The Not So Reluctant Assassin
A/N: Andy does leave Miranda in Paris but within minutes is approached by a mysterious stranger with a job offer. She takes his card and goes back to NYC. After a disappointing stint at the Mirror she decides to take a closer look at the job and her future and Miranda’s change forever.
Disclaimer: Miranda and Andy do not belong to me and no one is making any money from this.
Pairings: Miranda/Andy; Others maybe but who knows? .
Ratings: Not sure yet. PG for now.
Tags: Mirandy; Romance; Suspense; Violence; Deaths (no major characters)
Total word count: 68,625; Prologue, 35 Chapters, Epilogue
Prologue
“I don’t want to sound impatient but, I thought you were supposed to be the best in this damn business - EVER - and yet here we are, trapped in some God forsaken warehouse in the middle of Albania with guys trying to kill us, Nigel is missing and all you can say is ‘Give me a minute.’ Shouldn’t we be working on a plan for escaping or getting rid of them? This can’t be the first time you’ve been in situation like this. I did not go through two years of hell in order to find you again to end up dying. Miranda are you listening to me? Miranda? Oh God, you’re bleeding!” Andy looked on in shock as Miranda removed her hand from her side and saw it was covered in blood. I. HATE. JONATHAN MARKS.
Chapter 1
“Don’t be silly, Andrea. Everyone wants to be us.”
What us. There is only you. I can’t do this anymore.
And with that thought Andy Sachs exited the vehicle, watched her boss climb the stairs into the hotel and turned and walked away.
You self-righteous, self-centered bitch. He has been your most trusted advisor and friend for what? 20 years and you don’t even have the decency to warn him. Well lady, I’m done.
The sound of her phone ringing brought Andy out of her internal tirade and without thought she glanced at the screen.
MIRANDA
I don’t think so.
The phone sank to the bottom of the fountain she found herself standing next to.
I need a drink, and then a plan because I can kiss journalism good-bye.
She spotted a lovely little café across the street and spied one open table. She made a B-line straight for it and once seated breathed a sigh of relief.
She was about to call the waiter over when she felt a presence standing to her left.
“If you think for one…. Uh, I’m sorry. May I help you?
She was looking up into the face of a rather distinguished looking gentleman, graying hair around the temples with a pair of the greenest eyes she had ever seen. Her internal alarms were going off.
“May I sit?” He asked.
“Do I know you? No wait. I’m fairly sure we have never met so NO. Go away. I’m not interested in whatever it is you are selling.”
He smiled at her one of those knowing, smirky smiles very similar to the ones she had been dealing with for the last 11 months and felt her blood begin to boil.
“Actually, Andy, it is I who can help you. I promise if you give me five minutes of your time you won’t regret it. If after those five minutes, you still wish for me to leave, I will and you will never be bothered by me again. I will even buy you whatever you were going to order. Now what could be fairer than that?”
“Ok, I’ll bite. You have five minutes. As for my order, I was trying to decide on coffee, wine or a bottle of scotch. Think I’ll go with the coffee for starters.”
“Wise decision on both counts.”
There order was placed and once it was delivered, with not a single word spoken during the wait, Andy looked at her watch and said, “Ok, clocks ticking. Go.”
“You are correct, Andy, we have never actually met. I do, however, know all about you. For starters, up until 10 minutes ago you were the finest assistant Miranda Priestly had ever had. I know this because I’ve known most of her previous assistants. Your track record in that position speaks for itself, especially when one adds in your ability to obtain the yet unpublished transcript for that Harry Potter manuscript. A chore you were given because you witnessed a bit of domestic drama at your employer’s home the first night you were allowed to deliver the all-important book and dry cleaning. How am I doing so far?”
Andy never broke eye contact with the man sitting across from her but she was carefully scanning the people around them hoping to see and then call out to anyone who could help her with her newly found stalker. Shit! Better play along until I can figure out what to do or see a cop. How do you call for help in French?
“Go on.”
“You were born in a suburb of Cincinnati to Richard and Helen Sachs. You went to Blaine Elementary where you won the state spelling bee three years in a row, beating out students much older than you. You then attended Winborn High School and were elected President of the Sophomore, Junior and Senior Classes. You attended Northwestern University on a full scholarship, where you majored in both Pre-Law and Journalism and excelled at both. This proven by your selection as the editor of the college paper and your acceptance to Stanford Law. While at Northwestern you played soccer and were captain of the team and you were nearly picked up for the US Olympic teams in both archery and shooting.
You chose to forgo Law School to pursue Journalism and moved to NYC with your boyfriend and supposed fiancé. You sent out exactly 23 applications before you received the call from Elias-Clarke, supposedly to interview for a position with Auto Universe.”
Supposedly? What the hell does that mean?
“You possess not only one of the keenest intellects I have seen in quite some time but you are quick on your feet. With the exceptions of your first week or so as Miranda’s assistant and last night’s unfortunate encounter with Mr. Thompson (at this Andy’s eyes widen the size of Texas), you have shown great insight and you have managed to rise to each and every challenge the woman has thrown at you and you have excelled. You are meticulous in your planning and you are always aware of everything going on. You also multi-task quite well, as demonstrated by you apparently listening to every single word I’ve said while simultaneously scanning the crowd for someone to come help you with what you have assumed to be a stalker. You remind me of another one of our employees, one of our very best actually. I believe I have 60 seconds left.”
Andy glanced at her watch and nodded.
“I’m here to make you an offer, one that will change your life - forever. And no I am not talking about that type of an offer” he said as he watched her eyebrows climb right off her forehead.
“I’m talking about a job offer. A legitimate offer to assist your government with some rather delicate matters. Matters that require someone with your unique set of skills as well as your proven abilities in the areas of athletics and marksmanship. I am unable to say more at this time. This is not the appropriate venue for a more detailed explanation. Here is my card. The address, as you will see, is located in McLean, VA. Here is a first class ticket back to New York. Take it and go home. See what is available for you there and think about what I’ve said. I can promise you that what I can offer will be immensely more challenging and profitable than working as some junior reporter that is if she doesn’t black list you before you even get on the plane.”
