The Swensen Connection: The Swensen Connection, #1

By Steven E Wilde

Mary Slade and James Swensen were strangers, recruited into the Central Intelligence Agency, created by the National Security Act of 1947--possibly in response to the nation being dragged into two world wars in thirty years. It eliminated many of the rules and procedures restricting the way the U.S clandestine services were able to combat enemies of the country; such as those imposed on the FBI. It also exempted the CIA from most of the usual limitations on the use of Federal funds. Working only outside of U.S. borders, there were few rules of engagement with foreign nationals and few restrictions on how they accomplished their objectives, which were primarily to gather intelligence on the country's enemies, and eliminate threats to the United States--that meant spies, top-secret missions, and, in some cases, assassinations. Most of the agents that originally made up their ranks were recruited from other agencies, such as the FBI, military intelligence, and the military's elite forces. Additional agents were recruited from security companies and University programs around the country, to fill their ranks. In the latter case, the Agency insisted on at least two years of higher education in a field related to political science, criminal justice, or something similar.

Mary and Jim crossed paths for a few years during their assignments, she as a courier and he as an undercover agent, and assisted one another as their experience increased and their attraction to each other grew. But the organization and training the government developed to protect their agents was challenged by other country's clandestine services, making it a hazardous profession when your opponents had similar tools, resources and freedom of action.

When the Agency got the idea to bring the two agents together for missions that required a couple, rather than an individual agent, the attraction between them became a powerful connection and they accepted more challenging missions, to pit their skills against the most aggressive and violent agent the KGB could point at them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steven E Wilde
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224935635

Steven E Wilde

I grew up in Salt Lake City and graduated from the University of Utah in Civil Engineering. My life revolves around my family and most of my spare time is spent with them. Together we enjoy camping, hiking, travel and get-togethers with extended family. In my quiet time, I enjoy riding my ebike, gardening, family history, emergency preparedness, home remodeling, reading and now, writing. I performed on stage in high school and still sing with a church choir. Marilyn and I love to ride out electric bikes and have ridden them in Utah, Arizona and Nevada. Each fall I process fruit and vegetables from my garden. I've traveled to six continents, either for pleasure or business. I survived two floods in Rio de Janeiro and a drenching rain forest in Costa Rica. I've been stung by a Ray on a California beach, I managed the construction of a graphite composite America's Cup race boat and watched it compete and win off the coast of San Diego. I managed the construction of a graphite composite prototype of the V-22 Tiltrotor aircraft. I managed the construction of five large steel wind turbines, which were installed in Washington, Wyoming and California. I managed and coached project managers in the U.S. and Canada and helped several of them earn their Project Management Professional certification. I co-authored two technical papers for the Department of Defense and spent most of my career doing technical writing of one sort or another. Other than some papers written in college English classes, the Gemini Gate Series was my first attempt at creative writing. This is my second. This is my seventh novel. I think I love writing more than most everything I do nowadays. I'd love to hear what you think of this or any of my other stories. Please leave a review on Amazon and feel free to contact me with questions and suggestions. Thank you. Steven E. Wilde Facebook: StevenEWilde_GG Email: [e-mail] Website: www.stevenewilde.com

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Chapter 1 - Salt Lake City, Utah, Hilton Hotel

Mary Slade

When Mary came into the kitchen wearing her favorite blue jeans, button up flannel shirt and running shoes, her mother suggested she dress up a little for this interview, as she perceived it. Obediently, Mary returned to her room and changed into smoky pink slacks, a matching sweater and black, low heels, with stud earrings. Her mom already wore a dark blue blazer over matching blouse, slacks and heels. Her dad wore black dress pants, a light blue button up shirt and black dress shoes. A light blue, plaid sports coat hung over the back of his chair, which he put on as they walked to the car. No tie.

Hi folks, Mr. Tanner said when Mary and her parents entered the meeting room in the local Hilton Hotel. He shook hands with each of them and invited them to take a seat at a small conference table. There was a pitcher of ice water and four cups on the table.

Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Tanner said, Help yourselves to the water. Sorry I didn’t order anything stronger.

That’s fine, Mr. Slade said.

When they were all seated and each had a cup of water in front of them, Ollie continued. My name is Oliver Tanner. Please feel free to call me Ollie.

You work for the CIA? Mr. Slade asked nervously, looking at Mary. Ollie studied Mary’s dad, not answering or acknowledge the question. Why is the CIA interested in our daughter?

Okay, I’ll get right to the point, Ollie finally said. He would normally take a few minutes to talk about the weather, the football game, or something else to help everyone relax, but it sounded like Mr. Slade was anxious to cut through the niceties and get to the meat of the subject. I’m a recruiter for the CIA. We’re looking for bright young talent to fill our ranks. Your daughter has come to our attention as a possible recruit.

I’ve read about the CIA. You deal with overseas threats to the nation, right?

That’s right, Mr. Slade. We’ve selected the best from the FBI, other agencies, and the military, to deal with national threats. Now, we’re trying to fill our ranks with the best and brightest upcoming talent. I think Mary is one of those who will help us accomplish our goal.

Mr. Slade looked at his daughter questioningly. Did you tell someone you were interested in working for the CIA? he asked her.

No, Dad, she said, studying her cup of water, not making eye contact with any of them. But I did complete a questionnaire for one of my classes that asked if I would be interested in working in the criminal justice system. Naturally, I said yes, since that’s what I’m studying.

The CIA and criminal justice aren’t the same thing, are they? He directed his question to Ollie.

They’re not the same thing, but it was what brought Mary to our attention, Ollie said.

I thought you just wanted to be a court clerk, or something, Mrs. Slade said, staring at Mary, her hands twisting a handkerchief nervously in her lap.

Mary had been wondering why the CIA was interested in her, too. Ever since Mr. Tanner had approached her after the football game, she had racked her brain for anything she had done to attract their attention.

Her first thought was that, since he had seen her interaction with the football players during halftime, he might think she did that all the time Did he think she was aggressive and mean-spirited? Is that what the CIA was looking for? She visualized a movie she’s seen where the secret agent ran across the top of a moving train, jumping from one cat to another, shooting at bad guys. Did this Mr. Tanner think that’s what she wanted to do with her life?

If it wasn’t the football game incident, was it something else she had done? Did they know about her years of martial arts training? Or her years of gymnastics? Since she was a cheerleader, he might think she was forward with men. What would he think when he found out she was basically shy, not even forward enough to talk to boys unless they talked to her first? The exception was the male cheerleaders, who she worked with regularly and had a friendly relationship with. Would they lose interest in her completely?

No Mom, she finally said, bringing her attention back to the conversation and looking at her mother. But I was considering applying to the police academy after I graduate.

You want to be a street cop? her dad asked, surprised, drawing her attention to him.

I want to make a difference, Dad, Mary said, looking back at her mother, pleading with her eyes for her mother to understand. You’ve taught me to be honest and to help other people. There’s too much greed and corruption in the world. I want to help change that. I want to protect people who can’t protect themselves. I know I’m just one person, and a woman in a man’s world, but if I can make a difference in one person’s life, I will feel like I’ve accomplished something. And I think I have it in me to help lots of people. I hadn’t considered working for the CIA or the FBI, but if that’s a possibility, maybe I can make a bigger contribution than I could if I were a street cop.

That’s a nice speech, Mary, Ollie said. Do you mind if I call you Mary?

Not at all, Mary said, still looking at her mom rather than at Ollie.

Mary, we’d like to give you a test, to see if you have the aptitude to work for us. I’m already convinced you do, just from watching and talking to you. But we have to go through this procedure before we can hire anyone.

What is this procedure? Mary’s mother asked, making eye contact with Ollie.

