New Day

Tijuana, Mexico - Agapov Call Center

The first half hour of any day had become a tutorial put on by Troy Manolo for the seven other phone workers. 

Troy's supervisor had given him the Plan of The Day. The supervisor explained the plan to Troy, and then Troy would "Americanize" it by eliminating European and Baltic overtones. Essentially, he was taking a rough product and adding his own touches to smooth it out and ensure the day would succeed.

Soon, Troy would be handed two plans. The TJ plan and another from another center somewhere else in the world.

Within a monthTroy was helping with 12 Plans of the day from all of the Agapov Call Centers.   It was becoming the largest part of Troy's job. He saw less and less of the crew he worked with as he devoted more time to writing and rewriting the script the callers used on their targets.

Things like "When you and your family go on Holiday" were changed by Troy to "The family vacation." Flats became "apartments. "Building Society became "Savings and Loan" or just a bank. A Caravan was a trailer, a car park was a parking lot. Drink Driving was Drunk Driving, and a fortnight was two weeks.

These small changes were applied to the hundreds of various scams designed to create a solid profile of each victim who would eventually wake up one morning and realize their life savings were gone.

Troy was the editor who smoothed the delivery, so nothing in the victims' ear began to suspect that a scam was being foisted on them.

The TJ branch manager increasingly relied on Troy as a member of the Organization's team, and upper management noticed that small changes were creating better results.

The upper team wanted to know about Troy Manolo, who became a shining example of what dedication and sticking to a plan could do for the bottom line.

On Thursday afternoon, just before the end of the business day, Troy was called down to the office, where he was met by his boss and two men he had never seen before,

The first guy stood about six feet six inches and had black hair and a thick woolen suit that smelled like the animal it came from. It was out of season and perhaps worn every day since the Berlin Wall fell in the nineties, He shook hands with me, Troy as I came in and of course he was another Viktor.

The second new guy was dressed like a man who had gone through a makeover show and then bathed in every kind of British menswear. He did not have a dead animal smell and was introduced as Charlie. He also shook hands with me, Troy.

I'm looking at the second guy and saying this was a master cylinder of the whole organization until their lips started flapping in Russian.

In this case, clothes don't make the man; size does. Mr. Six Six was an order giver, and Mr. British Makeover was here for translation.

Viktor issued an order as we sat at a table, and my immediate boss left the room. I thought that Viktor's suit was made out of ancient Yak fur.

Mr. Translator Charlie said, "Thank you for joining us today" "The company notices the quality of work that you are producing."

I said, "Thank you," and it was sent up the food chain to Viktor, who nodded while observing my mannerisms.

Through translation, it was explained to me that there would be a conference in Barcelona and that they would like me to speak at one point to all of the managers who have been using my scripts for some time now.

They kept going back to "Everything will be paid for by the company but that I must pay for any whores that I order" These were the exact words that Charlie used.

I kept thinking about "You must pay for your whores and trying not to laugh" when I was asked if I had a passport?

I produced the one in Wally's care package taped to the bottom underside of a chair where Wally had left a Glock and a summary of Troy Manolo's background information.

Charlie handed me an application, the first I had seen since I walked through the doorway in Tijuana four months ago.

"You bring back tomorrow"

Charlie took my passport to the copy machine and returned it to me.

The investigation into my background was beginning, and all I could think of was, "You must pay for your Barcelona whores"

Deal!

I looked pleased and promoted as I shook hands and left for my side of the border.

FBI Regional Headquarters - Chelsea, MA

Special Agent Lisa Tanaka had her serious face on in her cubicle despite a few Three Stooges items and a large foam WWE championship belt tacked to the cube. 

She was on the phone with the travel coordinator, who insisted on sending her to Dulles Airport instead of Reagan Airport, providing better immediate public transport options.

Both she and Ben will be on the road again this week. She is in Washington, and he is in Taiwan for an AI/Chip peek into the future. Tanaka was held to standard government travel restrictions and per-diems, while Ben Mason was usually sponsored by a corporation and was given the run of anything first-class.

While on hold, she thought about last night and the last few months with Ben Mason. It was incredible. They shared everything. He was a good cook, a great lay, funny, and good-looking, and they really got along well. Even her snobby parents liked him. This was the first guy that Lisa had ever thought about a real future with. 

The future was about to get real for both of them.

Lisa took a pregnancy test this morning and saw two pink lines.

She was amazed when she realized that this was not an "Oh Fuck" moment for her. She felt calm. She wondered how Ben will feel.

She would find out tonight as he packed for Taiwan.

Federal Correction Institute Lompoc - Lompoc California

Inmate David Wellstone was about to walk out the gate as a free man. He had six years left on a twenty-year sentence when he was brought to the director's office last week. When he walked out of the office, he was a short-timer.

He had made a deal that he gladly accepted.

David was in prison for embezzlement, and even before he found Jesus as his Saviour, he told the world he was guilty. He lived a quiet prison life, and spent his time reading, Bible Study, and keeping on top of sports news. 

The hardest part of his sentence was when, after two years, his wife left him. The money he stole from the aviation company was gone, and she needed more than waiting for an ex-con. 

The only reason he stole from his employer was to keep her happy.

The anger was gone, and his future secure with whatever the lord saw fit was about to begin.

He had made a great deal with The Justice Department and was grateful.