Remember How It Began

Remember How It Began is the first volume in a pair of linked stories. It details the opening missions of the most complex operation The Project had ever attempted, how they did it and the price the agents paid along the way.

The Project had been in The Trade for five years, as mercenaries and spies fighting in the sideshows and forgotten theatres of the Cold War. Things changed over those years. Opponents changed. Circumstances changed. And the lives of the intelligence agents, the “Disposable People” of The Project, had changed.

Gary Keith had become an essential part of The Project. He was one of the linchpin men around whom The Project built teams of agents and operators. When a dirty job had to get done right, he got the call. The problem was, he was so good at being bad because he’d been David Cox: shameless, ruthless and entirely willing to be deadly and manipulative to get the job done.

Excerpt:

Whoever it was arriving at the bank headquarters, they didn’t have a reserved parking place nor did they care about traffic rules.

To keep to form, Gary had to stick his head in the back of the van and move something around rather than be seen staring.

Franklin was in the best position to keep talking without being overheard. He took on the Caller role, narrating briefly about what he saw so that everyone knew what was happening. That included Ops-1, who knew that if the risk turned into the worst kind of problem they’d need to be ready.

“Two men out of the limo first. Plainclothes something. Know their protective services drill. They’ve moved to each side of the bank entrance scanning out.”, Franklin patiently stated, listening for other voices on the radio in between each line.

“Big sonofabitch in way too good a suit out to get the other car door.”

“Geeze. One more just like him. Big showy muscle. Both waiting beside the car.”

“Five now out of the limo. Last man is big enough to be more muscle but twenty years older.”

Hawkins spoke, “Good pics. Backing off.”

“Second muscleman getting two briefcases out of the limo.”, Franklin continued. “Old man walking in with his guard. He is looking at you, Hawks.”

“I’m on it.”, Scaletti barked.

A car on the boulevard slammed on the brakes, the driver yelling insults at a jaywalking Scaletti.

“I’m away.”, Hawkins announced.

It’s easier to break contact when everyone looks somewhere else.

“Walking it off.”, Scaletti said a bit breathlessly. “I’m dragging eyes down the street”.