Man On A Mission 1

Brandon worked at his desk catching up on some project planning progress charts that he had neglected while actually doing the projects. This was a regular finish-before-end-of-day-Friday routine. His office sat at the back of a larger room of work spaces on the ground floor of an old mission style building. He had learned to tune out the hourly chime of the clock tower but today he was mindful of the time because he planned to have a lunch meeting with Facilities to finalize the work schedule before the upgrade began a couple weeks from now.

Brandon barely registered the sound of the main door opening and as he reached for his phone. He was dialing the extension for his co-worker when a currier arrived at is desk. Huh, he thought. Curriers were not very common here as they were in larger cities. He wondered if this one needed directions. Brandon wasn't expecting anything. Anything he was expecting would come through the company mail distribution anyway.

Hanging up the phone, Brandon asked, "Can I help you with something?"

"I have a package for Mr. Brandon Smith," the young currier said. He was obviously one of the local college students. Young, well mannered, but obviously wishing he was somewhere else.

"I'm he," Brandon said, puzzled. He stretched out his hand to take the package but the currier pivoted away and instead pushed a clipboard toward Brandon.

"Please sign here, Sir," and indicated where to sign with the pen.

Brandon signed and again reached for the package. As the man handed over the parcel he thanked Brandon and wished him a good day. Brandon was frowning over the package and wondered what could be in the large white envelope. It had no return address to give him a clue. No marking or logo to give a hint.

He turned the envelope over and ran his fingers under the tab to break the seal. Then he slid the contents out into his palm. Clipped with a black office clip were several pages of a document and a hand written note on the front.

It read: B., Are you up for something adventurous this weekend? xox K.

Excitement spread through his belly like fire making his eyes grow wide in anticipation. He quickly flipped to the first type written page.

Your Mission if you should choose to accept it:

You will be flying to Phoenix, Arizona and, upon your arrival, will assume the alias Josh Williams. Details are included in this packet. Memorize and discard upon landing.

Your airline tickets are included in this packet. If you check your gym bag that you brought with you to work this morning you will find that it has been repacked with the items that will be needed for your mission this weekend.

Holy shit, Brandon thought as he continued to read. Everything looked so official. Kristen had really gone overboard this time. He went on.

The next page had a 3x3 picture of his wife paper clipped to the upper right hand corner of the page. She was definitely his wife but she looked...different. She wasn't dressed in clothes he recognized and her hair was styled differently. The photo was taken from far away and zoomed in so it was grainy. It was dark, not quite black and white, but like the camera was of lower quality than regular personal photos. Like a security tape? he thought. In the photo she was leaning into a window like at the DMV or a ticket counter and looked as though she was trying to hear what the not-pictured person on the other side of the counter was saying.

To the left of the photo read:

Subject Name: UNKNOWN

Alias(es): Rebecca Gentry

Age: approx. 35

Occupation: Business Consultant

Last known location: Chicago, IL en route to Phoenix, AZ

Whoa. What? Brandon was having trouble taking in what he was reading. He looked back to his innocent looking gym bag sitting on the floor behind his chair. He reached over and pulled it into his lap. When he unzipped the main zipper the bag fell open to reveal several sets of clothes, a pair of shoes, his toiletry bag, and swim suit. With eyebrows raised in astonishment his gaze slid back to the documents on his desk.

He turned the page over and found the next item to be another envelope. This one was smaller and full. He slid it out of the clip and opened it. Inside he found round trip plane tickets to and from Phoenix, AZ. Behind that was a prepaid parking receipt for the local airport parking lot. He flipped back to the plane tickets and noted the departure date and time. Today. What?! Leaving at 1:50pm. Shit! Brandon glanced at his watch. It was five to 12:00.

He sat thinking for a moment, too stunned to react. Then, in a sudden burst of energy, he sprang into action. He threw the documents into the envelope they arrived in and shoved them into his gym bag. As he stood up he fished his cell phone from his pocket and as he ran with his bag from his office he called and left a message that he would have to reschedule that lunch meeting because something came up. They would believe him because he was practically shouting as he ran from the building and toward his car in the lot.

