Chapter 15- part 1

Chapter 15 is a very long chapter. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it all tomorrow, so I thought about posting it all tonight. Except that I am too tired, so, here is Chapter 15 part 1. Chapter 15 part 2 will be posted by 6 pm Friday night.


CHAPTER 15

Jon let out a deep breath as he settled into the passenger seat of Kate’s car. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the pain his face was in. Kate was trailing a few seconds behind him. Jon could hear as she got into the car and put the key in the ignition. What he didn’t hear was the engine turn over. After about a minute, Jon opened his eyes again.
“Your car okay?” he asked.
“My car is fine. I’m more worried about my agent.”
“Why are you worried about me? I’m fine. I just hate Hobbs with the searing white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t hate me with the searing white hot intensity of TWO thousand suns.”
“You have already almost gotten killed several times this week and it’s only Wednesday. I just worry about you. My job is to keep you safe.”
“Was it safe for you when you went to high school?”
“What do you mean?”
“High school. You know, that big building where a bunch of obnoxious teenagers hang out between seven and three every day from September until May? You know, high school.”
“Safe? I’m not quite-“
“Kate, this is my high school experience. Hobbs and I have hated each other for so long, I can’t even imagine having a life where I don’t have an evil nemesis lurking in the halls of my education building. Hobbs is a dumbass jock. Always was, always will be. I would be amazingly surprised if, by the time the ten year high school reunion rolls around, he hasn’t flunked out of college, gone on with an NBA team, been traded at least five times, then fired with no other team wanting him, come back to Salt Lake, live off the fact that he was a bench warmer for a few years, own a car dealership, and go home and get drunk every night and beat his soon to be ex-wife and kids before drifting into la-la land. The only reason that today had anything to do with the Agency is that they put me in the same gym as Hobbs. That’s it. Otherwise, this was just part of my own personal hell which is high school.”
Kate looked at her protégé with a look that Jon couldn’t quite read.
“What? Do I still have blood somewhere on my face?” he asked.
“No. You’re fine. I was just wondering, how does a teenager already have so much of a look forward attitude on life?”
Jon was almost embarrassed by the question. “You’re acting like I’m Yoda or something. I’m not, Kate. I was just a painfully geeky elementary school student eight years ago.”
Kate smiled. “Eight years ago? That would put you in fourth grade!”
“Yes it was. Fourth grade. You know how in kindergarten you start making friends at school? You get a sense of the kids you like to play with and the kids you don’t?” Kate nodded. “Boys of course don’t play with girls ‘cause they’re yucky. And vice versa, I’m sure. So, you have these boys that you play with, and little by little you feel more comfortable with some than with others. Either you like the same colors, games, books, whatever. So, that’s what happened to me, Stan, and Greg. I met Stan in kindergarten and Greg in second grade. We just had an almost immediate bond for some weird reason.
Stan and I were inseparable in kindergarten and first grade. Then, on the first day of second grade we were put into a table with Greg and three other kids. We never clicked with the other three, but we hit it off with Greg immediately. So, we were in the same class in third grade, too. But then, the unthinkable of elementary school happened. They were in the same fourth grade class, and I was in a different one. I cried the whole day before starting fourth grade because I wasn’t going to be with my friends.”
Kate’s face turned into a slightly bemused look of sadness.
“So, the next day came and I walked to school with them, but when the first bell rang, we parted ways. I vividly remember watching them disappear into their class before I went into mine. So, the first day of fourth grade, I was put into a table with five other kids who I knew, but never really liked. Two of them, Scott Sandberg and John Mackay were even in my neighborhood, but I never played with them. During class, they would do the stupid things that kids do. Take your pencil for thirty minutes at a time and then return it when you finally went to tell your teacher, punch you in the back all the way down the hall to the lunchroom until you turned and hit them back, and then you got into trouble, all those things. At recess, even though I was with Stan and Greg there, they would run by and call me four eyes because of my glasses. Normal kid stuff.”
“Normal, but thoroughly pathetic. Why can’t kids just be nice to kids?” Then, in quick, slightly different tone, she asked, “Do you mind if I turn on the heater?”
“Go for it. I’m a little cold myself.”
Kate did so, and the car rumbled to life. “Please, continue.”
“Where was I?”
“They were mocking you at recess, and lunch.”
Jon found his story foothold again. “Right. But it really started getting on my nerves when I started wearing a Legendof the Lone Ranger shirt to school and they would just mock me for liking movies and that movie in particular. For about a two-week period, I had knots in my stomach every day as I woke up. I played sick for two days in a row, but quit when I heard my parents talking about taking me to the doctor the next day if I wasn’t feeling better. Then, one day, they were teasing me as we were walking down the hall to go to the library and I had a flash of lightning go through my brain. The thought that came was- these guys are jerks. Who cares what they think? I like it. I am who I am, I like who I am, and that was that. Simple. I ignored them and never once thought about the whole peer pressure thing again Stan, Greg, and I just did what we wanted and never looked back. We were also never separated again after that. When we got into junior high and high school, sure there are classes that we don’t have together, but we have the same lunches, lockers next to each other, so .it all works out.”
Kate slowly shook her head. “You three are like one in a million. Or, three in three million. You know what I mean?”
“Yea. I do.”
“Keep it up, Jon. You’re going to go far.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, we need to get you home to get ready for your big date!”
“Kate-“ Jon warned.
“Don’t you worry. We’ll make it.” Kate screeched her tires as she pulled out of the parking space.



“Remind me what you’re doing here, again?” Jon asked.
“I am here to make sure that you are ready for this,” Kate replied.
Jon walked back into his bedroom, barefoot, but with a pair of khaki pants on and an unbuttoned polo shirt. “Ready for what? My date?”
“There are many things that you need to be ready for tonight.”
“Like what? Is an assassin going to follow me and try to kill me?”
“Possibility, but you present no threat at the moment. There is no reason for someone to do that to you yet.”
“Yet?”
“Don’t forget, Jon, you are going up against killers, here. You saw what they could do last night.”
Jon stopped dead in his tracks. “Thank you, Miss Thompson, for bringing a ray of sunshine into this dreary day!”
“I’m just being honest here! It is a distinct possibility that after tomorrow or so, you could have a tail on you. I just want you to be prepared for that!”
“I can be prepared, but how about if we don’t start talking about it until after my first date with Aleisha, please? I would like to worry most about what to do at the end of the date with her, thank you very much. Let THAT be on my mind for the next few hours, and then I can start thinking about the yakuza hit squad on my ass!”
“Sorry I even brought it up!”
Jon nodded. “Thank you. Now,” he said, turning his attention to even greater matters, “what shoes should I wear?”
Kate looked at Jon’s pathetic assortment of shoes. “I would definitely go with the shiny black pair. Your church shoes?”
“If you’ve been following me, you know I don’t go to church.”
“You went once.”
“When?”
“The end of May, I believe?”
Jon made a buzzing noise. “Nope! Wrong! That was a funeral. I went to A church, not TO church.”
“My mistake. How about your funeral shoes?”
“Is that a slight reference to the fact that you think I’m going to choke tonight?”
“No, Jon, that was a reference to the fact that you just told me you went to a funeral a few months ago and I assume these are the shoes you wore. Believe it or not, I followed you and took note of your actions, not your wardrobe.”
“Probably wouldn’t have the job if you were counting fashion points against me.”
“Probably not.” Kate picked up his shiny black shoes from the floor.
“You weren’t supposed to agree with me on that one.”
“Not my fault if you are a fashion victim.”
“I seem to remember that you gave me a gun this morning, Kate. Seems like I have yet to test it out.” Jon smirked.
“I just tell the truth, Jon. That’s it. No need to kill the messenger.” She paused. “Literally.”
Jon grabbed the shoes out of Kate’s hands, sat down on the edge of the bed, and started putting on his shoes.
Kate let silence linger for a moment before she asked Jon the next question. “So, since you brought it up, what are you going to do at the end of the date?”
Jon looked up. “Remind me what you’re doing here again?”
Kate got a fake disappointed look on her face. “Honestly! I’m here to help you.”
“Thank you. I know that. You’re here as my official Agency trainer. I think we’ve been over this before. You are not my mother. You are not my sister. You are not my girlfriend. You are not my sex adviser. You are my Agency Trainer! Nothing more!”
“You’re right. I am your Agency Trainer, but an Agent has to be a happy Agent in order to be a successful Agent.”
“What? Is that in your Agent training handbook?”
“It’s true! Think about it! In anything in life! You said it yourself earlier when you were talking about those kids who picked on you. You took two days off from school sick just because you didn’t want to face them, right?”
“Yes. So?”
“So? It works in the real world, too, Jon. Whether you are a student, a construction worker, a paper pusher, or a fry cook, you will do your best work when you feel you are successful in all the other areas of your life. When your mind is not occupied by thinking about a bill that needs to be paid, a girl you should’ve called, or a joke you shouldn’t have played on the boss, your mind is more open to thinking about your job while you are doing it. It’s basic human psychology.”
“So, you’re telling me that if I have a good night tonight, then I won’t be so concerned about my face hurting and having to face Hobbs tomorrow?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Okay, fine. You want to help me?”
Kate nodded.
“How about you tell me where I should take her for dinner?”
“Where do you like to go?”
“I’m a food guy. As long as there is food, I will eat it.”
“What does she like?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if you find out and then you can decide?”
“I don’t want her to think that I am unprepared guy!”
“Unprepared guy?”
“While I was at the barber, there were no good magazines, so I read Cosmo.”
Kate laughed. “What kind of barber has Cosmo?”
“Okay, not a barber. I went to one of those Great Clips type places and they have Cosmo, okay?”
“Are you telling me that you actually pay someone to give you that haircut?” John glowered at Kate. “So, sorry. Continue.”
“ So, I was reading this article and it said that one of the top five girl’s pet peeves is an unprepared guy on a date. They don’t know where to go eat, what movie to see, what club to go dancing at-“
“You? Dance?”
“I was using it as an example! But, anyway, I don’t want her to think that I have put no thought into the date!”
“Jon, I honestly don’t think she’s going to care! I don’t know Aleisha, but I don’t think it matters where you take her! I think it matters that you are going to be the one who is taking her!”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You are completely hopeless! Do you realize that?”
“What do you mean, Kate?”
“Like I said, I don’t know her, but every single indication that she has given you, both verbally and physically, is that she likes you already. She wants to be able to go out on a date with you. You could take her to the city dump and as long as she was with you, she would enjoy it.”
“Well, I would have to keep the conversation going. I would have to make her laugh, at the very least, to enjoy a date like that.”
“You do make her laugh!”
“Way to help build me up here, Kate!”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I mean, she enjoys you. You just need to go and be yourself. If you can do that, women forgive a lot!”
“How do you know that?”
“Excuse me, Jon, but have you looked at me recently? Believe it or not, I am of the female gender.”
Jon shook this sarcastic remark off. “Not what I meant and you know it.”
“Let me tell you a little secret truth about women, Jon. Actually, let me tell you a little secret truth about women that you want to date and spend time with. They want a guy that they like. That’s it. That’s the simple mystery of women. There are women who just like the so-called bad boys, but those aren’t women that you want to date and spend time with. Those are women that you would use for sex and move on.”
“Kate, I’m in drama club, remember? I haven’t had the chance for sex yet.”
“Believe it or not, Jon. You have and you missed it, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Jon put up his finger to get Kate to explain, but she pushed ahead.
“Men and women are alike in more ways than they are different. Some men and women just want conquests. Some men and women just want friends. But, for the most parts, men and women are looking for companions for life. Men and women don’t get married to get divorced. That happens because they are no longer what the other thought they once were. If they could be themselves and communicate better, the divorce rate would drop like a stone
Men and women want companions to spend time with. They want people who don’t lie, who are honest and respectful. They want someone that shares the same qualities and interests. They want someone who can laugh with them, not at them. They want someone who can talk with them about anything and know that their viewpoint is heard and validated. They want someone that they feel comfortable with and around. They want someone who is not rude, who is generous, and has the same outlook on life as they have. That’s all it takes. Women will forgive lulls in conversation, the awkward time of trying to decide what restaurant to eat at, and which movie to see, if the guy is himself.”
“That sounds awful hard.”
“It can be, but it doesn’t have to be. Just be yourself, Jon and the rest will follow. If Aleisha likes you for who you are, then all the little things will slide by. If she doesn’t like you for who you are, then she isn’t someone that you want to waste your time with.”
Jon thought about that. Then, he stood up and gave Kate a hug. “Thank you.”
Kate was shocked by Jon’s physicality. Not by the hug, but because it seemed so natural. She couldn’t tell if she was happy or distracted by it. Was the relationship becoming too far away from a trainer-trainee relationship? Was this a romantic hug or a hug of pure friendship? Kate hugged him back.
The two of them stood in a silent embrace for what seemed to be an eternity for Kate, as her thoughts were swirling in her head. In reality, only a few scant seconds had passed before Jon loosened his grip on her, but it must have been, in Kate’s mind, at least an hour.
“Thank you,” Jon repeated.
“You’re welcome.” Kate’s face was a healthy shade of red.
Jon took a breath, as if to say something, but then released it quickly.
“What’s up, Jon?”
“I am going to be myself, Kate. I promise. I believe you when you say that that is all it takes to win a girl’s heart. But that still doesn’t change the fact that I can barely sustain a single coherent thought.”
“Why does it seem to me like you are going to ask me for something?”
“Because you’re my trainer and you have been following me and you know me better than I know myself.”
Kate closed her eyes and braced for what she knew was going to be the next words out of Jon’s mouth.
“What do you need, Jon?”
“You bugged the place yesterday, didn’t you?”
Kate started shaking her head. “No, Jon. I refuse. I will not-“
“You bugged it. You were the one. I know you were! I’ll wear a wire-“
Kate was shaking her head vigorously now. “No, Jon! Absolutely positively not!”
“You are a girl, so you can help me with the tough stuff. I won’t need you all night, just a time or two.”
“Absolutely not, Jon! I won’t help you-“
“You are going to be following me, I know you will be.”
“This is crazy! How well did it work for Cyrano? It didn’t!”
“Kate, I won’t try to impress her. I won’t try to be someone I’m not-“
Kate turned away from Jon and put her hands to her ears.
“Jon, you are not going to convince me on this! I am no longer listening to you!” She walked out of Jon’s room and down the hall.
“That is so childish, Kate! You look like a fool.” Jon followed after her.
“Who looks like a fool? Do you realize what will happen if Aleisha finds out? Do you? All that trust that you have built up with her will go kablooie, Jon! It’s not worth it! Just be yourself and you’ll be fine!”
“I just need a safety net, Kate! I* would feel a lot better if you could coach me along.”
“You are seventeen years old, Jon! You don’t need a chaperone!”
“You’re right! I don’t need a chaperone. You’re right! I need a friend.”
This caught Kate’s attention.
“I’m asking as a friend, Kate. You said that if an Agent feels successful, he could keep his mind on the job. If I have you giving me encouragement, telling me all the faux pas and when I do something well, I can keep my attention on being myself. You know how women think, so you can help me by giving me a play-by-play and know if I’m doing well.” He paused and stared at Kate’s deep blue eyes. “Please. As a friend?”


