well and safe?”

“It does. If I had responded any other way, you would not have been able to ask that question. Now, have a seat, let’s talk while they clean up this mess.”

The detective handed Wilson his pistol back, “Nice choice, by the way,” he said. Opening his jacket to reveal the same pistol, “I really need a second magazine. I picked this up a few weeks ago. By the way, did my looking into the incident at the bank give these two the information they needed to find and, uh, neutralize you?”

“It did. But I was hoping for something of an incident that can be used to draw them out.”

“I guess that makes you a professional target?” Jimmy said, chuckling.

“That it does,” Lurch replied. Picking up the man and woman he left, closing the front door.

“I work for the CIA, specializing in finding moles. Negative influences on our agency, country, whatever. For now, you can call me Wilson Pitt. The two whom I rendered incapacitated are also CIA operatives, but not of the nice variety. They were here to make certain I would become extinct since they knew I was getting close to exposing them, and you would have been collateral damage. They were the two I was looking for, and they will lead us to the rest. The tall man, whom we call Lurch, is my control. When I tapped my phone, he was notified and arrived in less than 4 minutes.”

Rogers said, “Four minutes is a long time.”

For the first time, Wilson smiled, “True. You know how James Bond is licensed to kill….” His voice trailed off.

“I gocha. Now what?” Rogers asked.

Wilson thought for a minute. He looked him in the eye the entire time.

“I believe you are a good cop and trustworthy. If I thought any other way, you would be with our two friends. I have a few law enforcement people around the country like you, people I can trust but do not know a lot. Suffice it to say, if you ever get a note that has Alpha 96, call this number.” He handed him a card, “That is everything I can tell you. This house will be empty tomorrow, and the day after, it will have a new resident. I will put a note in my report that you can be trusted.”

Wilson sat back, placing the Canik, his favorite pistol, on his lap. He looked at Detective Rogers. “May I call you Jimmy?” Rogers nodded, “Thanks. After we talked over the phone yesterday, I did a deep dive into Jimmy Rogers. You are clean, not even a complaint against you. Then I looked harder. No one is that clean. Around 2 a.m., I discovered something.”

Jimmy sat forward, interested to learn what Wilson had learned, “I could not find anything. You really are that clean, honest, and I hope, trustworthy.”

Jimmy started laughing. “Well, I may be clean, but there are times when I bend rules because it is the right thing to do. What is it I can do for you?”

“I know your cell number and your address. If I am in this area and need a place to hide out for a day, I may contact you. The agency, my department, knows about you, also. One day, they may try to recruit you for something. Not a bad gig, but you need to be a light sleeper.”

“I gocha. So, the kid in the bank.”

“I told the bank manager the truth. That young lady was scared to death, and would have made a mistake, and he would have shot her. I fixed the situation.”

“You did that! Well, that’s all I need.” Jimmy stood, as did Wilson.

Wilson handed him two magazines.

“What’s this?” Jimmy asked.

“A gift. You need them anyway, I have enough to start a war. Take these, and you can serve and protect with a higher degree.”

Jimmy started smiling, but accepted the magazines. They were already loaded with ammunition. He looked at the top rounds, “What kind of ammo is that? Some scary CIA thing?”

“No, they are made by a company called Inceptor; they are Inceptor ARX rounds. Better than hollow points, and a little lighter.”

Jimmy grinned, “So glad I found these magazines lying on the ground.” Both grinned slightly, and Jimmy winked at Wilson.

As he left, getting in his car, he parked in a small apartment complex down the street, keeping an eye on Wilson’s house. A van rolled up, and an hour later, it left. Wilson tossed a bag in his trunk and drove off, stopping on the road in front of Jimmy’s car. Wilson waved. He hit the gas and was gone.

Jimmy said to himself, “I wonder how much of that was for my benefit and how much was real. I cannot imagine having a life so secret that if you are ever noticed, you have to move.”

He started his car and headed home. Telling himself he would drive past in a few days to see the new residents.