Shotgun Thanksgiving Part One The last twenty-four hours have just been unbelievable. I know I use a lot of words like "unbelievable" to describe what's going on around here. This time I think it's really justified because I'm really having trouble processing all of it. So much has happened that it may take me several posts to get through it all. Our normal Thanksgiving ritual is to hit the slopes in the morning, and then prepare our dinner back at the cabin. There is always a good amount of alcohol involved in all stages of the process. This season has been fairly dry so far so none of the local slopes are open yet. We decide to enjoy early-morning Mimosas down on the lake on my dad's boat. It's actually more of a yacht. I try to avoid Marcia and her little inquisition. They all seem fairly sympathetic about my job loss but I still have to endure probing questions about it. Marcia's been questioning me almost every day. I've been telling her that I haven't heard from Ellie but I think she knows the truth. We get back to the cabin mid morning. As we close the door to the house, out of nowhere Ellie jumps in with a gun and starts yelling. "Hands where I can see them! Up against the wall!" Marcia reaches into her handbag. "Don't even think about it!" screams Ellie. "Hand it over. I want everyone's weapons and cell phones right now! Toss them out." "Ellie, what the hell are you doing?" I cry out. She doesn't answer. She forces us up against the wall and frisks us one by one, even me. I can see she has a crazed look in her eye. She's dressed in some kind of black jumpsuit, like a SWAT outfit, with her hair tied back. Once she collects all our phones and Marcia's gun, she asks us to turn around. "I'm sorry I jumped you like that, but I have no choice. I can't take the risk of one of you deciding to play hero and calling the police or someone. I've installed a cell phone jammer nearby so even if you have a hidden phone it will be useless. I've cut the phone wires. Don't even think about sneaking out of the house. I've wired all the doors and windows so I'll know and I'll chase you down." "What is wrong with you?" interrupts Marcia. "Haven't you caused enough damage already?" "I'm being set up, and I need to clear my name. I have some information that there may be a hit on this house today. If I'm right, then it will be a great opportunity to apprehend them and get some information on who is behind this. If I'm wrong, then we'll just have a nice Thanksgiving together." "What?" asks my dad. "If you think there's a hit here, don't you think having backup would be good?" "I don't know who to trust anymore," she replies. "I suspect everyone at this point. I've put in sensors down the road and in the woods. We'll know the instant anyone approaches. I brought in some weapons as well, but they'll be kept safe until we need them." Of course Marcia has to have her say. "Elena. You of all people should know how reckless and ill-advised this is. The moment you leave this cabin, you'll be hunted down and brought to justice. The entire weight of the US Government will thrown into the search for you, and we'll never stop until you are safely in Guantanamo or some other place where you'll soon be forgotten." Ellie looks at her and sighs. "Yes, I know it's a risk. All I'm asking is to have Thanksgiving with you. Alex, I know you have reasons to not trust me. Marcia, I know your job requires you to pursue me to the ends of the Earth. Brad and JR, I humbly apologize on the intrusion on this sacred American holiday. Considering that this may be the last time I'm on American soil, I just want all of you to allow this one last meal as it were." I look at her, and I see my family sort of glancing at each other. "So you're not planning to poison us or kill us all after dinner," asks Brad. I cringe a little. "If I wanted you dead you'd be dead already," she says. "When I kill people it's clean without any traces. Please, I care about all of you, and I'd hate to see you get caught up in something that I don't think you had anything to do with. I'm sorry I have to do it this way, but it may be the only way to clear my name. We'll know if anyone approaches the house, and we can defend ourselves. And if there's any kind of fire fight, you're going to want me on your side." My dad rubs his chin. "Hmm, a Thanksgiving fire fight. I haven't been in one of those since '72. You really think they'd come here? Who is it? Damn, girl, are you sure you don't want me to call my buddies?" Ellie smiles wanly. "I think we can handle a couple of low-grade Mercs don't you? Judging from their last couple of attacks, they're just hiring locals off the street. Untrained and poorly supervised. Whatever they're planning won't be well organized. I think if we put up any kind of resistance, they'll turn tail and run. Still, let's draw the shades and not give them anything easy." My dad grunts at her with approval. "You guys aren't seriously thinking of letting her stay here?" complains Marcia. "She's a known assassin. She's probably here to cover her tracks. She's playing some kind of sick game with us. She's a killer, and she can't be trusted. I'm not going to sit idly by while she plans our deaths. Have any of you read her file? Do you know who she is and what she's capable of?" "Oh, get over yourself," says my dad with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Ellie's a sweet girl." He walks over to her and drapes his arm over her shoulder. "So Ellie, you've never been to a Thanksgiving dinner before? You're in for a real treat. Why don't I take you into the kitchen and show you what we're preparing. You coming Marcia? Brad, go get the game up and get some beers ready. Alex, go close all the