Chapter 4

After my uneventful stunt in the bathroom, where I did nothing but make retching sounds while splashing water into the toilet for thirty minutes, I was quite relieved to find that when I exited there was absolutely no one on my floor.  Nobody lurking in the closet, trying to hand me shoes, or worse, trying to get in the tub with me, and it was fantastic.  For the first time since my arrival, I had some free time; time that I knew would be short lived.

Letting out a sigh, I began familiarizing myself with the room.  Open would be the first word I would use to describe it, and beautiful would be the second.  If I pictured a modern apartment, this would be the first thing that popped into my mind.  The carpet was plush, the television was huge, and the couches were leather.  The only thing it was missing was its own kitchen. 

My hand ran across the couch as I walked towards the bedroom.  This had to be my favorite room on the entire floor.  There may have been a walk in closet the size of my normal apartment, but it was the room itself that caught my attention.  Red walls normally was a little much for me, but the way Dorothy set it off with the black made it seem antique in a way.  Sure, when I first glanced at the black, satin sheets, the first thing that popped into my mind was far from being fit for children, but once I let my fingers touch the fabric, I knew that I would have to buy some for myself.

Flopping down onto the bed, a groan left my lips as it molded around my form.  Memory foam, I think is what they called it, whatever it was, it was a gift from mankind.  My arms, which were once against my sides, spread out, allowing me to feel the smoothness on my arms.  This was the life; Dorothy had the life.  Too bad, I couldn’t really live it.  This was a luxury in its own, lying on the bed.  Soon, there would be no sleep for me; there would be no time to waste. 

And as my phone began ringing from the bathroom, I knew the time had come to end the peacefulness I was experiencing.  Rising from the bed, I could feel my eyelids begin to drop.  Hmm, seemed like I enjoyed the bed a little too much, or it could be the fact that it was midnight.

The bathroom door was left open, something I must have done, but couldn’t remember.  Bending down towards the sink, I plucked my phone from my bag while reading the ID, Mitch. It was about time the man called me.

Flipping the phone open, I didn’t give him time to talk.  “How could you send me in blind?  Just who all is working on this case, and why didn’t you find a better prepared file?  I almost screwed this up already, and I’ve only been here for a day.”

“Quiet,” he snapped, effectively closing my mouth.  I knew that tone; that tone implied something had gone topsy turvey. 

“What happened?” I whispered, realizing that my tone had been too loud to begin with.

The sigh on the other end of the line did nothing to calm the nerves already wracking through my body.  Closing the bathroom door with a small click, I walked towards my porcelain friend and set the top down.  As I settled down, I waited for him to begin speaking.  Several minutes of silent met my waiting, and the longer I waited, the more I worried.

“Listen; there are some things that I didn’t even know about.”  I nodded before realizing that he couldn’t see me.  He didn’t need any motivation from me though, as he continued.  “There are other agencies working on the case, none as high up in command as we are, but they have FBI on the case.  A couple of CIA agents may be there too, I’m not sure at the moment, haven’t acquired all the files.”

“So, you didn’t know about all the people here already?”

“Only Hodge,” Mitch answered before mumbling something under his breath.

Narrowing my eyes at the phone, I let out a huff.  “I know you don’t like to lie, Mitch.  So, whatever it was that you just mumbled must be pretty important.  What is it?”

“I told you once,” he snapped.  “I’m not telling you again.”

I wanted to demand that he told me, make him give me the info, but I wouldn’t push it.  He was still my boss, and the only reason why I had been this disrespectful so far was because of the fact that I was angry, angry that he would send me in without warnings.  One warning that kept flashing in my mind was one that I definitely needed to ask about.  “Someone has the tattoo, Mitch,” I whispered.

The breathing on the other end of the line stopped before whooshing out.  “I didn’t send another employee in.  I promise.”

“So, he’s an ex?”

“Has to be,” he answered.  “By the way, are you going to tell me where you got your tattoo at?”

I knew the only reason why he asked the question was to get me to smile.  We had a standing joke.  Seeing as I couldn’t see his tattoo, even when he was in shorts and a tank, and he couldn’t see mine even when I was in a bathing suit, we often joked about where each other’s were.  The entire reason for getting the tattoo was for body identification, nothing more.  When one died in the field, the only way they could be identified was by that tattoo.  There were no dental records, no DNA on file, nothing but that tattoo could be linked back to me, back to who I truly was.

“On my ass,” I joked before changing the subject.  “Do you think he’s rouge?”

“Maybe, sweetie,” he said, using the nickname he had been calling me since he took it upon himself to become my surrogate father. 

I could still remember the first time we met.  Just turning sixteen, I knew that in two years I would be forced to leave the only home I knew.  In two years, they would force me to leave, become an adult.  That was when he arrived.  His hair had been darker then, and he wasn’t so soft around the middle, but it was the look in his eyes that clued me in on what kind of man he was, deadly.  When he glanced around the room, the others darted their eyes away, but I couldn’t.  I had to see more of who he was, more of the man behind the face.

With that one act on my part, he had taken me in.  I remember the first words he told me when he finally had all the papers signed.  Looking into my eyes without blinking, he smiled.  “From now on, you have no name, you have no identity.”  Once he saw the hurt in my eyes, as I thought about how I would be the person in the background once again, he sighed.  “I’ll call you sweetie.”

“What do I call you?” I asked, getting passed the hurt and letting my inner demon show through.

He just shook his head at me.  “They call me Mitch.”

Ever since that day, the only name I was ever called was Sweetie, and that was my Mitch, the man that saved my life, that gave me a place to belong.

“Are you there?” a voice cut in, banishing my memories.

Sitting straighter on the lid of the toilet, I cleared my throat.  “I’m here.  Sorry, I was daydreaming.  Did you say something?”

An annoyed sigh left his lips, but I knew it was all a bluff.  “Did you get a good look at the tattoo?  Enough that you could draw me a picture, snap a photo, and send it in.”

“No,” I answered in disappointment.  “I only saw half of it.  His sleeve covered the rest.  Would you like me to draw that part and send it in?”

“It’ll help narrow it down, but it won’t do much good.  Without connecting all the dots, I’ll never know who he is.”  Mumbling sounded on the other side of the line.  “Look, I have to go.  Report in same time tomorrow.”

The sound of nothing echoed through my ears, letting me know that he was indeed gone.  Reaching towards my bag, I grabbed the first piece of paper I could find and anything to write with, which happened to be eyeliner.  My hands flew as they began making the intricate design that was our tattoo.  We all had the same base construction, but the small details were different. That was what let us know who was who.

When I was finally done, I tossed the paper to the side before grabbing what clothing I would need for a bath.  This time, I was going to have a nice bath, one alone.  After that, I would lie down in that bed and let sleep take over.  That was the plan anyway, but we all know what happens to plans, they get screwed up.