Blevins’
Secret
Sara
B. 6/2005
Blevins
slammed his office door and stormed over to his desk. He threw down the folder
he was carrying and turned to the man sitting on the couch that graced the side wall just inside the door.
“This,”
pointing to the folder, “is more of a fuck up than partnering them up in the first place. Separating them has just made their bond grow stronger. They
talk on the phone all the time; they spend time together outside of work. Hell,
they’re together as we speak, having dinner at her mother’s house.”
Blevins tried to keep his voice down but it escalated with each new accusation he launched at the man.
The
man, having weathered many of campaigns against more powerful foes than this pathetic puppet, was unmoved; his only response
was to snub out one cigarette and light another. He would listen to the rants
but only to an extent and the fool was close to reaching the edge of his patience.
“This
is your entire fault; you found her and convinced the members she would proceed as we planned.
I’m not taking the fall for this.” Without warning the man
was standing mere inches from Blevins with his cigarette close to his accuser’s eye.
“You
dare challenge me? You have no idea what we have planned, no idea. Do you think we can’t do without you? We can and in
the near future it is entirely conceivable we will. You only exist because we
let you, so don’t go around making accusation. Just sit back and do your
job.” He saw that his message had gotten through to the man so he backed
off. “Don’t worry; the Scully situation is being dealt with and should
not concern you.”
Blevins
watched the door close behind the man and he fell into his chair. He opened a
drawer and pulled out a can of air freshener to free the room of the stench left behind.
He turned and looked at the many awards and accolades bestowed on him during his career and laughed. They were mere props that he couldn’t honestly lay claim of earning any of them. They might impress his subordinates but he didn’t dare let them fool him.
He’d
been a rookie agent, only six months out of the academy, when he was first approached.
They laid the facts in front of him with deadly cold accuracy. He’d
been one grade shy of dismissal from Quantico. His future at the FBI didn’t look promising, he was stationed at one of the
least prestigious field offices the FBI had, the one where all the border line cases started, and usually ended, their careers. If he took their offer his career was guaranteed, if not he would flounder for a few
years and then wash out.
They
had played it up by telling him that he was working toward world wide security from, then, an un-named menace. They said that he would be a patriot, but he knew all along that was a load of bull. Third rate agent weren’t given offers like that and get to be a hero too. He was just another coward out to save his own ass and the world be damned.
They needed a figure head that would shake things up, rattle a few people and roll heads when they wanted. He’d been shake, rattle and rolling for nearly thirty years now.
He
was on his third wife, a Barbie named Carmen with plastic everything and expensive tastes; Carmen was his second trophy wife. His real love was his first wife, Stephanie.
He
divorced Stephanie five years into his ‘servitude.’ Stephanie was
the only true thing in his entire life and she was too damned good for him. He
served her with divorce papers on their seventh wedding anniversary.
She
remarried two years after their divorce to a man who really worships her and they have three kids and six grandchildren. His name is Mike. He’s a construction
worker; they’ve done all right but they never had all the great luxuries his life offered. Blevins envies Mike to no end because he has the only thing that matters; Stephanie. He still keeps one of their wedding pictures and his wedding ring in his desk. He was no longer the man in that picture who wore that ring. These
trinkets remind him of what could have been.
A
year after divorcing Stephanie he married Brenda, more as an effort to make Stephanie move on than any attachment to Brenda.
If there was a more two face money grubbing tramp that graced the earth than
Brenda it was his third wife Carmen. They were both extremely beautiful but neither
had any soul or morals. Both were unfaithful; Carmen cheated on him during their
honeymoon, sadly he didn’t even care. He stopped caring about anything
the day Stephanie married Mike.
His
marriage to Brenda, or as he referred to her, ‘the big B’ lasted all of two years and she would have cleaned him
out if ‘they’ hadn’t shown up at the attorney’s office with a pre-nuptial agreement signed by Brenda
and dated three days before they were married. A pre-nup that never existed before
and that Brenda denied ever seeing. Eventually, after some soft spoken words
from his attorney, she understood there was no fighting the evidence and she signed the divorce agreement for a lot less than
he’d been willing to give just to unload her. It was just one more piece
of his soul that they owned.
He
knows the day is coming when the threat that the smoking bastard gave him will no longer just be words. They won’t need him forever and his was a job you didn’t just retire from; there was only one
way out. There was no gold watch in his future, only a headstone.
Blevins
opened the desk drawer and pulled out the wedding picture and his ring. A smile
plays at his lips. The day that he dies, is killed, everything he owns transfers
into Stephanie’s name and is dated three years earlier. Among his things
is a letter to be mailed after his funeral to an address he is not supposed to know exists.
The letter tells ‘them’ that if anyone bothers Stephanie, or her family, a safety deposit key and the name
of an offshore bank will be sent to Fox Mulder and Dana Scully or their survivors. In
the box is a lifetimes worth of accumulated evidence against his bosses; irrefutable evidence.
It
contains all the proof they have sacrificed so hard for.
Maybe
he would have been a decent agent after all.
End
Sara
B.
