WOTchapter1

The classroom was noisy, but no more than Jonathan Jedint expected for the first day of school for this senior class. Students were chatting about nothing and everything, from summer jobs to current relationships to the colleges they planned to attend. He reminisced for a few moments about his senior year, and decided to let them talk for a couple of minutes. To someone looking around the room, it was obvious why the students had started calling him "Mr. Jedi". From the door-size poster of Carrie Fisher in her gold bikini outfit from The Return of the Jedi to his Halloween mask of Darth Vader, it became apparent to all that the man who ruled this room was a Star Wars fanatic. Hung from the ceiling was a gift from about four years ago, when a student of his by the name of Janine Desmith had given him an 849-piece 3-D puzzle that, when assembled, was a great representation of the Millenium Falcon. She'd also given him a note saying that she'd tried to assemble it and couldn't, so she figured to let him stew on it for a month or two. He had it completed the fifth night and brought it to class the next day just to see her jaw drop. It was a shame that she lived in Alaska studying Eskimos. Still, he supposed someone had to help them, and she had never been one to turn her back on somebody she could help.
Her sister Angela was in the Economics class this year. He looked at her, and realized that the two girls had drawn from opposite ends of the gene pool. Where Angela had dark blond hair and eyes that were a compelling mixture of gray and green, Janine had pure black hair and stark black eyes which always seemed ready to fight for a cause. Angela was seated in the fourth row from the right and two seats from the back, a fact that took him about an eighth of a second to remember. Other teachers would kid him about his memorizing of his seating charts, saying, "J.J., why in the world do you bother? The roll sheets change every other day from September through December!" His kids loved it when they came in and he knew their names from the start, except for the occasional child of paranoid government-fearing wackos, which were not too common this close to Washington, D.C.
Anyway, he said to himself, time to get to business. First, he said softly, "Please be quiet so I won't have to do something silly." Of course, no one heard him over the din of thirty-five seniors who didn't want their fourth period Economics class to start. "At least I only teach seniors," he mumbled to himself while he rummaged in his desk for the two ashtrays, one lighter, and about fifty firecrackers he prepared for each of his classes on the first day. He placed the pack of Black Cats on one of the ashtrays and threaded the fuse through one of the indentations on the side of the ashtray, then put the other one on top. He savored the moment, then lit the fuse and watched the panic when they went off.
When the commotion had died down, he told the class, "What you just witnessed was a classic demonstration of cause and effect, but that lesson isn't for another few weeks. As you know, my name is Mr. Jedint, and this class is Economics. The state of Maryland has decided to force all of its high school seniors to learn about the workings of the commercial world, and it chose me to do so over eight years ago. The first thing I ask of you is that no one tells anyone else of what I just did except for other students that have me or have had me for a teacher. It may surprise you to learn that no senior has ever warned the junior class of this trick. This is a year class, and I am the only Econ teacher at Maryland High, so unless you move to another district, you're stuck with me. Any questions?"
A brave soul in the back raised his hand. "Yes, Charlie?", he asked.
The student grinned and replied, "I was going to ask if you really memorized our names at the start of every year, but you just answered that."
J.J. grinned and asked, "Anything else?"
A girl raised her hand, and when J.J. pointed to her, she said shyly, "Is it true that you used to teach political science at Georgetown?"
"Yes, Alexandra, that's true. I did teach at Georgetown for one year, but I didn't like the constant pressure. I decided to take a couple of classes there that would allow me to teach somewhere that wouldn't treat me like a trained mutt. Last chance for questions," he replied.
To his surprise, Angela Desmith raised her hand, and without waiting for him to acknowledge her, said with great mischief, "Can we see the Mr. Junior California picture I heard about?"
I knew I'd regret showing that damn thing to a student, even Janine, he reproached himself silently. Let's see how much she's been told. Out loud, he replied, "Beg pardon?"
"Come on, Mr. Jedi," Angela said, causing a snicker for the use of that name with an unrepentant grin. "My sister told me all about it before she left. Show it off!"