Jon walked up to Aleisha’s house, hands deep in his heavy winter coat pockets, staring at his shiny shoes. “This is so weird. Monday I never would have believed that I would have a date with Aleisha Madsen a scant two days later.” Jon noticed the puffs of breath that were hanging in the wintry air.
“Believe it, pal,” came Kate’s reply in his earpiece.
Jon paused before knocking. “Here we go!”
“You’re going to do fine, Jon. Do we really need to continue this?”
Jon ignored her and gave the door three loud raps. While waiting, he moved the tiny earpiece around, just finding a more comfortable fit.
Jon almost accidentally yanked the earpiece out as Aleisha opened the door. He visibly jumped.
“Did I scare ya?” Aleisha asked with a devilish grin.
“A bit,” Jon admitted. “Are you ready?”
“Let me grab my coat.”
As she reached into the closet behind her, Jon noticed how easy she made the whole date thing look. She was wearing a tan pair of slacks, a simple brown pull over sweater and slip on black flats. She probably had agonized over what to wear for about the same amount of time as he had, but it seemed like she had just found the outfit and put it on very casually. Aleisha grabbed a navy blue jacket and exited her house.
“I’ll be home about ten!” she called back to her parents.
“See you then, dear!” the deep bass voice of her father carried through the door.
Jon stepped back as Aleisha shut the door to her house.
“You’re not going to need more than that jacket? It’s pretty cold out here.”
“I’ll be fine,” Aleisha reassured him.
Jon’s lungs tightened up as he took a deep breath of the icy air. “So, where to for dinner?”
“Anywhere is fine with me.”
They reached Jon’s car and Jon opened the door for Aleisha. “What kind of food do you like?”
“Italian sounds good tonight,” Aleisha answered as she settled into the passenger seat.
“Sounds good to me, too.” Jon shut the door. As he went around the car, he whispered into his lapel. “Good Italian place in the area?”
“I like Italian Village, myself.” Kate’s voice crackled.
“How about Italian Village?” Jon asked as he climbed into his seat.
Aleisha smiled a smile that would light up a thousand-watt bulb. “Never been, but it sounds great!”
“Good!” Jon smiled back at her. “Now, if I could only remember how exactly to get there,” Jon said aloud.
Aleisha’s brow crinkled as she looked sideways at Jon.
“Go to 45th south and go east until 9th.” Kate whispered directions in Jon’s ear.
“Silly me, I should’ve remembered that it was on 45th,” Jon smiled at Aleisha as he turned to key to bring the car to life.
“Have I ever told you that you make you laugh, Jon?” Aleisha asked.
“I think that’s a first.”
“You make me laugh,” Aleisha repeated.
“That’s a good sign, Jon,” Kate told him.
Jon put the car in gear and headed out of Aleisha’s neighborhood.
Kate waited until they had turned the corner and headed out onto the main road before she started her car. Since the wire had a range of a mile and a half and she knew where they were going, she didn’t need to follow too close behind.
There was only the noise of the car engine in Kate’s ear.
“Say something, Jon. Women like to know that they have someone who can start conversations,” Kate prodded.
“So, how was school today?” Jon asked.
“It was a little strange.” Aleisha looked at Jon over the shoulder of her jacket. “Why weren’t you there?”
Three sentences into the date and Jon was already trapped and needing an escape route out of the conversation.
“You had to help a friend. You can tell her that much, Jon,” Kate helped.
“I had to help a friend. Stan, my friend. You know Stan, right?”
Aleisha nodded. “Yes. Yes I do.”
“I helped him. He needed help.”
“So I gather.”
“Calm down, Jon,” Kate whispered in his ear, “you do fine at a diner table with a man who may be a double agent, you can handle this girl. Just take a few deep breaths and keep talking.”
“Are you feeling better after yesterday? Your face looks even more bruised today than it did yesterday.”
“I’m still hurting. I’m stiff, but I’m okay. My face hurts a lot more, but it’s just bruising. It’ll go away. Fact is, I haven’t even thought about it since I picked you up.” Jon wanted to get the conversation onto safe ground as soon as possible. Keep it away from Agency speak. “Anything exciting happen today?” Jon asked, putting the pressure of the conversation back on Aleisha.
“No one could talk about anything other than Jake Spencer.”
“I heard about that.”
“Careful, Jon,” Kate cautioned.
“He and another kid were shot and killed over at that Arctic Circle just down the road. It even happened while we were in the talent show!” Aleisha reported.
“I know. That’s what I was doing today, too. Jake was on the basketball team and Stan knew him. It hit him pretty hard.”
“I can imagine. Did you know him at all?”
“Jake? Not really. Stan talked about him a bit, and I knew him to say hi in the halls, but that was it.”
“He was in my English class last year. He was a lot like Stan. Not the myth of the dumb jock at all. Very smart, very witty, and quite a nice guy.”
“Did you date him?”
“No. I thought about it a time or two, but I never did anything about it. Then, he hooked up with Mandy Jensen, and he was never as attractive after that.”
“She can be a real brat sometimes, can’t she?”
“Jon, I’m not a fragile flower, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can call her a bitch if you want. It doesn’t offend me. In fact, I’d probably agree with it.”
“Okay.” Jon took a deep breath. “She can be a real bitch sometimes, can’t she?”
Aleisha smiled. “You know it.”
“Once I had a class with Mandy and she actually asked the teacher if the United States was friendly with the country of Alaska.”
Aleisha laughed heartily, and Kate gave a snort in Jon’s ear.
“I mocked her, of course, and it wasn’t long after that that my house was toilet papered. No doubt in my mind who did that job,” Jon added.
“She was in my gym class two years ago,” Aleisha offered. “After she made it on the cheerleading squad, she actually took money from the class if they thought our team would win or lose the next game.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. We were in the locker room, and she would keep her tally of who owed her what on the inside of the locker door.”
“How much was she making?”
“Not much. The girls would only bet a quarter or so. Probably only five bucks a week, but that would buy two diet Cokes a day.”
“So, she doesn’t know Alaska is part of the Union, but she has the math skills to be a bookie? That’s an interesting trade-off.”
“They say that some of the dumbest people are some of the smartest and vice versa.”
“Take a look at Mrs. Perry. That proves that theory.”
“Speaking of which, why does she have it in for you, Jon?”
“I had her last year. My parents wanted me to be in accelerated English, but I took Humanities instead. I was lucky and got put in the dumb class.”
“Really?”
“Not really, but kind’ve. Some of my other drama friends were in the class, but there were also cheerleaders and other jocks. Mandy was there, come to think of it. Anyway, all of my friends were in one corner of the room, and the rest of the class were dumbshits. So, Mrs. Perry knew the majority of the students were idiots, so she taught the class like it was a first grade class. So, to make it interesting, I was the class clown. I would crack jokes that only our corner would get.”
“For example?”
“We were talking about Greek and Roman architecture and one of them builds that scene of top of the columns. You know, they have a real elongated triangle that spans over several columns and there’s a scene in it?”
“Oh, yes, okay. I know what you mean.”
“So, those are called friezes. So, Mrs. Perry asks if anyone knows what a frieze is. She becomes like that teacher in Ferris Bueller, you know? “ Jon imitated Perry. “Frieze? Frieze? Does anyone know what a frieze is?” He dropped the funny voice. “ So, no one is raising their hand in the rest of the class and our corner could answer but, I think, everyone else was asleep by that point. So, I just started singing. Frieze a jolly good fellow, frieze a jolly good fellow, frieze a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny.”
Aleisha laughed, and Jon was sure that he could hear Kate crack a smile on the other end.
“So, “ Jon continued, “she got so upset at me, that she made me do forty pages of book busy work by putting commas in the right places, and quotation marks here and there, and just a lot of that crap. It was easy, just a lot of it. So, I turned it in the next day, and she was livid! She thought it would take me a week or so to finish it, and it’s almost like she’s had me on her list ever since.”
“You really can be a smart-ass, can’t you, Jon?”
“Can be.”
Again, a silence cast itself over the car, but this time, there was no trepidation in it. It was a comfortable silence. They drove several blocks without saying a word.
“You okay up there, Jon?” Kate asked. “Still breathing?”
Jon began to speak as a yes to Kate’s question.
“Aleisha, may I ask you a question?”
“Isn’t asking if you can ask me a question a question in and of itself?”
Jon didn’t have a response, which caused Aleisha to laugh.
“She got you there,” Kate told him.
“I suppose it is, yes,” Jon finally replied.
“Then, I give you permission to ask as many questions as you want of me during the entire night, so you can stop asking if you can ask me a question.”
“Fair enough. Anyways, For my original query-“
Aleisha knew she had Jon over a barrel and was enjoying his nervousness and lack of response. “We’ve known each other so long, Jon, I don’t know if I can remember your original query.” Aleisha was beaming by this point.
“You got me. Okay, you got me. I’m just not going to even try to dig myself out of this one. I’ll just shut my mouth now, and drive.”
Aleisha could also tell that Jon was not serious about this, but she played along. “Fine,” she answered with a devilish glint in her eye.
“Oh, come on!” Jon pretended to be in a rage. “You’re supposed to beg me to be in a talkative mood or something, aren’t you?”
“I won’t beg, but I am curious what you were going to ask me.”
Kate could almost hear the sweat break out on Jon’s brow.
“I was just wondering if you’ve been waiting for me to ask you out for very long?”
Aleisha broke eye contact with him and looked down at the floor for a moment before re-engaging eye contact. “I wouldn’t use the word waiting, but I was hoping. I’ve always liked you, Jon.”
“Me too.”
Aleisha’s eyes lit up. “What an arrogant thing to say, Narcissus!”
Jon smiled and put up his finger. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”
Aleisha stopped the feistiness and grabbed Jon’s finger out of the air. “I know.” She brought Jon’s hand down to the seat and held it tightly.
Kate heard a satisfied sigh from Jon followed by several minutes of a nice silence. Kate didn’t get the feel of grasping for straws for conversation, just that it had taken a deserved break.

chapter 14

Today has been a long one at work. I have another long day tomorrow, so I decided to post Chapter 14 now. Enjoy!