Honey, I thought you wanted to be a nurse, her dad said.

Dad, I haven’t thought that way since I was ten years old, when Billy Van Wagoner cracked his head and bled all over my new dress.

The first step is a written exam, Ollie said, bringing the conversation back on track. It’s a test of your critical thinking and analytical skills. If you pass that, we do a psychological evaluation, to try to determine how you will hold up under job stress. If you pass that, we put you back in school to get some related book learning, some of which you’re getting now, then contract with you for an eight-week, intense training program at our facilities. Assuming you don’t drop out of the training program, we hire you, start you on an eighteen-month probationary program, and give you assignments that fit your particular skills and interests, to see how you handle the stresses and rigors of the job.

What kind of training? Mary asked, now intrigued by his description.

Physical conditioning, martial arts, memory development, target shooting, obstacle course work, and psychological evaluation, for starters.

Do you know that I’ve been taking gymnastics and martial ats for years?

I saw that on your social media profile, he said as he smiled at her, a genuine, brotherly smile. That will be a big boost to your training.

She smiled proudly at her mother, then her dad. What kind of assignments?

I can’t give you specifics. Some of what we do is clandestine and involves overseas travel. Most of our women work in our headquarters office in Washington, D.C., as clerks, typists, analysts, translators, or code-breakers. Some function as couriers and travel to our outposts around the world.

How does the training help with those kinds of jobs?

You could be given missions that require rigorous activity, endurance, or mental stress. You would need to be prepared for anything that’s thrown at you

Violent criminals?

Not initially, and any mission of that type require at least two agents, sometimes more.

How long would this process take?

The longest part of the process is the schooling, Some of the classes you’ve already taken will satisfy some of our requirements, so, if we begin now, you could get your first assignment in about six months.

What about getting her degree? Mrs. Slade asked, anxiously. Would she have to drop out of her major to do what you’re suggesting?

Mrs. Slade, if Mary has the aptitude to work for us, she’ll get better training and a better education from us than she could possibly get in school, no matter how good their programs are. What do you say?

I don’t know, Mr. Slade said, worry lining his forehead. You’re asking us to take your word for everything you just told us. I’m not comfortable with that.

Are you saying you don’t trust me?

Well, we just met you. I’m not calling you a liar, but we have no way of knowing if our daughter will be safe with you.

I’m against it, Mrs. Slade said.

What’s your reservation? Ollie asked Mrs. Slade.

We lost Mary’s sister to some violent men in high school. We’ll worry about losing our only remaining daughter to violence, especially if she takes on a dangerous job.

I know about your daughter’s—Elizabeth’s—accident, Ollie said. And I understand your concern. You also have a son, David, correct?

Yes, David is forty. We tried for years to have another child, until Elizabeth came along. Then it took several more years before we got Mary. I’m too old to try again.

Where’s David now. I gather he’s not close by.

No, he took a job with an international mining company and travels a lot with his job. Last we knew, he was in Mongolia, managing a copper mine startup. We hear from him on birthdays and holidays, but haven’t seen him in about five years.

Does he have a family?

A wife and two children. She’s from Montreal, so she visits her family more often than she does us.

Mr. Slade?"

Mary has lived a sheltered life in a peaceful community. Other than the occasional bully, or teasing from friends, she’s had a good life growing up in Salt Lake City. She has self-confidence from living in a loving, trusting environment.

And you are to be commended for doing such a fine job raising her, Ollie said.

I worry, Mr. Slade continued, when Ollie stopped talking, that jumping into a global environment, one where she interacts with bad people, or people with vastly different standards, will be hard on her. I’d hate to see her subjected to the crime and violence we read about in the papers.

What do you think, Mary?

I’ve taken martial arts and gymnastics for years, to keep myself in good shape, physically, because of Elizabeth’s death. I swore then that I would never allow anything like that to happen to anyone around me if I could prevent it. You saw my interaction with two football players at the game yesterday. That’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like that.

