When everyone was paid, Oscar pulled out dollar bills and passed out two to every one."Same time next week, Teacher," Oscar concluded before he turned his back and walked to the front towards his office.Brendan couldn't keep the grin from his face. Julio slapped him on the back in a good natured gesture of paycheck solidarity and started for the side door. The other two waited for Marisol and escorted her to the bus stop with the gravity of bodyguards in a dangerous neighborhood.Brendan peeled off two hundred dollars and handed them over to Sheila without asking. "Don't protest, Sheila. You guys need it and at least today, I can help."Sheila tucked the money in her bra and gave him a brief hug. She was still in her hospital scrubs, which were worn at the edges and bore faded stains that would never come clean."Tell Paulie I'm going out for a beer and looking for an easy lay."Brendan hid most of the money in a clean pair of socks in his small duffle knowing that tomorrow he would hit. I still wondered why it was so important to the agency to have a cafeteria and a chef on site. The agency was paying for that part and the restaurant would be open to the public. I guessed that there was some kind of cover story for that if anyone asked. There had to be some kind of gimmick, I was sure of that.We made our way down the hall where the meeting rooms were. There were four that were general meeting rooms that the public could reserve. Beyond that there were four more for JBG private meetings, behind one of those fancy red ropes on a brass fixture. A sign hung on the fancy rope (Area closed authorized personnel only). Moving past those rooms we came upon a door which had in front of it, another fancy red rope on a brass fixtute.I moved the fixture and we tried the door. The brass plate on the door was stamped (Department of Homeland Security Morton Field office); the door had one of the ID card readers installed on it."They are all locked on this end," My Dad replied then.
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