CHAPTER 14


Jon’s watch beeped one o’clock straight up as he walked into the drab, slightly dark gymnasium He had been in his school’s gym many times, for games, assemblies, and even for his own gym class, and he had the same reaction this time. It was a place he didn’t like, despised actually, and all he could smell was the pungent odor of stale perspiration.
Jon was carrying his gym bag. Inside was a new set of clothes, since his other gym clothes were dripping in sweat and there had been no time to clean them, a towel, a first aid pack, an Ace bandage, and, of course, his gun. That, however, was wrapped tight in one of the extra towels in the bag.
The sound of basketballs bouncing, hands clapping, balls hitting nets, nets being ruffled as balls went through, and loud trash talking reached his ear almost immediately.
On the far end of the gym was the coach, Norman Malone. He was the quintessential gym teacher. He was just a hair over five feet, weighed about 200 lbs., and had the worst comb over this side of the Mississippi. Jon walked over to introduce himself.
“Hi, Coach. I’m Jonathan Mills.”
Coach took a step back and looked straight up at Jon and looked him in the eye. “You are lucky, Mr. Mills. I’ve heard about you. I know you’re not one of us. I know that you are more of a drama guy. That’s right. I saw you last night. You think you can impress me with that horse shit? It doesn’t take a man to do that! Any wuss can do that. It takes a man to be able to stare down his opponent, to beat him into submission, and make him cry Uncle! You just play the tinkly little piano. Big whoop, son! But, for some reason you’re friends with one of my guys, and I’m being ramrodded by the parents and the administration to take your sorry little ass on until after the big game on Saturday. Trust me, I’ll work you hard the next few days, but you’ll just be a bench warmer on Saturday. That you can guarantee.”
“Okay, sir, if that’s how you feel,” Jon started.
“Of course it’s how I feel! I wouldn’t have wasted all that breath on you if I was just pretending! Now, go on and get changed! We’ll be playing two on two for two hours. I want to watch you play.”
Jon could feel the anger welling up inside of him. If he had been Bruce Banner, his eyes would have at least turned green by now, but, knowing that he had a job to do, he held his tongue.
“Who will I be playing with, sir?”
“Your partner will be your friend, Stan. If he’s going to recommend you, he’s going to be the one stuck with you.”
Jon felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. At least he’d have Stan to get his feet wet. “And who will we be playing against?”
“Hobbs and Bernard,” was the reply and the coach walked away.
The weight that had been lifted momentarily slammed back down on Jon’s shoulders. Jason Hobbs and Jason Bernard were the twin terrors of the team. They were amazing players, but off the court, they were as good as juvenile delinquents. The only reason they weren’t in juvy hall by now was because they were the main defensive guards on the team.
The two of them had played together for the last six years. They played on both the junior high and the high school teams since the beginning. The school’s nickname for them was Jason squared. They never left each other’s side. They were always together.
Hobbs was number 34. He was six foot seven, close to three hundred pounds and had one of the biggest noses Jon had ever seen on a white man.
Hobbs had been one of Jon’s mother’s students many years ago. He had been a holy terror in Kindergarten, too. Hobbs would attack the smallest kids on the playground for the first two weeks of school to scare them into giving him their lunch money. Then, a Tongan named Lino had transferred in. Then, it was Hobbs getting beaten up every day for a month. None of the teachers did anything about it because they knew Hobbs was going to be trouble.
Seven years later, when Jon was in seventh grade, Hobbs had been in his woodworking class with him. Hobbs would walk by when Jon was sanding something and make Jon take too much off of one side, get a knuckle against the belt sander, basically terrorize him. That lasted for one term.
Luckily, at the beginning of second term, who should be transferred into the class but Lino! Jon still had to take a few weeks of being picked on, but as soon as Lino found out that Jon was his Kindergarten teacher’s son, all problems with Hobbs stopped. Jason hadn’t come to school for a whole week after that and rumor had it that he’d been put into a coma by Lino even though that had never been proven.
Unfortunately, Lino had moved back to Tonga two years ago, and Hobbs had never forgiven Jon for the beating he had taken. Now, it seemed like a good time for Hobbs to get his revenge.
Jason Bernard was not as large and intimidating as Hobbs, but he had the attitude to make it not matter. Hobbs was the monster bruiser while Bernard was the slimy weasel of the group. Instead of clobbering you, Bernard would take your homework when you weren’t looking, copy it, and turn his in on time and slip yours back to you two days later so you got marked down. Hobbs was the dumbheaded muscle, Bernard was the brain.
Bernard was number 43 and was the master of the dirty play on the team. He stood six feet one inch, weighed in at only one hundred and eighty pounds and had a gaunt look to him, but anyone who had gone against him on the court knew that looks could be deceiving.
Jon headed into the locker room and changed. Knowing he was going to be facing Jason Hobbs, Jon had to make a mental note to leave the gym bag, and the gun, in a locker.
Stan was waiting for him when he emerged.
“You heard the bad news yet, Jon?”
“I heard,” Jon sighed.
“Whatever happens, just blow Hobbs off. Watch your back for Bernard, but just play the game. Concentrate on what you’ve learned and don’t let them frazzle you.”
“Okay. You got my back?”
“Yes I do.” Stan gave Jon the thumbs up. “We can take them.”
Coach Malone blew his whistle. All of the players gathered around him.
“As you know, there was a tragedy that happened last night. Jake Spencer was shot and killed while working at his job at Arctic Circle. We have a replacement for the next few games brought in by our own Stan Ingle. His name is Jonathan Mills. I’m sure most of you have at least heard of him. He frequents the other side of the school, namely the arts department, and Stan assures us that he can at least fill the hole in our team for the next few days.”
Jon leaned over to Stan. “Is he always this sentimental?” Jon cracked.
“Believe it or not, this really is him being sad and sentimental.”
“I believe the mental part.”
“Now-,” Coach continued, “for the next two hours you will all be playing two on two. I have already assigned teams. I want to see blood, sweat, and tears on these courts today! I want to see rivers flowing down each court. There will be no timeouts, no pauses. If there is a dead ball, it gets thrown back in immediately and play resumes. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir!” the team shouted.
“Good! If you have to take a shit, then take one. Just don’t leave the court! If there’s blood, just make sure you don’t step in it until it dries! No autopsy, no foul! The winners of each game get a fifteen-minute break at three o’clock! The losers run laps for fifteen minutes! Do you understand?”
“Yes sir!” the team shouted again.
Coach blew his whistle at full volume. “Then, begin play!”
The whistle almost deafened Jon, but he didn’t notice that until he was already on the floor.
“What the hell was that for?” Stan yelled as he walked up to Hobbs.
“It’s playin’ time! No autopsy, no foul.” Hobbs said in his dumb jock voice.
“Mills didn’t do anything!”
“My point exactly! It’s playin’ time! He needs to get his ass moving! He was in my way!”
Stan offered his hand down to Jon, who accepted and was pulled back onto his feet. Jon was deafened once again by Coach’s whistle.
“I thought we all had an understanding! Let’s play some goddamned ball!” Coach yelled. He tossed the ball to Bernard and Jason Squared started walking to their court.
“You okay, Jon?” Stan asked as they followed a pace or two behind.
“Right now, yes. Ask me again in two hours.”
“Nickel’s worth of free advice?”
“Please.”
“If they dish it out, give it right back to them.”
“Gotcha,” Jon responded as he watched Hobbs put up a swooshing three point shot.
Bernard grabbed the ball as it fell through. He walked over to Mills and went toe-to-toe.
“Three,” he enunciated as he threw the ball as hard as he could at Jon’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.
“Wow,” Jon gasped for air; “he can count, too? When did that happen?” Stan grinned as his friend straightened up after the cheap shot. Jon noticed he was out of bounds and passed the ball in to Stan and the game began.
Stan took the ball to the backcourt. He dribbled a time or two watching Hobbs and Bernard on the court. Bernard was crowding Jon and Hobbs was hanging back. Jon jogged around the key.
Stan made a break for it. He charged straight down the middle of the court. At the free throw line, he jumped and headed straight for the hoop. Instead of going for a slam-dunk, though, he passed it quick and hard, directly into Jon’s hands. Without even aiming, Jon jumped and went for a shot. It bounced off the side of the rim.
Ready for a missed shot, Stan rebounded the ball and ran back to the outside corner. Hobbs came charging at him like a mad rhino. Stan set up his shot calmly, and jumped, firing the ball. It went straight through the hoop.
Jon rebounded the ball and tossed it at Bernard. “Three.”

Fifteen minutes later, the game was heavier on one end than the other at 25-18, but it was much closer than any of the four players would have thought.
It was Jon’s turn to guard the in-bounds shot. Bernard faked a pass high and to the right. Jon started to move to go for it, but he was able to stay still. Several more fakes were read, and Jon was still in Bernard’s face.
With a savage ferocity, Bernard hurled the ball into Jon’s crotch. Mills tumbled to the floor.
“Out on your team!” Hobbs laughed.
“You son of a bitch,” Stan muttered as he went to help his friend.

At the one-hour mark, the score was 97-68.
Not bad, Stan thought. Much better than I would have put money on. Too bad Jon has only made twelve of our points.
Stan passed the ball in to Jon and he dribbled up to the edge of the key, just past the foul line, and he rose up for a shot. Just as his feet left the ground, Hobbs drilled Mills with what seemed to be a football tackle. The ball was launched into the bleachers as Jon was flipped into the air and crashed on the floor.
“Nice blocked shot, asshole!” Stan yelled at Hobbs.
“You do what ya gotta,” he laughed as he gave Bernard a high five.

With ten minutes left in the game and everyone winding down, the scoring had dropped, but it was still a high scoring 162-124. The other three players were tired, but Jon was completely thrashed. His legs couldn’t move, he had been slammed into the court by Hobbs and Bernard so many times he had lost count, and he had a cramp in his leg and one in his side that he was sure would not go away. Jon passed in to Stan.
“Let’s do it,” Jon sighed as he stepped back into the court.
Hobbs was underneath the basket, but he started at a full run towards Jon. Stan passed Jon the ball. Jon took two steps while dribbling then stopped. He brought the ball behind him and slung it directly into Hobbs’ face. The ball found its target and ricocheted off elsewhere in the gym.
“For Christ’s sake, asshole! Enough is enough!” Jon yelled. He turned on his heel to go search for the ball.
Mills heard the Coach’s whistle blowing and then he heard Stan yell, “Look out!”
Jon turned again and was in a half-turned position when all three hundred pounds of Jason Hobbs slammed into his mid-section. Jon felt like his ribcage was going to explode as the weight of Hobbs crushed his body against the hard wood court. He watched helplessly as Hobbs raised his anvil sized fist and brought it down with full force against his face.
“Is that enough?” Hobbs asked as his fist hit Jon’s face again.
“No, but this is!”
Hobbs turned and saw Nicholas Moss, another player, behind him. As Jason opened his mouth to retort, Nicholas swung a broom handle as hard as he could. The next sound Jason heard was the crunch of bone as his nose broke.
It took less than ten seconds for the gym to become a free-for-all.

When Kate walked into Coach’s office, she saw Stan lifting a steak off of Jon’s eye.
“Does that shit really work?” Kate asked.
“Mama’s home remedy,” Stan replied.
Kate cleared her throat to signal her presence.
“Oh, boy,” John whispered under his breath.
Nicholas stood up to acknowledge the presence of a lady in the room.
Kate walked over and knelt down by Jon. “Didn’t play nice with the kids today, dear?”
“I tried, but they didn’t play nice with me.”
“What happened?”
“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
“Depends on what happened.”
“Will Bender hear about this?”
The door opened a second time as Coach Malone strode into his office. “Who the hell are you?” he yelled.
Kate walked over to him and offered her hand. “My name is Kate Thompson. Pleased to meet you.”
Coach seemed less than thrilled to shake Kate’s hand. He did not even glance at it. “The amazing Kate? From last night?”
“That would be me,” she replied.
“And I am the goddamned coach around here and now that we’ve had mouseketeer roll call I want you out of my office!”
“Blow it out your ass,” Kate retorted.
“Excuse me, Babe?”
“I said, blow it out your ass!”
“This is my gym! I don’t want the likes of you distracting my players in my office, my locker room, or my gymnasium, so you can blow it out of your ass and get out of here!”
Stan stepped between Kate and the Coach. “No one is going to blow anything out of their ass! Okay? How about we just settle down, here a bit?”
Coach advanced on Kate another step, crowding Stan’s space. “Your boy broke my player’s nose!”
“That was me, actually, sir,” Nicholas piped up.
“Who allowed this to get to that state?” Kate asked the Coach.
“These players are about to be suspended from school, and therefore the team, and I won’t be sorry to see them go, neither!”
Kate took a step toward Coach. Stan backed out of the middle and took a seat next to Jon.
“Are you really that stupid, Coach? You are going to play a game that is going to be broadcast nationally, and you want to be three players down? What is going through your head?” Kate stood up to her full height and looked down at Coach. “Are you aware of the anti-hazing laws that are being batted around in Washington? You even think about suspending these three and you will have the biggest lawsuit of all time on your hands! You do not have control over your team! You do not have control over your gym! You most certainly do not have control over your anger, so if I were you, I would just shut your verbal diuretic hole, sit down, and be damn glad that I’m not going to even bring a civil suit against your sorry ass as long as Jon gets to play on Saturday!”
“Play? Oh, no! He is not going to play!”
“He’s on the team. He will be to every practice. He was the one attacked today! There is no reason that he should be prohibited from playing!”
“What about the fact that he is a prick?”
Kate noticed a small mini fridge in the corner of Coach’s office. She walked over to it and opened it up. She bent down and pulled a can out of a six pack.
“What about if I call the cops and have them arrest you on having alcoholic beverages on school property, contributing to the delinquency of minors, and sexual harassment charges for calling me babe?”
Coach could see he had been beaten. “What about if they miss the rest of this practice to go home and think about what they’ve done? What about if they come back tomorrow at nine sharp? What about if I don’t even report their names to the principal? And what about if I guarantee them each at least ten minutes of play on Saturday?”
Kate smiled. “Sounds like a deal, Coach. One more thing?”
“What?” Coach growled.
“Jon Mills will not be playing under that name. He will need a uniform with the name of Page on it, please. He will also be listed as Neal Page on the program.”
“What for?”
“Tax purposes,” was Kate’s only response.
“Tax purposes?” Coach mumbled.
“Tax purposes. Now, may I please have time with these players?”
Coach’s eyes narrowed and he grimaced as if he had just touched a hot stove. Without another word, he went back through his office door and slammed it so hard the curtains fell off of the small window.
Nicholas walked up to Kate. “Hi, I’m Nicholas. Nice to meet you.”
Kate smiled. “Nice to meet you, too. I’ve seen you play. Thank you for what you did to help out, Jon.”
“My pleasure. Those guys were being real dicks to him all day. Your boy did nothing wrong.”
Kate nodded her approval. “Good.”
Nicholas started toward the door. “I’m going to get home before Jeopardy starts.”
“Later, Nick!” Stan called.
“Stan,” Nicholas nodded and went out the door.

