Hunting the Fox

The air was cool in the early Friday morning in Chicago. Lake Michigan has a light fog rippling along the surface of the water in the pre-dawn light. A running path hugged Lakeshore drive, which a fair share of runners used, who did not enjoy running along the beach. One runner in particular ran with a purposeful determination. Her shoulder length copper hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of her neck was swinging back and forth with each long stride. Her grey-green eyes staring determinately forward as her long legs stretched forward in an experienced runner's stride. The sounds of pop music pumped through her ear pods, helping her keep at a specific pace. Her athletic body moved to the motion of her strides. Dressed in black running tights, cobalt long sleeve shirt and light gloves, she ran on. Her breath came out in a steady breath in the chilly morning air as her breast heaved with each deep breath. Halfway through her five miles the sound of pop music shifted to Mozart's Requiem. This alerted her to someone trying to contact her. She moved off the path as to prevent colliding with other runners on the path. She withdrew her smartphone form a side pocket in her shirt and pressed the connect button ending the Mozart piece. "Good morning Marcus," the runner said as she attempted to catch her breath. She saw he name appear on the caller ID of her phone. "Good morning to you Doctor Reid." A male voice replied through her ear buds. "What can I do for you this morning?" Asked Dr. Reid in a slight Scottish accent, "And you know I prefer Kiera." "Kiera," Marcus said, "We have someone in custody, and we need your expertise to find out what they know." Doctor Kiera Reid was a criminal psychologist, working for the Central Intelligence Agency. Her specialty was reading body language or interviewing, as she liked to call it. The Agency referred to her skills as information gathering or interrogation. Since her three years at the Agency she has helped out with numerous cases in which she used her skills to detect if someone with fabricating the truth or, as most people would call it lying. The CIA recruited her from University of California located in Berkeley, California. She was twenty-five years old at the time and completing her thesis on why people lie. Marcus Garza, a CIA representative approached her during her last months at the University of California. After her graduation, Kiera attended a twelve month training program at Camp Peary in Williamsburg, Virginia. She then received her first assignment at the Chicago field office in Illinois. Kiera expected an orders to the field office in San Francisco, California. She wanted to be close to her parents who were genetic scientist. Her parents had emigrated from Dundee, Scotland when Kiera was ten years old. The United States government and the University of California asked her parents to work for them, since they were well-known genetic scientist. They agreed it would be a great opportunity for their family. Kiera hated to leave her grandparent and Scotland, but thrived as a child in city of Berkeley. While in high school she accepted a scholarship at Oxford University, a part of her past she wanted to bury deep in her memories. Afterwards she finished her Doctorate in Psychology at the University of California. The criminal mind fascinated Kiera. It amazed her now people could commit a crime and then justify the outcome in their own mind as the right thing. People with this abnormality could easily lie or trick their brain into altering the truth. Her thesis interested the CIA greatly as Agent Marcus Garza had explained. Since her three years in Chicago, she has had time to improve upon her original thesis. She felt she could do some great work and really make a change. "I can be there in an hour." Kiera answered coming back from the past, "I'm out on a run this morning." "No can do Kiera," said Marcus lightly, "We need you now." "Marcus," Kiera sighed. Her Scottish accent taking on a stronger brogue, "I'm out running along the lake. There is no way I can get home, take a shower, change, and get to the field off ice in time." "Well good thing I'm near you Princess Merida." Kiera heard Marcus chuckle over the phone Kiera frowned as Marcus chuckled over the phone. Her colleagues had given her the Disney princess nickname from the movie Brave for her Scottish accent and copper red hair. When she felt stressed or tired Her Scottish brogue would present itself. Glancing around Kiera saw a non-distinct sedan with dark windows parked off to the side of Lakeshore drive. She noticed Marcus standing by the car waving and holding a phone up to his ear. Blowing back a lock of copper colored hair in exasperation, Kiera walked across the running path. She disconnected her phone and put it back in the shirt pocket. She withdrew a small water bottle and took a drink. As she walked closer to Marcus, she saw what the other women in the office gossiped. Marcus Garza, a handsome Puerto Rican with a smooth face and strong chin put away his phone. He had short-cropped black hair, dark brown eyes, and a dark tan. He was wearing the usual dark suit with a tie loosened around his neck. He was a tall man, at six feet and three inches, Kiera only reached to the top of his nose. Kiera noticed him give her a quick appraising look in her running clothes. She swallowed and blushed slightly as his eyes ran along her body. She knew she was beautiful, but tried to hide it behind her glasses and lab coat. This goal only seemed to enhance her beauty and she would sometime