Cliff Ryder: The Ties That Bind

"Got it," Jason said. He turned to the door. "I better get a move on if I'm going to be ready to catch that flight."

"Stay safe," Denny said. "And think about what I said, Jason. No man can stand alone forever."

Without looking back, Jason said, "I'll give it some thought, boss." Then he opened the door and slipped out of the room.

All the way back to the log-out screen, he thought about Denny's words. What did they want from him? One minute, he's supposed to be a cold-blooded killer, the next he's supposed to…what? Be a kinder, gentler assassin?

He logged out and put the glasses on the desk, rubbing his eyes to ease the strain. It was ridiculous, he thought. He didn't have time for friends and family. And he didn't have time to deal with any of the feelings associated with those issues today. He had saved Miller because it was the right thing to do, not because of some human bond. Most of the time, there was right and wrong, good and evil. Shades of gray entered into it, but usually that was confined to situations where feelings were involved, where the moralities of a given situation were debatable. He didn't deal too often in those gray areas. His life tended to be black and white and he preferred it that way.

He got up from the desk just as a brown envelope slid beneath his front door. He knew it would contain his travel documents. "I've got work to do," he muttered to himself as he crossed the room. "I'll deal with learning how to be a more compassionate assassin tomorrow."

"You're certain of this, Denny?" Kate asked, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. "He's brand-new and this is delicate. We can't afford any mistakes at all."

"I'm sure, Kate," Denny replied. "You've read his file."

"I know, I know," she said. "Ph.D. in psychology from Harvard, with a genius-level IQ. Borderline photographic memory. Well above average blending skills and he excelled in our training program. His final test was a masterwork. That dignitary was about as covered as anyone I've ever seen and Siku got him. My concern is that this could get personal for him. His family is out there…somewhere. We don't need personal right now."

"Sure, it is," Denny said. "But the man obviously does not care. He's ice, Kate, and his record is spotless. My contact at the CIA said that they called him the thinking man's assassin. Do you know why?"

She shook her head, and he continued. "Because he was like a computer. Precise, calculating, no feelings at all. He plans and plans and then does the job. No mistakes. And he's not above using people to meet his mission goals — even if it gets them killed."

"I understand all that, but this isn't an assassination," Kate said. "With any luck at all, no one important will even know he was there."

Denny sighed heavily and wished he could go back to his horse ranch. "Kate, with all due respect, I think you've missed something here."

One eyebrow arched and her lips pursed tightly before she said, "Go on."

"The odds of him finding the sub — if it exists at all — then getting to it, getting on board and getting out again with no one the wiser are about a million to one against. Submarines are very confined spaces, and a stranger is going to be recognized instantly. It's far more likely that he'll be captured."

"So why send him?" Kate asked. "If he's just going to be captured and die, what's the point?"

"I didn't say he'd die, Kate," Denny said. "I said it was far more likely that he'd be captured."

"What's the difference?"

"If he does get captured, Kate, it won't be for long. Certainly not long enough for them to get him back to Russia. The most likely scenario at that point is that he would find a way to destroy the sub and kill the crew, even if it meant his own death."

"How did you reach that conclusion?" she asked. "His psych profile doesn't indicate anything like suicidal tendencies."

Denny shrugged. "He's not suicidal. What he is, Kate, is a man without anything in his life but the mission. That can be a good thing for us, of course, because if he's successful, we win, and if he fails, it's likely that we at least gain some time. Not as big a win, but a win of sorts. It's not a very good thing for him to be that way, but he hasn't figured that out yet. He may live long enough to do so, but I can't really say for sure at this point."

"You're a coldhearted man, Denny," Kate said. "Very cold."

"No, Kate," he said, "I'm a realist. I can't afford to be anything else. If I start thinking like an optimist, a lot of people are going to die. Our agents need to be human, too. So do we, for that matter."

"There's a difference between being a hopeless optimist and having hope," she said, her voice soft. "I'd like to believe that a big part of what Room 59 does is finding that difference."

"Maybe it is," Denny said. "But in the meantime, we have a job to do, and sometimes that means that we have to use people in some not so nice ways, even our own agents. Especially when it means, they're better agents for it in the long run."

"We all get used," Kate said. "That comes with the territory. But that doesn't mean we always have to do the same to our own people."

"Kate," Denny said, "unless I miss my guess, by the time he lands in Anchorage, Jason will have already figured out that he may have to die in order to achieve some level of success on this mission. As you said, he's not stupid."

"And when he realizes that you've sent him on what could be nothing more than a quick trip to die?" she asked.

"He'll be cranky," Denny said, smiling. "But he'll also have to decide if there's anything more important in his life than the mission — even something as petty as getting even with me. He'll either die or come back a better agent for the experience. He might even come back with some actual feelings."

"Sounds like you've got it all worked out," she said. "But it still feels crappy."

He nodded. "Yes, it does," he said. "But with another Cold War brewing and more international terrorism going on than we can even begin to keep track of, we need better agents than we've ever had — men and women who can find the balance between hopeless optimism and hope, who can think on their feet and decide what is more important to them — their lives or the world. We need agents who can make that choice confidently, Kate."

She thought for several long moments, then nodded. "You're right," she said. "The game is changing, I think, faster than many of us believed it would."

"It always does," Denny said. "And if we don't change with it, we won't be anything more than dinosaurs waiting for a meteor strike."

"I'm not ready to be a fossil quite yet," Kate said, laughing.

"Nor am I," Denny said, "despite how I look. I'll keep you in the loop."

"Do that," Kate said. Then she added, "And you look fine." She cut the connection, her virtual avatar winking out of existence.

Denny leaned back, then returned to the file folders on his desk. He'd already spoken to Tina Kanut and explained the situation. She was to play the native guide and nothing else. Her only job was to keep an eye on Jason and if things began to go wrong, she could step in, identify herself and lend a hand.

Sadly, there was more going on in Room 59 than this one mission, and his attention was needed elsewhere. Win or lose, succeed or fail, there were always threats to be addressed. The threats, Denny thought, never stop. He hoped he was doing the right thing where Siku was concerned, but his agents needed to be human, as much as they needed to be effective. Too much of what Room 59 did involved making human decisions. It wasn't all about killing. Sometimes, it was about choosing the lives of others over your own.

And sometimes, it was just the opposite.