With that he got up, placed a €20 Euro bill on the table, turned and walked away.
Andy stared at his back for a full minute and watched him disappear into the crowd.
It was as if he had never been there.
She looked down on the card and read the name: Jonathan Marks
She’d Google the address later.
She finished her coffee. The waiter was going to love his tip.
That has to be the strangest conversation I have ever had - and considering who I worked for these last 11 months, that is certainly saying something. Well at least I got a cup of coffee and a first class ride home. Not bad for an unemployed, ‘no idea what the hell she’s going to do’, woman.
Three hours later she was boarding a plane bound for New York and she had no idea to do when she got there. As the plane took off, she decided on the most sensible plan of action she could come up with:
Chapter 2
It turned out that Miranda didn’t black list her but did in fact give her a rather backhanded reference. Nate was in fact gone and the whole long distance reference thing was dismissed the moment he brought it up. She did in fact have a job, yes as a junior reporter and for the time being the strange conversation in the Paris café was forgotten. Well almost forgotten. The card he had given her was placed on her refrigerator and she glanced at it every time she opened and closed the door.
She’d only talked to Emily once and only seen Miranda that one time as she was exiting the E-C building. Time put some perspective on the whole Irv/Jacqueline/Christian/Nigel debacle and gave her a bit more perspective. Perhaps Miranda had felt she was backed into a corner with no way out but destroying Nigel but would it have killed her to explain that to him before she drove the knife in his back. No it wouldn’t have. She decided she wasn’t sorry she had quit but she was sorry about how. She kept meaning to drop a note or send flowers or you know what forget it. She would just tear it up or throw them in the trash.
Six weeks after starting at the Mirror she found herself for the tenth night in a row, sitting at her desk, at 10:30 PM, alone waiting on some trivial piece of copy she had been tasked to edit on top of writing her own not-so-exciting stories about trash collection or dog shows or something else that nobody cared about and weren’t the types of stories she envisioned writing back in college. As she stared at the shopping website on her screen, one with clothes she couldn’t afford on her new, lower, salary she found herself switching to Google and looking up the address she now knew by heart.
The address turned out to be a rather impressive looking office building in the Tysons Corner area of McLean, VA. Investment firms, some government offices, a Mortgage Company and several other equally reputable firms were listed on the building directory.
She was bored, broke, discouraged and found she missed, NO! Not Miranda, at least the challenge that was Miranda. She needed a new job and how pathetic was that after only six weeks. The card that had become her daily reading matter had no phone number on it. She wasn’t even sure how to contact this Marks guy if she did in fact show up there. What, go into the lobby and hope for a receptionist who doesn’t think I’m crazy when I say I’m looking for the guy who gave me his card at some café in Paris? Yeah. Hello, here come the security guards.
But she knew she had to do something and now she knew the Mirror wasn’t it. Her mind was finally made up the following weekend when a big bribery scandal broke and the editor called everyone in. Finally she had thought, real journalism. She ferried coffee back and forth between other reporters’ cubicles and Starbucks for 10 hours.
Two Weeks Later
Andy had gone back and forth and finally her journalist’s mind and her bank account couldn’t stand it any longer. Her great intellect had also kicked in and she realized all she had to do was make a plane reservation and Marks would know. He knew about Harry Potter and he knew about the whole Stephen/Miranda townhouse scene and worse he knew about Christian Thompson less than 12 hours after it had happened. He’d probably send a car to the airport to greet her. So she made up some excuse about having to go home for a few days and booked a flight to Washington D.C.
There was no car waiting for her but when she walked into the lobby of the rather impressive looking office building on International Drive in Tysons Corner, VA and gave her name at the desk asking to see Mr. Marks, the receptionist smiled and handed her a badge. Knew it. And this is getting to be either really, really creepy or really, really cool OR both.
She was told to go to Suite 401. She was expected. The door on Suite 401 was so very informative:
Suite 401
That was it. Well it was on a nice gold plated face plate but nothing else.
When she went to knock she heard a click and the door opened slightly. She pushed it wider, all the while listening to the little voice SCREAMING AT HER to turn around and get the hell out of here.
Just as she was about to do just that, she heard his voice call out to her: “Now Andy, you’ve come all this way. Are you really going to just turn around and not satisfy that curiosity of yours?”
“Well we all know what curiosity did for the cat, so yep I was thinking that getting out of here and going back to being the coffee girl was a smart option.”
“How about we make another deal?” By this time Jonathan Marks had appeared in the doorway, of the only office in the suite, across from the entry. Andy was still standing in the door calculating how far the stairs were and how fast she could make it down to the main lobby and out to the street.
“I suspect in those shoes it will take you about 5 minutes to get back to the street.” This said with that same all too familiar smirk.
She was hooked. She had to know.
“OK, but same deal. Coffee, in a nice public place.”
“I can only partially agree to that, Andy. Some of what I shall need to explain can only be done in private. I can relay some of our offer to you in your coffee shop but the rest, should you agree to hear it, must be in private. There can be no exceptions.”
It took Andy all of 30 seconds to agree.
15 minutes later they were seated in a relatively empty local coffee shop, not Starbucks, with two surprisingly good cappuccinos.
“OK, I’m here, you’re here. Start talking.”
“Direct and to the point. One of the many things I like about you. As I intimated back in Paris, I am affiliated with an agency of the US government. And no, not the one located near here but one of a similar nature. We are not quite as well known. Our specific mission is, how shall I put this, very, very, covert. What we are proposing is to enter you into a series of training phases lasting a total of two years. During that time you shall be paid extremely well in comparison to both Runway and the Mirror and, because all of your needs will be provided, your salary will basically be yours to bank. Each phase lasts six months. At the end of each, should you 1) pass successfully and 2) agree to go forward you will begin the next phase of training. Once all four phases have been completed you will then be ready for actual field operations. At any time during the next two years you may resign and there will be no questions asked. However, once you enter actual employ, resignation is no longer an option. Ever.”
