“Tai the 3rd”

tai, fbi (the 3^rd)

It’s funny how people can see that somehow you just have to end up doing something with some talent you don’t have a clue is so dominant. I bet you knew this is exactly where I would be. Still working for the FBI in my spare time, that is. Only I can’t really say that anymore, can I? Since the only reason it’s a part time job is because nobody in my full time life know about it. But as I was saying, I didn’t know this was what I was going to do with myself from now on.

I could almost say I’m a different person now, but of course I’m not. I’m still me, Tai, girl with a secret identity, girl with a powerful employer, girl with a purpose in life….okay, I’m getting carried away, but I don’t get that chance very often, you know? Anyway, I’m very into making a difference in the world, or at least my part of it, these days. I’m only 20 years old and I’ve already stopped three terrorist attacks, one assassination, and several evil …paperwork… plots (that just doesn’t sound scary no matter how you put it).

Things got harder for me when I moved out of my parents’ home. They were the only ones who knew about me. This is all my parents’ fault, after all. And since my dad retired, they aren’t even “in the game” anymore. I’m my own agent. Literally. It’s been stressful. I was in college at the time all this was happening, and can I just say I don’t know how anybody manages to put on the “Freshman 15”? I didn’t have time to eat, so I definitely lost instead of gained about that time. But that’s beside the point. I ended up living with my pal Samantha in a moderately self-contained suburb. We’d talked about living together for half of forever, but we were both realistic, as well. We might not have expected all those little clashes (she wanted the bathroom pink, for pete’s sake! You can’t blame me for objecting to THAT), but we didn’t panic and blow the whole deal, either. Starting out, Sam and I had a couple college classes together. Sam is more ambitious than I am, so she was working hard, while I was just barely on a full-time student schedule. Somehow in all of our planning for roommate-bliss, we had always pictured changing our personalities and having some kind of wild social life, as well, but it turns out that’s not quite automatic. It was when I got busy with a case (okay, plus I was bored and didn’t see a point to studying any of the stupid stuff they require that I was never gonna use) and ended up dropping out of classes, that I met some interesting people. As a matter of fact, I’ve found you meet 10 times more unique people on a drug bust as you do in school. Isn’t that odd.

* * * *

Sam and I had another problem, as well. That problem is known as “guys”. Sam thinks I have changed since we moved in together. As a matter of fact, she has accused me of loose morals. Me! I couldn’t tell you a single time I’ve had more interest in a guy than an appreciation for strong arms or a tall, lean build (or, okay, I admit it, fashion sense..so sue me!). Of course, I’m pretty annoyed with her for even suspecting something like that of me. The thing is, I can’t explain why I sneak out in the middle of the night. I’ve always thought I was pretty stealthy, but apparently Sam is a Nancy Drew wannabe, because she “just happened” to be up using the bathroom when she heard me come home…or she “couldn’t help but notice” the muddy combat boots by the door that weren’t there the night before. There have been a couple times that an agent will have to come to the door asking for me, and of course there are numerous phone calls from “all sorts of men”, as she puts it. But I can’t help it. And I couldn’t have helped what happened last week at all.

Usually, I work alone. It’s best that way, considering how independent I am. But once in awhile, I have to cooperate with someone who was already on the case or who knows something I need to know. I’ve been working on this wild fraternity case. I know, that doesn’t sound like FBI –type material, and I won’t go into the details, ‘cause it’s classified, but you really wouldn’t believe what some of these foolish college students can get into (or in for, for that matter…we have enough evidence as of last night to be able to put several of them away long enough to keep them from becoming the successes they want so desperately to be for years, if ever). Things got a little hot, however, and Alex, the guy I was working with, and I ended up at my apartment at 3 in the morning putting our stuff together so he could take the case in to present it first thing during normal office hours (what, you think the FBI has 24 hour service?). Of course, we both heard Sam before she walked in to my bedroom, and we shoved everything under the bed and hid before she ever reached the door. Unfortunately, lapse of judgment, sleep-deprivation, or no time to watch any movies (which would show us the error of this kind of behavior), caused us to end up in my bed. Yes, together. He was hiding behind me and I was pretending to sleep. Sam isn’t exactly stupid, so of course we were busted. Sam freaked out. I mean, really, seriously freaked out! We ended up waking up several neighbors, she was yelling so loud. It turns out Alex, who I have only worked with for the past week and don’t know well, suffers from a lack of imagination, so he was no help at all. He was so worried about getting back to the paperwork that he just sat there staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed for the entire conversation. In the end Sam told me she couldn’t just let me mess up my life while we were living together. I was pretty upset, and I really didn’t want to be under the assumption that I was with this …rather bland dude, so I told her (okay, I yelled) it was really none of her business, slammed the door in her face, and then made Alex leave with all the official stuff. I’ve never seen him again, although I did get credit for all my work on that case, and Sam has accepted that I dumped the loser.

