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The Cassidy Chronicles - Chapter Twenty-Eight

We finally got home and dealt with the fucking lawyer.


I hate lawyers.

Always have.

Laws are there to trap good people into doing "bad" things, and lawyers are the ones who execute the traps.

Screw them.

Anyways, while we were dealing with lawyers, Amanda had her own problems.

Heh heh.

Chapter 28: A Dirty Job

“The subscriber you are attempting to reach is not accepting calls at this time. Please try your call again later or, if you believe you have reached this message in error, hang up and try again.”

Talbott didn’t say anything but slammed the comm into the desk.

She heard the same message an average of three times a day for the past two weeks. She could reach out to Kaine at his office, but she was reluctant to do that. Discretion was a hallmark of OutLook, and doubly so now since these contracts were officially “off the books.” Besides, Kaine didn’t take out the arrangements himself. He was simply the mouthpiece for the actual purchaser. She still didn’t know the true identity, but she was getting closer to figuring it out.

She didn’t have any other options for contact. Emails were a truly awful idea in her line of work. The less memorialized, the better, and, again, doubly so here. That didn’t stop her from keeping her own notes as an insurance policy on her personal server. Just in case someone decided to get squirrely about leaving witnesses.

Somehow, the whole thing had gone pear-shaped. It wasn’t Talbott’s arrangements. She was a pro, after all. No, it had to be the incompetence of the people and organizations she was forced to deal with. Williamson and his joke of a crime family in the Valley? Ha! The only reason he was afloat was because of Kimball and lingering respect for the memory of his father. She figured that would last another six months, tops, before the other families sharpened their knives.

And how did Kaine ever rise so high in such a big company? His greed and pettiness reached epic proportions. The security forces he could muster were no better than standard rent-a-cop, one each, for the most part. Oh, there were a couple exceptions, but on the whole, she would have been better off recruiting a platoon of Girl Scouts to provide support. Still, he had access to a good network of corrupt cops. She’d have to see about rolling it up and incorporating it into her string after this little speedbump.

Sighing, Talbott decided to move on to other issues. She opened a file on her desk and reviewed the names. They were all overdue for their assignments, none answering their comms, and none responding to messages. That wasn’t entirely unusual. Despite her best efforts at training and enforcement, once agents got into the field, they tended to be lackadaisical about checking in unless their ass was in a crack. Nine agents dropping off within a week was unusual, but not enough for her to spend more than a few minutes thought before moving on.

Then she had the problem of Agents McAllister and Montana and the damage they’d done escorting that miserable, pain-in-the-ass, overbearing scientist! Talbott cut that train of thought off. She’d been over it and over it in her head, and she still couldn’t figure out how Cassidy, no, not Cassidy, Foster-Briggs, had flipped them so quickly. Facts were facts, though, and the fact was Mac and Montana had made their choice, for whatever reason. They’d pretty conclusively burned their bridges at OutLook.

One of these days, they’d screw up. And when they did, Talbott would be there like the hammer of Lucifer to pound them into the ground. Still, it never hurt to have some insurance. She picked up the comm and placed a call.

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