Home

Assistant Executive Director of the FBI, Michael Spates watched the trees sway in the December wind outside his
large picture window. The weather was mild and enjoyable, though he hadn’t spent much time outdoors-It had been
a rough couple of days. He thought about how he would love a fishing trip about now. Canyon Lake in Texas…breeze
blowing at his back… fishing rod in his hand…
Pleasant memories of his last trip to San Antonio replayed in his mind as he leaned back in his chair to angle a better
view of the stars in the evening sky. Michael wasn’t usually a daydreamer, but wistful thoughts of what might have
been had distracted his thoughts most of the day.

Michael had to force his attention back to his conversation with Beatrice McCoy, Federal Bureau of Investigation
Executive Director, and ranking agent. He wasn’t distracted because of disinterest, but because if he allowed his
mind to wander any more, he might just blurt out how much he wanted Bea to join him in his fantasy.

Finally, he broke the comfortable silence they shared on the phone, when he said, “That wasn’t too bad.” He hoped
he’d kept the tension out of his voice...he worked very hard to keep his feelings under control. “Chalk up another
successful case for the SCU. The budget was a little high, but if you think about it, without our set up those guys
wouldn’t have been caught, at least not without the body count climbing higher.” He paused again. “And the wedding
was nice too…so let’s see that makes four of our best agents--I wonder who’s next?” Michael heard Bea’s soft sigh
through the phone.

“Yes, I’m pleased about the case—even though, I will admit I was starting to become a little worried. Maupin and
Radford seemed to take their time about putting away the Wilkens boys. But I must say, the SCU acquitted itself
nicely. Now all we have to do is make sure the right people know that information.” She sighed again. “I’ve got budget
meetings all week!”
Bea hesitated. “As for your last question, who’s next, I don’t really know, but I’ve heard rumors that Max Wilson and
Chantal McCorkle are supposedly making eyes at each other.”

Michael could hear the smile in her voice. Bea presented herself as a serious, no- nonsense supervisor, but he knew
that she had a fun side--maybe even one a little mischievous.
“We need to do what we can to make sure our agents stick around. I don’t want to lose anymore great talent.” Bea
said as she continued. “I agree.”

Michael hesitated before making his next request. He knew this would be another high budget, high visibility case,
and the unit was already facing difficult times. “So, I was thinking about something that came across my desk recently
for our agents to work on.”

Bea chuckled. “Yes, that dreaded smuggling case. Make the arrangements and let me know how it goes in the
morning.” Michael had been with the Federal Bureau of Investigation for more than twenty years. In that time he had
become the leader of the Special Corruption Unit, a group of highly trained agents assigned to work on the Bureau’s
toughest cases.

The original mission of SCU agents was to work on corruption cases in law enforcement. Agents worked undercover
in various facets of the law in locations across the nation and overseas. It was a job nobody wanted, but as times and
demands changed so did their duties—in the beginning SCU was not synonymous with success—it was far from it.
But in time, to work for the SCU changed from a necessary evil to a mark of distinction. The name of the unit stayed
the same, although it was no longer appropriate. Spates had made sure during his two-decade tenure as the unit’s
director, that the agents he selected and the cases they worked on were important. When his time with the Bureau
was over, he wanted to be certain that the SCU left the proper legacy to the organization. His mentor, Peter Anderson,
had given too much of his own blood, sweat, and tears to the group as well to him to let the Unit go. And maybe he
would admit to himself that he worked so hard to ensure the success of the unit as much for Beatrice as for Peter.
Maybe success for Bea was even a little more important…

****
Bea kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet to her desk. It felt good to relax. The last several months had been tough...
she felt like she was in constant battle with the Department and congress over her staffing and budgetary needs. If
only they were allowed the resources to solve crimes without constantly being made to feel like they themselves were
the criminals, they would be able to get a lot more done!

Bea took her position as Executive Director seriously; she had worked hard enough, and sacrificed even more to
achieve it. It was hard for her to let her hair down and relax around other people. But yet, Michael stirred feelings in her
she wasn’t prepared to acknowledge--he made her want to let go. She heard the softness of his tone and
disregarded the fact that she was the one who had caught the bouquet at the last wedding she’d attended. She
ignored further the fact that Michael had caught the garter belt. Instead, Bea looked down at the file she hadn’t told
Michael about during their conversation. The one that made her shiver despite the warm temperature in her office.
How in the world was she going to tell him?