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.