What did you do? her mother asked.

I’ll tell you later, she said, then to Ollie, she said, I don’t go around looking for trouble, but I don’t walk away from it either. I don’t tolerate abuse in any form. I’ve stood up to bullies at school, I punched one guy for getting too personal with me, I even knocked a guy down who was harassing a girl in one of my classes. I don’t want to back away from a challenge that I think I can handle, even if there’s some danger associated with it, and I like the idea of seeing the world.

Ollie looked at Mary, thinking about her comments. She wore a concerned expression, so he waited for her to say what was on her mind. Can I drop out if it doesn’t look like something I want to do? she asked.

Mary, this is totally up to you. If you don’t want to do it, I’ll understand, but I’ve interviewed lots of young men and women and I think you’re one of the best prepared I’ve ever spoken to.

You mean that? You’re not just saying that to influence me?

I’m telling you the absolute truth. You can quit anytime, but once you begin training, it will be harder. We’ll need a commitment to finish the program. Then, once you pass all the tests and accept an offer of work, you have to sign a non-disclosure agreement and commitment, that are binding for life.

So I won’t give away any secrets? Mary asked.

Ollie nodded. We basically own you after that, he said.

Can I take the test? Mary pleaded with her mom, after considering Ollie’s comments.

I don’t know, Mrs. Slade said, looking into her daughter’s bright, intelligent eyes, then at her husband, who looked less sure. Oh, alright. As long as we discuss it again before you sign any commitments. I don’t want you doing anything dangerous.

Mom, walking down the street is dangerous. Riding in a car is dangerous. Life is inherently dangerous.

Okay. Okay, her mom said, throwing her hand in the air in surrender Point taken.

When can I take the test? Mary asked Ollie, now excited to be tested, to see if she was good enough.

We’ll have to go to the office, at Foggy Bottom in Washington, D.C. If I can get you there this week, we can have you back by the first of next week.

Then let’s do it, Mr. Tanner.

Okay, but please call me Ollie, he said.

Do you picture yourself as a secret agent or something? Mr. Slade asked Ollie. Like James Bond?

"I am an agent, Ollie said, with deep cover. In other words, an undercover agent. Would one of you like to go with her?"

Yes, I would, Mrs. Slade said.

He gave Mary a business card. Please call me today or tomorrow with your passport and driver’s license information and I’ll get your airline and hotel reservations.

Mary called him later that day, from home, and gave him the requested information for her and her mother. He called back later and gave Mary their flight information for a round trip to Washington, D.C. the next day, along with an overnight stay at a local hotel. He told her the airline tickets would be waiting at the check-in counter at the airport. I’ll have someone meet your flight at the other end.

Mary, her dad said, Are you sure about this?

Dad, she said, I actually looked into FBI training once, to see how difficult it would be. Despite how physically fit I think I am—how good I am at martial arts—I could be turned down for not being good enough. If so, I’ll accept my limitations and go back to school. But I don’t want to quit before I even try. What if I’m good at whatever it is they want me to do? What if I can help our country? Shouldn’t I try?

Of course, you should try, he said. We’ll just have to pray for your safety.

Thank you, Dad, she said as she gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek, then her mother. Thank you, Mom.

As they shuffled out of the room, Mary and Ollie following her parents, her dad muttered to her mom, I thought she wanted to be a nurse.

Mary rolled her eyes and Ollie chuckled, as he shook hands with them all once again and bid them a good day.

As promised, when they got off their plane in Washington, D.C. two days later, a pleasant looking young woman in a grey pantsuit, about Mary’s age, was holding a cardboard sign in the baggage claim area, with Mary’s name on it.

I’m Mary Slade, Mary said as she approached the young woman, dragging her roller bag behind her, her mother alongside.

Helen

Hi Mary. I’m Helen, the young woman said with a bright smile. If you and your mother have your luggage, please come with me. I’ll get you to Mr. Tanner.

