18
The Public Relations Invasion of Rattlesnake Haven
The next morning they all had breakfast together and Mike was soon up on the third rung of his ladder reaching to drape the final string of lights in place, when his cell phone chirped.
“Darn,” he said as he quickly climbed down. The chirping ring was a special ring he assigned his phone to let him know it was from the base and he answered in the voice of a leader, “Colonel Eklund here.”
“Mike, it’s me, Berni. We got the final scan results from PRD2. Want me to have one of the troopers run them out to you?”
Mike thought on it a second and answered, “No, Berni. I’ll hop back in the H-60 and come directly to the base. I’ll be in fatigues and after we look them over, we’ll know whether we move on it or not.”
“Will do, Colonel.”
Mike placed the last string of lights up, went in and changed into his military fatigues and forty-five minutes later was strapped in as the army H-60 lifted off for the base in Bransville, which appeared in his side window thirty minutes later.
Being governor is a hectic life, he thought, but one that I love!
Inside of the base operations room they looked at the scans hung up against a glass-lit background. The three beneath-ground scans showed the meandering mine as a white on gray background and each scan had a timeline and date on it along with other information such as ground density, depth and so on. Over the scans was a transparent map of Nevada with the boundaries of the various counties, cities and owned properties. The two colonels sat in the darkened room as a technician stood with a laser pointer.
“Commence, Lieutenant,” said Colonel Meyers.
“Sirs,” said the young Lieutenant as he activated the laser’s beam and pointed it at the serpentine underground tunnel, “as you can see the ground penetrating radar scans were all taken at the same location at late night or early morning when civilians were most likely to be asleep. All scans show no movement at all, however, because the operation was activated in such a short of period of time, the enemy…ah, the people working in the shaft really had no time to extend the mine for any noticeable amount of space.”
“So, Lieutenant,” asked Mike Eklund, happy that the darkness hid the disappointed look on his face, “that means that they could have moved forward ever so slightly and the scanner might not have registered it. Correct?”
“That is correct, sir.”
He turned in the dark to Colonel Meyers and said, “Let’s go to your office, Berni.” The two bird colonels stood, signifying the abrupt end of the briefing.
“What do you think, Berni?” asked Mike Eklund after they closed the door to Berni’s office.
“Dunno about this one, Mike. Could be movement, or maybe not. But one thing is for sure: the mine, at this moment, stops just short of the boundary line. So whatever they’re doing, it’s on their own territory.”
Eklund’s face became like a piece of granite as he said, “And that’s the problem, Berni. They could be totally legal and yet they might be planning something nasty and we need to find out what.”
“But, we can’t afford bad press…especially…”
Mike finished the sentence for him, “Especially as it is election time, you were going to say?”
Meyers nodded.
He blew through his pursed lips and said, “I know. But I also know that if I don’t do anything and it is a worst case scenario, I could never live with myself.”
“Even if it cost you the election?”
“Yes,” he said as he put his hands deep into his pockets and walked a circle as he pondered his situation.
“Boss,” offered Berni, “I have a suggestion if you want to hear me out?”
Eklund stopped pacing, “I’m ready for any and all suggestions, Berni. Shoot.”
“What if you go in alone? I mean, in a Humvee with a few troops, but not like John Wayne, but as the Governor of Nevada. You just happened to be in the area because of Operation Snowball and decided to say hi?”
Mike’s face went from granite to a soft smile as the thought took hold. “Hmmm, not bad, Berni. Not bad at all.” He sat and with a grin said, “You looking for a job as a Governor’s advisor?”
“Not me, boss, too much politics.”
Eklund grinned and quickly ran through his next moves. He stood and said, “Berni, I’m going back home for a bit but I’ll be back in time to make it to Rattlesnake Haven by noon, Christmas Eve.”
“Roger, that, Mike. I’ll have a copter ready for you at Carson City on the 24th.
They shook hands and Eklund left as Colonel Meyers returned to the planning of Operation Snowball.
Anne nudged Bob as she heard noise in the kitchen and after opening the bedroom door they were hit with the aroma of coffee, bacon and eggs. “Must be Jean and Cal,” she said as she wrapped her terrycloth robe around her. They went down the stairs and saw the couple setting the table.
“Good mornin’ you two love birds,” said Jean as she poured two coffees, “I was just about ta call you down.”
Cal said with a grin, “Heck, even Samson knew enough ta sneak on down an’ get an early breakfast.”