"She'll be sorry when she has kids of her own and they tease her about the stupid things she's done, that's for sure," he grumbled. With a sigh, he turned to his desk, reaching for the back of the bottom drawer and pulled out a picture that resembled Sly Stallone (or so J.J. thought) when he was a teenager, and held it up to the class, anticipating the derision. He wasn't disappointed. Angela laughed hardest of all, and pulled her camera out of her purse and snapped a quick picture of him and his photo, startling J.J. with the flash.
"That's one for the yearbook!" yelled Charlie.

"I couldn't believe it, Lis. It really existed! I thought Janine was teasing me about it, but it was true!" laughed Angela, wiping tears from her eyes and drawing looks from everyone else eating on the field.
Lisette smiled and asked, "So you weren't sure that he had that picture?"
"Not in the least! I just acted real confident and then he pulled it out! I've got to send a copy of that to Janine! She'll laugh so hard she'll scare the whales away!" she replied.
Before either one could stop laughing, J.J. himself came up to them and smiled. Both of them quickly shut up.   "Well, I was worried about your sister telling you about the firecrackers, but I neglected to tell her not to breathe a word about that stupid photograph. Perhaps I should teach you how to curse at her in Eskimo."
"Actually, I sent her a Rubik's Cube for Christmas, telling her that if she solved it, the Eskimos would worship her as a god," was Angela's retort.
He decided to change the subject. He said, "You're Lisette Stevens, n'est-ce pas? Tu es dans ma classe d'�conomics la cinqui�me heure?" Apparently he'd heard about the six years she'd spent studying French, plus a summer or two over there. He himself was rumored to speak every language spoken at school: Korean, Indian, Arabic, Spanish, etc.
"Yes, I'm in your fifth period, but please keep that picture handy for my class," came Lisette's sugar-coated reply. He seemed to give up after that and walked away smiling to himself.
The girls looked at each other and began laughing anew, until Lisette stopped suddenly and a horrified expression came over her face. She said, "Did I really say that to a teacher that I will have for the whole year?   What was I thinking? Do I want to flush any hopes of college right down the toilet?" As she said this she got closer and closer to tears.
Angela let out a breath of resignation for her friend. Lisette had every right to be the most confident person in the universe, but she was always downplaying herself to others. It was an endearing trait until you saw people treating her like a doormat. She'd gotten better since she started her relationship with Steve. Speaking of which, Angela said, "Hey Lis, where's your hip attachment?", using her pet name for Lisette's boyfriend.
Lisette perked up immediately and replied, "He won't be back until tomorrow, remember? That's why I have to stay a little bit after, to pick up the papers he'll need. His family wanted him home for one last day." Steve Canleron was from New Orleans and his whole family was a very welcoming bunch of people, especially when it came to Steve, who lived a thousand miles away with his mother. His mother had been raised in a Washington social circle, where a stiff nod indicated great affection, and so never quite felt at ease with them, and then after the divorce moved home where she was comfortable.
Lisette had told Angela that the divorce judge had said that both parents would be equally good for Steve, then proceeded to ask Steve which of his parents he would like to live with, since he seemed mature enough to make the decision. Right then and there, he asked the judge for a quarter, and said, "Heads-Mom. Tails-Dad. No offense, Pop." He flipped the coin into the air, let it land, and it was heads, so he went with his mother. That had been almost four years ago.
He still visited his father at every possible occasion, but was torn about where to go to college. He didn't want to leave Lisette, who was planning on Georgetown, but there was a strong pull from his father to attend Ole Miss as many of his forebears had. It was a topic Angela tried to avoid. Still, she liked Steve, and she had even put them together for the first time.
Back to the topic at hand. "So how's your schedule looking? Still taking Advanced Singing and getting sick before every performance?" she asked, regretting the words as soon as they were spoken. Lis was frighteningly shy, but had gotten better with Steve.
"Actually, I've got that first period, so I'll never have to worry about Mr. Kiherty marking me late," referring to the teacher that had been trying for the past three years to get Lisette to make use of her beautiful singing voice. Both he and Steve had compared her to a caterpillar about to emerge as a butterfly. Kiherty would never do anything to make Lisette unhappy for that hope of one good performance from her. "Also, I'm in Drama sixth period," she added in a small voice, hoping that Angela wouldn't catch the remark.
A foolish hope. "Are you serious! You're in my Drama class! How'd you get in? Even I had to audition for the class!" Angela exclaimed.
