The Target (Will Robie 3)

“Of course she did. She literally amazed me in our first meeting. And she couldn’t have been much more than nineteen. An unheard-of thing. I don’t believe the agency bothers recruiting field agents that have not graduated college. And near the top of their classes. If ‘the best and the brightest’ sounds archaic, it’s anything but. You can’t be stupid and unmotivated and succeed at the CIA. The work is too demanding.”

“You must have seen something special in her.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Despite all my experience with reading people I’m not convinced that I was ever ab

le to see the real person inside her, Agent Robie. I don’t think anyone ever has. Including probably you.”

“Janet DiCarlo told me roughly the same thing.”

Bitterman sat back, a frown creasing his features. “A tragedy. I understand that you are the only reason she’s not dead.”

“No, there was another reason. Jessica Reel. She’s also the reason I’m not dead.”

Bitterman tapped Robie’s bulky file. “I take it you two make a good team.”

“We have.”

“You respect her?”

“I do.”

“She has done questionable things in the past. Some have classified them as treasonous.”

“And now we jump to management’s side of things?” said Robie.

“I have to earn my paycheck, Agent Robie. I make no judgments. I don’t take sides. I just try to…understand.”

“But you’re here to evaluate whether I’m still psychologically fit for field duty. Not to figure out Reel.”

“I think those fields of inquiry may be interconnected. You made the decision to help her. Against orders. That is a serious breach of agency protocols. Even you must admit that. So the question becomes why a highly professional agent like yourself would have done that. Now that, Agent Robie, that does speak directly to the question of fitness to perform.”

“Well, if you’re judging that on the basis of my ability to follow orders, then I guess I’ve already failed the test.”

“Not at all. It goes deeper than that. Agents have not followed orders before. Some for reasons that later turned out to be indefensible. Others did so for reasons that later turned out to be justified. But even that is not definitive. Justified or not, not following orders is a very serious breach of duty. An army controlled by the whim of the lowest soldier is not an army at all. It is anarchy.”

Robie shifted in his seat. “I wouldn’t disagree with that.”

“And this was not the first time you so acted,” said Bitterman.

Now he opened the file and perused some pages. In fact, he took so long that Robie thought he had forgotten he was even there.

Finally, he looked up. “You didn’t pull the trigger.”

“The woman died anyway. And her very young son.”

“But not by your hand.”

“She was innocent. She was set up. The order for her death was not given by the agency. It was given for personal reasons by those who had infiltrated the agency. I did the right thing in not shooting her.”

“Based on what?”

“My gut. Conditions on the ground. Things I saw in her apartment that did not add up. All those things told me that something was off. I had never not pulled the trigger before. It was justified that time.”

“And then we come to Jessica Reel. You did not pull the trigger on her either. Based on what? Your instinct once more? Conditions on the ground?”

“A little of both. And I was proved right again.”

“Some at the agency don’t believe that.”

“And I know who they are, trust me.”

Bitterman pointed a stubby finger at him. “That’s the gist of it, Agent Robie, isn’t it? Can you be trusted? That’s what they all want to know.”

“I think I’ve proven that I can be. But if the agency wants me to be a robot and not exercise my judgment, then maybe we should part company.”

Bitterman sat back and seemed to be considering this.

Robie looked over his shoulder. “Do you regret not having windows?”

Bitterman looked behind him. “Sometimes, yes.”

“It’s hard to see what’s around you without windows. You tend to get cloistered, detached, and your judgment can be impaired.”

Bitterman smiled. “Now who is testing whom?”

“I’m just being transparent, Doc.”

“And I know better than that, don’t I?”

“How well do you know Amanda Marks?”

“Not all that well. She’s the new number two, of course. You don’t get there without being an overachiever. Her record is a brilliant one. Excelled at every level.”

“And she can be trusted to follow orders under any circumstance?” asked Robie.

Bitterman didn’t say anything for several long moments as a clock on a shelf ticked the seconds away.

“I have not performed a psych evaluation on her.”

“Best guess based on your observations thus far.”

“I would say that she is a good soldier,” said Bitterman slowly.

“Then you’ve answered my question.”

“But you haven’t answered mine, Agent Robie. Far from it.”

“So I failed the eval?”

“This is just the preliminary. We’ll meet again.”

“And how long am I being kept here?”

“That’s way above my pay grade.”

“And if it’s determined that I don’t measure up?”

Bitterman clamped down on his unlit pipe’s stem. “Same answer.”

Chapter

12

YOUR HISTORY IS ONE OF the most unusual I’ve ever encountered.”

Reel sat across from another agency shrink, this one a woman in her fifties with dull brown hair with gray roots, spectacles on a chain, and a dour expression. Her name was Linda Spitzer. She wore a long skirt, a cotton vest over a white blouse, and boots. They were seated across from each other in the woman’s office, a coffee table between them.

“So do I get a prize?” said Reel.

Spitzer closed the folder she was holding. “Why do you think you’re here?”

“I don’t think, I know. I’m here to be punished.”

“For what?”

Reel closed her eyes and sighed. When she reopened them she said, “Do we really have to do this? I’m a little tired and I’m sure DD Marks has more fun planned for me today.”

Spitzer shrugged. “We have an hour. It’s up to you how we use it.”

“Why don’t you read a book, then? I can steal a catnap.”

“You know, I’m not sure I would have recommended you for field duty