Part Eight
There is an unmarked office building somewhere in Los Angeles. It is the home of Toxic Media, a small multi-media company that is on its last legs.
Thirty-six people work there, trying to save it from a miserable and crushing demise.
At least that is what one is lead to believe.
The truth be told, it is, in all honesty the cover for an amazingly secret branch of The United States Government called The Department. Less than half of the men and women who make their living there have the slightest clue that this is the case, the cover story being that much of a secret. It is a secret so sacred and strange that most of what you have just read is a lie. I'm sorry about that but, seeing as to how I fear for my life you're just going to have to put up with it. Please forgive me. I have no other choice.
***
Dolly Lamma, the receptionist at Toxic Media was one of the few people who knew of The Department's existence. In addition to the many secretarial duties she dealt with on a daily basis she covertly monitored incoming e-mail from agents in the field. These e-mails were always written in a coded language, a language that she had no understanding of. All she knew was that when an e-mail came in from a name on a list that she had committed to memory she was to inform one of her superiors. It was a simple job and it paid well.
Thirty-six people work there, trying to save it from a miserable and crushing demise.
At least that is what one is lead to believe.
The truth be told, it is, in all honesty the cover for an amazingly secret branch of The United States Government called The Department. Less than half of the men and women who make their living there have the slightest clue that this is the case, the cover story being that much of a secret. It is a secret so sacred and strange that most of what you have just read is a lie. I'm sorry about that but, seeing as to how I fear for my life you're just going to have to put up with it. Please forgive me. I have no other choice.
***
Dolly Lamma, the receptionist at Toxic Media was one of the few people who knew of The Department's existence. In addition to the many secretarial duties she dealt with on a daily basis she covertly monitored incoming e-mail from agents in the field. These e-mails were always written in a coded language, a language that she had no understanding of. All she knew was that when an e-mail came in from a name on a list that she had committed to memory she was to inform one of her superiors. It was a simple job and it paid well.