M.O.A.G.

Chapter 1
A New Man

James Edward Thomas worked at the Pentagon. His job was simply to analyze computer data from satellites and turn it into something the government could use. He was not a particularly handsome individual. He didn’t live in a big house, or drive a nice car. James wasn’t married, nor had he dated for several years. James, or Jim, as he assumed his friends would have called him if he had had any, wasn’t good at any sport or did he know anyone famous. Once when he was a young college boy he was engaged to a farm girl from New Mexico. Their relationship ended before they were to wed. Shortly thereafter James joined the Marine Corps, and worked 20 long years of his life to the rank of Sergeant. James’ Mother died only weeks after he joined the military, however he decided not to attend the funeral. His father had left when James was too young to remember. James never tried to contact him. James retired from the military at age 39 and began pursuing a degree in physics at MIT.
Frank Borgam met James in an elevator in Chicago, IL. They were the only two in the elevator when a terrorist bomb on the 10th floor exploded, sending the elevator and its two passengers plummeting from the third floor to the basement. Both of James’ legs were broken and his neck fractured. James Performed CPR on Frank and saved his life. Impressed by James, and after an extensive background check, Frank offered James a place in the CIA.
At age 46 and after a short recovery, James began his employment at the Pentagon. Every morning James woke up at 5:30. He dressed in a dress shirt and some nice slacks, combed his hair, ate his oatmeal, and drove 14 miles from his home in the suburbs to the Pentagon. Day in and day out he performed the same routine. Sometimes he would drive a different route just for a change of scenery. No one came to visit him at home or at work. Every morning he would walk through the same checkpoints, and every morning he would say his name the same. “Thomas, James E.” The guard would let him in and he would perform his scheduled duties. On his way home at night, James would stop at a local grocery store or super market and collect the items he would require for the next few days, or he would stop at the local bar. Sometimes he would drive to a Park and eat fast food on a bench. On occasion he would rent a movie or walk through a mall. James limited his contact with others. He rarely spoke unless spoken to and was very even tempered. Some might say he was out of touch with reality, or just a loner, however no one knew him well enough to make even an educated guess on what might be going on in his head. Truth be told, James was a thoughtful individual. His ideas pushed him along and made him as good at his job as anyone ever is. He was an enigma, an oddity. No family, friends, acquaintances, or even pets. He never did anything out of the ordinary. He was as nobody as anyone working in the Pentagon could ever be. He was perfect.
James went to work that day and did the things that were natural to him. He hung up his jacket in the same spot he always had. He ate his lunch at noon. He drank his apple juice, and even went to the bathroom at what could have been his scheduled time. He left work at 5:00 and drove to the store. He bought just the necessities and traveled home.
James exited his Nissan Sentra with his plastic grocery bag and walked to the front door of his two bedroom one bath, half of the duplex he lived in. He inserted the key and turned the lock. To his amusement the door was ajar. He wondered if he had left it this way that morning. He doubted it. He stepped into the living room and closed the door behind him. The TV was still there, as were the few other things that he owned. He walked into the kitchen and placed the bag on the counter. He put his keys on a hook next to the fridge and continued to his computer room. A quick glance revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Next, to his bedroom he discovered the same. He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook in the closet. Just as he began to turn around James noticed that two hangers were in the wrong spot. A shirt and a pair of slacks were absent. “Strange items to steal” he thought. Further inspection showed that a pair of shoes were also gone. James didn’t own a gun. Even if he had, it probably wouldn’t have crossed his mind. He walked slowly to the bathroom, the door was closed and the light was on. Someone must be in here, he thought. Curiously he opened the door. He was right, there was someone there, and he was looking him straight in the eye. A five foot ten inch man with brown hair, brown eyes and a slender face stared back at him. The man looked to be 48 years old and at first James thought he was looking into a mirror. He was even wearing his clothes. Although this was not a normal occurrence, James was not surprised, he was however, quite perplexed.
“Who are you?” James finally stammered.
“Who do I look like you idiot.” The man more stated than asked. James’ mind raced. Who was this and why did he look just like him?

Obviously the Pic has nothing to do with the story, I just thought it was cool.