I thought he wanted to be called Ollie, she said so quietly that it sounded to Helen like she mumbled.

What? Helen asked.

I’m sorry, she said, a little louder. I said ‘I thought he said to call him Ollie,’

Did he tell you to call him that?

He did.

Then we’ll all call him Ollie.

Isn’t that his name? she asked, apologetically.

It is. It’s just that I don’t assume I can call the agents by their first name unless I’ve been given explicit permission. Since he gave you permission, you can call him Ollie to his face.

Helen noticed that Mary looked excited to be there; enthusiastic and eager to get started. She had an inner light that lit up her face. She was obviously proud to be where she was, like everything she had ever done had brought her to this point in her life.

Helen led them out to the curb, where a Lincoln town car waited with the engine running. A young man in a blue suit, slightly older, stood next to the open trunk. He placed their luggage in the trunk, then Mary and her mom got into the back seat. Helen sat up front with the driver, then introduced the driver as Rick.

Mary looked at the back of Rick’s head without speaking. He made eye contact with her in the rear-view mirror, and smiled without speaking. He had a nice smile. It was awkward in the car for a moment until Helen spoke again.

You’re from Utah, right? she asked, turning in her seat so she could talk to Mary.

Yes, Salt Lake City, Mary said. Have you been there?

No. I haven’t been West of the Mississippi River. I’m from Tennessee. Nashville to be specific.

Have you been to the Grand Ole Opry?

Every year since I was six. I thought that’s where I would end up as a career. I like to sing and dance. I play guitar, but so does most of Tennessee.

Have you tried out?

I did, a couple of years ago, before I joined the CIA. The band leader was polite, but let me know I needed to take voice lessons if I wanted to sing or play in a serious band.

Was that discouraging, to try out and not make it? She thought about her dancing and cheerleader tryouts. She had never failed to make the cut when she tried, which had helped with her self-confidence. She had succeeded at everything she had tried, even winning a seventh-grade spelling bee. She hoped this wouldn’t be her first failure.

It hurt at first, Helen said. Then I got invited to interview with the CIA and my whole attitude changed.

Do you like working for the CIA? What do you do for them?

"I do like the work. Right now, my assignment is clerk typist. I type a hundred and twenty words a minute, accurately. I also get to run errands for them, like this, which allows me to see the bigger picture. I have analytical skills, too, so I’m hopeful that’s in my future. What are you going to do for them?"

I don’t know if I’ve been accepted yet. I have to take tests and training.

They’re putting you in the training program? That’s exciting. They only do that for people who have the potential to work overseas. You must be special. Will you be my friend? Helen laughed at her own humor and Mary joined in. Mrs. Slade chuckled politely. Rick smiled again.

I’d be honored to be your friend, Helen, Mary said. I still have to be tested, I guess, to see if I qualify for training.

I’m sure you’ll qualify. You look pretty smart to me.

Thank you. We’ll see, she said humbly.

Good... We’re here, she said as the car pulled into an underground garage. A roller door opened to let them in, then closed behind them. They took an elevator up one floor and entered a small glass-enclosed space between two doors—a vestibule. I’ll go in with you and leave you with the receptionist. Hopefully, I’ll see you again later and we’ll get you and your luggage to the hotel.

Helen entered a numeric code in a keypad on the inner door and the door clicked open. She pushed through and held it open for Mary and her mother to enter.

They were in a large reception area with a receptionist sitting at a desk behind a partition on their right. To the left was a row of red stacking plastic chairs against a wall. They checked in at the reception desk, where the receptionist, a middle-aged woman in a colorful dress, with tight, black curls and dark skin, looked up Mary’s name on a list and placed a call.