"Don't be silly. I told Kiherty that I wanted to be in the class, and since he's the reason that Roth even became a teacher, he got me in." Mr. Roth had known Mr. Kiherty since they had worked off-Broadway together about fifteen years ago. Roth had gone on to Broadway itself, and even got nominated for a Tony before he fell from greatness. Kiherty had dropped from that drug-induced world and became a teacher. When Roth cleaned up, Kiherty pulled every string he could to get him considered for the teaching position, and got him, mainly by downplaying the addiction to marijuana (and other things) and emphasizing the Tony nomination. Now if Roth was not exactly a zealot, at least in public he seemed like he took his new job seriously.
"Are you going to be in the main show? I'd love that!" Angela knew that her best friend would have a lot of trouble with a large crowd, but wanted to try.
"I-I-I-I think I'll try, but I don't know if I can. I know you and Steve are old hats at this, but I can barely make presentations to a class," Lisette stammered.
"To call Steve and me old hats at this is a gross understatement, and you know it." Angela and Steve had been starring with each other in the school plays since he came to Maryland High. He'd been interested in a relationship with her since they kissed on stage in Romeo and Juliet at the end of their sophomore year, but when she introduced him to Lisette halfway through their junior year, they'd never looked at anyone else. It was mildly annoying to have him staring at Lisette when they were supposed to concentrate on what they were doing on stage. It was frankly sickening to see them cooing over each other when they thought no one was looking, yet strangely comforting to see her two best friends so happy together.
It also made her a little jealous.

-----Is our agent in place yet?
-----A few more days and the plan will commence. Some strings have yet to be pulled.
-----I need results NOW! We have lost too many agents already!
-----As I told you when we initiated this infiltration, there are no guarantees. On paper, it is a very sound plan, coupled with what we know of American society.
-----Why did you not tell me it might not work!?
-----I foolishly believed you knew that anything can happen in situations such as these. Our agent could be hit by a drunk motorist, or be struck by lightning for all we can predict.
-----Your point has been made. We shall proceed as planned. My apologies.
-----Accepted.

Why didn't I just throw the stupid thing away? he asked himself as he ran down the hall. He'd gone through many names over the years, but for the last five he'd been called William Stevenson. If anyone asked, he was a distant relation to Adlai Stevenson, enough for a raised eyebrow here in D.C.
His real name, all but forgotten these few years, was Stefan Ivanovich Gralivoy, employee of what was once the KGB. Since the fall of the USSR, it had been called by new names, but he'd always think of it that way, a name that inspired fear in the hearts of men. Now his current job, or mission, or operation, whichever these Americans wanted to call what he did, was in dire straits.
He had paraphrased an Americanism for his work: Existence is in the details. One such detail had led him here. He'd gone to his usual dropoff point in a movie theatre and ended up next to someone who had the burned-out look of an CIA paper-pusher. As usual, he put his popcorn on
the ground and in the same motion velcroed his small envelope to the bottom of the seat. Who would suspect that one man would always come to the same theater and the same seat every time every two weeks?
It had become painfully obvious that the CIA did suspect.
After he dropped off the packet, he'd settled back and tried to watch the movie. Whatever else he said or thought about America, he was aware of how much they liked to blur the line between reality and fiction. Books were bad enough here, but these movies had convinced entire generations of false facts. Stefan had already thought of an example for his eventual debriefing: Frankenstein's monster had been human-sized and not too obvious except for scars-in Mary Shelly's book. In the "classic" movie version, the monster was bigger, stiffer, and much stupider.
The movie was a cardboard story, meant only to provide a backdrop for the countless explosions, and he'd looked very often at his watch until it ended. No matter how bad the film was, he would not draw the attention of the entire crowd by leaving while it was still showing. Somehow he survived to the credits, and made an unobtrusive exit with the tail end of the crowd.
His decision to wait for the main crowd to leave made it easier for the six agents among the crowd. They'd ostensibly stayed for the same reason, waiting for a break in the jam, but they were waiting for their target to leave so they could take him into a service corridor along the main hallway. When Stefan got up, those two who were nearest the door did as well, to set a forward screen, while the pair farthest away went along the wall to block the rear exits.
As he exited, the man who'd sat next to him with the burned-out look had glanced up as he made his way between the rows-and the connection was made.