Andy listened but actually kept checking to make sure she wasn’t still in her hotel room sleeping, dreaming this entire conversation up. It was straight out of some James Patterson novel for crying out loud.
“You are serious aren’t you? What exactly do you mean by field operations? And why have you been stalking me and apparently my previous boss? Who are you and what agency?”
“As to your first question, yes I am completely serious as to the others, well those and the remainder of the information I have been authorized to provide will have to wait for a more private setting. Those are the conditions. You are free to leave and I assure you if you walk away now I will never bother you again. But I suggest you think very carefully about your decision. I assure you, should you choose to go back to that little paper you work for, you will be coffee girl for quite some time. Your editor really had no choice in hiring you once Miranda sent that recommendation. It practically sealed your fate. Not hiring you meant he was going against her suggestion. He doesn’t really need or want you. She knows that. She’s counting on that. So he has given you a position for which you are obviously over qualified and will keep you there until you throw in the towel. A failure. A Quitter, once again. Game, Set, Match - Miranda.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying that recommendation was designed to ensure I was hired not so I could actually do journalism but so I would be trapped in a job that was completely unfulfilling in the hopes I would eventually pack it all in and go home tail tucked between my legs? No one, not even the Devil Herself could be that manipulative, that diabolic, that mean. I mean really, what kind of a mind does one have that would even contemplate that kind of pay back all because I, what left you without an assistant in Paris where you are surrounded by at least five other members of your team all ready, willing, and able to whatever you want? I just can’t believe she would be that mean. To try and destroy my future out of petty revenge.”
Marks just looked at her. No smirk. No raised eye brows questioning her logic train. He just looked at her.
Andy thought back over her question and the subject of her question and then her eyes widened briefly before they returned to normal, and hardened.
“I’m in. When do we start?”
Chapter 3
Andy and Marks returned to his office. She was still wary but once she had wrapped her little head around the fact that Miranda had basically set her up to fail, she decided it was time to take her life back. She’d let that manipulative bitch run her ragged for 11 months then when escape was within her grasp she had maneuvered her into a trap. Well she was truly done with other people manipulating her life. It didn’t escape her that Marks was and had been doing just that for quite some time now but she decided to pass on those thoughts.
Seated in his rather barren but well-appointed office Marks began to fully brief Andy on the offer.
“The final nature of your employment will remain undisclosed until we have determined you are ready to discuss it. The training, however, I am at liberty to outline. As I said, we have four phases but I don’t mean to imply that once a phase is finished you begin the next maintaining proficiency in all previous phases. The truth is they build on each other until you have, by the end of two years, incorporated all aspects of the training into your total persona.
Phase One I believe will be the easiest for you. It is basic martial arts, physical conditioning training and weapons training.
Phase Two will focus on language training as well as customs and the mores of various cultural groups. You will also begin to study the various political situations that exist around the world and the implications behind various strategies and stances taken by the associated governments. Maintaining proficiency of phase one is understood.
Phase Three will focus on learning surveillance and tracking techniques. Phases 1 and 2 maintained.
Phase Four will be perhaps the hardest. You will be trained to resist breaking no matter what may be done to you or those you love.”
Then he just stared at her. He let the words sink in. A cold shiver ran up her spine. This was the real deal. She had somehow attracted the attention of some type of spook agency and was being recruited to what - save the world? But she could tell by the look in his eye that he was dead - okay let’s not think that word - earnest about the entire matter.
“You want me to be a spy? Who in the hell are you guys? If not that little agency just up the road then who? And why me? And come to think of it, what has Miranda fucking Priestly got to do with any of this? And what did you mean back in Paris when you said I was called to Elias-Clarke to apparently apply to Auto Universe? And what do you mean do something to my loved ones? Who’s going to do something to my loved ones? You know what, just forget it. I’m sorry to have taken up your time. I don’t think I’m you’re girl.”
She got up and turned to leave. She was almost to the door when Marks quietly said, “I really am sorry to hear that. After all, none of the training you would go through can compare with the entrance exam you already passed.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Entrance exam. What the hell does that mean……..
She turned back around and stalked up to his desk. Leaned over it and looked him squarely in the eye.
“Are you telling me you manipulated me into working for that She-Devil on purpose? That the last 11 months was a little test? To see what? Did I have enough self-control to not strangle that silver haired bitch? Oh come on? Be serious. How could you even know she would hire me? Wait was she in on it? Did she know what you were doing?”
Marks laughed. “Seriously Andy, do you think anyone could manipulate Miranda Priestly into doing anything? NO, we have simply identified a number of individuals with similar styles and then attempted to steer likely candidates their way. We in fact have two other such individuals also located in New York who have worked out splendidly in helping us screen potential candidates and one rather impressive person in London. I’m sure if you thought upon it for a moment you would come up with all three names. Here’s a hint: two are women. We have identified other such persons around the world and follow much the same routine we followed with you. They of course are splendidly unaware of how we are using them and thus the process is quite reliable. No favoritism or attempts to sabotage someone they become fond of.
As to how we select the candidates, sometime during the high school years our watchers will identify potential recruits. We then observe and see how they progress over the next few years. If they continue to show promise then we arrange for them to meet one of these ‘screeners’. Half the time they are dismissed and so they are forgotten. The remaining half rarely makes it past the first three months. Those that do are then closely monitored and if they make it to 9 months they are considered ready to approach with this offer. And no, not every assistant sent to Miranda was considered a potential employee. That Charelton girl was not nor could she ever be a serious employee of ours. She might at some time actually be required to go without make-up and eat real food. Can you imagine her reaction?”
At this Andy laughed. Thankfully Marks had inserted that bit of humor at the right time. It gave her a chance to stop and think. She stood still for a moment then looked back and found her seat and sat back down.
“Ok, maybe I won’t leave quite yet. But I mean seriously, this job could result in someone hurting the people I love. Who in their right mind would sign up for that? Don’t get me wrong, the rest of it, well maybe not Phase four, but the rest sounds down right awesome and I believe I would do well. But I don’t know. The implications of danger to my family and well to be honest, I’ve never been too fond of pain, make it somewhat difficult to consider seriously.”
