THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 9: On the Down Low

David stayed up late that night trying to figure out how to go about his assignment. The people at The Bar were government agents and not forerunners for a new client as he told the group. To organize his ideas he went through the conversation with them in his mind:

“We need your firm to handle this with extreme discretion.” said one of the agents.

“Mr. Roman here, is Ms. Aldrich’s immediate superior and has developed a good personal relationship with her,” said Mr. Martin. “We believe he has earned a high level of trust from her and that the assignment wouldn’t need any other firm asset. That should take care of the discreet aspect.”

“Vega Aldrich should never know she’s being asked to do something for someone else,” said the second agent. “The trick is to make her do our bidding while believing it’s all her idea.”

“We’ve been closely monitoring our man since his first contact with Mr. Aldrich popped up in our surveillance systems,” added the first agent, “and we are very concerned with the direction the conversation is taking. Mr. Martin, it is of utmost importance that, for his own good, Lucas Aldrich stops this before it goes any further.”

The “for his own good” part left David with a bad taste in his mouth.

Mr. Martin asked for information regarding the identity of the man Lucas Aldrich was contacting, but the answer to most of the questions was always the same: “That’s classified.”

In that respect, the only thing the lawyers got from the government agents was that their man was the manager of a fantasy baseball team called the Kitty Hawks. A piece of information David found laughable given the supposed seriousness of the situation. Apparently his face betrayed him with an unconscious expression that prompted one of the agents to ask him if there was anything wrong.

“No, nothing, it’s just that I once had a terrible experience in one of those fantasy leagues,” he said. “They are definitely not my cup of tea.”

“Well’ gentlemen, time for us to start doing our job,” said Mr. Martin after a few more frustrating minutes of unsuccessfully trying to fish out some meaningful information.

Both attorneys got up and left the agents’ table. “Please give me a call tonight once you’re in a place where you can talk privately. Oh, and in case they ask, just tell your team that these guys were forerunners for a potential new client,” Mr. Martin told David as they walked back to Vega’s table.

He called as soon as he got home, and they discussed strategy. During the conversation he could tell that this wasn’t the first time the firm was involved in this type of operation for the government.

David was now going through his mind’s archives of conversations and interactions with Vega trying to find a subtle way to seamlessly talk to her about her dad’s fantasy baseball hobby. In the process he recalled something Dalia said at The Bar just before Mr. Martin pulled him out of the table. It was about Vega’s dad going out with her aunt.

Hmmm, maybe there’s a way there, he thought.

He spent some more time on that train of thought before calling it a night.

Over at Lucas’ place, that night’s game was over and he remembered he hadn’t taken out the trash earlier. As he was taking care of business, he noticed a dark car rolling slowly down his street. Nothing out of the ordinary, except the car looked like a caricature of a government-issued car. He half expected people in dark suits to step out of it. The thought made him chuckle until a yawn attested to his tiredness.

The next morning Lucas was leaving for an early meeting with a client and as he was going out the door he saw the dark car again. A disturbing thought crossed his head: They wanted me to see them.

While getting into his car he though about calling Vega but then decided otherwise. No reason to alarm her, he thought. What was going on? Why would a government-looking car be making the rounds in his street? He was a law-abiding citizen who hadn’t done anything wrong. What if it wasn’t the government? The license plates didn’t identify it as such. What was going on here? He breathed in deeply and tried to relax. The most probable explanation was that the car had nothing to do with him and that his mind was playing tricks with him.

He kept looking in his rear-view mirror all the way to his early morning meeting but the dark car was nowhere to be seen. The previous day optimism was nowhere to be found either. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something bad brewing under the surface.  

 

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