“Ah, Will? Come on over, close the door and sit down,” Allen Adams, the IT manager of “William and Brooks” smiled at Wilfred, pointing to the chair in front of his table. Wilfred complied.
“So Will, you are leaving us tomorrow.” Allen shook his head rolling his lower lip as if acknowledging this fact.
“That’s right sir.”
“Yeah… and why not, really? You’ve done what you came here for. The project is done, everything is cool…right?”
“There’s one thing I wanted to talk to you about, Will. You know, the code that you wrote, it’s a little weird.”
“Weird? In what sense?”
“I don’t know if weird is the right word. I didn’t mean to offend you. But, your logic is kind of…” he rotated his hand in the air several times attempting to help him to express his thought process. "I’ve never seen anything like that. I am not saying it’s bad.”
He smiled seeing how Wilfred’s face becoming cloudy, “But it’s cryptic and I wonder if in your absence other people will be able to do modifications to it?”
“It’s just strange.” He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, “strange, somewhat strange.”
“I commented it when it could present any difficulties. So I don’t envision any problems.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Allen continued looking at him as if expecting Wilfred to tell him some secret information. “aaaam…make sure you’ll leave us your contact information, just in case.”
“Your personnel office has all my information. If anything, give me a call or Skype me.”
“Yeah…” Mr. Adams wanted to add something else but apparently made a decision not to. “Yeah, don’t want to hold you anymore. Go catch your flight.”
In the airport, Wilfred got an unexpected phone call.
“Is this Wilfred?”
“Yes. And you are?”
“My name is Jorge and I am with …” here the man on the other end of the wire said something not very distinctive. He also had some strange accent that Will couldn’t place right away. ‘Fucking telemarketers’ he thought. “we are contacting you on a personal matter…”
“Personal matter? I don’t have any personal matters,” Will was trying to end the unwanted conversation.
“I am not a person!” Will hung up the phone. ‘Sometimes I think I am some kind of a bio-robot, really.’
Wilfred walked through a passenger boarding aerobridge when unexpectedly two airport police officers stopped him.
“Stand your face to the wall; hands on the wall!”
Wilfred phlegmatically obeyed. He didn’t even ask why they stopped him. Similar incidents happened often, almost in every airport. Something about him made custom officers of every country pick him out of the crowd and search. He felt stiff palms roaming around his body. Finally, one of them barked abruptly “You may go.”
Wilfred turned around, looked them and grinned.
“Aren’t you guys going to x-ray my stomach?”
The officer threw at Wilfred a hateful gaze but only repeated, “You may go.”
On the plane, this incident somehow stuck in Wilfred mind and he mulled over it while watching the movie.
‘Why does it always happen to me? As if I am some kind of a secret agent.’ Wilfred couldn’t hold a short laugh. “Secret agent man” song started playing in his mind.
Wilfred couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being watched. This feeling had no logical explanation as nothing in his life was out of the ordinary. He didn’t have any criminal record, tax evasion, or hidden passion, had a regular job and a regular family life. Occasionally, he had to fly to a job site in another state. This was as close to any spy action as it got. Yet this annoying feeling lately started wrapping his thoughts with a thin sticky film of anxiety. Wilfred rose in his chair and took a look around.