shades." Marcia spits and stutters in exasperation. "You...you...she...fine! If we're all dead at the end of the day, you'll only have yourself to blame." I'm kind of just standing there trying to comprehend everything. Ellie holsters her weapon, and my dad leads her into the kitchen. Marcia doesn't look happy. After shading the whole house, I join Brad in the family room. I grab a cold beer and collapse on the couch. "I didn't know you had it in you," says Brad. "I've always liked her. I didn't know she was so crazy. What is with you and psycho women anyways?" "Shut up," I tell him. "You think she's on the level? Or are we talking about poison pumpkin pie? I think I'll just stick to beer today." "She's not here to kill us," I reply. "She's not a psycho killer. I'll talk to her in a minute. Maybe I can get her to go." After a minute my dad comes back in. "You left her alone in there with Marcia?" He shrugs. "I don't know how to cook. Ellie volunteered to help cook." "Great. I'd better get in there so they don't kill each other. Too many knives in there." As I walk over, I hear them conversing. I stop before entering. Marcia is sauteing something while Ellie chops some greens with a big knife. "Why aren't you with your Commie friends celebrating Thanksgiving?" spits Marcia. "Oh wait, you don't have Thanksgiving. You people are godless." Ellie responds. "Why aren't you in one of your secret residences that Brad doesn't know about having one of your secret trysts? Don't think we don't know about that." "Do you really think you can keep Alex after all of this? You think if he knew the whole truth about you he'd still want you?" "Do you think you'd keep Brad if he knew about what you're up to?" "Listen Missy, do you know how many people die from kitchen accidents every year?" Ellie slams down her knife and faces Marcia. "Do you think I'm afraid of you?" She starts muttering in Russian, never a good sign. She might be Chinese, but for some reason she prefers to cuss in Russian, I've discovered. "What did you say? What did you call me? You god damn Ruskie--" "Ladies!" I exclaim, walking into the room. "Come on, it's Thanksgiving. Hey, who wants egg nog? What about some white wine? Can't we all just get along?" The two of them glare at each other. "How's the stuffing coming? What about the pie," I ask. The two women stare at each other. Ellie's hand is inches from the knife, and Marcia's hand is inches from the hot saute pan. "Cranberry sauce?" Ellie grabs the knife, but turns and continues her chopping, muttering in Russian. "What do have with Vodka?" "I'll find something. Marcia? Anything?" She huffs. "Sure. Get me a nog. Heavy on the nog, if you know what I mean." I go over to the bar, trying to keep an eye on the two of them. Of course Marcia starts up again. She's one of those people who can't let anything go. "You may have fooled Alex, but you don't fool me. It's a great cover you've come up with, I'll grant you that. You've got him wrapped around your finger so tight, he doesn't know if he's coming or going. You don't care who you destroy or what the consequence are, do you. You're going to leave him ruined, just as he's getting his life back. Just look at him, he's miserable." "You don't know me at all," responds Ellie. "I would never hurt Alex. He's the only person I've ever...well let's just say I usually don't get a chance to get to know people." Marcia stops and looks at Ellie for a moment and then laughs. "My god...you're serious. You think you're having some kind of real relationship, in your line of work. Elena, not only are you psychotic, you're delusional as well." "Do you think I like this? Do you think I really want to be who I am? Alex is the only thing that's made my life bearable in the last few months. I lie awake almost every night, worrying about what might happen." "Well you won't have to worry much longer. I'm going to personally see you onto the plane, although if I can connect you with a few of these killings, which I'm sure I can, you'll be seeing me for years to come, from inside the walls of one of our secret prisons." I walk back in with their drinks. "Cool it! What is wrong with you two? This is Thanksgiving. Marcia, I know all I need to know about Ellie. I'm not saying I like it. She wants to change her life, and out of all people you should be the first to support that. Ellie, you should know better than to engage her. She's just trying to agitate you. Now both of you settle down and let's try to get through this day. You're both smart, you're both beautiful, you both love your countries and would do anything for them. I know you might think of each other as the enemy, but you're both my friends, and the whole point of Thanksgiving is to get together and celebrate what we share, not dwell on our differences. I want you two to call a truce. Enough is enough. Please." The two women glare at each other. Marcia finally smirks. "Fine. I don't like have Thanksgiving by gunpoint. But in the spirit of the holiday, I'll try to be nice." "I don't want to fight," replies Ellie. "Now hug or something." They both glare at me, and then give each other a quick perfunctory hug. "Good. Now where are we on the turkey? Is it in the oven yet?" I help them prepare the rest of the meal and get it in the oven, playing referee the whole time. Almost as soon as we finish loading the ovens, a chiming fills the house. "Shit! Are you sure you're not having guests," Ellie cries. She runs over and pulls her laptop out from under the couch. In a moment she pulls up a shot of the road leading to our cabin from a camera she had set up. Sure enough, we spot a number of vehicles toiling up the hill. "This is it," she breathes. "Everyone get ready to defend this place."