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13


The wind had gotten stronger and colder in the short time they had been in the diner. Jon had his coat zipped up to his chin as he and Kate walked from the parking lot into the gym. The .357 was in Jon’s inner pocket and it jostled around uneasily as Jon tried to make the walk as brisk as possible.
“Remember, Jon, you don’t have to be playing like Michael Jordan in three hours. You just have to prove that you have a rudimentary knowledge of the game and some of the drills since that is what Coach Malone will be testing the team on today.”
“I’ve got the rules down pat. That’s the easy part. I’ve been watching Stan play every game he’s played in the last four years. I know the game; I just don’t get the game. It makes no sense to me. Why should the guy keep bouncing the ball? Why can’t he just hold the ball? They hold the ball in football. Maybe they should just hold the ball, run down the court, get the best court position, and then make a basket before somebody tackles them. Wouldn't that make more sense?"
Kate just rolled her eyes.
“Look, no disrespect to sports people. I’ve been told that I don’t understand sports. I understand sports just fine. I understand the rules. I just don’t know why most people consider soccer a sport and not bowling.”
“Bowling?”
“Bowling. It’s not easy to keep a sixteen-pound ball on that thin little lane. Try rolling a basketball down a bowling alley and see how well that works.”
“You are so strange sometimes, Jon.”
“What it comes down to Kate is this, I understand the rules of basketball, I’m just not sure that I can actually perform any of the necessary basketball feats.”
Jon opened the door for Kate as they got to the building. Stan & Greg were already waiting.
“Good morning, race fans!” Greg shouted across the lobby.
Jon glared at his friend.
“Where you been?”
“We went out for breakfast,” Jon replied.
Stan stood up from the bench he had been waiting on. “Breakfast? And now you think you can run up and down a court for almost 8 hours straight? Practice goes until five tonight, Jon.”
Jon looked at Kate who tipped her head slightly to the left with a smirk. “You’re going to need the energy.”
“He does need the energy,” Stan agreed. “But he can live without the cramps he’s going to get for the next hour or so.”
“Cramps?” Jon’s color drained ever so slightly from his face.
“Just get him ready, Stan. That’s why we let you in on the deal. That and you’d have to know something was up when Jon joined the team. Just get him ready,” Kate commanded.
“He will be.”
Kate turned to Jon. “I will be waiting for you at five on the east exit of your school gym. No screwing around after practice. Come right out and then you need to be debriefed. We’ll get all your info and then you can go on your date with Aleisha.” She patted him on the back. “Do well.”
“Yes, sensei,” Jon said.
Kate handed him a gym bag that contained all of his newly purchased gym equipment. Jon took it and followed his friends into the locker room.
“Good luck, Jon. You’re going to need it.”


Kate had booked an entire basketball court just for the three of them. It seemed a little eerie to Jon to be one-third of all individuals in an entire gym. Each squeak of the shoes or each breath seemed to echo for an eternity.
“Ok, Jon,” Stan started, “remember, we don’t need you to be proficient, just good. If you can at least hold your own and look like you know what you’re doing, the rest will take care of itself.”
“So, you want me to act?””
“Precisely.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. I am going to be on the court with you. I will put a little pressure on you at all times to force you into an adrenaline rush like you will feel this afternoon on the real court. Greg is going to be paying particular attention to form. Got it?’
Jon nodded. “Got it.”
“Ok. First things first. Dribbling. It is the basic building block of all of the offensive moves on the court. If you can’t dribble well, you can’t play basketball.” Stan picked up two basketballs from the gym floor. He threw one to Jon and he started bouncing the other with his right hand. “Dribbling is a skill in and of itself-“
“The first thing babies learn,” Greg mumbled.
Stan shot him a look that shut Greg up immediately. “Moving on from that, you can’t bounce the ball too fast, too slow, too hard, or too soft. It has to be at a comfortable speed so that you can control the direction its moving in. The force that you bounce the ball has to be just hard enough to make it bounce back up to your palm, but not too hard so that you can’t change directions or grasp the ball easily.”
“You weren’t kidding when you were talking about how this seemed easy, were you?”
“No, I really wasn’t. Now, since you’re right handed, put the ball into your right hand. Now, just start bouncing the ball. I will demonstrate and then you will just do what I do, okay?”
Jon did as he was told. He watched and observed as Stan did it, and he copied in the same rhythm.
“Good. Very good. Keep the same rhythm. Don’t go too fast. Don’t go too slow. Keep it moving. Boom, boom, boom,” Stan made his voice like a metronome, ”boom, boom, boom. Good, good. Keep it going. Good. Boom, boom, boom. Now, keeping the same force on the ball and not bouncing it any harder, speed up the dribble.” Stan started bouncing his ball at double speed and his voice followed suit. “Boom, boom, boom, boom. Good. Keep that speed up! But, don’t put too much extra oomph on the ball. There you go! Good!”
Jon’s right hand was getting very tired, very quickly. “Can I slow down yet?”
“Not yet. Keep it going!” Jon continued. “Boom, boom, boom, boom, good! Four more times and…slow the dribble down now!”
Jon stopped exerting so much pressure on the ball and almost immediately it stopped bouncing and started barely getting above the floorboards. Jon stooped quickly and started bouncing it again at which point the dribble recovered effectively and Jon kept a nice, slow, easy going dribble speed.
“Nice! Way to recover! Okay, next, I want you to take five steps to the right. Nice and easy, keep the ball going at a consistent speed and a consistent height. You’re just going to angle it ever so slightly to the right when you’re ready to take the step. Ready? Step one!” Stan demonstrated and then nodded to Jon.
Jon did as he was told and made the transition nicely.
“Good! Very good! Ready again? Step two!”
As Jon went to take the second step, he moved his foot too soon, the ball bounced off of it, and headed for its refuge in the corner.
“It’s okay, Jon! It’s okay! No problems! Greg, can you please throw him another ball?” Stan asked as his ball kept bouncing.
Greg tossed another basketball into the fray and went and retrieved the lost one.
“Get the rhythm going again, ok? Boom, boom, boom, boom.” Jon started and got the ball into Stan’s metronome voice. “Very good. Now, try taking the step again. Watch me. Just a light tap just before you want to take the step.” Stan demonstrated and Jon followed suit. “Good! Right on! Again! Step three!”
Jon performed this one perfectly.
“Nice! Step four!”
Again, Jon kept his dribbling at an even pace. He had to reach and stretch to keep the ball in check, but he handled it deftly.
“Good recovery again. Now, Step five! Go!”
This time, Jon angled the ball too far and as his right arm reached out for it, he got his footing tripped up and stumbled a few steps too far. He eventually righted himself, but the squeaking from his shoes was still echoing. Jon grinned.
Stan shook his head. “Perfect. Just perfect. It’s like we’re pulling teeth here.”



“Kate!” Chad Peterson was surprised to see Kate walk into his hospital room. “Good to see you! What’s up? I thought you’d be with the new guy.”
“He’s in good hands right now, Chad. We’ve, uh, brought in outside help since you’re unavailable.”
“Who?”
Kate looked at the Styrofoam box she was carrying, put it on Chad’s rolling food tray and placed it in front of him. “I brought you something.”
“Don’t change the subject like that, Kate. Who did you bring in?”
“It’s my usual. A double ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet. After dropping off Jon, I came right over so it should still be fresh and warm.”
Chad hadn’t looked down at his food offering. He still had his gaze fixed on Kate.
“His best friends, Stan Ingle and Greg Taylor.”
“What?”
“I Okayed it through Bender. There was no other way we could get him on that team. Impossible! It’s his own school’s basketball team and his best friend was on it! He has gone to school with some of the same kids for twelve years! If we tried to just slide him in on the team, someone may have made a stink!”
“And they’re still not going to? You just brought two wild cards into this! That place is filling up fast! Is he really that important?”
Kate paused and looked at the floor. “Yes. He really is.”
Chad opened his peace offering. As he picked up his fork, he asked Kate a question that took her by surprise. “Does he know?”
Kate avoided eye contact and looked everywhere but at Chad. “No. He has no clue.”
Chad took his first bite and spit it immediately back into the box. “Damn hot!”
Kate picked up the pitcher from Chad’s tray and filled it with water from the bathroom sink. She poured it into his gas station mug that was next to his bed. Chad took a sip. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Another awkward pause. After his second bite, Chad took a drink and looked at Kate again. “When will contact be made?”
“He will be going with Stan to practice at noon. Sometime after that, I hope.”
“Do we have anything yet?”
“No. Something’s up. Something major for two lives to be taken, but we still can’t place it.”
“How’s Bender holding up?”
Kate smiled. “He’s good. I think he’s going to get another ulcer by the time this is done, but he’s holding up quite well.”
Chad paused as he took another bite. “Kate? What the hell is this?”
“It’s a ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet with double everything.”
“This is your usual?”
“Yeah.”
“Kate, are you insane? No one should be eating this! Least of all, you!”
“Just shut up and eat.”


Stan did a spinning bounce pass to Jon. Jon caught the ball and stood firmly in place.
“You are standing at the foul line, Jon.”
Jon smiled sarcastically at Stan. “Thanks for the tip.”
“I was told to assume nothing. Start dribbling to keep in practice.” Jon did so. “Anyway, the foul line is at the top of what is known as the key. During game time, you can not stand in the key for any more than 3 seconds if you are on the offensive team.” Stan stopped and turned to Greg. “And, no, there is not supposed to be any swearing or rude finger gestures whenever your team has the ball.” He turned back to Jon. “The whole point of basketball is to get the ball you’re bouncing to go through the hoop. One of the most important shots is the foul shot. It can make or break games. It can also get you into a good pattern of being able to make baskets. So, we are going to be making foul shots.”
“Okay. I think I’m ready.”
“Good. What I want you to do first is to just throw the ball at the basket.”
Jon did so and the ball ricocheted off the top of the backboard. Greg threw him another ball.
“Ok. So, you see how hard you threw that? Soften it up just a bit so that it can stay within region of the backboard and basket.”
Again, Jon followed Stan’s directions and this time, the ball bounced harmlessly off of the bottom right hand corner of the standard. Greg tossed another ball to Jon.
“Even better. Good job. Now using that same amount of thrust on the ball, try to hit the white square just above the basket.”
Jon did so and the ball came right back to him.
“Nice. That’s what we want. Now, soften up your toss just a smidge and try to get the ball to just swish down into the net.
Jon did as he had seen many basketball foul line throwers do; he bounced the ball a few times and aimed. The ball bounced off the front rim and again basically went back to Jon. He reached out and grabbed the ball as it tried to zoom past him, but it didn’t quite make it.
“All right!” Stan clapped his hands a few times. “You are right there! You are so there, it’s scary! You softened just a little too much. Put a tad more on it, and you’ve got it!”
This time, Jon’s ball went for a beeline to the front of the rim and shot back at Jon so quickly, he had to duck to get out of its way.
“Good amount of push, now, just arc the ball in the air a bit more and you’ve got it!”
Jon did it and felt an amazing sense of relief as he heard the ball swish through the net.
“Right on, Jon!” Stan whooped and clapped. “Nice going! Now, you do not get to move from that line until you make ninety-nine more foul shots! Go!”