He clicked the fob to unlock the car and he threw the bag in unceremoniously to the passenger seat and jumped into the car. He sped toward the airport at the other end of town. Every red light he hit threw him into a new panic. Was he going to make it in time to catch his flight? When the light became green again he stepped on the gas pedal and wove around a couple of slower cars to get ahead of the wolf pack.

Brandon practically flung the car into the prepaid parking lot at the airport, tossed the receipt onto the dash, grabbed his bag and slammed the car door as he fled in the direction of the terminal. As he ran he held the key remote over his shoulder pointed back toward the car he was hastily abandoning and clicked twice. The car honked twice as if to encourage him, "Go, Quick!"

At the ticket counter he showed ID and his ticket before being waved through to security. It was 1:07 when he finally found himself in the line taking off his shoes and placing everything he had in his pockets in to a grey plastic bin on the conveyor belt. Mentally he was thankful that he lived in a small area that only had one small airport because at a larger airport he would have never had enough time to get through to his gate before the plane departed.

Stepping through security, he picked up his items and bag from the conveyor and walked in his socks to the chairs by the window. He joined the thirty or so people that waited for the same flight and put his shoes and watch back on. Brandon sat back in the chair and retrieved the envelope from his bag again. He flipped to the Subject Page, looked at the odd photo of his wife, or rather, Rebecca Gentry, again, and then turned one more page.

Assignment: To make contact with the subject. Initial rendezvous should be at the airport bar adjacent the arrival gate.

Engage subject in conversation and secure contact with subject for the next 48 hours. You are to learn everything you can about the Subject by ANY means necessary.

Warning! Your alias must remain intact. You must not let her know that you are not who you say you are when you make initial contact.

Any means necessary? Brandon thought. A smile crept across his face thinking of the possibilities. He turned to the last page.

Alias: Josh Williams

Age: 38

Occupation: Owner, Integrated Business Solutions, creating custom technology system infrastructure for businesses of all sizes. (I.B.S., that's funny, Kristen, he thought.)

Cover Story: Traveling on business to look into opening an office in the Phoenix area. Staying at a friend's vacation home in the area.

Josh is several years divorced with amiable relationship with his ex-wife, no children. Dates regularly but has not had a steady relationship in over two years. Spends a lot of his time building and expanding his business and on hobbies. He currently resides in the Bay Area.

Brandon reread the page a couple of times trying to remember the details. There was a lot to remember but also it seemed like not enough to fill in a whole person. He supposed that he was to fill in the blanks himself as things moved along. He read it again. Could he really be "Josh" for a weekend? Maybe it would be like British actors who have to speak with an American accent in a movie. Once he got comfortable with doing it he would be able to keep it going. Maybe.

The call for his flight was announced and he collected his things and headed for the attendant with his boarding pass in his hand. He exited through the door following the line of passengers out to the tarmac and to the small jet that awaited them. The warm wind blew through his hair and ruffled the back of his shirt against his back. He noticed none of it, as he was lost in his thoughts. In fact, Brandon was only vaguely aware of all the preflight routines until the plane raced down the runway and lifted into the air.

It wasn't until he watched his town shrink away from him that he had a sudden panicked thought. Who's taking care of the kids? Cell phones were still restricted until they reached cruising altitude and on this short flight they may not ever lift the ban. He reassured himself that Kristen went through all this trouble to set up this elaborate weekend, there was no way she forgot to make arrangements for their children. He relaxed back against his seat again and continued his thoughts about what the weekend would hold and how the hell did Kristen plan all of this?

*****

A little over an hour later, Brandon felt the plane begin it's decent. The view through the window was no longer of rolling oatmeal color coastal hills but of barren flat land with beautiful warm orange-red rock formations jutting out of the ground. Phoenix looked hot even if he couldn't feel it in the climate-controlled plane yet.

Brandon swallowed back his nervousness. Now that he was landing and knew that his wife was (hopefully) in the airport waiting for him as someone else and expecting him to be someone else, he was having doubts.