Having it Out with Ellie OK, I'm going to acknowledge right here and now that my life is in a downward slide, and nothing I do seems to stop it. Every choice I make seems wrong, every move I make backfires. It seems like everyone is against me. And frankly, I don't thing I did anything to deserve any of this. I feel like god is plotting against me, trying to see how much pain he can cause in my life. What now, you ask? What else could possibly go wrong, worse than being put on a hit list and losing your job? I'm on my way to the cabin in Tahoe. I decide I really need to see Ellie, and since it's on the way (or maybe it isn't...) I decide to stop over. Let's pretend she's staying in her own cabin somewhere. I park nearby. I don't see any lights on, and there are no cars parked anywhere I can see. I wonder if she gave me the wrong address. I could barely find the place even with my GPS system. I knock on the door but no one answers. "Hello? Ellie? It's Alex!" I call out but no one answers. After a while I try the door handle. It's unlocked, so I peer inside. Still no one. I take a couple steps in, and the door slams behind me. I turn to find a gun pointed right at my temple. "Alex!" shouts Ellie, dropping the gun to her side. "What the hell are you doing here? Were you followed? You're not supposed to come out here. Damn it." She clicks the safety back on the weapon. "I had to come see you. I've got some new information. Ellie, I need you to be honest with me. If you've ever really loved me, I need you to be honest with me now." We sit at a small table. Ellie rubs her shoulders, a look of concern on her face. "I'll do my best, Alex. I know this is all pretty hard on you. You have to know that I'm on your side." "But I need to know what other side you're on. Are you working for the Chinese? For Infinitae? For terrorists? And who have you been paying off? And why?" She crosses her arms, never a good sign. "I've told you everything. I'm not sure I like where this is going." I show her the list of transactions. Actually, I kind of fling it at her. "Look at it. Do you deny that this is your account?" Ellie studies is for a moment. "It looks like it, yes. But there are a bunch of transactions here I don't recall. I can pull my live account information up if you want." "Yeah, I want to see it." I can't see to remove the hostile tone from my voice, and Ellie starts glaring at me a little. Ellie pulls out her laptop and begins entering codes until the same page as the printout is displayed. "Hold on a minute. I don't remember these transactions." I look over her shoulder. Suddenly I realize what I'm looking at. This is her payroll account. I look at the piece of paper. "You get paid $48,000 a month?" Ellie nods. "Yeah, that's my retainer. Trust me, there are plenty of strings attached. But they figure that it will keep me away from counter offers." The total balance is staggering. We're talking well into the 8-digit range. "I get paid more when I make a kill," she adds. "Anywhere from a quarter to a half usually." "Huh? So half is like 24 thousand extra?" "No, I mean half a million. Look Alex, what I do doesn't come cheap. But this is really disturbing." She shows me where a large sum, almost 8 million dollars, has been taken out. "They financed the whole fake datacenter with that," she says. "So you are involved! Dammit, Ellie!" "No! That's not what I meant! Someone's obviously stolen my account codes. I never did recover my laptop after that raid. Someone must have stolen my passwords somehow." I look at it for a moment. "That makes no sense. This transaction happened way before that raid. And look at those other payments. A lot of those coincide with people on the hit list. Ellie, I just...I just don't believe you any more." And I felt more than that. I felt I couldn't trust her anymore. The whole trail led to her. She's been blinding me to the truth this whole time. A deep sense of betrayal begins welling up in me. "Alex, please, you have to believe me." "Then explain this. You were the only one who could have authorized these transactions. Why should I believe you? You've done nothing to lie to me since the day we met. You've used me, you've tricked me, and you don't even belong in this country!" Ellie closes her laptop slowly and with a final click. I can see her tensing, the muscles of her jaw twitching, and her hands forming fists. "That's not fair Alex. I don't know what kind of person you think I am, but I did not make those transactions. I'm sorry for what I did to you. But you need to believe me when I say that I'm not involved." "There's no other explanation. I wish you would just tell me what's going on, Ellie. Maybe I could help you. We're all on the hit list now. Whoever it is you're working with is about to double cross you." I show her the list Carrie gave me. "This is so crazy," she breathes. "I gotta get out of here. I feel like climbing up a wall right now. Ellie, you just need to leave the country. I don't know what you've got yourself into, but you need to leave. Please." She's really glaring at me now, with a mix of surprise and sadness. "OK Alex. I'll go. I'm sorry you can't believe me. In a few days I'll be gone, and you'll never hear from me again. Now excuse me, I've got to do some things. You can see yourself out." She stares down