Danger in Bound: Aerosolized Diplomacy

Please Note: What follows is a short story and a work of fiction.

“I’ve had those dizzy spells again.” Mark Sicnaer said as he sat his styrofoam cup of coffee beside his work console and logged in.

Xavier Tomilson his station chief looked up from his stack of cables. Sicnaer looked over at him. He shrugged.

“You said to tell so I’m telling you.”

“What happened?” Tomilson asked, looking back at his papers. There was a pause. Tomilson looked up. Sicnaer looked small, hunched in his chair rubbing the edge of the cup with his thumb.

“It sounds really dumb.”

“Son,” Tomilson began, “back when I was a pup, they made an inflatable suitcase dummy to throw off the tails. Not much surprises me.”

Sicnaer gave a half smile.

“I remember that case.”

Tomilson rolled his eyes. “Dad jokes. Well, you earned it. She sleeping better?”

Sicnaer nodded. “Yeah. We’re hoping we’re past these terrible twos. Jenn’s taking her off grid to the states for a bit. Mom’s having surgery.” He looked down.

Tomilson cocked his head. “What?”

Sicnaer shook his head. “I dunno, sir.” He began. “I have an uneasy feeling about it.”

“Specifics, son.” Sicnaer nodded. “Like I told you with the Cuban case, scalpel cuts not shovel shits.”

A half smile from Sicnaer. The a furrow formed across his brow.

“I feel like the fence is down. Like these spells or whatever you call them, that they mean something. They’re psychologically intense memories.”

“OK.” Tomilson said setting his cables down. “I haven’t known you to be a drama queen about much. Tell me about this last one, from the top.”

“Not much to tell.” Sicnaer began. “I walking the dog, getting the lay of the land in a part of our neighborhood I haven’t been to much. And this scrap truck passed me. And I swear, I mean it was already really warm this morning, but I swear I felt a cool breeze from the truck mirror as it passed.”

“Probably just the air conditioner.”

Sicnaer shook his head. “Windows were closed.”

“Evaporative cooling from the load it was hauling?”

“Half empty with scrap metal. And the spell kicked in right as it passed.”

“How long?”

“Twenty, thirty minutes, same as before. A little stronger than the last one.”

“See the driver?”

“Yeah, Hispanic guy, made no eye contact. And what’s funny is he reminded me of another driver about four days back when I another episode. Same vibe with both.”

“Meaning?”

“Well if you were to ask me what I’m seeing, I’d tell you they were both ‘stark still’. Heads didn’t move. Eyes straight ahead.”

“Other car?”

“Red. Beat up old Studebaker like deal. Same thing then. Felt a bit of coolness as it passed even though it was midday. This time it was near my ankles. Which is weird, normally you feel exhausted heat from the cars as they pass. And what’s weird is instead of dizzy, my legs felt wobbly. Right more than my left. And it passed me on my right side as I was walking.”

Tomilson pulled the glasses from the bridge of his nose.

“Honest answer. You burned?”

“I don’t know, sir. My neighbors know I work for State. They’ve been super friendly. Wives get along great. Live local, like you said. But when it’s just me, the woman especially, Elise, will wave but always scans the street and scoops her kids inside. Not frantic. Just direct. Voice always calm as she does it. But the construction people don’t react at all.

“Construction?”

“Yeah, so here’s the weird part,” Sicnaer began as he stood and paced the room. Tomilson watched as he repetitively rubbed his forehead. “They’re caulking.”

“Caulking?”

“Yeah for like two days, every nook and cranny of the soffit, the doorframes. Even saw them messing with the vent on the side of their house.”

“Repairs?”

“If so, they never said a word about it.” He stopped and looked at the wall map for a moment, his eyes moving between the pins.

“What?”

“It’ll sound crazy.”

“Try me.”

“It’s like they’re sealing the house. And I can’t help but connect the events. And it’s not sitting right.”

The old station chief rose and drank the last swig of his coffee.

“He nodded towards the door.”

“What?”

“Come on, let’s go pay a visit to the security office.”

Sicnaer pulled back.

“Wait why? What did I do?”

“Nothing son,” Tomilson said shrugging. He dropped the cup into the trash by the door. He bent down and picked up a napkin that fell behind the trash can. He tossed it in. “But you described two separate episodes of someone using what sounds like chemical psy-ops, perhaps some form of aerosolized narcotics of some sort, and now your neighbor is sealing their house. Because they probably had an heads up and/or work for another intel agency. And mama doesn’t want her babies to be near the street when you are. And you’ll be riding solo while Kimberly is out of town with Lillie. You’re the last two houses on the block. Nothing but open scrub behind you. Any fucking dumbass who’s ever stepped foot in the state of Virginia can see the truth of what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got danger inbound.”