Where the Ghosts Lie

Chapter Four

For ten years all Nolan wanted to do was get out of Virginia. Now he was on a plane flying to the CIA headquarters, conveniently located...in Virginia.

Funny how life works...

He was squished in between a young mother with a newborn baby and a middle-aged man who was absorbed in a newspaper.

The lady had already asked Nolan to hold her screaming banshee child while she went to the bathroom and he prayed the flight wouldn't take much longer.

He wondered when he'd finally be free of this life that was chasing him. He hadn't killed Egor, but had been blamed for it. Now someone finally believed that was true...and they wanted him to kill Egor. They said he was innocent, but now wanted him to go commit the crime he was innocent of?

Because that makes total sense. Nolan thought dubiously as the plane began to make its decent in Richmond.

After navigating through the airport, he paid a cab to take him to the Central Intelligence headquarters.

The yellow taxi pulled up to the arched glass entrance.

"Thanks." Nolan said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He glanced down at himself. He was dressed in jeans, a grey hoodie and probably smelled like he hadn't had a shower in two days, which, unfortunately, was true.

Real professional, Nolan. If you wanted to make a good impression, this was a classy way to do it.

Nevertheless, he pushed open the glass doors and stepped into the warm air. There were three pillars on either side of him and a wide floor of waxed tile. In the center of the floor was the crest of the CIA that led towards a set of steps.

Men and women in business suits walked around quietly, casting a few suspicious glances Nolan's way.

He located a desk and walked up to it. A woman in a navy blue blazer sat behind it, typing on a laptop. She looked up just as Nolan arrived.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, my name's Nolan Clay. I spoke with Director Howard yesterday on the phone. He told me to meet him here."

She nodded. "Take the elevator to the bottom floor, room 15." She handed him a clip-on tag to wear.

"Thanks." Nolan found the nearest elevator and pressed the button for the bottom floor.

His stomach fluttered with nervousness as the elevator made its decent.

The doors parted to reveal...a basement. It looked nothing like the posh upper level. It was lit with yellow lights and had wires sticking out of cracks in the wall. Nolan stepped out of the elevator cautiously, looking around for room fifteen.

He spotted a red door with golden numbers nailed to it and knocked. He heard shuffling from the other side before it was opened.

And elderly man in a sharp business suit stood there, his brown eyes flat and serious. "Mr. Clay, I assume?"

"Director Howard?"

"Come in."

Nolan walked into a room that was rigged with old computer screens covering an entire wall. Plastic fold-out tables were set up in a horseshoe shape and had three people, two men and a woman, sitting in the chairs. Nolan gave them a polite nod.

"This is Nolan Clay." Director Howard said.

The older-looking man lifted his hand in a wave. "You were a Private in the army, right?"