The Company and I

When you run in spy circles,  a certain organization is often referred to as "The Company".  We know who that is.

So, I may have mentioned that the White House something or other agency gave me a certificate of appreciation.  That is like a license to do whatever I want.  But I don't abuse it.

Ever since the change in local management at the resort house, we've had a particular guy do various projects which few people can do.  He's The Cleaner.  Rico, I call him.  He's buddies with the ex SEAL body guard I've never seen or met, but who takes care of certain guests when they are in the area.  We never knew of these people under the previous manager.  But they have been in the mix for some time, apparently.

I know what you are thinking.  I agree; Black Ops.  I suspect that Rico handles a lot of the restoration, bio containment, etc., in the event maybe some terrorists got taken down by unorthodox means.   He has a military background and is rumored to give martial arts demonstrations at Camp Pendleton.  This whole restoration and remodel contractor thing must be a front.

Rico does incredibly good work.  He can get things on short notice;  like specialized tile, even if they have to make it!  It's how those initials outfits and black ops source things.  And it gets paid by misdirected tax money.  No record.  Just some of the massive amount that just goes away, without explanation or justification or even any idea where it went.

No question that the guy and his crew do first class work.  If you are cleaner and fixer for Black Ops or/and The Company, then of course you are good.  You have to be.

So I think this place is really a hotbed for spooks to do their secret ops stuff.  And there I am.  Quietly in the middle of it.  Maybe the only one who sees what is really going on here.  Although, Martha and Pez (co-workers' code names) have come to believe, too, that Rico is maybe a cleaner.  Perhaps we work at a safe house.

But the rapidity with which he can marshall other specialists and sub contractors, as well as materials, is near miraculous.   Only those with a chunk of military or government resources, with all red tape cut, can assemble necessary equipment and material so rapidly.

This latest outfit he brought in to help with the flood damage---bizarre pipe under sink mysteriously breaks, spewing water for no one knows how long; maybe a day---has the demeanor of a military assault team.  Totally professional, methodical, that military posture and bearing, and very respectful, yet matter-of-fact.

I'm pretty sure all these guys are involved in clandestine support activities.   For example:  Let's say there were some bad guy terrorists looking to make mischief, or on the lam from doing evil in Syria or Somalia or somewhere.  And our guys, in some secret or even invisible, technically non-existant, group, track them right here to La Jolla or Carlsbad, let's say.   They confront them at a safe house or bad guy lair and have to shoot them.  Big mess.  Dead people.  Holes in walls.  Blood, other organic stains and materials. No good.

So, they call in Rico.  Rico gets it done, either buy doing it himself with his small crew, or by bringing in one of his expert colleagues as the situation warrants.   When he is done, no one can tell the place was the scene of a gruesome massacre.

One has to wonder how I fall into these important workings of the inner sanctum of power, as we know it.   I think my job is to lay low and not get beat up.  Another new motto