“Come on, Dana, we’re going to miss the flight!” Aaron Goodwin coaxed his girlfriend, Dana Hurley out of the closet.
“I watched the National News! They said that a storm is blowing into Salt Lake!” Dana yelled from deep inside the couple’s closet.
“It is, but it won’t be that much worse than here. More snow, maybe, but cold will be all relative. This is a very humid cold, Salt Lake is more of a dry cold, after the precipitation.”
Dana’s head poked out of the closet. “I have no idea what you just meant, but you are truly adorable.”
Aaron blushed slightly. “Just take a big heavy parka and you’ll be fine!”
“But which one? I want to make sure I’m ready for the dry cold.”
”How about if we just get to the airport?”
“How about if you just relax for a minute, sweetie?”
“I’m perfectly relaxed because I know that all flights out of New York hold for third place network sports reporters before they take off.”
Dana brought herself out of the closet. “Good point.”
“I’m also relatively sure that there is no place to buy a coat in Salt Lake. I watched the National News and they said that all coat sellers have gone out of business for some odd reason in that area.”
Dana smiled at her geeky boyfriend. “Very cute, dear.”
Aaron followed her toward the front door. After they had toted all of their luggage out into the hallway, Aaron locked the door and turned to hurry to the elevators. Dana was blocking his way.
“The next time I enter that apartment, I will have been on the air, live, with a report.”
“I know.”
“When we get back, I will either have a new career as a reporter or I’ll be stuck in the control room for the rest of my life.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Aaron, I love Jennifer, and Will, and Chris, and Dave, but I want to be a reporter.”
“I know.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. Ever since I was a kid was a sports reporter and here’s my chance. If I blow this, I’m not going to have anyone to blame but myself.”
“Dana, these are all things I know. You’re not going to blow it because you are very talented, and have a lot of knowledge. People will like you in front of the camera. Everyone back here will be rooting for you, and I will be right in the truck feeding you anything you need through your earpiece. You won’t fail. We won’t let you. But, if we don’t leave now, we might miss our plane, so can we go please?”
Dana smiled and threw her arms around Aaron. They kissed quickly as they bent down to pick up their suitcases and make it to the airport.



“It took about an hour for you to get those hundred foul shots, but the last fifteen came pretty quickly. You feel good about it?” Stan asked Jon.
“The last fifteen? Sure. Other than that, my arms feel like Jell-O.”
“That’s going to happen. Now, guess what we get to do? We get to make your legs feel like Jell-O. There is no basketball if you’re not moving up and down the court.” Stan walked across the court and placed erasers at the foul line, half court, the opposing foul line, and under the opposing basket. “I want you to start from under this basket. Run and grab the closest eraser. Then, run back here and drop it. Then, go get the eraser at half court, come back here and drop it. Then, go to the opposing foul line, pick up the eraser and come back here and drop it off. Then, when you get the last one from under the other basket, just come running back here as hard and as fast as you can and then we’ll see how well you do.”
Jon took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Jon, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, I’m just almost beat and I still have a little over an hour until we go to the school team. I’m going to be wasted by then.”
Stan shook his head. “You can’t be. There is no choice but for you to keep going. You can’t let yourself drop, Jon. Now, are we ready?”
Jon took another deep breath and resigned himself to the run. “Let’s do it.”
Greg held a stopwatch and put up his arm. “Ready!” he yelled.
Jon crouched.
“Set!”
Jon’s upper leg and upper arm muscles were twitching, just ready for the word.
“Go!” Greg brought his hand down and started the watch.
Jon ran sprinting to the first eraser. It took him a moment to stop, bend, and pick up the eraser. As he was coming back, Stan clapped his hands and encouraged him.
“Not bad, not bad! Run lower to the ground, slightly crouched and get ready to pick up the eraser before you get there!” The first of the erasers flew into the wall behind him as Jon turned and went for the second.
To Stan, it almost looked like Jon was running like a speed walk. He was still straight up and down, but his legs were moving him very fast along the court just by extending and retracting from the knees down. Jon still paused slightly as he bent to retrieve the second prize, but it was faster than the first time. He was coming back toward Stan and Greg in the same awkward gait.
“Keep it coming, Jon! Keep it coming!” Stan kept the encouragement up. “But, you need to actually move your legs, not just from below the knees! To crouch, just run in a forward stance!” The second eraser flew by Stan as Jon turned for his third one. “Just crouch in a forward position, You can grab the eraser a lot better that way!”
Jon changed up his running style again and this time looked like he was off balance most of the way as he was lunging forward ready to grab the opposing foul line eraser by the time he had barely reached the first foul line. Jon’s shoes were slapping against the court in a very unhealthy sounding running style. He did grab the third eraser without much trouble and still cut down his time turning around, but Stan could tell his friend was starting to get extremely tired.
“Nice turnaround time, buddy! Way to go! Now, as you turn around this time, just run as hard and as fast as you can, whatever style is easiest for you. When you get just past the other foul line, start bending down. Don’t try to stop, pick it up, and turn around, just run in a-“ the eraser came flying by again, and Stan started raising his voice as Jon got further and further away, “figure eight type of a pattern and never plan on even stopping and then get your ass back here as fast as you can!”
Jon picked up the last eraser in a smooth figure eight style turn and ran his guts out as hard as he could. He almost looked like he was emulating the slow motion shots of races in films. His head was back, eyes closed and he was purely concentrating on speed. He opened his eyes just as he passed the top of the key, continued running and slowed down only after he had passed the line. He was still slowing down as he came to the wall of the gym, so he put his arms out in front of him and he stopped just shy of scraping his nose against the wall.
Stan walked over to Greg who had stopped the watch as soon as Jon crossed the line.
“Well, Greg, how did our boy look?”
Greg studied the readout for a moment before giving his reply. “Asleep.”



“What are you doing here?” Walter asked Kate as she strode into his office. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Jon?”
“He’s fine,” Kate replied. “He’s with Stan and Greg. Stan is coaching him on the basketball essentials. He’ll do better with them alone than with me as a distraction.”
Walter had his reading glasses on and he looked above his rims at Kate. “And just how much of a distraction have you been?”
Kate closed her eyes realizing that she had better choose her words a little more carefully. “Not what I meant. Stan and Greg have been his friends for a very long time. They would probably be able to get more out of him from a practice than I could.”
Walter picked up a file that was on his desk. “I’m not sure about that, but, you’re his trainer. If that’s what you feel is best.”
“I’ll admit, Bender. I’m not sure what is best. I’m glad we’ve let his friends in on it, but letting him just go in and not letting him know-“
“It’s okay, Kate. He will be contacted and he will know that he is the primary Agent. Help is there, but more for fact gathering. It will be made clear.”
“Isn’t he going to feel used? We’ve put him in when there was already someone there and we didn’t tell him?”
“Moss was never meant as a main Agent. He was just supposed to watch over Mills until we could make contact with him. We never expected that the basketball team would be a place we’d need another Agent. “
“We can’t let him know that we’d been watching him that closely for that long.”
“We won’t. All we do is tell Jon that Moss was just a low level Agent who was never supposed to do anything more than watch and gather information and relay it back to us. He doesn’t need to know any more than that.”
“Jon has a temper, Walter. If he finds out and blames it on us for not telling him-“
“He won’t. And if he does, you talk him down. You’ve done it before. He’s just a normal teenager.”
“Bender, I know he seems like an obnoxious teenager sometimes, but I like him. I think he has a good heart.”
“I like him too, Kate. But you have said it yourself; he can be a cocky son of a bitch. How many times have you told me that in the past few days?”
Kate smiled. She knew she had been caught again.
“There’s no doubt that he will make an excellent agent, but we have been pushing him. If we give him an out, he’ll take it.”
Kate nodded. “Okay, you’re the boss.”
Walter went back to reading the report, but Kate still stood in his office. Walter glanced over his rims again at her and smiled. “Yes, Ms. Thompson?”
Kate took a seat in front of her boss’ desk. ‘I’m worried about something that I hadn’t thought of last night.”
Walter set down the file again and took off his glasses.
“We now have a small group that know about us who are not Agents. His two best friends know. Now, tonight, this girl that he’s had a crush on forever is going out with him on a first date.”
“Aaah, yes, the infamous Aleisha Madsen!”
“So, since his best friends know, what is going to keep him from telling her?”
Walter smiled another large, warm smile. “It’s young love, Kate. Don’t you remember that? He doesn’t want to make himself look any stranger than he possibly can. He won’t want her to run away from him. His stomach will be all butterflies tonight and he is going to try to stay talking about safe subjects as long as he can. He’s not going to take the chance of frightening her away.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was just like him forty years ago. Boys don’t change that much. Not even in today’s world. As they say, boys will be boys.”
“I just hope you’re right, Bender.”
Bender put his glasses back on and picked up the file one more time. “When have I ever been wrong?”


“We only have another half an hour, Jon.”
“Can’t I even get a five minute break?”
“You’ll have about a forty five minute break, but you have another thirty minutes to go. Come on!”
Jon closed his eyes and stood up straight. He tilted his neck back and forth. Several very loud pops came from his neck. He then put his fists behind his back and used them to brace him as he bent back. Even more loud cracks emanated from deep within his back. He opened his eyes.
“Okay, what’s next?”
“Now that we’ve worked on dribbling, shooting and running and putting them all together, you have the basics of offense. Now, it’s time for defense. We play man to man defense. That means that you are assigned a certain player and your job, when the other team has the ball, is to not allow your guy to get the ball at all or to not have a shot.”
“I understand that part of it.”
“Good. So, how do you do that?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
“Well, here we go, then. Greg is going to pass me the ball from the other side of the court. You are going to be defense against me. I am going to try to get past you and make a basket. You try to stop me and we’ll go from there. Okay?”
“Got it,” Jon sighed, preparing himself for the next thirty minutes.
“Greg!” Stan called. “Go!”
The ball came rocketing to Stan from the other end of the court. Stan immediately started dribbling and backed his way down the court. He could feel Jon right behind him, but he could tell that his friend was more or less just standing there, backing up with him.
Stan stood straight up, spun, and shot. The ball whooshed through the hoop.
“You have to at least put your arms up, Jon.”
“If I could feel them, I would.”
“Let’s do it again, Jon. This time, your hands have to at least be up in the air. If I stand up and have a straight shot at the basket, then I will take it. If the basket is not perfectly in my sight, I’m going to look at the other players more than I will try to get out of the position I’m in for the shot. Got it?”
“I can pretend,” the weary Mills acknowledged.
“Well, then. Pretend. Here we go! Greg!”
Another ball came down the court. Stan backed up, just as he had previously. He could see the extra height behind him in the shadows on the court.
“Good job! Now, I’m going to make a move. Stay with me and don’t let me get a shot off.”
“Okay!”
Stan spun and moved to his right. Mills stayed on him and followed him move for move. Stan took the ball to the extreme corner of the court and set up for a three point shot. Jon saw what was coming and shoved Stan in the chest as hard as he could. The ball went straight up into the air while Stan landed with a loud thud on the floor.
“That’s not quite legal in the game, Jon. We’ll need to work on your defending skills,” Stan told Jon as he stood up and brushed himself off.


“Thanks for getting here for the twelve o’clock rundown just a little early, everybody. I just wanted to make sure that you knew everything that I knew about Saturday before we get talking about tonight’s show.” Jennifer Whittaker was addressing her staff at SportsTime.
“Before we get going, can I just make one thing abundantly clear?” Dan McCall, one half of the anchor team spoke up.
“Dan, please. Not today.”
“It is of vital importance to the show, Jen. You have my word.”
“What is it?” Jennifer resigned herself.
“No matter what Casey says, we are not concerned at all about Ultimate Fighting Championships, and I refuse to ever do a segment on it.”
Jennifer buried her head in her hands.
“It’s an even better sport than boxing, Dan,” Casey, his co-anchor, defended himself. “No ref, no rules, just the better, tougher man wins. Isn’t that what we always hope to see in sports? Isn’t that why we get so upset over the calls that referees make in the last few minutes of a game? We don’t want the game to be decided by penalty shots or anything like it, we just want the best team to win.”
“Dan, Casey, I’m sure this can wait until a meeting when I don’t happen to be here, can’t it?” Jennifer interjected. “Fine good. Now, here’s what’s happening. Dana and Aaron barely made their flight to Salt Lake. Once there, they are going to spend some time interviewing every member of both teams. Tomorrow will be a piece about Cottonwood’s players, mainly centered on Junior, of course. Friday night will be about the Warrior’s players. Saturday, we get on the air an hour before the game, which starts at seven o’clock MST. So, we will start our coverage at eight o’clock, local, with the game starting at nine.
“The two pieces from Thursday and Friday will run, and then Dana will be live with both coaches before the game, she will be in the locker rooms, and out in the stands. Our play-by-play is going to be handled by Phil and Michael, and they’ll cut to Dana once every section with crowd reactions and such.
“I just want everybody here to know that I am behind Dana one hundred percent. She has been our associate producer since the very first night we went on the air almost five and a half years ago. This is her big shot. Aaron will be feeding her information all night long and he won’t let her fail. But, we need to make sure that we are on top of our game here at the studio to make sure that she won’t have to deal with any of our mistakes and fill in for us. We all must be on the same page. Is everybody with me?”
There was a resoundingly loud yes from everyone at the meeting.
“Good. Now, since it’s actually time for our meeting to start, we have Bobbi in Vancouver tonight….”