overhear the comments. "I Brought you some coffee." Marcus said putting away his phone and holding out a disposable cup. "I would rather have a shower," Kiera responded, "But I guess the coffee will do." "Sorry Kiera," Marcus apologized, "This is really important and the higher ups asked for you specifically." Kiera rolled her eyes. Taking the cup of coffee, she climbed into the passenger seat of the car. She removed he lid to peek inside the cup. "Don't worry," Marcus said dropping his strong frame into the driver seat, "One cream and no sugar." "Are you stalking me now?" Kiera asked raising her eyebrow as she placed the lid back on. "Well," Marcus said rubbing his chin, "you don't to get to be the Director of the clandestine service without observing other people's habits." He smiled showing a row of brilliant white teeth. Marcus was the Director of the field agents in clandestine service. His Puerto Rican heritage allowed him access to the local gangs in Chicago. These gangs worked for the drug cartels in South America. The CIA recruited Marcus from the Marine Corps after serving several tours in Desert Storm and Afghanistan. The CIA thought his skills would be helpful in reducing the drug trade. Marcus proved himself a superb field agent. Infiltrating deep into the drug cartel's network and undermining their work. One time the FBI blew his cover during a mission. He barely made it out of South America alive. Since Marcus could no longer be an undercover field agent. The only position left open to him was an instructor at Camp Peary or Director of field agents in Chicago. Those closest to Marcus thought he would accept the instructor position, but he surprised everyone by accepting the Director Position. "You know primates show their teeth as a sign of aggression." Kiera said in a matter of fact tone. "You really are a nerd Doc." Marcus replied as he kept the open mouth grin, "Let's go." He pulled the car out into traffic quickly. Kiera held her coffee tightly. "What is this important that I could not get a shower and some breakfast?" Kiera inquired. "We picked up an international terrorist," Marcus explained as he navigated around a taxi. "He was picked up at O'Hare international airport around midnight. He was coming from Europe. He has been in our cross hairs for quite some time and now we have him." "And why do you need me?" "Kiera, this is just one guy in the chain. He can lead us to bigger fish." Marcus said as he swerved around another taxi that slowed down in front of him. Kiera stopped short of drinking her coffee and gave Marcus a scathing look. "Sorry about that princess," he chuckled, "We need you to get Intel on this guy. Why is he here? Whom is he meeting with? Get into this guy's head and bust it open wide." "Your command of the English language is amazing Marcus." Kiera sighed dramatically and then used a forearm to wipe sweat from her brow. Within a few minutes, they arrived at the field office parking garage. Marcus and Kiera presented their credentials to the armed guard. The guard looked the credentials and then waved them through. Driving under the federal building in the parking garage, Marcus parked the car in his Director parking spot and killed the engine. "Can I grab a few things from my office?" Kiera requested finally taking a sip of the hot coffee. She grimaced knowing the taste of gas station coffee, but it was better than no coffee. "I can give you two minutes top," offered Marcus, "We don't have a lot of time." Kiera opened the passenger door and climbed out as Marcus pulled himself out of the driver side. Once in the elevator Kiera pushed the button for the twenty-ninth floor. She shifted uncomfortably feeling her heart and breathing quicken as Marcus stood next to her. They stood quietly as the elevator pumped out music. Once at the twenty-ninth floor Kiera stepped out and Marcus held the elevator door open. "Two minutes," Marcus repeated holding up two fingers, "Then get down to basement level 4." "Yes dad." Kiera said sarcastically then turned, heading for her office at the end of the hallway. Kiera had heard about basement level 4. It is where they kept the interrogation cells for high profile people. Kiera had a feeling that Marcus was watching her walk. She blushed slightly as she hurried to her office. Once in her office, Kiera quickly grabbed her spare glasses, a note pad, and pencil. She scanned her office to make sure she did not forget anything and left her office. Rushing to the elevator, she took another sip of the coffee and shuttered. She reached basement level 4 through the elevator and looked at her watch as she stepped out. It was 6:25am. 'I'm really not getting paid enough for this.' She thought stepping out into the cinderblock hallway. The hallway was plain looking with its cinderblocks, lined metal doors, and florescent lights. Kind of looked creepy in some ways since some of the lights flickered. Behind those basic looking walls were steel plates and advance surveillance systems. Kiera saw Marcus standing at the end of the hallway tapping his watch. Kiera sighed and shook her head as she headed over to him. She pulled out her glasses and put them on as she stepped close to him. "I know I'm a minute late," Kiera answered him, "But you asked for my help remember." "I know, I know," Marcus said holding up his hands in mock defense. "Okay I need some basic information on this guy," Kiera started with her usual questions, "Like what is his name? Where is he from? Does he have any family?" Kiera twirled her finger to emphasize her point. "His name is Jack