at her laptop as I make my way out. As I walk towards the door, I feel like I've made a huge mistake. I would hate for these to be our last words to each other. I look back at her for a moment, and she's regarding me with sadness and a little anger. I nod and walk out the door, kicking myself the whole time. I'm now at the cabin, and I keep having to stop myself from going back to Ellie and apologizing. If she's part of the plot, she'll get what's coming to her. If not, she'll be safely out of the country soon. But my life just can't get any worse right now. I feel like either my best friend in the world has betrayed me, or that I've betrayed my best friend in the world. Either way, it's the worst feeling that I've had yet. Well, have a safe and much happier than mine Thanksgiving everyone! I probably won't post again 'til Friday. Of course, if I don't...then you can guess what happened to me. I hope it doesn't come to that.

Carrie...Again... I'm feeling a little better today. I think the initial shock has worn off, and being near Ellie last night helped. Have I mentioned how great she is? She risked getting apprehended just for me. I so wish we could have a chance to start over. I know she's got her life, and I've...well I've got nothing right now. I've been sitting around my apartment catching up on all my TV recordings. None of the shows are any good any more, and with the writers' strike, there won't be much new for a long time. Well, I mean those guys have a right to get their fair share, but where's my new TV shows?? It's funny how in just a few short days my apartment has disintegrated into a messy nightmare. I never knew how much work Ellie put in around her. I've got dishes piling up, clothes on the floor, garbage around. I'm a frickin slob. I spend a bunch of the afternoon cleaning up the place. The mindless work seems to calm me a little bit. Right around sundown I get a little knock on my door. I open, and it's Carrie. I haven't returned her messages or emails. I'm not sure how she got my home email address but its not surprising. Now Carrie looks terrible. Her face is red, her hair and clothes are disheveled. This is probably the worst I've ever seen her. I try to get rid of her. "Hey, Carrie. It's really not a good time." "Please Alex," she sniffs, "I just need a minute. Please. It's cold out here." I relent and let her in, knowing full well that I'll regret it. "OK, but I was just about to get ready to go out." Carrie nods and sits softly on my chair, putting her hands in her lap. "I'm not mad at you," she says. "I know you were just trying to figure things out. But why Pollack? You know he's on our list." I sit opposite her. "I'm sorry Carrie. I thought if I showed him everything, it would get him on our side." "All you did was to force his hand. Now we're both on the outside. Nice job." "Carrie, did you just come here to bitch at me? If so then you can go because I don't really need it." She shakes her head sadly. "I know they're all in on it. All of them. The Americans, the Chinese, the Pollacks, all of them. They keep playing us against each other. I don't understand it. I think it's some US-China plot to maybe take out Russia. China is reforming, but Russia is backsliding. I think China's afraid of them, and this plot is a way to control that threat. I know how crazy it sounds." "Do you have any evidence of this? Anything?" Carrie nods. "Remember the server farm we found? I finally hacked into the financials behind it. Apparently a Chinese national has been funding it. I traced the back account back to someone named Kai Ying Slavinsky. Kind of a weird name. Ring any bells?" Kai Ying. Didn't Ellie sign her note with that name? "Anyways, that same account has been receiving regular payments from the Chinese government. I tracked some other payments in that account. One was sent to a Marcia Ross. Is she related to you?" "What? There's a payment made to Marcia? Can I see?" Carrie pulls out a piece of crumpled paper from her pocket and slowly hands it to me. I see the history of payments. Carrie shows me which ones she suspects. "This one here is a payment to Dr. Pollock. Do you see? They're all in it together. Here's a payment to Professor Benson, a couple weeks before he died. Just follow the money, Alex. I've got more." I look at her for a moment. I wonder if she's even slept in the last few days. Even behind her glasses I can see the bags under her bloodshot eyes. I know she hasn't showered in days. Even though she is bundled up, I can still see her little body trembling. "Alex, we're on the hit list! This is their pattern. They let people go, and then rig some kind of accident. I'm really scared. Did you see this? The kill date is Thanksgiving!" I don't know what to day. Last night I was so sure that Ellie wasn't involved. I should just bring this all to her. She hands me the copy of the latest hit list. Ellie, Carrie, and I are scheduled to be taken out on Thanksgiving, two days from today. "Well I hope they like skiing, assuming anything's open by then." I sigh. I had been so looking forward to taking Ellie snowboarding. We had talked about it a lot and she really looked forward to it. I'd shown her a bunch of pictures from last winter, and she just loved the concept. "If I'm going to go out, I'm going out with my family." "Aren't