The Tower

Although Jade believed her (who the fuck else but an FBI agent dressed up to break into your house?), his hand went to her pocket and fished out a badge. He flipped it open and held it up to read, "Agent Jennifer Travers. Top Clearance." He snickered. "Evidently. Boy, I really had my hands full with you."

He realized he still held Travers's face pressed against the dining room table and he let go of her, flaring his hand apologetically. Travers stood up and straightened her slacks, running her palms over her hips to smooth the wrinkles.

He tossed the badge on the table and walked back into the kitchen. "You people need to learn how to use a doorbell," he called over his shoulder. "Now what, exactly, can I help you with?"

"We want you on-"

"Atlasia. I know. I've been waiting."

Jade took a few gulps of orange juice from the carton. "I hope you brought the file and retainer. You can leave them on the dining room table. Same rules as always. I work alone and have unrestricted access to all privileged information, labs, forensics, all that shit. And I'll need a badge-one that doesn't say 'temporary' across the front of it. If I need a partner, I want an experienced agent, not a rookie." He poked his head back around the corner. "It's been a bad week for rookies," he said.

It was the first time he'd really looked at her face, and he was startled by her beauty. Her features were simple, yet stunning. Her high, proud cheeks were still red from the struggle. He turned away before she could read anything in his eyes.

"Marlow, you understand that this is a larger case than you've handled in the past."

"So pay me more."

"We've taken care of that. But we need you to stay in line with the press. Handle them gracefully and we'll keep all pertinent resources open."

Jade smiled sweetly. "I already have been handling the press."

Travers reached into her jacket and pulled out a brown envelope. "Here's fifteen thousand. You'll get another twenty for locating him, and twenty-five for bringing him in or taking him out."

"So if I get him, I cash in forty-five thousand more?"

"You should've been a mathematician."

"You should've been an FBI agent."

He was impressed by how well she ignored him. "The bottom line is, we want you inside Atlasia's head. We want to know what he likes, what he eats, what he dreams about. As some of our more uncouth agents are prone to say, we want to know how many times he wipes his ass when he shits.

"You run the background checks and figure out what he's about and where he's going. That's what we're paying you for. And we'd like to see you at headquarters for a briefing at two o'clock this afternoon."

Jade checked his watch. It was just after nine, which gave him a little more than four hours before he'd have to start driving.

"Fine," he said, turning back to the refrigerator. "I assume you know how to let yourself out."

After Travers left, Jade jumped rope for a while in his garage, then boxed on the speed bag that hung suspended next to his car. He felt his shoulders working and held the burn for a while, stepping lightly with the punches. He toweled off, then went inside to shower.

The living room held a set of glass tables with black, metal frames, and a matching desk sat in the study. The bookcases in his bedroom, which he had built himself, were made of wood and painted black. The shelves got shorter as they rose, giving the impression that they were receding into the wall. In the kitchen, the countertops curved in and out, adding a sense of organic disorder.

Jade could think more clearly in a neat environment. Every last item in his house was in place, from the books lined up in decreasing size to the silverware divided in a black mesh container in the kitchen drawer.

His study was particularly well ordered. On his desk, a Macintosh computer sat on a swivel, elevated slightly above the keyboard. A blank legal pad was laid in the middle of a desk mat, and a small box held pens and pencils. They were returned to the box after each use.

When the pencils wore down or the pens got low on ink, Jade threw them out and bought new ones. He found them much easier to work with. You can't write down a new idea with an old pen, he figured, just like you can't start a thought on a half-used pad of paper.

Stepping from the steam of the shower and wrapping himself in a dark gray towel, Jade wiped off the mirror and shaved in short, neat strokes. He ran a comb down the top of his head to find the part and then flicked his hair over to one side. He brushed his teeth, cleaned his ears, blew his nose, and cut his nails. Then he washed his hands again, got dressed, and filled a glass with crushed ice.

He went into the living room and sat in a black leather chair facing the file on the table before him. He crunched the ice deliberately. Exhaling deeply, he flipped the file open and felt the eyes of Allander Atlasia meet his.

PART Three. THE SHADOW Chapter 19