When the seatbelt lights chimed off everyone stood at once and collectively gathered their things. Brandon moved slowly through the narrow aisle as people disembarked the plane into the terminal. With his bag over is shoulder he walked toward the main area passed the gate desk and rows of chairs. There were several retail and culinary choices available to travelers: the News Stand, TCBY, the Native American Gift kiosk, a pizza place, Cinnabon, McDonald's, and an Irish Pub (really? in Phoenix?). He stopped and stared at the entrance to the pub, which must be the place Kristen intended for him to meet her. He gathered his courage and strode toward the entrance.

The pub was darker than the terminal outside. It was decorated in dark wood paneling, dark green paint on the upper half of the walls, and dark green carpeting. The large room was partitioned off into smaller sections by half walls with wood spindles on top that reached the ceiling but were spaced far enough that you could pass a beer through them. The bar was along the left side and had the poles with retractable cords to mark off where the line was to form. Also, the place was packed with people. Brandon decided to begin with the line for drinks while he perused the bar for his wife.

He spotted her as he was picking up his beer at the "pick up" side of the bar. She sat in the corner reading a magazine by herself at a small table with two chairs. Brandon smiled when he saw her. She was very beautiful, dark chestnut hair, usually in waves that laid on her shoulders, and bright green eyes. But today, she was not Kristen. She was Rebecca, Rebecca Gentry. And Rebecca's hair was nearly black and was straight and sleek, framing her face. She wore flattering rectangular glasses that made her eyes shine even in the dim light. Brandon's heart gave a thud. He knew this was really his wife but why did he feel a bit like he was doing something wrong? Like he was cheating.

He walked carefully through the crowd of people and noticed that all of the chairs and tables were taken. People were even standing in small groups, as there were not enough places to sit. But there was one chair available at the table where Rebecca sat. Brandon approached and stood for half a heart beat by the open chair. Rebecca did not look up but continued to read her magazine and sip her bottle of beer.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you mind if I share your table with you?" Brandon said and gestured around at the crowded room as if to explain the need to intrude.

"Um, sure. That's fine with me", she replied with a polite smile and absolutely no hint of recognition on her face. He really could have been a stranger. How did she do this? Brandon's heart was hammering in his chest.

"Thank you," he said as he took the seat. He put the bag under his chair, took a sip from his draft beer and set the mug on the table. He looked at her not knowing what to say next. "Are you heading in or out today?" he finally asked.

Rebecca looked up like she was surprised to find someone talking to her. He noticed that her very businesslike blouse was unbuttoned just one button too far for work and he glimpsed the edge of her lacey bra and the full round mound of her breast. His mouth became very dry. He took another sip of beer. "Well, I was supposed to be meeting my sister here for the weekend. My flight came in a little bit ago and I was waiting for her plane to arrive so we could go to our hotel together but I just got a text from her that her son became really sick with the stomach flu this morning and she can't make it. So, I am sitting here trying to decide if I should stay and try to enjoy my weekend on my own or if I should change my return flight and head right back home."

She glanced down like she was a little embarrassed at having confessed so much to a stranger that probably did not want more than polite chitchat. Then she gave an apologetic smile. "How about you? Coming in or going out?" She set her magazine flat on the table and picked up her bottle. She didn't drink from it, just held it in her hands on her lap and sat back waiting for his answer.

"In," he said. "Just coming in and here on potential business." He added with a shy smile. Brandon liked seeing his wife this way. Seeing her anew and differently. Seeing her as another man might see her. Brandon had loved Kristen his whole adult life; many years now, and was maybe realizing now that he took her beauty and her interest for granted. But not right now, "Rebecca" had his attention in a way he had not felt in a very long time. Without any overt effort on her part his body was responding to hers. His cock lay semi-hard and slightly uncomfortable under his pants zipper and the scent of her perfume (Kristen doesn't wear perfume!) was intoxicating; making him have to concentrate on his words to make them come out coherently.