you worried? Aren't you concerned? Alex, I think they really mean it this time. Your friend Ellie isn't who she says she is. She's really dangerous. All these people are involved, and they're getting rid of everyone who's been associated with the project. We might be the last two people who know the truth, and who can possibly put a stop to this. Trust me, I've tried to make some inquiries with other parts of the government, but I've gotten nowhere. No one will listen to me. We have to take some kind of action." I'm silent for a moment. "Listen, Carrie, I'm out of this. If Ellie's involved, that's her business. If Marcia and Doc are in it, so be it. I'm tired of fighting all this. I'm tired of trying to figure out all this mess. You have a handle on it. Maybe if you just talk to Ellie, she can help you straighten this all out." "No!" Carrie fairly screams. "I'm not talking to her. You need to stay away from her. You have no idea how evil she is. Why do you think she's on the list? Even the conspirators can't trust her. She's been playing you for a fool. I can see it so clearly." I rise to me feet, agitated. "What do you have against her? I know her, and she's not like that. She may have done some bad things in the past, but she's putting it behind her. The last thing she wants to get involved again. I'm sure there's an explanation for everything." Carrie looks like she's about to burst. Her face is redder than ever, and she looks like she's holding her breath. "God, Alex. You're so blind. You've always been blind to what's right in front of you. How could I have...oh god. Alex, you just..." She grabs her crutches and hobbles to the door. "You're going to die, Alex. You're so fucking stupid. I don't see what the hell I saw in you. You're going to fucking die with the rest of them. I tried, I really did. Fuck you!!" She limps out, not even closing the door behind. I watch her hobble down the street towards a taxi stand, and then close the door. She's completely lost it. I look at the papers she's left behind. Once again, troubling doubt enters my head. Is it possible Ellie really is involved? Could these transactions have come from her account? As usual I'm at a loss. Part of me wants to believe Ellie so bad. I have no way of authenticating any of these numbers. I'm just going to have to confront Ellie, and find out the truth. I just hope to god that Carrie is wrong.

Heart 2 Heart with Ellie Hey, it's Alex here again. I'm sorry about that post a little while ago. Yeah, I'm here in some dingy motel room with Ellie of all people. Chinese intelligence has been watching me, and they let her know that I was in trouble. She herself came and picked me up off the street where I had been sitting yelling at people. She's sitting here next to me--well, not right next to me--and helping me type this. I've been a total screw up the last few days. She's right, I've been maybe subconsciously trying to prove myself to her. I haven't posted everything we talked about the other night. We sat up a long, long time talking about her life and what she does. I just figured I could maybe show her that I could do the secret agent thing too. First by getting into Building Four, then smoking out the conspirators. Instead, I'm out of work, and frankly I think I've made Ellie respect me less. She denies it, but really. I just keep making one bad decision after another. You know, when I thought Ellie was just a fuck-up of a girlfriend, things were somehow easier. I could be mad at her and blame her everything, and not have to look at myself. Now that she's this super secret agent, I feel like I'm the one at fault for everything. I feel like I need to be the super guy, keeping things neat and taking down the bad guys. I don't really get it. I know even thinking this way probably drives her away. She's telling me that I need to look deeper, into my heart. I'm getting caught up in a lot of superficial bullshit that's coming from my head. She says I'm a head-oriented person, always trying to think my way through problems. That only scratches the surface. To get to the root of all issues, you need to look further, down to the heart of the matter. She wants to know deep down inside how I feel, and to not say "you know". Well, Ellie, it's really hard to describe. When you enter the room, all I see is you. My heart begins to rush, and I have an irresistible urge to hold you. I think about you when you're not around, and my entire week is spent think about what we could do during the weekend together. I can't sleep unless I know you're comfortable. I like how when we get out into nature, you just want to breathe it all in. You seem to experience life though the eyes of a child, although you've seen more death than most adults. It's so strange that you live and breathe vitality, but you mete out death. "If I could just be that person," she says, "I would be so happy. If I didn't have to bring death into the world, I could be free." I think I see something in that moment, deep in her eyes. I can see a clear knowledge that she'll never be free. I've been trying so hard to solve a plot that I just can't. Ellie is never going to be free either. It's not who she is. The person I saw rip out a man's throat with her teeth will never have a normal life. Perhaps she drinks in life to avoid all the