Kate didn’t see Jon as she walked into the gym, but Greg and Stan were chatting, each holding a basketball.
“Hey, guys! What’s up?”
Stan met Kate at half-court. “He did well. Like we were planning, not a superstar, but he should at least be able to be out on the court and not embarrass himself.”
“Good to hear. Will Coach Malone beat the shit out of him?”
“Probably, but Jon can shovel it right back. As you know, he’s not afraid of authoritative figures.”
“I’ve noticed,” Kate grinned. “So where is our boy?’
“In the showers. We let him off five minutes early so that he can massage those muscles a bit before going to the school practice.”
“Well, thanks again, Stan. I’m sure he’ll do well today.”
“Me too. Thank you, too, Kate, for letting us in.”
“It was almost a necessity, but you’re welcome. And I do apologize for taking you down yesterday.”
Stan put up his hands. “I totally deserved it. My fault, but apology still accepted.”
Greg motioned to the locker room. “I’ll go check on Jon.”
“That would be great!” Kate hollered across the gym.
From the moment Greg walked into the hallway, he could feel the humidity level rise. The steam got thicker and thicker as he got closer to the shower area. When he arrived, Greg pictured the steam to be almost as thick as the fog in cartoons when they actually cut it with a knife.
“Jon!” Greg called out. “Kate’s here!”
The shower shut off and a towel wrapped Jon emerged from the mist.
“Honestly, Greg, how did I look out there?” Jon asked as he went over to his gym bag, which was lying open on a bench.
“You won’t win MVP of the game Saturday, but you’re not bad.”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly. I also don’t see you generally just walking off the street and onto any team you want, but in a pinch, you’ll be doing fine.”
“Thanks. That sounds suspiciously like you’re shitty, but you’re not as shitty as you were three hours ago.”
“I was trying to be optimistic.”
“Well, quit it because you suck at it.”

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

In the New York offices of TSC- Trager Sports Channel, home of the TV show SportsTime, Jennifer Whittaker knocked on the door of her boss, Paul Jaffee.
“Yeah?” the older black executive called from the large picture window where he was standing.
“You wanted to see me?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes, I did. I just have one last question to ask you about the whole Salt Lake report. Is she ready?”
“Dana?”
“Yes, Dana. Is she ready?”
“I’m sure she is. Ever since Dan told her that it was very difficult to be on-air talent, she has only taken that weekend trip to visit Aaron’s family. Every other day off, she’s been studying tapes and preparing. I think this is a great chance for her.”
“And I agree. But is this the best chance for her?” Paul hobbled slowly over to his desk and sat down.
“Paul, Dana is getting restless. She can now take over the show and run it with only 3 or 4 minutes’ notice. She can do it with her eyes closed and her hands tied behind her back. She wants to take the leap and I think she’s ready.”
“This is a big story, Jennifer. If she doesn’t cut it this weekend, I will have no choice but to suspend her on the air duties for a long time- a year, maybe more. We need this, Jen. We need it badly.”
“I know, Paul. I called Sam in Indianapolis and he says that we’re just 1/8 point behind FSC. If we can do this well, it can move us into second place, maybe for good.”
“This is our Cosby.”
“Excuse me?”
“Our Bill Cosby.NBC was dead last in the ratings until a few years ago when The Cosby Show became can’t miss television. Ever since then, NBC has programmed Thursday nights very tightly making a two hour programming block of sitcoms that has every show in the Top 10.. Although we will probably always be behind ESPN, we can make a great showing in second. Make sure she’s ready.”
“Aaron is going with her as her producer. They’ll be fine, Paul.”
“I’m glad, but we need them to be more than fine. We need them to be spectacular.”
As Jennifer opened the door, she glanced back around at her boss. “They will be.”


It was a cloudy and overcast morning. An extremely cold wind was whistling through the valley. As they drove, Kate had the radio on. They were predicting an inch of snow by tomorrow morning. It didn’t surprise Jon. He had put on his heavy winter coat since he wasn’t used to the quick change in the weather.
Kate had driven to a small greasy spoon truck stop in the middle of an industrial district. As Jon got out of her car, he bumped into a large boned, unshaven man. The man grunted, and, using his wide girth, shoved Jon back into the frame of Kate’s car.
“Sorry,” Jon muttered.
The man didn’t even look back.
Jon called to Kate. “What kind of a friendly place is this? You didn’t give me enough time to get a full body piercing so that I won’t feel out of place here.”
Kate stopped in the middle of the parking lot and turned around. “What on earth are you babbling about?”
Jon smiled. “Nothing, important,” he muttered as he shut his door and followed Kate into the restaurant.
As soon as he entered the place, Jon could almost physically feel the years of food and grease and grime. He could see oily streaks on the tables, chairs, orange vinyl covered booths, countertops, everywhere! Silverware, while it looked washed, had spots all over it.
A waitress with peroxide blonde hair walked up to Kate. As stereotypical as it seemed she was chewing gum. “Just two of you today?” She grinned through her chomping.
“That’s correct, just two,” Kate answered very politely.
The waitress grabbed two menus and sat them in a grimy booth. “This okay?”
Kate looked at Jon and his look of disgust said it all. “This will be fine,” Kate assured the waitress. Kate moved across the booth and sat next to the window. She got a private chuckle out of Jon trying to follow suit and getting stuck on the vinyl. “You okay, pal?”
Jon took off his coat and put it on the seat next to the window. He scooted all the way over and sat on his coat. As Jon finally made it to the window seat across from Kate, he leaned over the table. “Great ambiance, Kate. There are much cleaner places to come and eat breakfast. Like the urinals in the restrooms.”
Kate grinned. “I know, but this place has a killer ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet and a chocolate shake to die for!”
“But, why this place?”
“Good food, yes, but also, a truck stop. No one cares about the people who are here. As long as they don’t take baths in the aforementioned urinals and sleep in the booths, the employees just want these people to come in, spend money, and leave. It’s a perfect place for those of us who don’t want to be noticed.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Jon muttered as he picked up a menu.
The waitress, Heather, came back. “Can I get y’all something to drink?”
Kate was as perky as Jon had ever seen her. “Actually, I’m ready to order.”
“Go for it, hun.”
“I will take a ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet. I need extra ham, cheese, and mushrooms. Double the normal amounts, please and charge me whatever you need to, and then I will take an extra large, creamy, frothy chocolate shake.”
Heather finished writing on her pad. “And for you?” She looked at Jon.
“Oh!” Jon hadn’t even touched the menu, not that he really wanted to. He opened it and looked at the long list of greasy possibilities. After a quick glance, he handed it back to Heather. “Make it two.”
“You got it!”
As she walked away, Jon turned to Kate, who was radiating a smile from ear to ear.
“There has to be something more to this place, then just the food and the ability to not be noticed for you to be so happy this early in the morning. I assume you’re just not a Denny’s kind’ve girl?”
“I love humanity! I love just watching the type of people who come to a place like this and how they interact. It’s amazing! You could almost write a thesis on human behavior just from living here for a week or two!”
“Thanks for putting images in my head that I don’t need. Imagine how many kinds of disease are in this booth alone!”
“Come on, Jon! You joined the Agency! You must like adventure!”
“I’ve been shot at several times, yes, but my opinion may change if I had to deal with lice and snot all day.” Jon watched with a wretched kind of fascination as Kate just scanned the crowd. “So, Ms. Freud, what do you see?”
“The guy in the black coat and red hat by the exit is a married guy who has been having affairs on this trip.”
“How-?”
“His ring finger. It’s slightly thinner as if it’s been constricted by a ring for many years.”
“Maybe he’s just gotten a divorce?”
“No. He just hugged a woman that went into the restrooms and you could tell he was slightly embarrassed.”
“Maybe he’s not used to the dating scene again.”
“Or maybe he hopes his wife doesn’t find out.”
“Fine. Next?”
“Our waitress is probably from Arkansas who was travelling through Salt Lake on her way to finding her dream when she got stuck here and decided to find a job. She ended up here, and then needed the money, so she never felt that she could quit and continue to pursue her dream.”
“You could tell all that just by how she walks and talks?”
“Nah. Heather- I’ve talked to her before.”
As if summoned, Heather came out of the kitchen with two large plates each with a tall glass and a metal tumbler on it. The glasses were coated with whipped cream on the inside and the metal tumblers were already frosted over. Small dribbled lines of chocolate ran through the frost on each tumbler. Heather set them down on the table.
“Here you go!”
Kate swarmed over hers, picking up the spoon and the straw at the same time. She took the straw wrapping off in one slick motion and placed them both in the glass. She picked up the tumbler and started pounding it on the glass' edge. The shake slid smoothly and evenly into the glass until it just crested over the top.
“Your food will be out in just a second.” Heather walked back to the kitchen.
Jon followed Kate’s lead and did the same routine with his shake. It came out of the tumbler slightly chunkier than Kate’s, which caused it to drip over the sides more. Jon took a drink.
“Damn! That’s tasty!”
“Told you so!” Kate smiled and stuck her tongue out at him.
Jon smiled back. This morning she seemed like a six-year-old. Other times, it almost felt as if she was forty or above. Jon knew that some people held their age well, but he knew Kate couldn’t have been that old.
“Kate, may I ask you a question?”
In between sips, Kate responded. “Go ahead.”
“It’s personal.”
“What is it, Jon?”
“How old are you?”
“25.”
“And you are already this high up? Do a lot of agents quit or something?”
Jon sensed an immediate change in Kate’s energy. “Quit or get killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It happens. They’ve made sacrifices so that many other people wouldn’t have to. That is part of the job, Jon.”
“It may be part of the job, but it still sucks.” He paused and thought about reaching across the table and grabbing Kate’s hand from the side of her shake glass. He thought better of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down.”
“It’s okay. We need to get talking about business anyway.” She extracted her hand from Jon’s grasp and reached into her bag. She pulled out a large manila envelope. “Open this.” She tossed it to Jon’s side of the table.
He did as he was told and inside was one sheet of paper. It had all of his personal information on it as well as a brief biography. It almost could have doubled as an obituary. At the bottom was a place for a signature.
“Read over it carefully and, if everything is correct and spelled right, just sign at the bottom.”
It took a few minutes, but he did, and it was all correct. He signed at the bottom, slid it back into its envelope and handed it back to Kate. “Okay. What was that?”
“That was for this.” Kate nodded to the table.
“I don’t get it.”
Kate’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Under. Put your hands under.”
Jon did so. Kate grabbed his hand and put something heavy into it.
“Is this for real this time, Kate?” Jon asked, sensing immediately what it was.
“Yes it is, Jon. No blanks. Only actual bullets. It’s a Colt .357 fully loaded and ready. I took it out this morning and shot it myself to verify that it is in tiptop shape. It checked out perfectly.”
“You’ve checked everything in the magazine?”
“Personally. All real ammo. Face it, Jon. You are now a real spy who needs real bullets.”
“Get out of here, Kate! I don’t need a gun! I’m going undercover on a high school basketball team for Pete’s sake! Do I need to use this in case I get in foul trouble?”
“I’m not kidding, Mills. Maybe there wouldn’t have been a spot open on the team if the guy last night had had a gun.”
“Kate, look, I’m not the guy that they will come after! There’s no way! Everyone knows that I’m not a jock!”
“That’s why you’re meeting with Stan and Greg this morning, Jon. You need to make people believe that you have been a jock, just not open about it. You said you wanted to act, here’s your chance. Your role is that of a nerd who has had jock potential all along. If you do a good enough job of that and sniffing out the info we need, someone will want you dead. You’re going up against honest to God killers now, Jon. Play time is over.”
Heather brought out the omelets. Jon slid the gun under his coat.
Kate dug in with the same glee as she had when she first attacked her shake. Jon picked up his fork and went to dig in. He noticed a deep pool of grease in one of the pockets of his omelet. Picking up his napkin, he dabbed at the pool. It soaked into his napkin immediately and doused it entirely. Jon used all of his willpower to not vomit. He glanced at Kate who was smiling and had already made a large dent in her breakfast.

