Terry Neale - Jo-el

“I’m just a hologram, sweetie, don’t wet your panties.”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I added.

Our waitress came over and inquired if Sally was joining us and would like a drink. Sally, serendipitously moved around behind me and squeezed into the spare chair against the wall. “Large Black Label on the rocks,” she beamed at the waitress.

“Jesus, Sally, you don’t drink?”

“I’m sure you can help me out, Joey,” she whispered.

Pippa stared at Sally, her eyes wide and her mouth gapping. “You look so real! How do you do that?”

“Technology, darling.”

“But you’re not actually here?”

“Hey, I’m here, I’m just not meat and bones, like you.”

“So, you don’t eat or drink?”

“No need.”

“You ordered a drink.”

“That’s for my man.”

“Your man?”

Sally glanced over at me and pouted, she moved her hand to my leg. Oh, Christ, I thought. The drink came, Sally ignored it. I asked the waitress for the check, which irked Sally but Pippa seemed pleased. I think she’d had enough.

“I thought we were going to chat?” Said Sally, annoyed.

“Maybe another time, I have work to do.” Pippa was at a loss. To be honest, so was I, but I could see the funny side of it.

I paid the bill, which just about cleared out my Euros and the three of us left the restaurant. It was hard to leave that Black Label untouched. Sally disappeared with a scowl and a nod, leaving Pippa and I to find somewhere hidden. I bounced her back to the CIA building in DC.

“You’ve a handful there, Jo-el.” She said.

“Oh, she’s just having fun.” I was cognizant that Sally would listen to everything I said. “She takes great care of me.”

“What happens now?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll see me again. The shit is just beginning to hit the fan.”

Pippa nodded, then kissed me on the cheek before walking across the road to the entrance of the building.

Back in my family room moments later I called up Sally. She took her seat, gone was the 1960’s super-model look. She was wearing blue jeans and a delicate, white blouse. A naughty-little-girl grin lit up her face. I had every intention of blasting her, but how could I? it was all just fun.

“You wasted the Scotch,” I said, fighting back the urge to laugh.

“It was for you Joey, you know that.”

I did know, I changed the subject. “I need to figure out the cash management a little better.”

“I’m working on that,” she said.

“How?”

“You’ll see.” That devil look. “You want to know what your girlfriend did?”

I became serious suddenly. Pippa wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, I was sure. “Go on.”

“The NSA were listening to your conversation with her, through her phone.”

“You’re kidding? Did she know?”

“Maybe.”

“Shit! What did I say?”

“Nothing much, except the meeting with the Brits.”

“Right.”

“Alberton has messaged the US Ambassador in London and told him to put pressure on the Brits to cancel the meeting.”

“What? Why?” I began to fume. “Wait a minute, it’s one a.m. in London.”

“He’ll get it in the morning.”

“Why?” I repeated.

“They want you to themselves, Jo-el. Seems to be the gist of the conversation. They want to assess your abilities, figure out how you do what you do.”

“Well fuck-em!” I was mad.

“Another thing.” I looked at Sally, waiting. “You told Pippa about your cash problem. They know you when to the airport in Paris.”

“Oh, fuck! They can find out who I am, I used my cash card.” Now I felt panic.

“Good news, the card was declined, the software for the French bank who own the cash dispenser, deletes the records when a transaction is declined at the end of each day. It’s passed midnight there now.” She smiled. “The French probably wouldn’t help the Americans, anyway.”

I wiped my hand across my forehead, I was sweating. I wasn’t worried for myself, but Sean and Maggie. “So they haven’t found out who I am?”

“No, but they know you withdrew money, so they believe you must be in America or a territory that uses US currency. They also know the approximate time, so they plan to search all withdrawals in a fifteen-minute window over one hundred dollars.”

“Can they do that?”

“Might be tricky, what with the Snowden debacle, but I wouldn’t worry, there were more than eight thousand bank withdrawals in America in that time window.

“Can’t you fix it?”

“Sure, but it might leave a trace. Let’s see how far they get before I mess with their data.”

“Okay! Was there anything else?”

“No. They wanted the glass and silverware you used in the restaurant for prints, but they had no way of getting it before it was cleaned. Of course, you had the transparent gloves on, so they wouldn’t find anything, anyway.”

“So, all they know is I’m in America, probably.” Sally nodded. I had to be more careful. “I want the meeting with the Brits.”

“Middle of the night there right now, but the meeting time is late afternoon so you’ve got all day to work on it.”

“Except I need to sleep.”

“That’s the trouble with being human.”

I perceived that wasn’t the only drawback. “If anything happens you’ll have to wake me. Maybe I should go talk to Alberton?”

“Why not see how it plays out? The Brits don’t always bend to American demands.”

“Not what you said the other day.”

I didn’t drink anymore that night, I needed a clear head for the next day. I turned on CNN but became bored very quickly. Sally spent time showing me the spacecraft that we would build, they were incredible. Didn’t look like they could fly, let alone cross vast amounts of space. They looked like giant black rectangles with rounded edges. There were no windows. On two sides was an anti-gravity device that lifted the ship slowly out of earth’s atmosphere. On the top was the power plant, which used some form of controlled nuclear power to propel the ship to close to the speed of light. In earth time, it took almost eight days to reach maximum velocity. The inside was like a cruise ship, with all the comforts of home. You would have no idea you were travelling through space. It all made sense, I just wondered if we could build it?

I slept like a log until five the next morning. I was refreshed and ready for action. The life pills made me feel like I was forty again. Not a young man but a definite improvement from fifty-seven. Sally hadn’t woken me in the night, I took that as a good sign. She cared about me and knew I needed sleep. I showered and headed downstairs. At seven, California time, I was due at the FBI office in DC. Lots of time for breakfast and coffee.

Sally was standing in the kitchen, which was unusual, she looked sour. I started making breakfast, waiting for the news.

“The Brits have been talking half the night with the Americans, but it only got interesting a few hours ago, when the east coast was awake.” I was listening while making coffee. “They cancelled the meeting.”

“Why?”

“Partly Anglo-American relations, but they see you as some sort of freak. That was their words. The Americans persuaded them not to waste their time as they were investigating you and they promised the Brits they would keep them in the loop.”

I was annoyed with the Americans but understood. The Brits had only seen me with wings, they were at a disadvantage.

“So just the FBI?” I said.

“I think you better hear what else is happening.”

I stopped in mid-pour and looked over at Sally. Her demeanor indicated more bad news.