memories of death. Maybe it's because she knows every moment could be her last, and it's just a matter of time before they turn one of their assassins on her. "Ellie," I say, taking her hand in mine. "I can't fight these people anymore. I have no idea what I'm doing. I can't figure out who's what or what's happening. I need your help. Thousands of lives could be in danger. I can't stop it. Carrie has cracked under the pressure. I know this could lead to more killing. Ellie, I need your help." She squeezes my hand. "Oh, Alex. You know I might have to kill again. You know how hard I'm trying to get away from that. I don't want you to have to go through that." I look at her. "Ellie, it's what you do. You infiltrate, you investigate, and you kill whoever's responsible. I can't ask you to kill anyone, but I'm beginning to realize that it's not fair to ask you not to either. You're the best assassin in the world. I want you to be Elena Galistina, not just a girlfriend or a lover. I want you to be the person you know best how to be. You know how to do all this stuff. I will help you all you can, and I hope you don't hold back on my account or anyone else's." I see some tears well in her eyes. "It follows me everywhere I go. I can't escape it. You understand what I need to do." I wipe the tears from her face. "You've got to embrace it Ellie. Be the killer, but do it on your own terms. I just want to write code, not save the world. Let's just be who we are and stop fighting it already. I'm just a programmer, you're a killer, but we love each other and we're going to make it work. How does that sound?" She nods and wipes some tears. We hug for a moment. "Alex, you really need to take a shower. Like now." When I get out of the shower, she's gone. She left some money to help pay for the room and a note, saying that we'll meet again soon and to be brave. And then at the bottom it says, "Love, Kai Ying."

From Ellie Hi. This is Elena Galistina. My friend Alex is a little too drunk to type right now. He insists that I post an update to this blog. It's the only way I could get my computer away from him. OK yeah I could have taken it by force but he's in really bad shape and I'm trying to keep him calm. It's really hard to understand him right now. He seems to be rambling on and on about people turning into zombies. I think that Infinitae let him go. Apparently he's been drinking all day. I received a call around 8 from our surveillance team. Alex had been seen at various places, but we intercepted some calls about a disturbance. Since I haven't been relocated, we knew that any contact with local authorities could compromise my position. I find this incredibly hard to believe, but apparently Alex has been fighting with patrons, trying to get them to believe that their lives are in danger. He's also gotten himself incredibly drunk, more than I've ever seen him before. I'm trying to elicit some kind of explanation from him. I'm trying to understand what has been going thru his head these last couple weeks. I know that I haven't been there for him, and revealing my true identity has been hard for him. I've never seen him go off the deep end like this. When he previous company folded, he seemed to take it much better. Maybe that was because he had some warning, and he could mentally prepared for it. OK, he's whining about something now that he wants me to put in here: "Ellie. You don't know what it's like being me. I'm just a fuck up. I've never done anything worthwhile in my life. I'll never measure up to you. You're so great blah blah blah and I'm trying to be the kind of person you would like." I'm trying to explain to him that he doesn't need to prove anything to me. He sees me as some super killer or something. Well, maybe I am, but I'm certainly not looking for someone like that. "Alex," I tell him. "I like you for you are. You don't have to change into James Bond and save the world. If you think that, then you don't know me at all. I just want someone I can talk to, and to be with, and to share my life." He seems to be getting upset. I can't understand half of what he's saying. It's pretty incoherent. Oh wait, I think he's talking about that weirdo Carrie now. "She was really mad today," he says, although I'm cleaning up the words so you can understand them. "I came in really late, around 12, but she was still there. She was in there with some execs, and there was some yelling involved. After a while she stormed out, her face completely red. I expected her to explode right there. She didn't even look at me. I just returned my laptop and my badge and a couple of other things and hit the bars." He keeps trying to grab me but he is foul right now. I know I'm responsible for a lot of this. I broke up with him in a painful way, I didn't investigate his claims, and even before we split, I knew I had done some things to distance us. But he's not coming near me in this state. Maybe if I had as much as he's had...but I need to stay alert in case something comes up. It's only been a few days since the last attack. He's telling me more about Carrie. "She has a backup system that can still access inside Infinitae," he tells me. "She's up to something. She called me today, a couple hours ago. I couldn't hear much in the bar, but she said something about showing them. She thinks