Meg looked at the handwritten note that was stuffed inside the journal. At the top was scribbled 'Mid-life Mission – things I want to do before I'm too old'. Feeling a profound sadness and tightness behind her eyes, she read through the list:

Harley ride across America
St. Patrick's Day parade in New Orleans
Go to a Biker Rally
Sleep under the stars
Skinny dip in the ocean
Dance in the rain
Eat in a Route 66 diner
Dirty dance in a bar
Sing on stage with a live audience
Make friends with a complete stranger
Drink really expensive whiskey and wine
Learn to use a bow and arrow
Make love – in a waterfall, in front of a roaring fire, and in a penthouse suite
Fall in love again
Buy a house in the Rocky Mountains

Carefully, she folded the list and stuck it in her wallet. Not for the first time, Meg wondered if she was doing the right thing - if this was what Doug would have wanted her to do. After all, he'd never shown her this list when they were together, but here she was, about to leave her tidy little townhouse with no plans to ever return.

"What the hell," she thought to herself. "Chasing ghosts is what I do best."

                     *****************************

Four hours north in a New York City studio, two men were gathered to discuss putting their own mission into action.

"You sure this is the same woman?" the taller of the two, Samuel asked. "I don't really see it."

The smaller man, Michael, pointed angrily at the picture. "Of course I'm sure. I spent the better part of  four months staring at that face, memorizing every detail and facial expression. The changes she underwent damned near fooled me, but not for long."

He paused and glanced around at all the portraits hanging on the walls of his photography studio. He was an award-winning photographer who'd gotten rich with his signature candid shots of celebrities and everyday people alike. "Anyway, I confirmed it after seeing her photo on the wall at the CIA headquarters when Sally took me to her office. It was her face, with a plaque that said 'Meg MacAndrews - retired'."

Samuel shrugged, "What makes you think she'll notice Norman?" he asked with raised eyebrows.  "And even if she does, it's a huge fucking leap to them falling for each other."
      
"She's vulnerable - lost both her job and the only boyfriend she's ever had in just a few months, according to Sally. The timing is never going to be better," Michael turned and walked to the large window overlooking Lexington Avenue. He waved his hand in the air and continued, "And trust me, he'll notice her... there's just something about her that men find impossible to ignore."

"Okay, I'll get Norman and the crew booked into the townhouse in St. Augustine and Damon's house in New Orleans. You made sure she's already booked in their rental space there?"

"Yeah, he didn't even ask questions. I think he assumed she's a secret piece of ass for Norman."

Samuel just nodded and started to walk through the door, but stopped short. "I get why you want to do this to her, and I damn sure know why I want to do it to Norman," he stared hard at the other man, trying to see past his perpetually present sunglasses. "But why exactly do you want him to suffer like this? I thought you two were really close - like childhood buddies or something?"

A dark cloud passed over Michael's face, matching the permanent scowl he wore. "I learned the hard way that loyalty is rarely a two way street."