Later, during his debriefing, Stefan could not recall why just looking at the man's eyes had led to that intuitive leap, but it was a true guess. He did his best to conceal the flash of enlightenment from the agent, but just as Stefan had seen a spark of recognition, so had the CIA man, and he signaled his fellow agents to screen him in while saying, "Sir, please get on the ground and cooperate. You are under arrest for espionage against the United Sta-"
He broke off as Stefan made a break for freedom, incredibly dodging one then the other agent assigned to the main doors, stopping only to grab the packet he'd placed so often these past years. As he left his pursuers behind, he noticed other people advancing on him from both ends, undoubtedly other agents who might not have caught him if he had not gone after the packet.
His only consolation was that he managed to send a meaningful glance to the janitor who was scheduled to clean the seats after each movie before he was taken off in an unmarked car. Stefan knew that his contact, who he knew almost nothing about, might get caught, but he had hopes for the other part of his operation.

As Mr. Jedi outlined the course the next day, the guy behind her tapped her on the shoulder and passed her a note that said, "Who was your sister that she knew about that picture?"
Angela wanted to turn around and catch a glimpse of this guy, but she knew that Mr. Jedi would not hesitate to shamelessly embarrass her to get even for yesterday. Still, she wrote back, "She was one of his favorite students. He helped her get through high school, then Georgetown. They talked endlessly about everything." She held the note in her hand, then let it drop to the floor where he could slide it to himself using his foot.
She soon got it back with a new message upon it: "Could I talk to you at lunch? I'm new here and I still need some help finding many of my classes and you seem to know everything about this school."
It only took a moment of consideration before she was writing a reply. "I'm under the big willow tree with my two best friends. Just look for two people drooling over each other and a third looking sick."
She passed it back in the same manner as the first time, and heard a smothered laugh as he read what she had written. However, it seemed that someone else heard it too.
Mr. Jedi was there in half a moment, reading the note and saying loudly, "Well, I do hate to interrupt this romantic interlude, but I do believe that notes describing a place on campus where two people can drool over each other at lunch is not related at all to what I've been telling this class about. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" He fixed each of them separately with a deadly look. "Angela? Thomas?"
The guy behind her cleared his throat. "My name is Tony. Not Thomas, or Antonio, or any other silly twist. Just Tony."
Mr. Jedi grinned the grin of a shark about to feast. "No sweat, Thomas."
The class giggled, and Angela couldn't help joining in.

"Lis, I wanted to die from shame and laughter at the same time!" Angela had told the entire story to Lisette and Steve so that they would not be taken by surprise when Tony came by. "I know I shouldn't be laughing at what happened, but I couldn't help it!"
Lisette had a mildly annoyed look on her face. "What did you mean by, ?Two people drooling over each other'?"
Oops. "It was a joke. I was just trying to impress him, but Mr. Jedi used it as ammunition against me. Still, that'll make it easier for Tony to find us, won't it?" was Angela's tart reply.
Steve, of course, had to have his own wisecrack. He said dryly, "She does more drooling than me. I mean, I have to wash some of my clothes twice to get all the saliva out." That comment earned him a mean look, an elbow in the ribs, and a good comeback from Lisette.
"By the way, Stevie, are those crumbs on your shirt or are you just saving some of your lunch for later?" He immediately looked down at his shirt to see nothing there and heard Lisette snickering at his gullibility. He decided to throw in the towel at that point and changed the subject.
"So, who's this guy that you felt you needed to impress? Is he a drama geek or just a dork in general?" asked Steve.
"How can I know who he is if this is only the second day and I've only exchanged one note with him? Am I supposed to be psychic like you?" said Angela. She was referring to what Steve called his "cosmic hunches": an unnerving tendency to predict an event once in a while, but it was usually about someone's emotions. He'd guessed a lot about Lisette from the start, and he'd bared his feelings for her and found out that all his hunches were right. His record was just about .500 when he tried to analyze Angela, which was a good thing in her opinion.
"You know Dionne Warwick will call any day now," was all Steve said before he noticed someone heading for their tree with great purpose in his stride. Under his breath, he said, "Next victim, please step up."
"Well, I must admit that they aren't drooling too much right now," was what Tony had to say as he came up to them.