the plotters are out to get us. She says that we're on the hit list. She's afraid they're going to try to kill us. She's talking about hitting them where they hurt. I think she's cracked." I question him a little more about this. He insists that Carrie knows everything about the plot. I hesitate in going back to questioning her. She gives me the creeps, and I've been around a lot of creepy people in my time. That hovel she lives in is beyond disgusting, I am so sorry Alex chose to spend any time there. You may be wondering why an assassin like myself doesn't just kill her after what she did with Alex. I think if that's the case then you don't understand me at all. I'm not a killer or a murderer. If someone hasn't committed a crime or aided and abetted criminal activity, I won't touch them. And I'm not talking about jaywalkers. I'm talking about crimes against humanity like terrorism or genocide. I have no problem killing people like that. Even with those people, nothing is black and white. They have families and loved ones, children and grandparents. I just can't bring myself to kill anymore, unless it's to protect someone from dying. In my youthful exuberance, I slaughtered anyone they gave me an address to. If I never killed again, I think that would be the best world for me. Alex is telling me to stop writing about myself. Hey what can I say? I've got my own blog that he almost never looks at. Yes, Alex, sometimes I put secret messages in it. He seems to be happy about that. He want you to know that he thinks I'm the coolest person in the world. Sorry, "kewl"est person in the world. I need to push him away. I think he hasn't showered in a couple days. His beard looks a little unshaven. His hair is all mess up too, and his shirt is covered with stains, probably from the bar fight he got into. See what he's become without me? Ok, he's still a little cute when he's dumb drunk. Only a little. He wants to know what my plan is. Well, I only have about ten more days to wrap things up, and I'm on a plane back to China to train for my new assignment. I'll be going back to the world I hate. No, not China. I love that country. I love everything about it. The people, the food, the countryside, the history. You people in America have some great stuff, but we have history that dates back thousands of years. We have cultures and traditions from the dawn of time. I hope to take Alex back there some day. I think I've blown this chance I've been given, and I'll be going back to infiltrate some terrorist hive in some dirty shithole country. Alex wants the laptop back to make his own post. I'll take it away if he tries to post gibberish again. See ya!

Wa the hels hapinin oks o i'm a little durnk now. ok al ot drunk i've been drinking all day and things are shitty. ellie sso godd to me shes helped me she shemellsso nice i love her so much. imin hte bathrokm rihgnow and she soden't know i stoel the computer. thisissw the worst dya of my life. didi tell you she smels nice/ she's always smeles nice. iw as ast the bar and they kicked me out onthe street vqause i fuckim don't liks assholes. what itme ies ir/ im cognna mbe sick . fuck

It's Gone from Worse to Worst I drive up to the stately mansion nestled in the hills around Napa Valley, right in the heart of wine country. I stare at the gate for a moment. I pull up to the speaker and push the buzzer. For a while a get no answer, so I push it again. "Yeah," comes a voice. "Hi, this is Alex Ross. I really need to speak to Dr. Pollack. It's really urgent." "We're kinda in the middle of something. Can we set up something for Monday?" I'm about to reply, and then I hear some noise in the background. "Is that the game? What's the score?" "Damn, looks like the Rams just scored. Say, you want to come in and watch the game? You're not here to complain about some product decision are you?" "No, no, nothing like that. Hey, I split Niners season tickets with some friends." "Ok. Park near the fountain." I hear a buzzer and the gate slides open. I pull up and walk up to the massive doors. I knock, but when no one answers I just open them myself. "Hello?" No one responds, so I just follow the sound of the game. I find about a dozen guys sitting in a large home theater room. I've been to smaller commercial theaters. The game is projected in hi-def onto a 20-foot wide screen. On one side of the room sits a bar, where someone pours a dark microbeer from a tap into a large crystal mug. I also spot a nacho bar, a popcorn popper, a wine rack, a snack rack, a couple huge couches in the back, and cup holders on every seat. The guy at the bar waves me over and hands me a cold tall one. "You'll need it for this game," he says. "Hi, I'm Henry Daley from LiveTalk." He's the owner and CEO a fast growing chat service. "Hi, I'm Alex Ross from Infinitae." We chat for a minute, until Dr. Pollock spots me and waves me over. During a commercial, he introduces me around the room. The attendees are a veritable who's-who of the local web companies and their friends. Dr. Pollock, who is known as Doc at Infinitae, greets me warmly, telling people that I'm a star developer even though we've never met before. I really appreciate that. He quietly lets me know that we can talk at halftime, and to enjoy the game. Of course, there's really not much to cheer about. The 