Durand, he is a French nationalist," Marcus explained, "He has two sisters and a mother living in Paris. They live in an expensive house. He speaks good English and has been traveling between Europe and Asia very often." "Are the sisters older or younger than him?" Kiera inquired. "They are younger, why?" Marcus replied. "No reason, continue with your information." Kiera said waving the question away. "Mister Durand is a suspected member of a European terror group called the Libertarian Nationalist Front or LNF for short." "I don't think I have heard of this group." "They have been quiet for a few months. They pop up every now and then with the occasional bombing, nothing that put us on the alert." "What did you mean by a few months ago?" Kiera probed noticing how he hinted at that part. "Kiera," Marcus groaned uncomfortably as he ran his finger though his hair, "You don't have the clearance and I don't have the time to explain. Please get in there and find out what he knows and why he is here. He had a connecting flight from here to Washington D.C. later in the week." "That is not a lot of information to go on, but I can work with it." Kiera winked. "There will be cameras watching everything. Stay on your side of the table and everything will be fine." Marcus warned, "This is a dangerous man." "Really," Kiera swallowed and felt the blood drain from her face, "How dangerous is he?" "You can do this Kiera," Marcus placed a strong hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Stay on your side of the table. We have him handcuffed to the table as a precaution. I just wanted to warn you." Kiera nodded and then Marcus opened the interrogation door. Kiera took a deep breath and walked into the metal room with its bolted table and chairs. She saw a man lounging in a metal chair with his hands handcuffed to the table. On her first impression of the man, he looked to be in his thirties with sandy colored hair and green eyes. His face was dark, weather beaten and lined. To Kiera Durand could be a Sailor or Merchant Marine. As she stepped into the room and the door closed behind her. She noticed that Durand went from a relaxed position to sitting up straight. His eyes looked alert as if expecting someone. The look in his face and eyes told her that he recognized her from somewhere. 'That is strange.' Kiera thought. "Good morning, Mr. Durand," Kiera said smiling brightly, trying to keep her voice calm. "Who are you?" Durand asked in a threatening gruffly tone with a French accent, but she observed that he did know her. "Do we know each other?" Kiera asked slowly giving the man a quizzically expression. The man sat stony face not saying another word. 'Alright let's play this game.' Kiera thought smiling. "I'm Doctor Reid, a criminal psychologist with the CIA." Kiera said and showed her identification, "You may call me Kiera if you like and may I call you..." Kiera left the sentence hang in the air. "You already know my name, Red." Durand said staring at her. "That's what my Da calls me at home, but you are right Mister Durand," Kiera responded with a grin, "I just wanted to be polite." Kiera sat down in the metal chair. She took a drink of the coffee, grimaced, and pushed it towards Durand. "I really can't drink that gas station coffee. You can have it." "You don't look like the typical CIA folks," Durand said looking her up and down with an appraising look. He took the coffee and leaned over to drink some. "I was out for my morning run when I was called in." Kiera stifled a shiver as his eyes roamed along her body. She crossed her legs, placing the note pad on her leg and resting the pencil. "What do you think about the coffee?" Kiera paused for a moment. She noticed that Durand was not comfortable with silence. HIs body moved a bit restless and his eyes seemed to dart around the room. He took is time looking up at a small video camera in the corner. She observed him licking his lips and opening his mouth as if about to say something, then he would shut it. Kiera watched him with a small smile on her face. "I know what you are doing, Red." Durand spoke nervously. "And the coffee taste like a mules ass." "I'm glad you enjoy it and what exactly am I doing?" Kiera asked giving a confused look. "You're playing this silence game to get me to talk." "Really," Kiera raised an eyebrow in mock surprise as she leaned back in her chair. "Well I'm here to see..." He stopped in mid-sentence when Kiera held up ha hand. She knew by the tone of his voice and the shifting of his eyes that he was going to fabricate the truth. She needed to stop him in his tracks. "Jack," Kiera spoke slowly tilting her head, "I know why you are here." "You do?" Kiera noticed uncertainty in his face as he eyes darted around the room. "Yes, you have already told the CIA why you are here." Kiera looked at her blank note pad, tapping her pencil against it as if marking off fake points that Durand could not see, "You are here to see a sick grandmother living here in Chicago." Kiera glanced up from her notepad waiting for a response. "Ye...yes," The man said hesitantly. "Well that sounds like a perfectly good reason to fly in around midnight. I hear that the red eyed flights are cheaper flights," Kiera made her voice sound unconcerned, "I mean with the rest of your family in Paris in that big house and a alone grandmother living her." Kiera let the sentence hang in the air. "You don't believe me?" Durand blurted out his face became flush with anger and Kiera saw his arms flexing. She observed that he was putting on a show, a nothing to be afraid of type of show. Kiera had to do everything she could to keep herself relaxed look on her face, 'He is on the other side of the table and in handcuffs,' Kiera reminded herself. "Jack," Kiera spoke calmly, "it's not that I don't believe you. I really don't care." She kept her face neutral. The man had a comical confused look on his face as she sat up straight. Kiera caught the red flush leaving his face as her words disarmed him. 