Angela laughed and said, "You caught them as they paused to refill their tanks. Tony Kerfest, meet Lisette Stevens and her hip attachment Steve Canleron. He's been away for a couple of weeks, but from they way they greeted each other today, you'd think he'd been gone for half a century."
Lisette nodded to Tony, then looked at Steve, whispering in a poetic tone, "Though it was only two weeks and a day, my heart's fragile strings had begun to fray."
Steve thought for a moment, composing a response. After a few seconds, he broke into a mischievous grin, pulled Lisette onto his lap, looked at her, and intoned, "And never did I go astray, no matter what those girls may say."
Before Lisette could tear out Steve's eyeballs, Tony intervened with a question. "Where did you go?"
Lisette looked upset at having her chance denied, but answered the question for Steve, "He went to visit his family in New Orleans."
"Where nothin' says lovin' like makin' a pass at your cousin. Some of mine have really grown up since I was there last time," was Steve's addition. Lisette wore a murderous expression after that remark.
Angela had had enough of the two of them teasing each other. She said, "Come on, you two. Lis, you know that he would never think about cheating on you. Steve, you know you can't."
This seemed to calm them down enough to the point where they started to mumble what sounded like gibberish to Angela and Tony, who had a look of bewilderment on his face. "Do they switch moods that quick all the time, or are they showing off for my benefit?" He said this in an aside to Angela so the lovebirds wouldn't hear him.
She shook her head and said, "They wouldn't hear a sonic boom happening 50 feet above them. Don't worry about it."
"Well, I'd love to stay and watch these two smother each other, but I must take my leave of you now," Tony said after a few moments.
Angela giggled and said, "?Take my leave!' I've never heard anybody say that!"
"You just did," came Tony's reply as he walked off.
Without bothering to tear his eyes away from Lisette, Steve remarked, "You know, there are easier ways to get rid of a guy. Insulting his ?manner of speech' was not very high on the diplomacy scale."
Angela sighed and said, "Perhaps you're right, but I'll never admit it." He smirked when he heard that and would have continued with Lisette, but Angela wasn't finished with her statement. "Lis, could you do me a favor and pinch your jerk of a guy in a painful place?"
"Yeowwch!!" His exclamation could be heard across the quad.

"Let the applause commence, for Angela is home! Please, please, don't everyone rush in," Angela said as she came in the door of her house. "Just remember that the 7:30 show is completely different from the 6:00 show.   Tip your waitresses generously, for tips make up 90% of their disposable income." She usually practiced remarks for later use when she thought she was alone, which was not the case this time.
"Do you sign body parts?" Her father was the one behind that remark, and the source for her skewed view of the world. He said that as the Assistant to the Assistant Secretary of Defense, he had to look at things in a different way. Jeff Desmith had been a professional spook during the Cold War, and since that was over, he now led the much calmer life of a paper pusher. He'd met his future wife on his last mission, which was just about thirty years ago. He had been working in the Kremlin, but when his cover got blown by a double agent, he'd immediately gone to the American Embassy, where the Ambassador to Russia had hidden him. During that stay, Jeff had become well acquainted with the ambassador's lovely secretary Irene. When they returned to America, they got married and settled down to raise a family. Of course, most of that was classified, so he'd never even told his two daughters the romantic tale. Angela had once called him a boring prig, but he just gave a knowing smile and said, "And one with low blood pressure."
"How was your day? Did you break any hearts at school yet?" He always teased her about her lack of relationships, since Janine had had a different boyfriend for each of her four years at high school and college. Angela felt that it was not fair to compare the kind of boys that had been around at the different times.
Still, she wanted to annoy him a little. She told him, "Well, there's this new janitor, and he's only about 25 years old, and it got real hot today and he took off his shirt while he was fixing the water fountain and he was..." She trailed off as her father became redder and redder. "Daddy, I'm just kidding," she said as she walked towards her room.
"That wasn't very funny, Angel. I wouldn't want you involved with a janitor," Jeff said in a menacing tone.
Angela was at the top of the stairs when she called down, "He prefers the term custodian!"

