Alice's Point of View
"God, I feel like shit."
She'd kept her poor boyfriend up all night holding her through the shakes and the nightmare, always the same one.
Daddy, where are you going? Daddy, don't leave me with them! Daddy, no! Please come back!
She shuddered involuntarily.
No. The sun was shining. Alex was at work. She had a job to do. Her one chance, her only chance, was to get a new contract. Once fed, the demon that slept inside her would let her sleep peacefully again, for a little while.
It was ten in the morning and her boyfriend's truck was long gone. Her sweet man was an expert at leaving quietly, allowing Alice a few more hours of rest once exhaustion finally claimed her. She would have to make do with this small space of blessed oblivion. It was all she was likely to receive for a while yet.
Alice put a pot of coffee on and applied her makeup while she waited. Her phone buzzed with a new notification.
"Deposit for services rendered," she read aloud. The split for the Connor Oswald contract was 60/40, in her favor. Even after splitting the money with Dick, it was still a substantial sum. She'd have the down payment for the house they wanted in a few years. Alex handled the day to day bills while they saved her assassin money.
Soon I'll be the one taking care of you, babe, she thought, smiling a secret smile.
Sipping her coffee, Alice checked NikNak and scrolled for a while, mostly mindless junk to keep her brain occupied and intrusive thoughts out. The work meeting wasn't until after lunch.
"Oh?" Her handler, codename: Dahlia sent her a text message.
"Lunch at Santa Maria?" it read.
Santa Maria Taqueria was the new trendy Mexican place on Pennsylvania Avenue, close to Lincoln park if Alice remembered correctly. Important people did go there, but it wasn't close enough to Capitol Hill to attract the usual bigwig lunch crowd. Pretty affordable, too.
"Sure," Alice texted back.
Were she and Dahlia friends? Alice supposed so. They definitely weren't going to talk about work in a public place. This was purely a social call.
Conscious of her appearance, Alice put her hair up and picked out a business casual outfit: just a blouse, slacks, and a jacket in case it got cold. Understated, neutral colors, she was just another office worker on her lunch break, nothing out of the ordinary. She didn't want attention. Everyone would be looking at Dahlia's sexy ass anyway.
The Mexican spot was deep in the district and a bit of a drive from their Arlington apartment so Alice left early with plenty of time to spare. She could afford a nicer car than her basic Toyama Caliber, but again, she didn't want to attract too much attention. Alex insisted on still driving that old truck he bought during his Marine days so this was somewhat on brand for them as a couple.
Traffic was surprisingly light and before long Dahlia was waving her down in the parking lot.
"I've already got a table for us," her boss said, pulling her into a hug.
I was right, Alice observed. While she was an office lady, Dahlia was an "office siren", dressed in a low-cut blouse and a tight pencil skirt with her trademark librarian glasses hanging low on her nose.
Perfect, nobody will be looking at me.
Santa Maria Taqueria had a friendly atmosphere, with warm lighting, white plastered walls, and well-polished wooden tables.
"You've got to try the margaritas," Dahlia said excitedly as they sat down.
"I can have one beer," Alice allowed. "Tecate, please."
Dahlia's eyes lit up merrily. "Br-, I mean, my husband's favorite."
"Save it, Dahlia. I know your husband's name is Brad. You've let it slip a dozen times."
"Oh, fine. I guess we're even. Your husband's name is Alex."
Alice blushed. "We're not married."
Dahlia just smiled. "Yet."
They'd talked about it for sure, but it just never seemed like the right time. Maybe after they bought a house?
As you'd expect from a taqueria, the menu was mostly tacos. Alice got shrimp and steak while Dahlia ordered pork belly. You'd never know it by looking at her but that woman really liked greasy food. How she maintained that snatched waist was a mystery, magic maybe?
"Anyway," her boss said, munching on chips and salsa while they waiting for their food, "Brad made Master Chief! He's up in Groton right now. Being a COB is huge deal, crowning achievement of his career."
As ever, Dahlia's favorite subject was her family. "Cob?" Alice asked, puzzled.
"Chief of the boat," Dahlia explained. "Top enlisted Sailor on the submarine, similar to a Sergeant Major. Your man is in the Marines, right?"
"Was," Alice clarified.
"Once a Marine, always a Marine," Dahlia said sagely. "We're two typical Washington girls, aren't we? The wife works in government or a non-profit and the husband is in the military. I know so many couples like that."
Alice joined her in digging in to the chips. "Is that what we are? Government or a non-profit?"
An evil smile, incongruous with her beautiful features, marred her handler's face. "That's complicated. A little of both, maybe? But enough about work, how's Alex?"
She didn't really want to answer but it was hard to say no to her boss. "New project is kicking his ass, and I'm not helping. The, uh, sleep issue is back. It's been too long, if you know what I mean."
Dahlia's eyebrows knitted together with worry. "I do know what you mean. I thought perhaps..." she cut herself off. "Don't worry. I have something for you. My oldest sends her thanks, by the way. The alumni interview with Alex really helped her get into MIT."