'Now we are getting somewhere.' Kiera thought. "You have a specific reason for being here in the United States. I feel like I'm wasting my time here." Kiera explained shrugging her shoulders, "Now my morning is interrupted," Kiera continued smiling inward at the uncertain look in his face. 'Just a bit more,' Kiera thought. "Your morning was interrupted?" His mouth was hanging open. "Yes, my morning 5 mile run was cut down to 2 miles. My nice hot shower back at my apartment ruined. My morning paper with coffee ruined and my breakfast with Ginger ruined." Kiera ticked off each item with the tap of her pencil. "Now I'm sitting here talking to you, drink bad coffee, starting to smell and I feel like my day will never get back on track." "What...day...run," Durand blurted out confused, "Ginger?" "Yes, Ginger," explained Kiera slowly, "my cat." "What is going on?" Jack looked around confused. Kiera rolled her eyes theatrically and pulled out her phone. Flipping through some pictures she found one of her orange colored tabby, "This is my cat Ginger." Kiera smiled at his confusion. "Why are you showing this to me?" Durand asked with confusion, Kiera saw the way the man looked at the orange tabby cat sleeping on its back and then up at her. "Jack," Kiera said placing the phone down on the table, "I'm showing you this because I want to show you that I'm telling you the truth. I want you to stop lying to me," Kiera changed her tone to a scolding one, "I'm tired, I smell, I want a hot shower and I want to see my cat. So tell me why you are here." She tapped her finger on the table to emphases each word. "I told..." Kiera stopped him in midsentence as she stood up and smacked her hand against the table to stop him. "You don't have a grandmother living here." Kiera clarified, leaning towards him, "Your mom and sisters are back in Paris. Why would your grandmother live in the United States away from her granddaughter and daughter?" Kiera raised one brow sitting back down with a deep sigh while shaking her head. 'Okay give me what I want.' Kiera thought. She observed that he was about to lie again as he swallowed. He licked hips lips and looked around the room. Kiera knew this was the breaking point, but unexpectedly his eyes grew wide as he looked down at the table. Kiera gave a confused look. This is not what she wanted from him. She quickly glanced down to see what he was looking at. Following his gaze, he was looking at her phone on the table. The phone had gone into sleep mode. The screen did not show a orange tabby cat, but I showed a younger Kiera standing next to a young tall handsome rugged man with chestnut colored hair. The young man had his arm around Kiera and they were smiling for a picture. In the background was a cabin surrounded by red ferns. Kiera looked up slowly as the man looked at her. She was shocked to see the wide-eyed look, but oddly, there was more to his expression. He was trying to hide smile. "You know Fox." Durand said as a statement. "You know this person," Kiera said slowly forgetting the mixed expression on his face and feeling a chill run down her spine, "Are you meeting him somewhere, Chicago or Washington D.C." "I...I don't know what..." Kiera would not let him finish. She needed answers now. "It's Washington D.C. right? I saw the way your eyes moved when I mentioned that state. Where in D.C. are you meeting, Jack?" Kiera asked in a stern tone. "I...I..." Durand stuttered, but she observed that it was all an act. 'What is he playing at?' Kiera thought as she confused by the act. "Fox right?" Kiera thought quickly and asked, "That was his nickname in high school when we were on the cross country track team." It seemed like that did the trick. Kiera saw he wanted to tell her something. "Where are you going meet him?" Kiera repeated the question, "Please tell me." "A bar," Durand breathed out. "What bar, Jack," Kiera pressed him cautiously using his first name. Everything was tilting on the edge of a cliff. "The Foxhole in D.C.," responded Durand, "How do you know the Fox?" She saw he was visible relieved to get the information out. 'What was with the game?' Kiera thought. Then she opened her mouth to ask another question, but the door to the interrogation room opened up. Kiera turned abruptly to see Marcus standing at the entrance to the room. "Thanks Kiera," Marcus said, "I will take it from here." Kiera turned back to Durand and then back to Marcus confused for a moment, "Wait I'm not done. I have more questions.' Kiera protested putting her hands up to stop him. "We got what we want from him." Marcus said, "Please leave the room Kiera." Kiera heard a command in the tone of his voice. Kiera glanced at Durand who looked scared now. It was as if he needed to tell her more. Kiera stood with a deep sigh. 'What else does he want to tell me?' Kiera thought as she picked up her stuff. Marcus pressed his hand on the small of her back gently urging her out of the room. Kiera looked back one more time as the door closed in her face. She saw him mouthed something to her. 'Find Fox,' Kiera thought, 'what does Ryan have to do with this?' She pressed her head against the interrogation door trying to think.