“As I said, no decision need be made about anything other than the phase you are about to enter. Believe me just as with the entrance exam phase, nearly half of our recruits are gone before we ever get to Phase three much less four. By then you will have learned a great deal more about yourself and this world we live in. Those lessons may change your mind.”
“So let me get this straight. I agree and spend the next six months in a ‘boot camp on steroids’ like situation and then if I decide to walk away I will have been paid big bucks to get buff. How much is big bucks anyway?”
Marks pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote a number on it. He handed it to Andy. It was what she made at the Mirror in one year.
“Well that’s not bad for six months work considering no bills.”
“You misunderstand Andy, that’s for 1 month's work. Your total salary for 6 months would be that number times 6 - after taxes and such of course.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s more than I would make at the Mirror for the next 6 years. And after that? I’d make the same for each phase until I graduate, wash out or quit? “
“Actually if you make it to Phase three there is a 50% bump up.”
Andy quickly did the math. So intense exercise and playing with weapons, then socio-economics, world politics and language training. 12 months, 12 years’ worth of Mirror equivalent pay and then I can jettison. Or stick around and pick up another 9 years pay for learning how to track and do surveillance. All skills I could easily sell for a hell of lot more than I get now and no one gets hurt. That’s a total of 21 years pay for 18 months work and then I’m set to go do what I really want to do. Write.
“Just one thing. I never ever want to have to do anything ever again with Miranda Priestly. You agree to that and I’m in - at least til we get to that torture phase.”
“Andy I can assure you, you will never have to deal with Miranda or Runway or anything closely associated with world of fashion ever again. It just so happens I have the Phase One contract right here.
Sign it and then you can go back to New York, pack up what you want to take with you, get rid of the rest or we can store it for you. You will report in 1 week to a location in Southern California. That will be your home for the next 6 months. All of your travel documents and tickets are in this envelope. You and I won’t chat again until you have completed Phase 1. I think you have made a wise decision. After all, what better way to finance your writing career than a little stint with some spooky agency? Right?”
How the hell does he do that and how the hell did he know I would say yes? Doesn’t matter.
“Ok one last question. What if anything can I tell my folks. I mean if I leave New York and go to California they will want to know why.”
“Congratulations Andy, you have just been hired by a magazine called Women’s World. The main focus of the magazine is to highlight the various non-traditional occupations some women have chosen. Your first assignment is to write a story on a camp designed to teach women how to work in career fields dealing with security and protection services for the wealthy. Turns out it’s a 6 month assignment away from New York, all expenses paid. Magazine is storing your belongings so you can release your apartment. No telling where your next assignment will be so no sense in keeping it.
Does that sound like a reasonable cover story? You can tell them the pay is great and you will finally be doing what you have always wanted to do and getting into the best shape of your life.”
“Thought of everything didn’t you? OK I’ll sign.”
She did, took her copy, picked up her travel envelope and headed out the door back to the airport.
What have I just gotten myself in to? Oh well. Too late now. Better call the folks when I get back and break the ‘good’ news. Little Andy is going to be a real live spy, err journalist.
Back up in his office Marks looked at his watch and waited. Right on time his private secure cell phone rang.
“Did she say yes?”
Damn it, I had hoped I was wrong but I’ve had this feeling since Paris. SHE KNEW.
“Of whom do you speak dear Miranda?”
“Cut the bull shit Jonathan. We go back to far for you to try and avoid my questions. Did Andrea Sachs sign the damn agreement? Is she joining the firm?”
“How, Miranda? How did you know? I was quite careful every step of the way.”
“Oh dearest Jonathan, I have known for quite some time what you have been up too. 10 years in fact. You do remember I have access to all our trainees’ reports not just the ones assigned to me for review. But I let it slide and attempted to allow your little entrance exams to proceed with minimal interference on my part. I do believe in each case the outcome was acceptable, was it not?”
“Yes Miranda it was. Of those that actually have survived we have managed to retain three. And they are quite accomplished agents, but then you already know that do you not? Don’t bother to answer. Thank you for your non-interference.”
I should have known she was aware. She was never one to follow the rules.
“But this time you did interfere and I want to know why?”
“As I told that silly girl, from the moment I met her I saw something of myself in her. I truly believe, and I never thought I would say this, but she might very well prove to be as good if not better than I was in this business. She has the potential to be one of our finest if she can just get past herself and let her true talents and nature come to the surface. Journalism indeed! What a waste. I suppose you gave her a nudge where that rag of a paper was concerned?”
“I did. I was truly surprised when you sent that recommendation, particularly since I knew something about that editor and the likely hood of him hiring Andy being slim to none. Given his past reputation, that is, and that mess he had with the last female he hired. He barely escaped divorce that time. Your note, however, left him no choice. Hire her or be seen as a fool by everyone in his field. Solution was simple. Hire her and drive her nuts with terrible assignments and fetching coffee. Brilliantly played my dear. Simply Brilliant. By the time she came to us she was ready to jump ship and the little reality check she received about you and your supposed recommendation did it.”
“Excellent. One last thing then we shall never speak of Andrea Sachs again. I know that I rarely dabble in our field work these days, but should that need ever arise again in the future, banish all thoughts of she and I ever working together again from your mind. I want to never see her again. Is that understood?”
“Crystal clear.”
“Good. That’s All.”
As the line went dead Jonathan Marks leaned back in his chair and pondered the conversation with Miranda. It wasn’t so much what she had said but the fervor behind her words.
How interesting. After all these years I do believe our Dragon has met her match and might be afraid of being out shown. No. No that is not her style. Not wanting to be shown up in the field by a younger agent might be true of some but not Miranda. There is more going on here than I believe any of us would have ever guessed. In fact, both of them were vehement about never seeing the other again. Could it be that fine line has finely caught up with you dear Miranda and perhaps been crossed? Well, Well. Too bad none of us will ever find out.
TBC
Disclaimer: Miranda and Andy do not belong to me and no one is making any money from this.
