Nelson shook his head as the elevator door closed. He knew everybody here worked hard and made good money, but Jamie never seemed to fit in. A life time of preparing, waiting and fighting wars had taught him to observe the small things. She always dressed the part and looked the part, but she never felt the part. Some intangible pieces were missing. Helping her cousins, crying the night she found a dead cat in the parking lot, bringing him a small cake on his birthday; her ambition at work always felt like it came from the outside, not from within. He hoped that tonight would be the last night he saw her, and his hope would come true.
Exiting onto the third floor, Jamie thought that only a man could design a building with so much cold metal, bullet proof windows, putty colored carpeting and harsh lightening. The place even had the antiseptic smell of a hospital. A little color, a poster on the wall or even some plastic flowers might help add a little warmth. Indeed this was a place that only soulless machines could be happy. Computer data from governments and businesses from around the world flowed into this building to be stored safely inside a mountain. Sitting in front of her laptop, little Jamie from South Carolina in her pink panties was about to crack the most secure data storage facility in the world. It had taken her almost a year, and she thought that tonight would be the end.
As her program began running, she folded her left leg into her chair. With a smooth, practiced move, she twisted the heel off her left shoe and removed a hidden flash drive and in one motion inserted it into the USB port on her laptop. After a few moments, she returned the flash drive to its secret place and reassembled the shoe. Now she knew that she was beyond a doubt a thief, a criminal. Knowing that she could not just leave after fifteen minutes of work, she settled in for a few hours of meaningless computer maintenance work.
Leaving the building, she felt so out of touch with herself. She was lonely. At this moment, she had no one that she could reach out to, no one she could talk to and no one she could touch. Help was what she wanted, but she had to she see this through. She had to pass on the stolen information and call the authorities. Right now, it was all about her driving in the night to do what she had to do. The emptiness of being alone had engulfed her, and shame was her only friend.
Arriving at a truck stop off Interstate 24, she slid into a booth in of the flow of late night patrons. It had the feel, the smell of her father’s restaurant and gave her a sense of security. She had waited tables in such a place for most of her life and wanted to be around men who felt obligated to protect a woman when she met her contact. At midnight, a 6' 2" muscular man wearing a dark suit walked in the door. Ms. Psycho-bitch had remained true to form and had sent in one of her boy toys. No matter what Jamie thought about her, Jamie had to admit she knew how to pick out good looking men. He quickly surveyed the restaurant and walked over to her booth.
Without any introductions, staring at Jamie with his dark eyes, he sat down and said, “Do you have it?”
Pushing the flash drive halfway across the table, she said, “This is it.”
Picking it up with his large manicured hand, he said, “The lady will be happy.” Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out a plain white envelop and pushed it to Jamie and said, “A little bonus for all your good work.”
Slowly picking up the envelop that she knew was filled with cash while looking at his smirking face, she suddenly threw it in his face and leaning forward said, “You tell that fucking bitch to leave me and my daddy alone.”
“What the hell,” he said to loudly as he jerked forward rattling the table, “you little bitch.”
His words caught the attention of a burly trucker walking towards the bathroom. He stopped and looking at the well dressed boy-toy asked, “Little Miss, is everything OK?”
Jamie smiled at the piece of shit sitting across the table and said with her voice sliding into a very natural southern accent, “I was just leaving, but I sure would feel better if you or another one of the gentlemen here would walk me to my car. I need to call my daddy and go home.”
“It would be my pleasure,” the trucker answered, but it was clear by his body language that kicking pretty boy’s ass would be even more pleasurable.
“Thank you so very much. You know my girl friend tried to warn me about him, but I just wouldn’t listen.”
After thanking him for his kindness, Jamie started her car and drove back to the interstate. Thinking to herself that everything went off well and with any luck boy-toy was getting the shit beat out of him right now; she picked up her cell phone and dialed her government contact. Suddenly a SUV hit its brakes in front of her trying to avoid an elk leaping across the pavement, Jamie slammed on her brakes. Before she could realize that her brakes no longer worked she slammed into the back end of the SUV. At sixty-five miles an hour, her car crumbled around her, sending her VW off the side of the interstate.
According to the talking head on the morning television news, the police had not been able to identify the body in the twisted Volkswagen. Jamie never again had to deal with idiot bureaucrats, psycho-bitches and worry about her father’s safety.
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