I’m pretty unhappy at the mess the FBI has made of my reputation. I’m feeling trapped again, like I have no choice in the matter, and yet I was brought up believing I had a God-given choice in everything, so it’s been difficult.

* * * *

We’re having a get together today. It wasn’t planned, but I guess word got out to our neighbors that two seriously hot-tempered chicks live in this apartment, and everybody wanted to come by to make their speculations, so somehow we ended up with all sorts of people laying around our little living room. Sam is cooking for them so that she doesn’t have to talk, and I…well, I am making my observations, obviously. Our living room and kitchen and dining room are all one. It’s not like we have a huge apartment. We each have a bedroom, and there’s a bathroom, and they all have doors off the living room/kitchen/dining room. This room is a dining room only because we eat at our coffee table, which is actually a clear-top picnic table. We considered getting hammocks or bean bag chairs but decided it was way too artsy-bohemian for us academic types.

The phone rings, and it’s for me. This always happens. I have to go in for an important meeting. The only good thing about my work situation is that it’s mostly independent. Otherwise, it’s not like my employers are really sensitive to scheduling problems. I’m pretty much at their beck-and-call. I know, it’s nuts. The pay isn’t even that good. But it’s SO much fun!

“They’re driving me up the wall. I’m going to run get some more cheez whiz,” I say to Sam.

“Okay…we could probably both go and they wouldn’t even notice.”

“Somebody has to keep an eye on our stuff!”

“Think they’ll steal the big baskets of old magazines?” Sam teases. I leave. Did I mention I have a very cool, very dark car of my own now? Black is the non-seasonal color of the FBI. I’m a regulation girl. Never know when I might need to use it on a case.

When I walk into my meeting with my sometimes-supervisor, Mr. Pent, and I’m introduced to my “new partner, James Estat”, I want to turn around and walk out. The assembled annoyances back at my apartment is sounding more like fun.

“We want you to be more involved in some of our higher-level cases. That means more complicated work. You and James will be working together on a regular basis.”

I look at him as if he has some pent up delusions of grandeur, and then I look at Agent Estat. Who is tall and lean and has got to have the strongest arms I’ve ever seen. “Just what are we supposed to be working on?”

“Tail and calculate, currently. We want you two on the Sahoe kidnapping case.”

“No undercover work?” I’ve got to admit, that’s my favorite part of the job.

“Nothing extra.” At least Mr. Pent realizes what I go through to cover up my work every day of my life. He smiles. His teeth have seen the effects of too much coffee for late night surveillances. I make a mental note to pack a toothbrush in my bag for the upcoming case. “I hear you had a problem with the wrap up for the campus frat case.”

I shrug. I don’t want them to tell me to move out. Sam’s my friend, my only true and normal friend. I need her.

“Since James will be around a lot, you’re going to need to incorporate him into your cover story.”

And as simple as that, I have a boyfriend.

* * * *

This is one of those stories great movies are made out of. Or maybe not great movies, but at least ones that are fun to watch. All this kind of far-out story requires is a cute leading man, which I have, and somebody for comic relief. I’m playing my own comic relief at the moment. I made myself laugh hysterically when I got back to my apartment that afternoon. There were still people lounging all over the living room, and several of them were waiting on the Cheez Whiz, which I handed over and warned them not to eat out of the jar. Apparently, that was pretty funny. Pushing some drunk guy (how he got drunk, I don’t know, since Sam and I don’t have any liquor) into one of the tall baskets sitting around our apartment got a lot of laughs, as well. I found Sam huddling in the bathroom, so I threw them all out.

Then I started to clean. I never thought I was one of those people who clean when they’re upset before, but who knows. It could still turn out that way, because I was still cleaning when James showed up. My date. Sam didn’t look at me. She just said hello to him, and then walked out the door. I stood up, looked at him in his great outfit, and told him I had forgotten all about him and he’d have to wait for me to change if he still wanted to go. He smiled. I think he knew I was attempting to exercise any power of choice I still maintained.

“I’ll wait. You’re worth it.” Seriously, he actually said that. I showered. He waited.

