Fantastical flights of fiction

Stories by Alexandra Wolfe

The Last Word

Posted on | November 6, 2009

INTER ALIA 
 
‘Trojan Horse’
 
 
JEDBURGH LEANED BACK from the console, put his feet up on the edge of the desk, and sighed heavily. He was irritated for all the wrong reasons and couldn’t quite put his finger on why. There were still a number of little niggling doubts that raised questions, which, quite frankly, had no answers—yet.

He stared at the messages still displayed on the screen but didn’t see them, his mind moved elsewhere, shifting a gear. He was onto planning his next move while wondering if he was putting too much faith and expectation into this woman knowing what she was about? He could so easily be wrong.

“How’s the fishing trip going?” A voice that dripped vitriol brought Jedburgh about. He swung his feet off the desk and swivelled in his chair to identify the owner of the acid. Morgan Lily, in a crisp clean trademark white shirt, leaned against a desk, his arms folded neatly across his chest. His face hung with a smirk. Jedburgh stifled the urge to cream the look off the well-built man’s face, after all, he worked in a business full of young up-starts like this one, if he punched one out, he’d have to punch them all out.

Jedburgh smiled.

These people with their college degree education from some fancy institute, which gained them entry into the academy, all lacked one thing. They had absolutely no imagination. No intuitive grasp of what twenty years out in the field brought. Now that was something you couldn’t find in a book.

“Just fine, just fine.” Jedburgh said round a flash of white teeth. His eyes taking in the man’s posture, attitude, and potential threat.

“Do you really think this thing is going to pan out?” Morgan pressed.

The younger man was one of two who had taken it upon themselves to irritate him of late. But Jedburgh was almost sure this was Trenton’s doing. The Bureau Chief wasn’t about to let him forget his last mistake too soon.

Weis, Morgan’s ever-present shadow, was nowhere to be seen, as Jedburgh cast a glance about the empty computer room. The quiet hum of machinery was the only noise. He wondered what was amiss, as something prickled at the back of his neck. He let his eyes narrow to slits as he stared back at Morgan.

“Oh, I think I’ll have the last word on this one.” He added relaxing.

“Really?” The younger man mocked. “That confident this time?” Morgan shifted and, letting his arms fall to his sides, stood.

Jedburgh said nothing just shrugged his shoulders. These people where in for one hell of a surprise. Christ, he’d only just begun to realize what was at stake here, and he’d been with this for the last twelve years. But then that was another quality these kids lacked: patience.

“You know,” Morgan added as a parting gesture, “you should have pulled her the first time…while you had the chance. Lose her again and, well—” The smile turned feral.

Jedburgh ignored the implied threat and watched the man’s back as it disappeared into the gloom. He gave the room the once over and listened to the mechanical hum.

“No. Not this time.” He muttered to himself as he turned back to the computer and, wiping the text off screen, began calling up a huge list of files in a sub-directory. Files that suddenly began to disappear off screen at an alarming speed.

Jedburgh began to whistle as he slipped the data stick into the port.

“Oh, how I love the Greeks!” 
 
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    Alexandra is a viviparous mammalian carbon-based biped who occasionally makes a living writing and editing words.
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