"Oh? What is your potential business?" she asked with genuine interest and leaning forward slightly. The little hollow that formed at her clavicle when she leaned in left him with an almost irresistible urge to press his lips to her neck and breathe in that heady scent she wore.

"I own my own business; custom technology systems in the Bay Area. Computers, networks, security, phone systems, AV conferencing and presentation rooms, secure data storage, etcetera," Brandon rattled of with a shrug, like he assumed she would find it boring. He was pleased with himself that he sounded so convincing.

"Business Consultant," she countered by way of introducing her own profession. "I get hired-on to evaluate a company's efficiency, employee morale, or organizational structure as it relates to effective attainment of their goals." She said it almost like a challenge.

"Like in Office Space?" he said and then immediately wished he hadn't.

Rebecca smiled and lowered her eyes a little as if admitting an embarrassing truth. "Yes, actually. A lot like that," she laughed then wrinkled her nose. "Only, I hope that I handle it a little better. And I don't fire people! Never!"

He took another drink of his beer, sat back, relaxing a bit and smiled at her.

"I'm Rebecca, by the way," she extended a lovely slender hand across the table toward him, with manicured nails that, unbidden, he imagined raking down his back. "Rebecca Gentry."

Brandon hesitated only a moment and hoped she didn't notice. "Josh. Josh Williams. Very nice to meet you," and clasped her hand gently but firmly and held it just a moment longer than was necessary. Her eyes met his and he thought he saw her breath catch.

They spoke a long while about work and where they went to school. The second and third round of beers they ordered sat empty on the table before them. Brandon was very pleased at how effortless it was to make up and stick to a character that a few hours ago he had never heard of.

"So," he began after a short silence, "have you decided if you will be staying for the weekend or returning home?"

"Um, I am supposed to be checking into a hotel tonight but my sister and I had not made reservations yet," she replied leaving the end of her sentence as if open for an invitation. Her eyes locked on his again and her lips parted as if she were going to say something more but didn't. Brandon had another uncontrolled image. This one, of sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.

"I have the keys to my friend's vacation house here. You would be welcome to join me there. There are several bedrooms, of course. We could stop for dinner first if you like." Indeed, he did have the key to his friend's house here. He still had it from when he and his friend, Scott, were going to get it ready to rent out. Brandon was going to drive out first and Scott was planning to fly out to meet him due to scheduling issues, thus Brandon was given a key. But then Scott had changed his mind about putting it up for rent and they never went. Brandon suspected that Kristen asked Scott about using the house knowing Brandon still had the key. Clever girl.

Rebecca had the grace to pretend to think about it before answering, "Sure. That sounds nice. I think I may know a place for dinner if you don't mind me choosing."

"Okay. Great! Sounds good to me," he answered and began to get up from the table.

"Josh?" The name sounded foreign to his ears but he looked at her in response. Rebecca looked up at him from under her eyelashes in all seriousness and asked, "Do you play pool?"

*****

Outside the airport with their bags slung over their shoulders, Brandon hailed a taxi. The evening was hot and the breeze that blew at their faces was hotter. It made the air a little hard to breathe in at first. He held the door for Rebecca and slid into the back seat next to her. She gave the driver instructions to take them to The Billiard Room.

As the cab pulled away from the curb Brandon watched Rebecca. A warmth, having nothing to do this the heat outside, spread through his stomach. He studied her as she got situated in the seat beside him. She smoothed her short ivory skirt down her thighs with the palms of her hands then reached a hand up swiping a finger across her forehead to pull a strand of hair that the wind had blown from her lip. He noticed she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. Of course, Rebecca was not married, even if Kristen was. He noted his conflicting emotions while he slipped his wedding ring off unnoticed and into his front pocket. Looking at her as Kristen, without her wedding ring, formed a little knot of worry in his heart. Seeing her as Rebecca, without a wedding ring, made his dick hard.

Rebecca looked at him, "It's really just a bar with pool tables but they serve food, too. And, as bar food goes, they have the best," she said. Her hair was tousled by the wind. He wanted to fist his hands into it. Here. In the cab. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.