Pairings: Miranda/Andy; Others maybe but who knows? .
Ratings: Not sure yet. PG for now.
Tags: Mirandy; Romance; Suspense; Violence; Deaths (no major characters)
Total word count: 68,625; Prologue, 35 Chapters, Epilogue
Prologue
“I don’t want to sound impatient but, I thought you were supposed to be the best in this damn business - EVER - and yet here we are, trapped in some God forsaken warehouse in the middle of Albania with guys trying to kill us, Nigel is missing and all you can say is ‘Give me a minute.’ Shouldn’t we be working on a plan for escaping or getting rid of them? This can’t be the first time you’ve been in situation like this. I did not go through two years of hell in order to find you again to end up dying. Miranda are you listening to me? Miranda? Oh God, you’re bleeding!” Andy looked on in shock as Miranda removed her hand from her side and saw it was covered in blood. I. HATE. JONATHAN MARKS.
Chapter 1
“Don’t be silly, Andrea. Everyone wants to be us.”
What us. There is only you. I can’t do this anymore.
And with that thought Andy Sachs exited the vehicle, watched her boss climb the stairs into the hotel and turned and walked away.
You self-righteous, self-centered bitch. He has been your most trusted advisor and friend for what? 20 years and you don’t even have the decency to warn him. Well lady, I’m done.
The sound of her phone ringing brought Andy out of her internal tirade and without thought she glanced at the screen.
MIRANDA
I don’t think so.
The phone sank to the bottom of the fountain she found herself standing next to.
I need a drink, and then a plan because I can kiss journalism good-bye.
She spotted a lovely little café across the street and spied one open table. She made a B-line straight for it and once seated breathed a sigh of relief.
She was about to call the waiter over when she felt a presence standing to her left.
“If you think for one…. Uh, I’m sorry. May I help you?
She was looking up into the face of a rather distinguished looking gentleman, graying hair around the temples with a pair of the greenest eyes she had ever seen. Her internal alarms were going off.
“May I sit?” He asked.
“Do I know you? No wait. I’m fairly sure we have never met so NO. Go away. I’m not interested in whatever it is you are selling.”
He smiled at her one of those knowing, smirky smiles very similar to the ones she had been dealing with for the last 11 months and felt her blood begin to boil.
“Actually, Andy, it is I who can help you. I promise if you give me five minutes of your time you won’t regret it. If after those five minutes, you still wish for me to leave, I will and you will never be bothered by me again. I will even buy you whatever you were going to order. Now what could be fairer than that?”
“Ok, I’ll bite. You have five minutes. As for my order, I was trying to decide on coffee, wine or a bottle of scotch. Think I’ll go with the coffee for starters.”
“Wise decision on both counts.”
There order was placed and once it was delivered, with not a single word spoken during the wait, Andy looked at her watch and said, “Ok, clocks ticking. Go.”
“You are correct, Andy, we have never actually met. I do, however, know all about you. For starters, up until 10 minutes ago you were the finest assistant Miranda Priestly had ever had. I know this because I’ve known most of her previous assistants. Your track record in that position speaks for itself, especially when one adds in your ability to obtain the yet unpublished transcript for that Harry Potter manuscript. A chore you were given because you witnessed a bit of domestic drama at your employer’s home the first night you were allowed to deliver the all-important book and dry cleaning. How am I doing so far?”
Andy never broke eye contact with the man sitting across from her but she was carefully scanning the people around them hoping to see and then call out to anyone who could help her with her newly found stalker. Shit! Better play along until I can figure out what to do or see a cop. How do you call for help in French?
“Go on.”
“You were born in a suburb of Cincinnati to Richard and Helen Sachs. You went to Blaine Elementary where you won the state spelling bee three years in a row, beating out students much older than you. You then attended Winborn High School and were elected President of the Sophomore, Junior and Senior Classes. You attended Northwestern University on a full scholarship, where you majored in both Pre-Law and Journalism and excelled at both. This proven by your selection as the editor of the college paper and your acceptance to Stanford Law. While at Northwestern you played soccer and were captain of the team and you were nearly picked up for the US Olympic teams in both archery and shooting.
You chose to forgo Law School to pursue Journalism and moved to NYC with your boyfriend and supposed fiancé. You sent out exactly 23 applications before you received the call from Elias-Clarke, supposedly to interview for a position with Auto Universe.”
Supposedly? What the hell does that mean?
“You possess not only one of the keenest intellects I have seen in quite some time but you are quick on your feet. With the exceptions of your first week or so as Miranda’s assistant and last night’s unfortunate encounter with Mr. Thompson (at this Andy’s eyes widen the size of Texas), you have shown great insight and you have managed to rise to each and every challenge the woman has thrown at you and you have excelled. You are meticulous in your planning and you are always aware of everything going on. You also multi-task quite well, as demonstrated by you apparently listening to every single word I’ve said while simultaneously scanning the crowd for someone to come help you with what you have assumed to be a stalker. You remind me of another one of our employees, one of our very best actually. I believe I have 60 seconds left.”
Andy glanced at her watch and nodded.
“I’m here to make you an offer, one that will change your life - forever. And no I am not talking about that type of an offer” he said as he watched her eyebrows climb right off her forehead.
“I’m talking about a job offer. A legitimate offer to assist your government with some rather delicate matters. Matters that require someone with your unique set of skills as well as your proven abilities in the areas of athletics and marksmanship. I am unable to say more at this time. This is not the appropriate venue for a more detailed explanation. Here is my card. The address, as you will see, is located in McLean, VA. Here is a first class ticket back to New York. Take it and go home. See what is available for you there and think about what I’ve said. I can promise you that what I can offer will be immensely more challenging and profitable than working as some junior reporter that is if she doesn’t black list you before you even get on the plane.”
With that he got up, placed a €20 Euro bill on the table, turned and walked away.
Andy stared at his back for a full minute and watched him disappear into the crowd.
It was as if he had never been there.
She looked down on the card and read the name: Jonathan Marks
She’d Google the address later.