I don’t have much of a temper, really. I wasn’t mad at James, and so now was the time to be nervous. Before the night ended, we’d have to come up with a plausible date story for Sam.

* * * *

Stakeouts are not interesting. In fact, if you’re not with a decent conversationalist, the only thing that’s gonna get you through is lots of caffeine and maybe some crossword puzzles. I only do the ones that are about movies and celebrities. I’m remarkably shallow, so what. I had brought along several of the People magazine crosswords, determined to not rely on my partner for amusement. He, however, was happy to get involved in my games. I never realized I love a persistent man.

The crosswords didn’t last very long between the two of us, but the car wasn’t quite so stuffy afterwards. We were watching from a position strategically placed to be in the shadows, so no one could tell we were sitting there. Another agent had tagged along to be the driver, parking and leaving us hiding in the car, in case there were observers. Actually, I’ve been caught in these parked car situations before. Guess what a good cover story always is? I consider myself a bit of an actress. I figure I deserve it after all the “stage kissing” I’ve been caught up in.

In the house we were watching resided one suspect of the many listed on the Sahoe kidnapping case. Angeline Sahoe was a young girl who had disappeared, leaving her politically-ambitious parents with a frantic cover-up and no ransom demands. The case was important and under-wraps, and there were numerous agents all over the city tonight watching an enormous list of suspected kidnappers.

“This says Angeline has a twin,” Tai read off the case papers. “Her parents must not be having too hard a time keeping her disappearance off the news.”

“Is she identical?” James asked.

Tai held up a picture. “They must have gotten through that whole needing-their-own-identity crisis. Even the hair’s the same.”

James smiled, then paused. “Watch it,” he directed her eyes to the house and Tai picked up her night-vision binoculars.

Two men pulled up and got out of the car with several bags. The bags all said “Hasting’s”.

James and Tai looked at each other. “Who buys books at 1 o’clock in the morning?”

* * * *

It wasn’t much to go on, but the Bureau agreed that a supposedly-male household buying a dozen Harlequin romance novels, 3 Freddie Prinze Jr films, and a couple boy-group cds was worth more investigation.

“I’ve been sitting outside houses for a week watching nothing but garbage men and stray cats. You must be lucky, Tai,” James said before they parted outside the offices the next morning. Tai smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Get some sleep,” he replied.

“Yah right,” Tai mumbled. She was unbelievably glad she hadn’t enrolled in college this semester, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be left alone for an entire day. When she got home, Tony was sitting on her doorframe. Tony was a guy she’d worked with on a case a few months ago. He’d been working inside a drug running operation for months and was in horrible shape by the time a large group of other agents, including Tai, who had been working with the technical crew, had captured the druggies. Tai hadn’t seen him since he started detox.

“Tony! You look so much better!”

“Hi, Tai,” he uncurled from his spot on the floor. “Thanks. You been on a stakeout? You’ve got that look.”

“That look of exhaustion? Yeah, that’s me.” Tai unlocked the door. “How long have you been here?”

“Not too long. But your friend wouldn’t let me in. She said something about ‘Tai keeping her friends on her time’ and left a few minutes ago.”

“Uh huh,” I managed to sound unaffected, and prepared to listen to Tony’s problems. He was still talking when James called at noon.

“Want lunch? I’ve got an idea for us.”

“Do you want to come here? I’ve got company,” I said. “Another agent.”

“Trying to replace me already?”

I winced. Unbelievable, this guy was. “Come on over. I’m sure we have something to eat.”

Tony knew who James was. “Man, we all know how favored an agent you are with the head men. You don’t get a rep like that for nothin’!”

“Why on earth did they decide you need a partner?” I asked him. She had told them to find their own food, so James was digging around in the refrigerator.

“Two is better than one, you know,” James said, glancing over the top of the door.

“Congratulations,” Tony interjected. I tried not to look too shocked.

We needed to use Angeline’s twin as bait. James was a bold thinker, but we all knew that the Bureau would never go for it without a pretty darn good reason.

“We don’t even know if these people are the kidnappers,” I said.

“I talked to Adelia, the twin. She thinks that’s where Angeline is. She says her sister would be kept busy by the kinds of things we found out they bought at Hasting’s! She wants to help. She won’t encounter any more danger than what Angeline is in, and we’ll be right there! We just need to find out, and this is the fastest way to do it.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” I replied calmly. “It sounds like a good plan but we’re going to need backup.” Tony opened his mouth and I told him to close it. “You’re just getting back into the job. You need to be extra careful with yourself, pal.”