That night they sat down for dinner as the evening news came on. Irene did not appreciate having the television on during a meal, but Jeff was adamant, saying, "If I have to rush back to D.C. at some unholy hour, wouldn't you like to know why?" The family hadn't been together very much lately anyway. Jeff had been coordinating with the CIA on a major counterintelligence project that had just been executed, resulting in the discovery of several lower-echelon sleepers that would have become very powerful in a few years. Irene had helped the Ambassador to find a reason for them to be extradited and declared persona non grata, meaning they would leave the U.S. and could never return. Sleepers, as such long-term agents were called, were a disturbing tactic that had become very popular in the last decade and a half. It made sense from a financial and political viewpoint as well. If you send an agent to a not-quite-openly-hostile country that tends to overlook ethnic background for fear of being racist, and tell that agent to live a normal life, they can support themselves and do not worry about contact for several years. When they are needed, they can have devastating effects because of the background and built-up trust they acquire. Americans did not use this scheme because the majority of "field spooks", as the CIA termed their active agents, had personalities that did not include the extreme amounts of patience which are required for those missions. Plus, many agents were willing to die for America, but none wanted to give up ten years of their lives to work as an underpaid government flunky in some foreign country.
Still, it was a cause for worry for Jeff and Irene, because the exposed spies had left a farewell E-mail on all the computers at the White House, the Capitol, and the Pentagon saying, "Though we have been prevented from accomplishing the tasks which we were given, there will be and are now others that will not be stopped! The Motherland will rule this planet as she was meant to do, and nothing of your decadent and selfish culture will remain!" This message had been attributed to cyberpunks trying to cause chaos in the capital by the media, but those who knew of the captured agents had broken into cold sweats as soon as they heard about the message. Those agents were probably tending yaks in Siberia now for that silly endeavor.
As expected, there was nothing about any of that business on the news. Angela knew the entire story before dessert, and had little to say on the matter. Her parents knew of cases where sleepers had been in place and working on their cover for over twenty years before being "awakened" for one decisive move, like the assassination of a President. One of the busted Russians had been a second-year man in the Secret Service. The thought of a fanatic that close to the Commander-in-Chief and trusted with a loaded gun made her want to go to school and worry about her relatively unimportant life.
While Irene cleared the table, Angela had a few more questions for her old man. She asked him, "So anyone could be one of these ?sleepers'?"
"Just about. Why? Do you think your principal is actually a Siberian drill sergeant?" he said with a snicker in his voice.
"No, but I had a bad thought. If anyone could be working for the other side, and spending twenty years to become trusted, what stops one of these guys from becoming President or something?" Her voice nearly cracked with fright as she imagined this scenario.
"Angel, believe me when I say that nobody get scrutinized more than potential Presidents and V.P.s, and not just by the government. Could you imagine the ratings a news show would get if they discovered that the front-runner for President was actually raised by Russian spies plotting to destroy America?" he replied.
"I guess you're right, but it's still enough to make a person worry." she said.
"Trust me, I know about worrying over these agents." Irene said as she picked up the last batch of plates and cutlery.
Jeff wanted to have the last word: "You could say we lose sleep over sleepers!"

-----Our support teams are in place and awaiting further orders.
-----You are supposed to be waiting here for the order to leave! Who told you to prepare the network?
-----I assumed that we would be beginning soon.
-----Incompetent fool! Recall those people and assign new ones to wait until I say they leave.
-----I was told that contact had been made.
-----Whether it has or not is not the real issue here. You presumed that I would have allowed you to install the network without considering if I would or not. Do you have any grasp of how this mission will work, or has your stupidity caused your security clearance to be lowered?
-----I am not privy to the details, nor do I care.
-----Then know this, and reflect on it: this is an approach that has been used in the past, and only in a very few cases, and it was always effective. We have improved this technique by adding an element of confusion that will ensure success for our side.
-----If that is so, then we need to have the network for information pickup and dropoff ready.
-----Any truly good plan requires time and patience to come to fruition. This one especially. We need time for the target to become disoriented and therefore dependent on our agent. That is the key to it all.
-----Your point is well taken. I shall hold off on any other action until I have your authorization.
-----When this is over, we shall be known throughout the world as the smartest infiltrators ever to confound the paper tiger that is America!
-----No offense, my friend, but are you aware that you have a flair for the melodramatic?
-----I try. In this career, one needs a twisted sense of humor to survive.