She finished her coffee. The waiter was going to love his tip.
That has to be the strangest conversation I have ever had - and considering who I worked for these last 11 months, that is certainly saying something. Well at least I got a cup of coffee and a first class ride home. Not bad for an unemployed, ‘no idea what the hell she’s going to do’, woman.
Three hours later she was boarding a plane bound for New York and she had no idea to do when she got there. As the plane took off, she decided on the most sensible plan of action she could come up with:
- Go Home
- See if she still had a boyfriend - not that she really cared all that much she realized
- See if Miranda had indeed black listed her
- If yes, think about Law School
- If no, see if she could find a job
- And while doing all of this try not to think about the fact that she knew in her heart of hearts she would be paying a visit to Virginia at some time in the future, just because it was all to enticing not to.
- Wait and see.
Chapter 2
It turned out that Miranda didn’t black list her but did in fact give her a rather backhanded reference. Nate was in fact gone and the whole long distance reference thing was dismissed the moment he brought it up. She did in fact have a job, yes as a junior reporter and for the time being the strange conversation in the Paris café was forgotten. Well almost forgotten. The card he had given her was placed on her refrigerator and she glanced at it every time she opened and closed the door.
She’d only talked to Emily once and only seen Miranda that one time as she was exiting the E-C building. Time put some perspective on the whole Irv/Jacqueline/Christian/Nigel debacle and gave her a bit more perspective. Perhaps Miranda had felt she was backed into a corner with no way out but destroying Nigel but would it have killed her to explain that to him before she drove the knife in his back. No it wouldn’t have. She decided she wasn’t sorry she had quit but she was sorry about how. She kept meaning to drop a note or send flowers or you know what forget it. She would just tear it up or throw them in the trash.
Six weeks after starting at the Mirror she found herself for the tenth night in a row, sitting at her desk, at 10:30 PM, alone waiting on some trivial piece of copy she had been tasked to edit on top of writing her own not-so-exciting stories about trash collection or dog shows or something else that nobody cared about and weren’t the types of stories she envisioned writing back in college. As she stared at the shopping website on her screen, one with clothes she couldn’t afford on her new, lower, salary she found herself switching to Google and looking up the address she now knew by heart.
The address turned out to be a rather impressive looking office building in the Tysons Corner area of McLean, VA. Investment firms, some government offices, a Mortgage Company and several other equally reputable firms were listed on the building directory.
She was bored, broke, discouraged and found she missed, NO! Not Miranda, at least the challenge that was Miranda. She needed a new job and how pathetic was that after only six weeks. The card that had become her daily reading matter had no phone number on it. She wasn’t even sure how to contact this Marks guy if she did in fact show up there. What, go into the lobby and hope for a receptionist who doesn’t think I’m crazy when I say I’m looking for the guy who gave me his card at some café in Paris? Yeah. Hello, here come the security guards.
But she knew she had to do something and now she knew the Mirror wasn’t it. Her mind was finally made up the following weekend when a big bribery scandal broke and the editor called everyone in. Finally she had thought, real journalism. She ferried coffee back and forth between other reporters’ cubicles and Starbucks for 10 hours.
Two Weeks Later
Andy had gone back and forth and finally her journalist’s mind and her bank account couldn’t stand it any longer. Her great intellect had also kicked in and she realized all she had to do was make a plane reservation and Marks would know. He knew about Harry Potter and he knew about the whole Stephen/Miranda townhouse scene and worse he knew about Christian Thompson less than 12 hours after it had happened. He’d probably send a car to the airport to greet her. So she made up some excuse about having to go home for a few days and booked a flight to Washington D.C.
There was no car waiting for her but when she walked into the lobby of the rather impressive looking office building on International Drive in Tysons Corner, VA and gave her name at the desk asking to see Mr. Marks, the receptionist smiled and handed her a badge. Knew it. And this is getting to be either really, really creepy or really, really cool OR both.
She was told to go to Suite 401. She was expected. The door on Suite 401 was so very informative:
Suite 401
That was it. Well it was on a nice gold plated face plate but nothing else.
When she went to knock she heard a click and the door opened slightly. She pushed it wider, all the while listening to the little voice SCREAMING AT HER to turn around and get the hell out of here.
Just as she was about to do just that, she heard his voice call out to her: “Now Andy, you’ve come all this way. Are you really going to just turn around and not satisfy that curiosity of yours?”
“Well we all know what curiosity did for the cat, so yep I was thinking that getting out of here and going back to being the coffee girl was a smart option.”
“How about we make another deal?” By this time Jonathan Marks had appeared in the doorway, of the only office in the suite, across from the entry. Andy was still standing in the door calculating how far the stairs were and how fast she could make it down to the main lobby and out to the street.
“I suspect in those shoes it will take you about 5 minutes to get back to the street.” This said with that same all too familiar smirk.
She was hooked. She had to know.
“OK, but same deal. Coffee, in a nice public place.”
“I can only partially agree to that, Andy. Some of what I shall need to explain can only be done in private. I can relay some of our offer to you in your coffee shop but the rest, should you agree to hear it, must be in private. There can be no exceptions.”
It took Andy all of 30 seconds to agree.
15 minutes later they were seated in a relatively empty local coffee shop, not Starbucks, with two surprisingly good cappuccinos.
“OK, I’m here, you’re here. Start talking.”
“Direct and to the point. One of the many things I like about you. As I intimated back in Paris, I am affiliated with an agency of the US government. And no, not the one located near here but one of a similar nature. We are not quite as well known. Our specific mission is, how shall I put this, very, very, covert. What we are proposing is to enter you into a series of training phases lasting a total of two years. During that time you shall be paid extremely well in comparison to both Runway and the Mirror and, because all of your needs will be provided, your salary will basically be yours to bank. Each phase lasts six months. At the end of each, should you 1) pass successfully and 2) agree to go forward you will begin the next phase of training. Once all four phases have been completed you will then be ready for actual field operations. At any time during the next two years you may resign and there will be no questions asked. However, once you enter actual employ, resignation is no longer an option. Ever.”
