It wasn't one of those regular days where the cloud mostly obscured the sun. Something about the atmosphere today tasted good, almost ethereal even. But I knew better than to expect that to be a sign of what the day was going to turn out to be. I would violate my house arrest the day before and I knew that I was going to be returning to my cell at Iowa Medium security prison.
I didn't quite pay attention to it at that moment as I lay on the lawn and watched the sky, but something about the cloud formation was a bit disturbing. It seems like a tapering portal through which a bolt of light and electricity cut. If I took an eternally long ruler to measure the zap-like cloud formation, it could easily end up in my house.
I waited on the lawn for the next two hours, just watching the birds fly to and fro. As a flock of birds flew past, I couldn't help imagining how far away they must have come from, because they looked strange and tired. I wondered if they thought of all that freedom and ability to travel so far as a gift or a curse.
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As the egret that follows the cattle, their arrival followed the exit of the strange birds. Much like the cloud, something was strange about these men. They didn't have their regular police car or uniform. These guys had their SUVs and suits; something was up.
For a moment, I thought of flight, but on second thoughts, I knew I couldn't outrun these guys, because they look like professionals. "Mr. Tye, good morning. Going somewhere?". Do I know you Mr…..?? I replied. "Mr. Mike; the name is Mike. Could we have a word inside?? We won't disrupt your prison appointment, promise".
Once seated, Mr. Mike got straight to business. "We are from a certain agency that doesn't exist, and we would like you to carry out a mission for us". Where?? I replied. "Afghanistan". It was then it dawned on me. These folks were CIA. Why me? "It is particular to your skillset," he replied. You mean, it's the job of an assassin? "Something of the sort" he replied.
I didn't want to entertain this, I didn't like it but I couldn't stop myself from asking "What's the risk level?". On a scale of 1-10? 11, he said. And what's in it for me? I asked. "A full pardon, expunging this conviction from your record". As I responded, he added "And your wife". I looked at him hard and long. He wasn't kidding.
Laurel would kill me (that's if I make it back) when she finds out about this. I swore never to go back in, but here I was contemplating it. If I did this, I could have the mother of my children back, and the kids will have their mother again, but then I could still lose her. It wasn't an easy choice.
Five months later, as I watch the sky from the cockpit of this CIA spy plane, there is the cloud formation again, just the same, except that if I used that eternal ruler to draw a zipline, it would cut through my plane. I couldn't have had a more ominous sign. It was clear that this was the last time I would ever dream of seeing my family again.
