L Sellers - The Arranger

The real question was: Could he pull it off? Could he arrange for someone to be fired and also manipulate a supervisor into hiring a specific replacement? As a techie in the personnel department, he had no influence on Level C positions, but he did have access to files and he could take a behind-the-scenes approach. The idea excited and frightened him at the same time. It had to be illegal and he’d never willingly broken the law before. He knew how to hack into web pages and social networking sites, but he’d only done it a few times just to see if he could. Paul suspected that posting offensive statements on someone’s WorldChat page might not be enough to get them fired, unless they were already on the edge. He might have to be more aggressive. The thought gave him a burst of energy. He could remake himself inside and out. He could become one of those people who took chances and lived life fully.

“What do you think, Lilly? Can I pull it off?”

She whined to let him know she was cold. Paul spotted a cart vendor and bought a cup of tea to sip on the walk home. Darkness had fallen and he wanted to get back inside before he got mugged. His mind turned to the mission he had planned. Twenty thousand was a lot of money, even for a federal C-Level position. He’d have to scour the database for an ambitious type, then contact them anonymously to gauge their interest.

Tonight though, he would search the net for good-looking actors until he found the perfect new nose.

The next morning, Paul passed through the body scanner in the Personnel and Payroll Management Office, where he’d worked for eight years. He’d seen a lot of changes in that time, and most involved adding security and consolidating personnel. On the other side of the scanner, the female member of the security team touched his shoulder and signaled him aside.

“Didn’t we do this recently?” Paul spoke lightly, hoping his irritation didn’t show. It had been exactly thirteen workdays since he’d been randomly chosen to be searched, and it was the fifth time in the three years since they’d increased security. Others in the building had never been selected. He doubted if they used an algorithm and he was insulted by the insinuation that he could suddenly become a terrorist.

“Did we?” The security guard was coffee-colored and beautiful, but she never smiled. “Set your briefcase on the table and step up to the iris scanner.”

Paul did as instructed, then walked behind the white-canvas privacy divider and allowed the guard to pat him down more thoroughly than the TSA did. He wanted to comment that she was the only woman who ever put her hands on his body, but any sexual innuendo would get him fired.

“Thank you, Mr. Madsen.” The security guard dismissed him, and as Paul headed for the elevator, he realized he didn’t know her name.

As he sat down at his desk, his NetCom lifted out of the flat metal surface and the screen came to life with rotating images, many of Lilly and Isabel. His touched his control pad and a login box appeared. Paul checked the time: 7:40. He still had twenty minutes before his workday started, and he was determined to conduct this arrangement on his own time. He logged in with a press of his thumb in the corner of the pad and opened the replacement file.

Sipping green tea, he began to search for the key elements he’d mentally listed for his target as he lay in bed the night before, unable to sleep: 1) more than three dependents, 2) a salary less than a hundred thousand a year, 3) rapid job changes, and 4) alimony payments. He hoped to find at least several candidates, check who they were listed to replace, then pick the one connected to the most vulnerable federal employee.

Within ten minutes, Paul was surprised to find two prime targets: Darren Fredricks and Alan Rathmore. Fredricks was CFO of MobileTech, a company that produced a line of communicators worn on the wrist. He was a replacement choice for director of technology and innovation. The government job might pay less than what he currently earned, but the medical benefits and networking opportunities would be too good to pass up. Paul opened the federal HR database and uploaded the current technology director’s file, only to find an impeccable service record. Getting him fired would be challenging, even if Fredricks was willing to pay.

Paul moved to his second potential client. Alan Rathmore was a manager for E-Med, a company that created and maintained software for transitioning patients’ medical records into digital files. Government funding for that effort had dried up after the first debt crisis, but hospitals and clinics were still struggling to make the transition. Rathmore was in line for a position in Health and Human Services. Paul’s pulse quickened. The position would be a huge career move for Rathmore and very tempting bait.

Paul quickly called up the file for Janel Roberts, the woman who held the director of planning position. She’d been in the job only a year and a half and seemed under-qualified. She had two teenagers listed on her health plan and a warning in her file about attendance. Roberts was definitely weak, and a couple of ideas popped into Paul’s head. He checked the clock. A few more minutes before his workday started. He perused Janel Roberts’ file, memorizing the details. Occasional pangs of guilt for what he had planned made him pause, but he reminded himself that she’d get a severance package and ninety days of unemployment benefits. It was more than most terminated workers received.

As his NetCom clock rolled over to 8:00 a.m., Paul closed the files and opened the project he was working on for the Pentagon’s payroll program. He always gave a full day’s work for his salary.

Throughout the morning, his thoughts kept straying to Alan Rathmore and how he should approach the potential client. A quick anonymous message from a disposable iCom seemed safest. What if Rathmore was offended by his offer? Would he report the incident for investigation? Paul considered what he would do if someone approached him with such an offer. The old Paul would have simply ignored it. The new Paul might take the risk.

On his lunch hour, he braved the cold wind to buy a prepaid iCom from a street vendor in Triangle Park. Vendors were everywhere now, selling out of carts and backpacks, as people tried to make a living however they could. Just having the device in his pocket made Paul feel daring. After work, he fortified himself with a vegetable stir-fry from Chinatown Express, then walked ten blocks south to a different park. That was the one thing about D.C. that hadn’t changed. It still had parks everywhere, but they were filled with homeless people now.

The bitter weather kept the homeless in their tents so he had the park bench to himself. If the feds ever traced the call, he didn’t want to be near his apartment or his workplace. He practiced what he would say a few times, then finally spoke Rathmore’s number into the iCom. He followed it with the command, “Text.” He would speak his message out loud, and the iCom would transfer it to text. He didn’t want Rathmore to hear his voice yet.

“I have a proposition you can’t refuse,” Paul said, trying to sound confident. “I can arrange for you to land a Level C job in Health and Human Services in exchange for twenty thousand dollars. You’ll recoup your investment in less than a year. Let me know if you’re interested.”

Paul used the keypad to make minor corrections in the text and read the message through several times. His heart pounded in his ears with the thought of actually sending it. He’d never done anything like this in his life. Isabel had always chided him for his shyness and accused him of going through life with the brakes on. This was pedal to the metal, Paul thought, then laughed at himself.