"That's great, Dahlia!" she said sincerely. Her handler's kids were superstars. Typically, she wanted to keep her boyfriend as far away from her work as possible, but Alice was happy to make an exception for Dahlia.
When their food came, her boss moaned audibly when she took her first bite. "Mmmmmm, oh my god, Alice, you've got to try this pork belly taco!" She offered her a bite.
At first Alice tried to refuse, grease didn't agree with her, especially in her current state, but Dahlia insisted. "Oh, fine."
It's so good!
Honestly, the restaurants were the best part of living in the DMV. The best chefs in the country came here to soak up those sweet, sweet government expense accounts.
"So your husband is up in Groton, that's in Connecticut, right?" Alice asked conversationally as she dug in to her shrimp taco.
Dahlia nodded. "Big east coast submarine base. We're long distance right now. I've got the kids here with me in the district while he's getting ready to go to sea. Hopefully he can time his leave for when I'm ovulating..."
"Dahlia, you can't just say that!" Alice complained. People could hear.
Her boss shrugged. "Who cares? We've got four, want five. Trust me, once you've got a family that size, nothing can gross you out or embarrass you anymore. My oldest girl is starting college in the fall. Soon enough they'll all be gone. I want to be pregnant again, hold my baby again. You'll understand someday."
Alice did understand, actually. Role-playing they were making a baby was Alex's favorite. At first she wasn't into it, but over time the idea grew on her. The only problem was her work. How the hell was she supposed to be a mom and an assassin? How did Dahlia do it? Did she even go out into the field anymore?
Once they finished eating, Dahlia picked up the check. "Let's go to my office," she said seriously.
Alice followed Dahlia's expensive MWB to the day spa and they entered together.
"Good morning, Debbie!" Dahlia greeted the receptionist warmly.
Were they supposed to talk to these people? Were they actors? Employees? Was it even a real day spa?
"Let's get to it," her handler said as they sat down at her desk, casually dropping a packet in front of her. "It's your new target."
Alice opened it excitedly. "Let's see here...Gareth Hart, journalist?"
"A very naughty journalist, uncovering all types of things best left in the dark." She indicated a highlighted passage.
"The Fort Benavidez Cartel," Alice read aloud. "What's that?"
"Nobody's business," Dahlia stated.
Alice thumbed through the material. They had pictures, social media, and a bio of the target. "Let's see here, disgruntled Iraq war veteran turned left wing activist. He's dedicated to exposing US Army war crimes and alleges that there is a criminal conspiracy headquartered in Fort Benavidez, North Carolina, the home of the Special Forces. Is he right?"
"Privately? Yes," Dahlia admitted. "If he'd limited his investigation to individual wrongdoing, sergeants bringing Afghani heroin back to sell in America and such, we'd likely never have gotten this assignment. The problem is he's implicated some very big fish: retired generals, some of whom are in congress on both sides of the aisle. This will be our most bipartisan target yet."
The Corps worked for both sides, Alice knew, but usually one at a time. This Gareth Hart had made some powerful enemies.
"Not a lot to go on in terms of his social life," she commented.
Dahlia looked at her knowingly. "He's heterosexual. That's the first thing we checked before deciding to give this one to you. Honestly, assigning our best female honey trap a gay target, I hope somebody got fired for that one," she said in disgust.
Alice studied her packet. "Still, he's not a Washington type guy at all. The district is a social place. People hit up bars and restaurants every night. It's why my MO works here. Gareth is a homebody whose presence is mostly online, and it says here he lives in Austin."
Her boss held up a hand. "We can lure him here, no problem. It's just going to require some, shall we say, tactical adjustments."
Alice didn't exactly like the sound of that. "Adjusted how?"
"Mr. Hart is careful, likely knows people are after him. He avoids public places and doesn't go home with women he barely knows. But he is a journalist, and like all journalists, he can't resist a big scoop."
"And how am I supposed to offer him a big scoop?" she asked.
Dahlia pointed to a highlighted line in the target profile. "Gareth Hart has an MO as well. The book he's writing, The Fort Benavidez Cartel, is still incomplete. Where does he get most of his information, you ask? He interviews disgruntled military spouses, ex wives of Special Forces Soldiers, that kind of thing."
Alice hummed in thought. "I can speak acronym, to a degree. You're right, us Washington girls do tend to end up with military guys, current or former. But what am I supposed to say?"
"You're going to have to do some research, but I can give you some guidance. The typical psych profile of a Special Forces Soldier is driven, Type A, high-achiever. It's not public knowledge, but 'ethical flexibility' is also a serious selection criteria. Troubled pasts are common. These men are under a lot of stress and cope with substance abuse. Alcohol, illegal drugs, and steroids are all frequently used. The government asks much of them, and they accomplish their mission by any means necessary. Hart wants dirt on men like that. Offer him some and he's yours."
Still, not a lot to go on. "Alex told me that there are cultural differences between the different branches of the military. If I inadvertently use Marine jargon Hart will suspect something is up."
"Quite right," Dahlia agreed. "We need something juicy, a story that will entice Mr. Hart into your web, something he can't possibly ignore. From there, you can do what you do best."
Alice mirrored Dahlia's evil smile with one of her own.