Please take a seat, she said when she ended the call, waving toward the row of chairs. Your guide will be here shortly. She promptly turned away and ignored Mary and her mom. Helen shook hands with both of them, gave Mary a brief, spontaneous hug, surprising her at its familiarity and intimacy—her first instinct was to push Helen away, since she didn’t like to be touched unless it was her idea—but the hug actually felt good and made her feel at home. She realized it was exactly what she needed to help her relax.

Then Helen walked away and passed through a door on their left, leaving them alone in the room. 

Mary

When Ollie showed up a few minutes later, hurrying over to them, he asked Mrs. Slade to remain seated and entertain herself while he took Mary inside to take her test. It would be several hours, so she should feel free to read, use her phone, or even take a nap. Before she walked away, Mary clutched her mom’s hand, then gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. Thanks for being here with me, she said.

Good luck, Mrs. Slade said, then waved as Mary walked away, following Ollie. Mrs. Slade picked up a magazine from a low table in front of the row of chairs and rifled through it, finding an article she wanted to read.

Ollie got Mary a visitor’s badge from the receptionist—he had to sign for it—then took her to a room where another woman signed her in and had her fill out an information sheet about herself. Then she handed Mary two lead pencils and a booklet that reminded her of a college exam. She was directed to a desk, one of four in the room, and told to complete the exam and return it to the woman. Ollie told her that he or his associate, Agent Hammer, would check on her in a couple of hours.

Please don’t wander, he said, and smiled reassuringly.

I’ll stay right here, she said. Then he walked away, leaving her with the test administrator.

When Ollie returned, she had her head tilted forward, concentrating on the page in front of her.

How are you doing? he asked when she looked up, alerted by his footsteps.

I’m on the last problem, she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, out of her face. I should be finished in a few minutes.

I’ll be back in a few minutes, then. He walked away, giving a nod to the woman at the desk, then returned a few minutes later. Mary had her head down, resting it on her folded arms, with her eyes closed, as if taking a nap. He spoke to the woman, who was in the process of reviewing Mary’s exam. Mary perked up when she realized he was there.

Excellent, the woman said a few moments later, writing something on the front of the exam booklet and handing it to Ollie.

That’s great, he said, looking at the comment and paging through the exam, reading bits and pieces of the things she had written.

Mary, he said to get her attention, will you follow me?

He led her from the room, still reading her comments.

How did I do? she asked, anxiously.

You did very well, he said, chuckling at something he’d just read in her exam booklet. You noticed that the questions were story problems—case studies, if you will. They’re scored based on your approach to solving the case. There’s no single right answer, so you don’t get a numbered score, like ninety-eight percent. You passed with high praise. Your instincts and analysis are good, one solution is quite creative.

She wanted to ask what he meant; if that’s what made him laugh, but didn’t know if questioning him would show disrespect. Now, we just need to convince your parents to let you continue, unless you want to continue without their permission.

I should talk to them, she said. What were you laughing about? Did I do something wrong?

Something wrong? Absolutely not. It’s refreshing to see the novel approach you took to solve this problem, is all.

His response gave her the courage to question him further. Which one? What was funny about it?

I said novel, not funny. To be honest, I’d like to see one of our agents try it. It might be fun to watch and see the outcome.

Can you tell me why it’s so novel?

Later. Right now, we need to get you to the psychologist, then we’ll return to your mother, so you can talk to her about the next step.

What’s the next step?

They entered the lobby then and Ollie walked over to her mother.

She’s finished the exam, Mrs. Slade, but if you’ll be okay here for a while longer, I’ll get her to the psychologist for her evaluation. If not, I’ll have you stay over an extra day.

I’m good, Mrs. Slade said. Take whatever time you need, she sat back down and pick the magazine back up that she was reading.

Thank you. It’s good to get this part out of the way now. It will save time later.

Helen, Ollie said, Will you stay with Mary while I confirm that the Doctor is ready for her?

Doctor? Mary asked Helen.

A psychologist. She’ll conduct your first psychological evaluation. Standard procedure.

Do you know what kind of evaluation it is?

"I think it’s just an interview, asking