49ers are horrific. They can't run the ball and they have journeyman Trent Dilfer at QB. However the beer is pretty strong, and someone pours a round of shots as well. After a while they shrink the game and put a couple of other games up on the sides of the screen. After an agonizing first half, halftime mercifully arrives. After a minute, Dr. Pollock waved me over to a side room. Dr. Pollock turned his research project into one of the most successful social networking and communication sites on the web. His brother Martin had already made a small fortune on Wall Street and became the financial backer of the project. Martin Pollack has been high on our radar, but we haven't been able to find any connection between him and the plot. Doc is only a couple of years older than me, in his early thirties. He sits me down on a chair. "So Alex, what's so important you had to come all the way over here on a weekend to talk to me?" I gather my thoughts for a second. "I work with Carrie Park on the fingerprinting project." "Yes, I know. Great progress. I still don't know how we're going to explain the traffic-generating machines to our clients and stockholders." "Well, apparently we may have uncovered something not-so good during our work." I hand him a copy of the hit list. "Someone posted this internally. The last couple names were still alive when I first read this." "Oh, god," he breathes. "We've had the authorities all over us. The accidents seemed to be strongly correlated with our business. You think this is something internal?" "I've been questioned by both the US and Chinese authorities, and none too gently I might add. Given their complete lack of knowledge, my guess is that this is something completely internal to Infinitae. We've looked at you and your brother, among many others, but everyone seems clean. Carrie and I have been investigating this night and day." "I never knew this. I wish you had come to me sooner." He seems like a fairly decent guy, not like someone trying to take over the world. Of course, I've been fooled before. "We've also stumbled across some other technologies. Carrie believes that someone has developed a technology that can transmit subliminal-type messages through the internet and other mediums, and intends to use it for some kind of disruptive purpose. This same technology can sometimes detect thought patterns in our users." I show him the list of acronym soup he had discovered. "And you have no idea who's behind it?" "Not a clue. The only lead we had was that rogue server farm and the murders. Oh, and we also believe that this technology is housed in Building Four, but I haven't been able to get in. What's in Building Four?" Doc shrugs. "As far as I know, it's just a server farm. If anyone's changed that it would be news to me. And I've never heard of any of these projects. Either someone's covering their tracks real well or this stuff is all manufactured." "Manufactured? Why? Who would make this stuff up? We have the hit list and the rogue server farm, so some of this must be real." "I don't know. Why didn't you and Carrie come to me sooner?" I shake my head. "I didn't know who to trust. If people are dying, then revealing this to the wrong person could be deadly." Doc looks at the papers for a minute. "Listen Alex. I can't have you and Carrie disrupting the company with these wild theories. For all I know this is a hoax. I too have heard these rumors, and I assure you nothing is going on here. Now I'm afraid I'm going to have to terminate you and Carrie, for not bringing this to me sooner and appropriating corporate property for your wild goose chase. I've also been made aware that the two of you have been violating security protocols as well. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm putting a stop to it. When you come in Monday, you'll be asked to clean out your desks immediately. I'm sorry Alex, but I can't have employees generating these wild theories and causing untold damage to our corporate stature." My jaw has dropped and I can't find any words. "Please Dr. Pollock, we have to get to the bottom of this. My girlfriend is on that hit list. I've got to do everything I can to stop this plot." He presses a button on the phone to summon security. I grab back my papers. "If this thing explodes, it will be on your head," I cry. "Whoever is behind this is extremely dangerous. You can't just sweep it under the rug." "Please remember that your non-disclosure agreement is still in effect, as well as your non-compete. I wish you luck, and now I need to return to the game." The guard leads me out a side door so I don't have to walk shamefully in front of the other hi-tech execs. I might need one of them for a job. I drive home and type this up. As the theme of this blog has been, I don't know what to do. I consider calling Carrie, but I'd rather have her find out the hard way. I'm heading out, and I'm going to drink myself silly. I've lost my girl, someone who never really existed. I've lost my job, one that was never really assigned to me. And if I can't make the next couple house and car payments I'll lose those too. I'm going out drinking. I'll have to turn in this nice laptop tomorrow and then pull out my old crappy one. And I won't have money for a new one. I'll talk to you all later, maybe. Fuck the world.