Tony shrugged. “I still have a little pull with the big guys. I handled that case in the end, and at the Bureau, the end justifies the means.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“Only if the media agrees,” I retorted.

“We bring the girl in, and you, and me, and James, and we all spring the plan on Pent, and I think we’ll get the clearance.”

And so we did. Let me just explain right now, not all of my cases happen this fast. First of all, I’m in the background most of the time, just following up leads that are close to my position, sometimes tailing somebody. I was involved in a high speed chase, like, once, and half of my cases are something I’ve managed to stumble into on accident. A lot of those I don’t even get left on, either. Still, things have picked up a little recently, since I made it apparently that I was ready to give my full-time attention to the FBI. They had me in training –weapons, self-defense, that kind of thing. It’s actually a lot of fun, and a little scary.

“Does anybody call you Jamie?” I asked my partner (yes, I’ve succumbed; I was never that stubborn in the first place) as we waited outside of the suspects’ house yet again that night.

“Only my mother,” he responded.

“Good,” I said. “Here we go. They’ve noticed her. Okay, they’re grabbing her. Did we get all that on the tape?”

“We got it, time to get in there.” He was immediately signaling the rest of the agents to cover the perimeter, and then we made a run for the house. There’s none of those ridiculous hand signals in the FBI. We’re more advanced. We use walkie-talkies.

“Take the right, Jamie,” I said, heading for the patio door on the left.

“Watch your back, Theresa,” he hissed back. Shoot, he’s found me out.

I immediately came upon a bad-guy guard. I was totally ready to put my new kickboxing techniques to work, but one of our backup agents was right behind me, and took it upon himself to take care of my attacker. I didn’t have time to roll my eyes, so I just headed for the stairs. “Andy! Angie!” The homing device (yes, we still use those) indicated that she was behind the first door on the second floor. They both were, in fact. They were onto us, there were lots of them, and I was all alone.

And so I fought. Fighting is amazing, but I already had a feeling it would be, so I can’t say that only someone who has had this experience understands that. The thing is, it’s only after you’ve lost that restraint that keeps our culture from physical expressions of anger and fear that you feel the freedom that ends up seeping into all areas of your life, sort of like how crying at sappy movies keeps you from choking on tears you try not to cry for something in real life.

The room was soon swarming with other agents, and I stepped back to the twins, who were huddled together on the floor outside the room, so I took charge of them, putting an arm around each and herding them downstairs. “Are you okay, Angeline?” I asked.

She nodded vigorously, holding hands with her brave sister behind my back. “You did great, Andy,” I told the other girl. I had discovered she’s called Andy when she was flirting with James in front of me. Danger brings out the strangest things in people, really.

There was some noise on the bottom floor as we headed down, and I could hear someone yelling: “What is going on here?! I know Tai is here! What are you doing to her?” Was that …Sam?

James looked up, glanced over me and the two girls, and then smiled tightly. “Your roommate apparently followed you here.”

Everyone was looking at me. “Don’t blame me! She’s obviously a ...natural sleuth,” I said weakly. I looked past all the handcuffed kidnappers and at my friend, who was in the grip of two of the agents who had been placed as guards outside. “Hi, Sam.”

* * * *

And so, that’s how Sam came to help me out in my FBI work. Believe me, it helps a lot to not have to hide my life from my best friend. The only downside is that now she worries about me…and maybe that she thinks I should get together with my partner, James. Jamie and I definitely get along. We’re a great team, so that I almost don’t know how to do anything when I work a case alone now. Scary, I know. James charmed Sam, of course, and my parents adore him, so it’s almost like one of those “happily ever after” things. Since I don’t really believe in that, I’ve been trying to reconcile the idea in my mind lately.

I think people want to be in love because they want to make life a little more personal. See, the thing is, there’s really no reason to do anything if you have no purpose. Purpose is a hard thing to come across in this world. Doing something for someone else may not be the best reason to live in the world, but at least it’s something. I may be some kind of hot shot FBI agent, but that only keeps me busy enough to temporarily forget how little meaning there is in this world. I’m happy, because I believe I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing right now. I’ll never fall into that trap of thinking once I’ve found something right, it’ll never be wrong.

It turns out that “end up” weren’t the right words for when I was saying I didn’t know I would be into this kind of work. Because nothing about life is truly permanent, you know? Life is constant change, and I for one am glad I am living on my toes at all times. I’m finally ready. I know that seems like an odd thing to say at the end of a story. But we both know this isn’t really the end. It never is.

* * * *