Gus struck a match and dipped it into the end of his pipe. He sent the first puff through the tattered screen door. The same wind that ruffled Deb’s salt and pepper hair carried the sweet smelling smoke beyond the forested hill and into the purple sky. She sat at the crown of their hill, on her Adirondack throne, the soft hum of her chant only audible between the rhythmic hiss of leaves sliding against one another. The chant was familiar to Gus though, and he mouthed the words around the pipe stem. He only opened the door with its inevitable creak when the chant was done.
“Hear anything tonight?” Gus placed her pipe on the arm of her chair. (more…)
The news hit her hard. The asset she had kept alive all these years was being made obsolete; younger ones were there to take over. With the expiration of their property would come her own, and she knew it. Liaisons only worked with one operative. Once the operative’s usefulness in the field was over, their liaison’s time with the project was as well. (more…)