The Faint Taint of Deceit #3

November 2, 2011

Good day to you. It is, once again, time for another exclusive serialised sneak peek into ‘The Faint Taint of Deceit’, my brand new suspense novel. When we last left John Garrison he had just woken up in 1957, having been hit by a taxi in present day, following a confrontation with a foreign diplomat who was smoking in a café. Let’s dip in once more…

Chapter Three: ‘Once Upon A Feeling’

“Where the hell have you been?!” barked Rock Mosley as he beat his desk with his fist “You were supposed to be here at 11am.” Garrison recognised Mosley from his bust in the lobby of CIA headquarters. He was one of the greatest directors the IA ever had, and certainly, its most feared.
“Look, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. One minute, I’ve got an old man in a headlock and the year is 2011. The next minute, I’m lying on West 29th Street and it’s 1957. I need a moment to get my head round this.” There was a tense, quiet silence.
“Is that supposed to be funny, Garrison?” whispered Mosley.

When Garrison graduated from the academy, he wrote his final report on Mosley. He had read in several interviews with colleagues that Mosley always started to whisper before he got really mad. Thinking back to that report, he remembered the section that outlined Mosley’s pet peeves. They included: “far-fetched stories” and “being late.” Garrison could see Mosley was shaking with rage now. “Why were you late?!” he growled. Garrison was sure that one more mention of time-travel would see Mosley leap across the desk brandishing his legendary solid gold envelope opener. This wasn’t the time for the truth.

Garrison thought back to the report once again. He remembered that Mosley only had one soft spot, his rather eccentric love of squirrels. It was a secret that he managed to keep hidden until after his death in 1958, when he left his entire fortune to a squirrel he met once in Central Park. Mosley included a detailed description and DNA sample of the squirrel along with instructions that the money be burned if the exact squirrel couldn’t be tracked down. The squirrel was never found and so the cash was incinerated. It was obvious this was a man who was serious about his squirrels.

“I… eh… was late, sir because on my way here… I… eh… found a squirrel.. with a broken paw. I had to take it to a vet. He’s OK now, but it was a close call,” Garrison punted. He knew it was long shot, but it was the best chance he had. Mosley seemed unmoved, though. He narrowed his eyes and Garrison was sure his gambit had failed.
“The squirrel.” Mosley growled. “Was it grey or red?” The blood drained from Garrison’s entire head. ‘Oh shit.’ he thought. Which ones was it that Mosley loved? He loved one kind and absolutely hated the other. Garrison simply couldn’t remember which was which though.
“It was… red, sir.”
Mosley stared at Garrison and finally asked “And what would you do if you came across a Grey Squirrel, son?”
Garrison swallowed deeply and chanced “Eh… step on its head, sir.”
Mosley smiled warmly. “Good job, Garrison. I wish I had more men like you in the Agency.”
Garrison breathed deeply and thanked Mosley. “As for your mission, Garrison. I’m sending you to the Bahamas.” Mosley handed him a dossier. “There’s a Ruskie I need you to kill.”

To be furthered…

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