A large box sat empty in the locker room, the place where the men punch in, and change out of their regular clothes and into their paint stained work ones, and where they sit and not eat peanut butter because it’s been outlawed. Eat your peanut butter on your own time. Not here, not ever. Christmas was approaching, Kaiser’s least favorite time of year, a reminder of that snot nosed little baby he helped deliver in that smelly manger, only to grow up and teach the word of God, little insignificant nothing should have been spreading the gospel of Kaiser. Ungrateful humans. All the things JC did, Kaiser had done long before, and better, of course. 

The box was slowly filling up with toys for less fortunate children, in participation with some well known charity, and like most acts of charity it was disingenuous and more self fulfilling than actually out of the kindness of one’s heart. Kaiser organized the toy drive so he could tell everyone and anyone who listened how very charitable he was. You know, doing his part for the greater good. Wink. It was for the optic and the credit, like when celebrities do something seemingly selfless conveniently in front of a camera crew. Most people don’t do nice things for others merely for the sake of doing something nice. That’s a human flaw. 

Kaiser put his ear to the door praying he might hear a bit of mutiny, some shit talking or a bit of incriminating information he could use against the workers. Certainly Kaiser had his rats in place, his weak stool pigeons ready to backstab their coworkers for a pat on the head, but it was more satisfying for Kaiser to catch them red handed. 

He listened and heard nothing. Kaiser harrumphed, and then checked the lock. No one was there, he thought. He looked at his watch. The shift didn’t start for another hour and a half. If only he could fire them all and replace them with nothing but the most elite military soldiers, hand picked from each branch’s special operations, the best of the best. Navy Seals. Green Berets. Delta Force. Painting is where their specific capabilities would be best utilized. Painting is where their expertise is most needed. Navy seals. Are you ready for your next mission? Get a roller and an eight inch sleeve and show me what you got. If only the Agency had those employees with that skill set. Kaiser slowly brought his right hand down and patted his hip, where his firearm should have been, the disgust welled within him. His request for a service revolver and sirens for his company pick up were declined, and Kaiser has never forgiven the higher ups for limiting him. 

Kaiser slowly turned the lock, and opened the door in a burst. Eureka. No one was there, nor was the box of presents. After a moment of contemplation, his frowning mug wrenched itself deeper, “Thieving sons of bitches. Scumbag pieces of shit.”

The sparse steel wool sprouting from the top of his head stood upright with anger, a warning sign, like a housecat puffing up his tail or a cornered cobra rearing up and spreading his hood wide. Kaiser hissed and spat. He thought for a second about the contact numbers of law enforcement officers and intelligence agents he had at his fingertips, he reckoned it would take him more time to teach them how to do their job than if he just solved the mystery himself. 

First things first, a locksmith. As the men strolled in for their shift, they were met with accusations and commanded to hand over their keys, not that they were of any use now that a new lock was installed, but it was a punishment as most things with the Agency was. Each one of the men, including Owen, denied any involvement in the disappearance of the toys. Kaiser didn’t believe a word the underlings said, and hurled insults and a bevy of threats as to what fate will become the culprits once they are apprehended. “You will beg for a quick death.”

“None of you will receive a key to this door. From now on you will wait patiently until I let you inside since none of you can be trusted.” The men took offense, but Kaiser is not a man you can reason with, so many tended to take their complaints to the Director. Kaiser’s phone rang, he didn’t recognize the number, could be a federal agent, he assumed the word was out, “I need to take this.” He raised an index finger to his mouth to silence the men. “Kaiser here. Who’s this? Oh. Hello. Oh, you got them. Good. I’m happy to help. Yes. yes. Glad to do our part. Yes. You too. And have a happy, merry and blessed christmas.”

The charity was let in by a custodian and they picked up the presents. The presents were not stolen. They were in the right hands after all. Kaiser said nothing to the men and walked out of the shop. No culpability. No apologies. Nothing. The lack of respect for his subordinates was insurmountable, and only matched in his inefficacy in his position and title. While Kaiser never participated in a toy drive again, he also never showed an ounce of remorse, which gained him no favor from the accused.