AGENT THORNE

TREADING LIGHTLY

2005-12-04T12:20:00.000-05:00

8.17.2002

It felt like a punch in the gut. "What?"

"His wife died a couple of years ago." Will was cradling his coffee and giving me an odd look. "It was a botched assassination attempt-- she got in the way."

"I didn't know." It sounded flat. How could I not know? I was supposed to be better than that, yet there I was, a senior agent, and I didn't know Fox's wife had been murdered. No wonder the guy was stiff. No, not stiff-- focused. He concentrated entirely on his work. He left no room for distraction.

"It must have been hard." I swirled the dregs in my cup. I was never good with things like this. If something went bad on a job, you just took care of it. When it was personal, well-- it was personal. Personal meant emotional trip wire everywhere.

I suppose I'll just have to start treading lightly.

CHANGES

2005-12-04T08:03:00.000-05:00

CO-WORKERS

2005-10-23T10:10:00.000-04:00

8.14.2002

The director's brother's a great guy. I've just finished an assignment with him-- he's got to be one of the best agents out there. I mean, sure he's the director's brother, but you'd be a fool not to trust him. He's just that good. Agent Fox on the other hand, I haven't quite figured out.

He's the ranking agent around, and for a top agent, he's quite a risk taker. I admire that. But he seems distracted somehow. Maybe his wife's been giving him a hard time about his "office" work. They are known to do that.

COMMENDATION

2005-10-22T17:10:00.000-04:00

TO LIFE

2005-08-28T21:20:00.000-04:00

5.1.2002

Things certainly can change in a few years. It seems like yesterday I was recruited. Today I was officially advanced to the level of Senior Agent. The director himself held a little dinner party where he issued a formal commendation for my work last November in the Johansson affair.

So here I sit: alone, in my apartment. As strains of Chopin sweeten the air, I raise a glass to my life-- and to things finally going well.

CUTTING

2005-04-24T17:14:00.000-04:00

1.26.2000

I didn't know his kid would be there; no one else was supposed to be home. No wife, kids gone, just the target. Why did it have to go down like this? Now we've got the trouble of placement: what do you do with a kid who was hiding in the closet when...? I think his father had a cousin somewhere in Texas. Maybe she would take him in.
I never did like messy jobs.

The target had rented himself this European country house. With all the money he received in that last transaction, he probably thought he'd be living high for a while. I was a new "gardener." Just there to trim some bushes-- and a traitor. When an important asset goes rogue, the situation is never pretty. Especially an important asset who continues to sell off the information he's hoarded. All attempts to cut off his input and output had failed; what else could we have done?

I sure wish that kid hadn't been there.

NEW TERRITORY

2005-03-14T19:18:00.000-05:00

7.5.1999

I was moving some boxes when he came in to welcome me. It was the same guy who interrogated me last year; I never figured on him being the director of the CTU. The deputy director came by later to introduce himself. He was friendly enough, a bit too friendly if you ask me, but I don't know that I trust him. His eyes kept shifting everywhere, as though he were afraid someone might be watching him.

Things are different over here than back at the Agency. You're given more free reign, less questions asked, less bureaucracy. The "bad guys" are a bit more clear cut-- at least from my way of seeing things. No worrying about political entanglement or treaties; not many countries want to claim a terrorist.

I think I'm gonna like it.

MOVING ON

2005-02-24T15:42:00.000-05:00

6.1.1999

Got a notice today: I'm being transferred to another unit in the Agency. Just like that, without a word to me! They didn't even tell me what I'd doing. Special Ops was my dream, I've worked hard to get to this point, and for what? I'm a field agent, plain and simple. There's no way I'm gonna get stuck pushing papers in some state-side bureaucratic hole.

VISITOR

2005-02-15T20:52:00.000-05:00

3.10.1998

This guy came into the office today, wanted to see me. He kept looking at my desk, asking me odd questions, I'm not sure what he was after. Nora said he's someone from over at the CTU, so it couldn't have been any kind of Agency inquiry. He asked me how long I'd been with the Agency, did I like it, where I hoped to go, was I happy, the sort of thing no one in their right mind asks a stranger-- unless they have ulterior motives.

ANOTHER ROUND

2005-02-15T15:13:00.000-05:00

11.22.1997

There he is, floating in the river. Every time I dream it always comes to that: the horrific sight scarring my memory. It was dark, there couldn't be many of them; he told me to call for back up. But it was too late. What was I supposed to do-- could I have done more? Sam's body floating in the river, four bullets in his back. That's what I have to look back on. What a great way to start a career.

I go to the firing range a lot more now. It seems to release some of the frustration, the stress. I used to keep track of the rounds but I've lost count. It doesn't seem to matter anymore. My mentor, my partner, my friend- Sam's dead.

STRAP IN

2005-02-14T13:40:00.000-05:00

Here it is: my story from the inside. Striaght up, the hard cold truth- if you can take it.

My partner and I've had quite a time of it. The CTA ain't all it's cracked up to be. One day you're doing a routine analysis check, next you're gettin' shot at from five sides. But lately, things have gotten worse.

You take a breath and you're partner's wife is shot, then his brother. Terrorist threats from the inside. Your boss gets kidnapped and some incompetent nut is put in charge- or is he? Men start sending you cryptic messages out of the shadows. There is more going on here than meets the average eye.

But hey, who said I was average?

Signing off,

-THORNE