Time Out Chapter 11

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1989


CHAPTER 11


After the fast food restaurant, Kate had taken the guys back to the school to pick up their cars, go home, and get some rest. She returned to the crime scene and helped Walter bag and tag the evidence. It was almost two in the morning when she got back to her lookout position outside of Jon’s house. His Ford Thunderbird was in the driveway, so he had made it home from school.
The temperature had dropped significantly throughout the week. It had been chilly several of the other nights, but this night had a genuine snap in the air. Kate had on a ski parka and the heat in the car was turned on full blast. She left it running for about fifteen minutes every hour to make sure she didn’t freeze to death, but it was definitely not good sleeping weather.
After watching a darkened house for an hour and a half, Kate was tired of hearing nothing but her teeth chatter. She needed to talk to someone. She whipped out her car phone and hit her speed dial.
It took seven rings, but Jon eventually picked up. “Yo,” was all he could muster.
“Hey,” Kate felt guilty about waking him up.
“Hey, you.” Kate could hear Jon sit up in bed and turn on the light. “When you join the Agency do they ever let you sleep through the night?”
Kate chuckled. “I keep doing this to you, don’t I?”
“You do, but it’s okay. What’s on your mind?”
“It was ugly tonight, wasn’t it?”
“The murders or my piano playing?”
“What do you think, genius?” They shared a laugh. “Yeah. It wasn’t a pretty picture. I was just wondering how you were handling it.”
“I came home and went right to sleep. I don’t know if that means that it wiped me out or if I just had my second huge day in a row.”
“From my experience, a little bit of both, more than likely.”
“I’m doing okay, Kate. Tired, but okay.” There was a pause. “I’ve woken up in a cold sweat twice already tonight. Nightmares, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what I dreamed anymore. I’ll admit, I’ve probably seen things the last couple of days that no teenager should see.”
“Or adult for that matter.”
“Or adult,” Jon agreed.
“That’s why you’re doing this, you know. So that the fewest people possible will see the horrors that are out there.”
Jon paused and didn’t say anything. When he spoke again, it was a new subject entirely. “My body is stiff, so I’m probably not in the best shape of my life to start playing on a basketball team tomorrow, but I’m relatively decent. Besides, Tylenol taken with Ibuprofen will do wonders.”
“Jon?”
“What?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Since you called at this hour of the morning, I would hope you’d feel comfortable in doing so.”
Jon could hear her breathing on the other end. He didn’t rush her.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” she asked.
Jon thought. “An actor. I want to be able to help people see the human existence from another perspective.” He paused. “This is going to sound corny as hell, but I actually just want to make the world a better place by my acting.”
Kate said nothing.
“Are you still there, Kate? You haven’t fallen asleep on me, have you? My answer wasn’t long and boring, was it?”
“Nope. No such luck.” She sniffed and Jon couldn’t tell if it was from crying or if she had a cold. “I’m still here, Jon.” He could hear a few deep breaths in the background. She had been crying, Jon surmised. “That’s a good goal. Everyone should have a purpose.”
Jon let her thoughts roam a second or two more. “Kate, again, I apologize, but I really need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be yet another huge day for me.”
Kate laughed. “I’ve heard. A date with Aleisha, huh? Pretty big stuff!”
Jon smiled at the none too subtle mockery. “Sleep well, Kate.”
“You too, Jon.” Kate hung up the phone and turned off the engine of the car again this hour.
Jon listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he tried to hang up the receiver. He missed a few times in the dark, but eventually found the cradle.
“You’re okay, Kate. Everything will be okay.” Jon was asleep almost by the time he said the last word.


The phone rang again.
With his head under his pillows, Jon couldn’t see the phone, so his hand went venturing onto his nightstand in a blind search. Finally, after way too many rings for Jon’s liking, he found it and brought the receiver under the pillows. “What time is it?” he asked groggily.
“It’s time for you to get up, Jon,” came the female voice on the other end.
“It’s been a long week, can’t you call Stan first and make sure he’s up and ready?”
“Why would I call him first? You’re the one I care about.”
“I know, but I’ve had a very long week so far, can you give me, like, another ten minutes, please, Kate?”
“Kate?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Jon was immediately confused.
“Kate? Who’s Kate? You just called me Kate.”
“You’re not Kate?” The synapses in Jon’s brain immediately started firing.
“No, Jon. This is your mother!”
Jon sat bolt upright in bed. “Mom! Hi! How the hel-ck are you?”
“We’re fine! Your father & I were just calling to check up on you. Long week, huh? Kate? A girlfriend, Jon? A little partying going on?” Carol’s voice was slightly mocking her only son.
“It has been a long week already. With school, and the talent show, and Stan and Greg, my friends, and I have seen several films, and ordered pizza, and stayed up late, and- yes. A very long week.”
“I know Stan and Greg, Jon. How was the talent show?”
“Amazing, Mom! The piece I did blew everybody away, and I think I won!”
“You think? What do you mean, you think?”
“I didn’t stay for the awards. I was tired and just needed sleep.”
“Right.” Jon could tell that his mother was not quite sure whether to believe him or not.
“Stan and Greg and I stayed up all night watching movies on Monday.”
“Nothing with too much sex or nudity, I hope?”
“Not too much. Just watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High 3 times in a row.” Jon grinned.
“As long as Kate wasn’t there.”
Jon was snapped back into dealing with the Kate situation. “Huh?”
“Who’s this Kate girl?”
“No one, actually. I just haven’t been sleeping too well the last few days and last night I finally just crashed and you must have woken me up and I was dreaming and in a deep sleep.” Jon was making up lies as he went along. He knew he was using the word ‘and’ too many times, but he couldn’t help himself.
“You always were one to have weird dreams and act them out for a little while after you woke up. Remember that spider dream?”
“How could I forget, Mom? Everyone is always reminding me of it at every family function we have gone to since then!” Jon was turning red just thinking about it. “Anyway, how are you guys doing?”
“Things are going great! We stopped off in Farmington, New Mexico on Monday night and got a good night’s rest. Then, yesterday, we just made it the rest of the way to Dallas. We met Gary for a late night pizza at a place by his house, and then we came to the motel and we just got up.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Other than having to listen to your father’s talk radio shows all day.” Jon could hear the sparkle in his mother’s voice as she tried to rise out of her husband.
“Don’t be going on about TalkNet! You listened quite intently yourself!” Jon heard his father retort from the background.
Carol laughed. “Today, the wedding is at 2 and then there’s a reception for family and friends tonight. Tomorrow is the big family tour around Dallas, Friday we meet your cousin Cassandra in San Antonio for a day and then we’ll just take our time coming home. We should be there by late Sunday afternoon. Can you stay out of trouble that long?”
Jon rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I think I can do that.”
“How are my plants doing?”
Jon stopped all motion. “They’re great, mom! All of them have been watered and are looking very healthy!”
“Just make sure they don’t die, please.”
“I’m on it.”
“I knew you would be. I love you so much, honey.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
“Your dad wants to speak at you for a bit if you have time. Since you already slept in, you may as well miss your first class since it is just choir and show up at nine for your second class.”
Jon looked at the clock. It was 7:30. He still had an hour and a half before he had to meet Stan at the gym. And, if his mom was giving him permission to sluff, he was going to take it for sure and let her know. “I got plenty of time. Hour and a half until Family living, right?”
“Hour and a half,” Carol repeated. “but no more. I’ll let you miss one class while we’re gone.” There was an awkward pause. “I love you, Jon, and we’ll see you on Sunday.”
“You know you will. I love you too, Mom. May I speak to Dad, please?”
“You sure can.”
There were the inevitable sounds of the phone changing hands as Carol handed the phone off. Then, came Jon’s dad’s famously gruff, yet very loving voice. “Missing choir today, huh?””
Again, the sparkle was in the voice. Jon’s parents loved him a lot and had taught him right from wrong many years ago. Now, there was a lot of joking around, but the love always shone through.
“Hey, Dad, lot of miles, huh?”
“Just a few. But, plenty of time to listen to those AM talk radio shows!” Bob’s last four words were obviously spoken more to his wife than to Jon.
“So, what’s up, dad?”
“Hang on a minute, son.” Bob covered the receiver with his large hand. “Carol? Can you do me a favor and get some more ice from the ice machine?” Jon heard his mom agree and he heard the heavy motel room door shut and lock. “Okay, sorry about that. I just wanted to remind you that I don’t give a shit about your mother’s plants. I know you’re more like me. If they don’t happen to get watered, your mother can do it when she gets back. It’s only a week. The important ones can make it.”
Jon smiled. “It’s okay, Dad. I haven’t done it yet, but I will. I’ll make sure they’re taken of.”
“Whatever you decide is fine with me, just remember that I could do with less greenery around the house.”
“I know.”
“Also, there is another hundred dollars in my sock drawer. I stashed it there for you. Your mother doesn’t know I won a thousand dollars last time I went to Wendover. Take the hundred and have fun.”
“Thanks, Dad. I will. We can always use more pizza and Coke.”
“I know. That’s why I left it there for you. Are you really doing okay, Jon?”
Jon nodded. “Yes, I am, Dad. I’m doing great. Pretty sure that I won the talent show and I have a date for tonight.”
“With this Kate girl I heard your mom talking about?”
“Actually, Mom woke me up and I was still talking about this girl in the dream, I guess, named Kate. I don’t know.”
“Is Kate related to the spider at all?”
“Ha ha, very funny. No, dad. The date is with Aleisha Madsen, actually.”
“Nice work, son! Finally got over the fear, huh?”
“Kind’ve. It’s a long story, dad. I don’t want to keep you on the phone too long. I’ll tell you on Sunday.”
“Fair enough. Have a great rest of the week, Jon. Your mom and I love you. You know that.”
“I know, dad.”
“And I will be very upset if you use that money in my sock drawer for anything important. It should all be fun money!”
“Got it.”
“See you Sunday, Jon.”
Jon heard what sounded like two motel room doors opening behind his dad. “See you Sunday. I love you guys. Be safe.”
“We will.”
“Don’t try to put too many miles away each day. Pull over and rest if you need to. You have until Monday morning at 7 to get home if you need it.”
“Now who’s being the parent?” Bob asked.
Jon heard a voice from the stairway. “Jon?”
Jon almost froze up. “I am.”
“Someone there, Jon?’”
“I think so.”
Kate stuck her head around Jon’s bedroom corner. “Hey there, sleepyhead! Time to go!”
“Who is that?”
“No one. It’s cool. Don’t worry about me.”
“You’re barely waking up?” Kate asked. “Come on, Jon!”
Jon turned his mouth slightly away from the receiver. “Kate!” he hissed. “Can you hang on for a second?” Realizing that his father had just heard this exchange, Jon went back to his father. “Love ya. Gotta go. Bye.” Without waiting to hear his father’s last words of the conversation, Jon slammed the phone down. Jon closed his eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths.
“Who was that?” Kate asked.
Jon looked up. “My parents!”
“Too bad. I would’ve liked to at least say hi to them. You could say that I was a new neighbor who stopped by to borrow a cup of sugar or something.”
“At 7:30 in the morning?”
Kate shrugged. “Eggs, then.”
Jon buried his face deep in his hands. “Kate, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I’ve seen them from a distance and they seem like great people. One of these days, I’ll just have to find some way just to say hi to them.”
“I thought this was a secret thing!”
“It is, but I still want to meet your parents. I won’t tell them who I am, but I would like to meet your infamous parents.”
Jon looked incredulously at Kate. “Yup. Damn shame I hung up. Well, there’s always next time-“”
“Come on! You’ve got to get moving!”
“What? Do I have another assignment before I meet Stan & Greg?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, you do.”
Jon groaned. “Are you shitting me?”
“Nope, Jon. I’m not. This is very important.”
“Another training mission that I can get killed at?”
“No more training for you, Jon. You’re on. Actually, it’s much more important.”
Jon was now concerned. “What’s up, Kate?”
“You’ve got to take me to breakfast! You haven’t even showered yet!” Kate changed the subject and opened up Jon’s bureau drawers. “Would you get your butt in there and get ready? I am starving!” She tossed a pair of underwear, socks, pants, and as shirt to Jon, which he caught very adroitly.
“You’re insane, sometimes. Do you know that?” Jon asked her.
“And you’re dirty!” Kate got behind him and started prodding him into the bathroom.
Jon shut the door behind him. Kate heard him drop the clothes on the ground and start the water. The bathroom door opened back up.
“How did you get in?” Jon asked.
“Huh?”
“How did you get in?” he repeated.
“Through the front door.”
“It was locked.”
“I picked the lock,” Kate said matter-of-factly.
“Oh.”
“You should tell your parents to get a deadbolt. Much harder to pick than just a normal lock.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jon shut the bathroom door.
After a few moments, Kate heard the shower curtain slide open and closed again. Then, seconds later, it was opened once more, the bathroom door clicked into locked mode and the shower curtain slid closed one more time.

Chapters 9 & 10

Tomorrow is another work day for me where I will be working from 6 am until after midnight, with only an hour break to get from one job to the other. So, I have posted both Chapters 9 & 10 today.
I will continue posting chapters on Monday, May 2nd.

