Anonymous Archectict

 328.

The teams are arranged to provide both utility and cover. Davis and Saunders especially, but also The Queen have at one phase or another had their true identities and employers exposed. The challenge is in building a successful media campaign with them as leads without unnecessary risk. The Queen, being of a modern demographic and familiar with frequent changes of appearance, is good with it, Davis and Saunders, however are on record as saying that their days working undercover are to be henceforth spoken of in the past tense only.

It took some prodding to get them into their new characters, new looks and ready for a fresh start, but, as we knew they eventually would, both have accepted their roles as bring for the good of the team. The good of the team also being for the good of the country.

Julie and Harlan have produced an amazingly thorough playbook. Weighing in at almost three pounds, it covers everything from campaign objectives to operational protocols and local and national media links. The glossary alone spans six pages. We have been instructed to spend the next three days committing its contents to memory and then returning the manual for destruction. At the mention of the time frames I immediately grin like a school-kid at recess. My concern is that, of the four target sites, all of which Julie has indicated are on the receiving end of an unusually high volume of chatter, aren't going to honor our seventy-two hour time-out and temporarily cease and desist. Not the way the terror game works. Still, I have grown into the missions overall concept and, with empty cup, look forward to its implementation and eventual success. Thankfully, at this juncture, aliases and disguises notwithstanding, it appears as if that is the general consensus of opinion with the entire team, a survey I share with Julie and Harlan after the formal presentation has ended.

"Tell me, to whom do we owe the creative kudos of the architecture of this ambitious plan?"

Julie looks at Harlan as he looks at her. I immediately deduce that there is a third party lurking in the shadows somewhere, someone who, given the world in a perfect state, would remain in the shadow of anonymous nom de plume secrecy. Julie makes the face that non verbally tells me that, as much as she would like to, she cannot reveal the identity of the mysterious author…just yet. I put up the stop sign hand and tell her that I understand and that it's OK, a tactical maneuver designed more to protect her than to power-play my way into a need-to-know status.

She tilts her head to the left and offers a telling, "Thank you," to end the conversation.

I spend the rest of the day considering who it might be, and why I would be on the outside of the inner executive committee.

Mustang sneaks up from behind as I sip a cup of tea, lost in speculative thought and conspiratorial considerations.

"Shall we call Preston and get started?"