The Z Contingency

Chapter 9

Simon had been in a dark mood for the past several months, to the point that everyone he encountered in the halls of Treasury hurried past him and didn't even bother to greet him any more. Even his fellow plants in OPS avoided him.

Every morning would be the same – storm through what seemed to be miles of maze-like hallways, scowl at everyone he encountered, enter his office, and slam the door shut behind him. After perching himself in an office chair that didn't match his desk, but didn't altogether seem out of place, Simon spent most of his day alternating between remembering the times he had shared with his sister, and devising plans for not only those who murdered her, but also for everyone like them. All to ensure the safety of the country, of course. No, of the world; these Islamic radicals were a threat to the entire world.  And they had to be exterminated, he thought. Simon spent the rest of his time formulating a statement explaining the rationale for having executed the plans that were still taking shape in his troubled mind. A statement he was certain would have to be delivered many times to many people.

Time passed quickly this way. One day he would reminisce about the summer he and Millie spent in the moors of the English countryside near York when he was thirteen. When their father took the family "on holiday" before he officially started his new assignment in London. The next day he would ponder "just nuking them all." Even in Simon's current state, he knew that the use of nuclear weapons was not an option. No matter how appealing that thought was. The ramifications to the United States were too dire. But thinking about wiping the entire race off the face of the Earth felt good to Simon, so he allowed himself to indulge in a bit of fantasizing from time to time. Not for too long though, as he did have serious plans to make, for the course of action he needed to take to gain closure presented itself to him last night.

As kids, they had been ecstatic about the change in their father's assignment; a return to his old post in London was a huge improvement over his last post in Kabul. There was nothing for two children to do in Kabul, or anywhere else in Afghanistan really, and the constant threat of terrorist kidnappings and bombings meant that they spent most of their days trapped within the diplomatic compound. Simon closed his eyes and was instantly reliving a childhood memory in England. It was a cool, brisk morning in the North York moor. One where the fog was a white blanket that played tricks on your eyes as it shifted silently across the landscape. In some areas it developed in pockets too thick to see more than ten feet. It was the perfect natural anomaly for little sisters who liked to play hide and seek with their big brothers. Simon inhaled slowly. He could just sense the smell of the moisture mixed with the wild heather. The sudden reality of the memory caused a moment of pain, which his subconscious quickly steered him away from, by remembering the sound of a giggling little girl, running to the next thick patch of fog and slowly fading out of sight, like a fading memory. It was enough to pull him out of his little indulgence.

And that's all I have now... a memory. Simon lowered his head, and took a deep breath to clear his mind. He felt a clarity he had not known in quite a while. He knew what he had to do.

The next day he was feeling much better. He had actually greeted the Secret Service officer stationed at the employee entrance with a smile and a "good morning." Without waiting for a response, Simon headed down the stairs toward his office. If anyone had looked closely, they might have observed a spring in Simon's step as he marched away. The officer waved at Simon's departing back as he had every day for many years, and was about to call out a greeting when he came to the realization that he had never learned Simon's name.

In what had become his normal routine, Simon would go to bed each night mentally exhausted, only to toss and turn, unable to fall asleep, always pondering what his reaction should be. Some time during the wee hours of last night, Simon had resolved to get retribution for his sister, and eliminate the threat forever. At last he was able to fall into a deep slumber.

He awoke refreshed, more so than he had felt in an eternity. He could now focus on details and contingency planning, two of his specialties. Apparently getting to this decision state was what had been keeping Simon's mind so troubled. Since coming to the decision, his mind had returned to its normal state of calm. The crafting of a plan for achieving his goal, including the accounting for all contingencies and dealing with any possible fallout that may result would be a complex and grueling mental exercise, but that felt almost routine to Simon; he had faced much more difficult missions in the past. He had never had to make such a difficult decision before, and one where the line between national security and vengeance was so blurred.

What form would this take? A nuclear bomb would be most satisfying, but even in his current state, Simon knew what the repercussions would be when the world learned that it had originated from the United States. The same for a chemical weapon, and those had the additional shortcoming of having limited areas of effect. What kind of bomb can I use...? Simon continued to ponder the thought.