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10


As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kate offered her hand to Jon’s two friends, even though she was driving.
“Hi, Stan and Greg.” She found their eyes in the rear view mirror and made eye contact with each of them as she said their names. “I am Kate Thompson. Since yesterday morning, I have been Jon’s trainer.”
“You got a job? That’s totally cool!” Greg mussed Jon’s hair.
“I kind’ve got a job,” Jon tried to downplay it. Then, as soon as the sentence was out of his mouth, a realization struck him. “If this is a job, Kate, do I get paid?”
Kate smiled and nodded. “Yes, Jon. Of course you get paid.”
“For training, too?”
“Yes, for training, too. You will be paid with a nice pretty blue paycheck- come on! There are a few things that we need to talk about, here!”
“Getting paid is pretty important, I would think,” Greg interjected.
Kate made eye contact with him again. Just from the look in her eyes, Greg knew what would be the safest choice to make.
Stan took his cue to speak up. “Hello, Kate Thompson. Pleased to meet you, officially, without having a physical confrontation with you. What are you a trainer of?”
“I am Jon’s trainer for the Agency.”
“Ok.” Stan took it in stride, but he obviously had no idea what that meant.
“To put it in easy terms, The Agency is a super secret break off of the CIA to go undercover and help stop incidents that could tear a community, the country, even the world apart. For a quick example, one thing that we were about one or two days behind was President Reagan’s assassination attempt. Those are the things we like to avoid.”
There was silence from the backseat. Until, as always, Greg had to break it. “Holy shit! You’re a spy!”
Jon looked at Kate and realized that she wasn’t about to save him. In fact, she had a smirk on her face. “Yes, Greg, I am in fact a holy shit spy!”
Kate took a hard left turn into a fast food parking lot. “We’re here!” She zoomed into a parking space, braked hard, turned off the car and jumped out. Jon followed suit since he was used to Kate’s fast pace. Stan and Greg followed behind by a few clicks, not sure if they were to join Jon & Kate or not.
Kate swooped through the front doors with Jon close behind her. Stan and Greg had just entered the establishment when they saw Kate meet up with a 50-ish male who looked a lot like a favorite uncle. He had white hair, a beer gut, and had an on the job kind of look, but underneath, it was easy to see that he was a man of good humor. She must’ve asked him what was going on because he launched into what seemed to be a description of the crime scene.
“The two victims were working behind the counter. It must’ve been a slow night because there is no evidence of any other diners in here when they got hit. No uneaten food or spilled shakes or drinks. The perp probably came through the front door you guys just came through. Victim one was shot point blank at his register. The perp probably came right up to the counter and fired. ”
Jon kept a safe distance from the victims. He didn’t need to see the blood just yet. Stan and Greg however, had been taken over by the cool fact of being beyond the yellow tape at a crime scene. They followed Kate closely as the older man led her back into the kitchen, probably her superior.
When Kate’s eyes enlarged and she put a fist up to her mouth, Jon knew it couldn’t be a pretty picture. Stan turned away quickly, and Greg stifled a vomiting episode and ran back past Jon and threw up in a corner. Jon braced himself and started making a slow path towards the actual crime scene.
A young kid, no more than 16, had been shot in his left eye. His right eye had a relaxed look to it. There were small drops of blood all over the counter and the register. Jon knew that behind the register had been a sign that read “No checks, please.’ Now, it was just a piece of paper that had been painted red with blood, brains, and skull. The kid was flat on the ground, arms at his side, in a pool of goopy red blood.
“This kid never knew what hit him,” Jon said under his breath.
“What was that?” Walter asked.
“He didn’t know what was coming. He didn’t know the guy had a gun. There are no defensive wounds. Even his right eye looks perfectly calm and still. He wasn’t expecting it.” Jon walked back around the counter, pretending to be the criminal. “The guy probably came in, made some small talk, was pretending to peruse the menu, was commenting about how the temperature has dropped, la, la, la, the clerk is annoyed that his easy night had been disrupted. He probably nodded and said yes or I know what you mean a few times, and at some point, BOOM! The gun goes off, and victim number one is on the floor dead.”
Kate and Walter exchanged glances.
“If this is victim one, where is victim two?” Jon asked.
“Back in the freezer,” Walter confirmed victim two’s existence.
The group followed him back. Jon and Greg were the last two in line. As Greg brought up the rear, he whispered to Jon. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to puke in the evidence.”
Jon smiled. “It’s cool. This is pretty disgusting, don’t get me wrong, but I was expecting it to be worse. Somehow, this almost seems like a movie set or something.”
“Oh my God,” Stan mumbled as he walked into the freezer. Now, it was Stan’s turn to race through the group and leave the immediate area.
Jon moved up quickly, wanting to know what had unnerved Stan so badly. Greg was understandable, but Stan….
The freezer was a complete mess. There were frozen hamburger patties all over the floor, hamburger buns thrown everywhere, chicken breasts and fish fillets scattered, several of the metal shelves were tipped against the back wall. Another young man, though not quite as young as victim one was lying on his back on the floor. His face was bloodied; his legs were underneath him as if he had fallen while trying to play limbo. There was a pool of frozen blood around his knees and his face. Two frozen hamburger buns were on the victim’s chest, but they looked different from the others. Jon took a few steps closer and put the puzzle together. He knew why Stan had run out of the room.
“His name is Jake Spencer,” Jon told Walter and Kate. “Stan knew him. He was on the basketball team.” Greg left the freezer to be with his other friend.
Kate put a gentle hand on Jon’s shoulder. “We know.”
Jon shrugged off the gesture and walked in and took an even closer look at the scene. “Jake’s face is bloody, but his shirt just has some spatter on it. What happened?”
“Mind if I ask you a question, Jon?” Walter asked.
“Go for it.” Jon didn’t avert his eyes. He was still studying the body.
“You’re pretty good at this. May I ask how you know so much about crime scenes?”
“My dad was a cop. I’ve been going to R-rated cop movies since I was 7. You pick stuff up quickly, if you pay attention to the good ones and forget about the crappy ones.”
Kate smiled and made a slight head gesture toward Jon while Walter was looking at her. He just smiled back and nodded his head. “We knew you were the right one for the job, Jon.”
Jon finally stopped looking at the body and locked eyes on Walter. “So, I’m the right one, huh? That’s great. Can you help me figure out what’s up with the blood?”
“Look at the legs again, Jon, smarty pants.” Walter used the name calling not to insult Jon, just to spur him forward.
“They’re torn up,” Jon commented. “Torn up. They almost look like meat themselves.” Jon paused and circulated the thought through his brain. “He was shot in the kneecaps.”
“Bingo.”
“There was a fight in here, but not out there. The registers weren’t touched, I assume, since they looked to be just fine. It wasn’t a robbery.”
“Keep going,” Kate encouraged him.
“Not a robbery.” Jon stood up and went back to the door of the freezer. “It wasn’t a robbery.” His eyes were darting all over the freezer looking for the one clue. “He was kneecapped, but not for money. What else would the perp want?” Jon walked back to the body and looked at Jake’s bloody face. “For there to be just blood spatter on the shirt, this didn’t happen until he was on the ground. Or…this put him on the ground!”
Jon walked back to the door of the freezer. “The criminal backs him into the freezer. Jake assumes it’s a normal fast food robbery, so he is expecting to just get locked in the freezer while the guy robs the place and leaves. For some reason, the criminal, turns his back, and Jake decides he’s going to fight back. He grabs stuff off of the shelves and throws it at him. He and the guy get into a frozen food fight, the gun must have gotten loose, and the criminal gets it back, and doesn’t want to kill Jake. He shoots him in the knees. Jake falls but is still upright by his arms or his ab muscles when the guy comes over and punches him in the face, knocking Jake out. The perp locks him in, realizes he’s done more than he wanted and leaves while Jake freezes in here.”
“Good try,” Kate nodded, “but not quite. Look closer.”
Jon looked the body up and down. He looked around at the freezer and all the frozen goods everywhere. On Jake’s head was a large bruise.
“The guy hit him over the head.”
“Okay,” Kate coaxed.
Jon kept looking and noticed a small trail of blood that led underneath a shelf that was still upright. Jon stood and walked over to the shelf. He stuck his hand out as he knelt down. “Kate, get me a bag or gloves or something. I’ve found something.”
Kate grabbed Jon a pair of plastic gloves from the wall dispenser and threw him a ripped apart bag that had held buns. “Here.”
Jon put on the gloves, leaned over and stuck his arm far under the shelving, when he pulled his arm back out, he was holding a wallet and something else.
Walter beamed. “I wondered where that was! We hadn’t totally processed the scene yet.”
Jon took the wallet and put in the plastic bag. Then, he stared at what was in his hand. It looked like a frozen quarter patty of meat. He brought it within eight inches of his face and just turned it over and examined it from all sides. Kate and Walter had strange looks on their faces. Then, on one of the turns, Jon saw something and realized what it was. He quickly put it in the bag and sealed it, tossing it to Kate.
“His tongue! The blood wasn’t just from a nose shot. That was his tongue! They cut out his tongue!” Jon stood up, stripped his gloves off, and threw them into the trashcan that was there in the freezer.
Stan and Greg had re-joined the group but were still standing several feet away from the freezer, but close enough to hear the conversation.
“The bastard knew Jake. This was personal. He shot his kneecaps as a warning shot and then he cuts out his tongue so he couldn’t talk! Okay, okay. Here we go.” Jon started pacing in front of Walter and Kate.
“This guy comes in, chats with Jake over the counter while looking at the menu or something. He shoots victim one out of nowhere. He never sees it coming. “ Jon took a quick walk out to the kitchen, brushing by his friends. “Buns! There are no buns out here! He realizes he needs buns, he tells his friend he’ll be right back. While Jake is in the freezer getting the buns, our shooter pops victim one. Jake hears the shot and starts coming out. Our guy blocks Jake’s exit. They talk for a while about something.
“Our guy doesn’t like Jake’s responses, so he hits Jake with the bag of frozen buns that Jake was trying to get. That’s not heavy enough, so our guy tries fries, chicken, and fish, which are probably not frozen in stacks quite like the beef. These guys are tussling, knocking shit over. Finally, the killer grabs a bag of hamburger and wallops Jake. Jake goes down, but not for long. He rushes the guy and gets his knees shot out to stop the attack-“ Jon stopped. “Why shoot out his knees? The friend must know that he’s a basketball player. That’s going to stop him from playing basketball.” Jon was silent. He finally shook his head and continued with his theory.
“Jake is down, our guy comes over and punches him as hard as he can in the face. Jake drops to the ground, unconscious. The killer decides he may as well get a little extra cash, but doesn’t want to rob the restaurant. He’s been here too long already. He takes the wallet out and takes Jake’s money. Then, he opens Jake’s mouth and cuts out his tongue, tossing it aside, knowing Jake won’t need it again. But why the buns on Jake’s body? The food fight happened before Jake hit the ground?”
The freezer was silent again Jon could hear his friends talking softly. Stan entered the freezer. He bent down over his friend’s corpse and looked at the buns, not looking at his friend’s contorted face. He picked up the buns and held them close to his face. He took his pinky and put it on the bun over to one side and swiped his pinky along it. He put his pinky in his mouth and tasted the residue.
“It’s a signal Kind of like the fish I the newspaper in The Godfather. They’re buttered. It means he’s toast.”
“Jake knew something. He knew something that he shouldn’t have known and he was killed for it. Was the kneecap shooting a sign? A signal? Was it about the basketball team?”
“Am I in trouble?” Stan asked.
“We don’t know,” Walter answered. “That’s why I told Kate to bring you into our little secret. We’ve been watching your team for the last few months of practices and training. We’ve heard rumors about things happening, but they are all very vague. What do you know, Stan?”
Stan was confused. “Nothing. I don’t know anything. We’ve been practicing since the end of July. We were sixth place in our conference last year. Some of our players drink and drive after we win. We have the game coming up with Cottonwood this week.” Stan stopped as his eyes teared up. “I don’t know anything, man. I just play. I don’t worry about anything other than playing my best. I just play.” He started crying silently.
“Walter, he doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.” Jon defended his friend but kept it low key and hushed.
“I wish I could, Jon, but we need him. He knows the team. He knows what has been happening up until now. He may be in danger. We need his help!”
“And Greg?” Jon asked.
“Well,” Kate admitted, “we just figured it would be easier to bring the three of you in than just two. You three are never apart, so if you and Stan started shrugging off Greg, we knew there could be a lot more problems.”
Jon ran his fingers through his hair. “Not only do you screw up my life, you’re going to screw up theirs, too?”
Walter stepped up. “I think you’re misunderstanding us a bit, Jon. We just need their help. We are not recruiting them. But we need their help, especially Stan’s to get you in.”
Jon didn’t get it. “What do you mean? Stan has nothing to do with the Agency.”
Kate tried to soften the news. “No, but he is on the basketball team.”
“Okay, that’s true. So?” Jon’s eyes widened with realization. “No! You don’t mean- you can’t mean-!”
“We need you to go undercover on the basketball team, Jon.” Kate finally explained.
“I can’t! I don’t play basketball! Isn’t there someone else who can do this?”
“We were going to try to integrate a new player this week before this killing. This just gave us a prime opportunity and a real reason to push this assignment.”
“Who was the new player going to be? You must’ve had someone else in mind before I came on board!”
Walter stepped up. “We did. Chad Peterson. Then, you shot him.”
Greg couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You shot a federal agent?”
Jon got defensive. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”
Walter put out his hand and touched Jon’s elbow. “We know you didn’t mean to, but you did. Now, we need to do what we can. We need to improvise a bit. You are a new agent; you have a friend on the team. Since they won’t want to be a man short for the big game this weekend, he can introduce you to the coach as a clutch player, and bing, bang, boom, you’re on the team!”
Kate went to Stan. “I’m sorry that I had to hurt you today. You were a little out of control. And I am really sorry about your teammate, but we need your help, Stan. Can you get Jon onto the team?”
Stan shrugged. “I guess I can try. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try.”
Walter shook Stan’s hand. “We’ll try to get a grass roots thing going and get the parents desperate to get another player to fill out the roster. That way, Mr. Cannon will light a fire under your coaches ass and we will just slip Jon right in.”
“Cool,” was Stan’s only reply.
Jon walked out of the freezer finally. Without a word, he walked past victim number one and up to the dining area. The group followed him. Jon plopped down into a booth and put his head in his hands. When he looked up, there was a half circle around him.
“I’m going undercover on the basketball team?”
Stan smiled and looked down at Jon. “You’re going undercover on the basketball team.”