Andy listened but actually kept checking to make sure she wasn’t still in her hotel room sleeping, dreaming this entire conversation up. It was straight out of some James Patterson novel for crying out loud.
“You are serious aren’t you? What exactly do you mean by field operations? And why have you been stalking me and apparently my previous boss? Who are you and what agency?”
“As to your first question, yes I am completely serious as to the others, well those and the remainder of the information I have been authorized to provide will have to wait for a more private setting. Those are the conditions. You are free to leave and I assure you if you walk away now I will never bother you again. But I suggest you think very carefully about your decision. I assure you, should you choose to go back to that little paper you work for, you will be coffee girl for quite some time. Your editor really had no choice in hiring you once Miranda sent that recommendation. It practically sealed your fate. Not hiring you meant he was going against her suggestion. He doesn’t really need or want you. She knows that. She’s counting on that. So he has given you a position for which you are obviously over qualified and will keep you there until you throw in the towel. A failure. A Quitter, once again. Game, Set, Match - Miranda.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying that recommendation was designed to ensure I was hired not so I could actually do journalism but so I would be trapped in a job that was completely unfulfilling in the hopes I would eventually pack it all in and go home tail tucked between my legs? No one, not even the Devil Herself could be that manipulative, that diabolic, that mean. I mean really, what kind of a mind does one have that would even contemplate that kind of pay back all because I, what left you without an assistant in Paris where you are surrounded by at least five other members of your team all ready, willing, and able to whatever you want? I just can’t believe she would be that mean. To try and destroy my future out of petty revenge.”
Marks just looked at her. No smirk. No raised eye brows questioning her logic train. He just looked at her.
Andy thought back over her question and the subject of her question and then her eyes widened briefly before they returned to normal, and hardened.
“I’m in. When do we start?”
Chapter 3
Andy and Marks returned to his office. She was still wary but once she had wrapped her little head around the fact that Miranda had basically set her up to fail, she decided it was time to take her life back. She’d let that manipulative bitch run her ragged for 11 months then when escape was within her grasp she had maneuvered her into a trap. Well she was truly done with other people manipulating her life. It didn’t escape her that Marks was and had been doing just that for quite some time now but she decided to pass on those thoughts.
Seated in his rather barren but well-appointed office Marks began to fully brief Andy on the offer.
“The final nature of your employment will remain undisclosed until we have determined you are ready to discuss it. The training, however, I am at liberty to outline. As I said, we have four phases but I don’t mean to imply that once a phase is finished you begin the next maintaining proficiency in all previous phases. The truth is they build on each other until you have, by the end of two years, incorporated all aspects of the training into your total persona.
Phase One I believe will be the easiest for you. It is basic martial arts, physical conditioning training and weapons training.
Phase Two will focus on language training as well as customs and the mores of various cultural groups. You will also begin to study the various political situations that exist around the world and the implications behind various strategies and stances taken by the associated governments. Maintaining proficiency of phase one is understood.
Phase Three will focus on learning surveillance and tracking techniques. Phases 1 and 2 maintained.
Phase Four will be perhaps the hardest. You will be trained to resist breaking no matter what may be done to you or those you love.”
Then he just stared at her. He let the words sink in. A cold shiver ran up her spine. This was the real deal. She had somehow attracted the attention of some type of spook agency and was being recruited to what - save the world? But she could tell by the look in his eye that he was dead - okay let’s not think that word - earnest about the entire matter.
“You want me to be a spy? Who in the hell are you guys? If not that little agency just up the road then who? And why me? And come to think of it, what has Miranda fucking Priestly got to do with any of this? And what did you mean back in Paris when you said I was called to Elias-Clarke to apparently apply to Auto Universe? And what do you mean do something to my loved ones? Who’s going to do something to my loved ones? You know what, just forget it. I’m sorry to have taken up your time. I don’t think I’m you’re girl.”
She got up and turned to leave. She was almost to the door when Marks quietly said, “I really am sorry to hear that. After all, none of the training you would go through can compare with the entrance exam you already passed.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Entrance exam. What the hell does that mean……..
She turned back around and stalked up to his desk. Leaned over it and looked him squarely in the eye.
“Are you telling me you manipulated me into working for that She-Devil on purpose? That the last 11 months was a little test? To see what? Did I have enough self-control to not strangle that silver haired bitch? Oh come on? Be serious. How could you even know she would hire me? Wait was she in on it? Did she know what you were doing?”
Marks laughed. “Seriously Andy, do you think anyone could manipulate Miranda Priestly into doing anything? NO, we have simply identified a number of individuals with similar styles and then attempted to steer likely candidates their way. We in fact have two other such individuals also located in New York who have worked out splendidly in helping us screen potential candidates and one rather impressive person in London. I’m sure if you thought upon it for a moment you would come up with all three names. Here’s a hint: two are women. We have identified other such persons around the world and follow much the same routine we followed with you. They of course are splendidly unaware of how we are using them and thus the process is quite reliable. No favoritism or attempts to sabotage someone they become fond of.
As to how we select the candidates, sometime during the high school years our watchers will identify potential recruits. We then observe and see how they progress over the next few years. If they continue to show promise then we arrange for them to meet one of these ‘screeners’. Half the time they are dismissed and so they are forgotten. The remaining half rarely makes it past the first three months. Those that do are then closely monitored and if they make it to 9 months they are considered ready to approach with this offer. And no, not every assistant sent to Miranda was considered a potential employee. That Charelton girl was not nor could she ever be a serious employee of ours. She might at some time actually be required to go without make-up and eat real food. Can you imagine her reaction?”
At this Andy laughed. Thankfully Marks had inserted that bit of humor at the right time. It gave her a chance to stop and think. She stood still for a moment then looked back and found her seat and sat back down.
“Ok, maybe I won’t leave quite yet. But I mean seriously, this job could result in someone hurting the people I love. Who in their right mind would sign up for that? Don’t get me wrong, the rest of it, well maybe not Phase four, but the rest sounds down right awesome and I believe I would do well. But I don’t know. The implications of danger to my family and well to be honest, I’ve never been too fond of pain, make it somewhat difficult to consider seriously.”
“As I said, no decision need be made about anything other than the phase you are about to enter. Believe me just as with the entrance exam phase, nearly half of our recruits are gone before we ever get to Phase three much less four. By then you will have learned a great deal more about yourself and this world we live in. Those lessons may change your mind.”
“So let me get this straight. I agree and spend the next six months in a ‘boot camp on steroids’ like situation and then if I decide to walk away I will have been paid big bucks to get buff. How much is big bucks anyway?”
Marks pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote a number on it. He handed it to Andy. It was what she made at the Mirror in one year.
“Well that’s not bad for six months work considering no bills.”
“You misunderstand Andy, that’s for 1 month's work. Your total salary for 6 months would be that number times 6 - after taxes and such of course.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s more than I would make at the Mirror for the next 6 years. And after that? I’d make the same for each phase until I graduate, wash out or quit? “
“Actually if you make it to Phase three there is a 50% bump up.”
Andy quickly did the math. So intense exercise and playing with weapons, then socio-economics, world politics and language training. 12 months, 12 years’ worth of Mirror equivalent pay and then I can jettison. Or stick around and pick up another 9 years pay for learning how to track and do surveillance. All skills I could easily sell for a hell of lot more than I get now and no one gets hurt. That’s a total of 21 years pay for 18 months work and then I’m set to go do what I really want to do. Write.
“Just one thing. I never ever want to have to do anything ever again with Miranda Priestly. You agree to that and I’m in - at least til we get to that torture phase.”
“Andy I can assure you, you will never have to deal with Miranda or Runway or anything closely associated with world of fashion ever again. It just so happens I have the Phase One contract right here.
Sign it and then you can go back to New York, pack up what you want to take with you, get rid of the rest or we can store it for you. You will report in 1 week to a location in Southern California. That will be your home for the next 6 months. All of your travel documents and tickets are in this envelope. You and I won’t chat again until you have completed Phase 1. I think you have made a wise decision. After all, what better way to finance your writing career than a little stint with some spooky agency? Right?”
How the hell does he do that and how the hell did he know I would say yes? Doesn’t matter.
“Ok one last question. What if anything can I tell my folks. I mean if I leave New York and go to California they will want to know why.”
“Congratulations Andy, you have just been hired by a magazine called Women’s World. The main focus of the magazine is to highlight the various non-traditional occupations some women have chosen. Your first assignment is to write a story on a camp designed to teach women how to work in career fields dealing with security and protection services for the wealthy. Turns out it’s a 6 month assignment away from New York, all expenses paid. Magazine is storing your belongings so you can release your apartment. No telling where your next assignment will be so no sense in keeping it.
Does that sound like a reasonable cover story? You can tell them the pay is great and you will finally be doing what you have always wanted to do and getting into the best shape of your life.”
“Thought of everything didn’t you? OK I’ll sign.”
She did, took her copy, picked up her travel envelope and headed out the door back to the airport.
What have I just gotten myself in to? Oh well. Too late now. Better call the folks when I get back and break the ‘good’ news. Little Andy is going to be a real live spy, err journalist.
Back up in his office Marks looked at his watch and waited. Right on time his private secure cell phone rang.
“Did she say yes?”
Damn it, I had hoped I was wrong but I’ve had this feeling since Paris. SHE KNEW.
“Of whom do you speak dear Miranda?”
“Cut the bull shit Jonathan. We go back to far for you to try and avoid my questions. Did Andrea Sachs sign the damn agreement? Is she joining the firm?”
“How, Miranda? How did you know? I was quite careful every step of the way.”
“Oh dearest Jonathan, I have known for quite some time what you have been up too. 10 years in fact. You do remember I have access to all our trainees’ reports not just the ones assigned to me for review. But I let it slide and attempted to allow your little entrance exams to proceed with minimal interference on my part. I do believe in each case the outcome was acceptable, was it not?”
“Yes Miranda it was. Of those that actually have survived we have managed to retain three. And they are quite accomplished agents, but then you already know that do you not? Don’t bother to answer. Thank you for your non-interference.”
I should have known she was aware. She was never one to follow the rules.
“But this time you did interfere and I want to know why?”
“As I told that silly girl, from the moment I met her I saw something of myself in her. I truly believe, and I never thought I would say this, but she might very well prove to be as good if not better than I was in this business. She has the potential to be one of our finest if she can just get past herself and let her true talents and nature come to the surface. Journalism indeed! What a waste. I suppose you gave her a nudge where that rag of a paper was concerned?”
“I did. I was truly surprised when you sent that recommendation, particularly since I knew something about that editor and the likely hood of him hiring Andy being slim to none. Given his past reputation, that is, and that mess he had with the last female he hired. He barely escaped divorce that time. Your note, however, left him no choice. Hire her or be seen as a fool by everyone in his field. Solution was simple. Hire her and drive her nuts with terrible assignments and fetching coffee. Brilliantly played my dear. Simply Brilliant. By the time she came to us she was ready to jump ship and the little reality check she received about you and your supposed recommendation did it.”
“Excellent. One last thing then we shall never speak of Andrea Sachs again. I know that I rarely dabble in our field work these days, but should that need ever arise again in the future, banish all thoughts of she and I ever working together again from your mind. I want to never see her again. Is that understood?”
“Crystal clear.”
“Good. That’s All.”
As the line went dead Jonathan Marks leaned back in his chair and pondered the conversation with Miranda. It wasn’t so much what she had said but the fervor behind her words.
How interesting. After all these years I do believe our Dragon has met her match and might be afraid of being out shown. No. No that is not her style. Not wanting to be shown up in the field by a younger agent might be true of some but not Miranda. There is more going on here than I believe any of us would have ever guessed. In fact, both of them were vehement about never seeing the other again. Could it be that fine line has finely caught up with you dear Miranda and perhaps been crossed? Well, Well. Too bad none of us will ever find out.
TBC