“Now,” continued Jean as she slipped two fried eggs onto Anne’s plate, “eat up as we got lots ta do today.”
The two women chatted away about the wedding plans and all they had to do to make this the wedding of the year. Bob rolled his eyes as Cal grinned.
After breakfast the four went into town and Bob and Anne were surprised to see a tall, fir tree erected in the middle of town.
“A Christmas Tree?” asked Bob with a grin as he used his hand on the brim of his hat to help block out the sun, “Out here in the sun?”
“Good fer a few days anyway,” said Cal. “We brought it in a day or so ago. Before the flap started, I guess. We got a few of the young ones on permanent watering duty so it’ll stay fresh.”
“Well,” said Anne looking up at it, “I think it’s beautiful.” She turned to Bob and with a light punch to his arm, quipped, “Much prettier than the one they have in Rockefeller Center in New York.”
“Now,” said Jean as she grabbed Anne by her elbow, “you men go off on your own, we ladies got ta shop fer a wedding.” The two men tipped their hats and walked off with a smile.
“Are we still going to Doc Peter’s office?” asked Bob.
“Yep! He said ta stop in any time so why not now?”
They opened the door and a small bell jingled as the door nudged it.
“Be right there, have a seat,” came the sound of the doctor’s voice from the rear of the office.
Bob never really took notice of what was in the old office but now that he did take notice, he saw some instruments that he didn’t recognize. He looked questioningly at Cal who nodded back.
“Son, when I said we sorta ran outta time, one of the things we wanted to talk with ya about was the doc. Ol’ Doc Peter’s studied in France, Germany, Italy and the good ol’ USA. He got so many degrees that his office is always ten degrees warmer than it is outside in the sun.”
Grinning at the pun, Bob asked, “And he prefers being here in Rattlesnake Haven rather than where he is so accomplished?”
“Shucks, son. It’s in his blood. Just like you, me an’ all these other folks in town, the Doc lives for the old west. His mom and dad raised him here on vacation time and later on when they retired to live here, he came along. On vacations between schools he came back here and around 1928 he buried his folks. So ya see he got deep roots here himself.”
“Bob shrugged and asked, “So, what does he want to see me about?”
Cal shrugged and said with a faux look of one being in the dark, said, “Shucks, I ain’t the doc. Best ya ask him. Here he comes now.”
The white curtain parted and Doc Peter’s came in from the rear of the office. Wearing a white jacket with the typical stethoscope around his neck, was a big, gregarious man who looked more like a bartender than a doctor. He w
ore his red and gray hair long and back in a ponytail and his black plastic rimmed glasses on the end of his pointy nose. But it was his deep brown eyes that showed his intelligence, as they seemed to pierce into a person. He offered his hand and Bob’s disappeared into his as they shook.
“Mayor McKillop! How are you this fine day?”
“Ahh, not bad, I believe,” he said looking at Cal.
“Well,” said the doctor as he pulled a wheeled seat up close to him, “I don’t believe in beating around the bush, Bob, and I have some decisions for you to make and according to Cal, they have to be made very soon as we are getting set to leave Rattlesnake Haven.”
“What kind of a decision?” Bob asked nervously.
Cal stood and put his hat on, “Gents, best I wait outside.”
“No! Please wait here, Cal,” said Bob, “There’s nothing that’s going to be said here that I won’t tell you later.” The big man took off his hat and with a grin patted Bob on his back and sat next to him.
“Now,” continued the doctor, “where we come from, medicine is far along compared to this time and we want to thank you for your wonderful generosity and keeping our town alive.”
Bob shook his head, “I don’t need thanking. I just did what anyone else who loved the old west would have done.”
“Nevertheless,“ continued the doctor, “its been decided that if you wish I can remedy your challenge.”
Bob looked questioningly at Cal who answered in a whisper and a smile, “Son, what the doctor is sayin’ is that he can fix yer leg.”
Bob recoiled. “Fix my leg? Why, I don’t need that done. I mean, why? Why would you think that I want that done? Have I ever complained?”
Doctor Peters smiled a soft, understanding smile and said, “Bob, I understand what you’re saying, and under different times, with more time allowed, I’d have approached this subject in a different manner. Spread it out sort of. But, as time is severely pressing, I’ve decided to simply lay it on your lap.”
Cal picked up the conversation, “Son, look at it this way. Medicine in our time is so much more advanced because of all the work being done right here in your time. In our time, a challenge such as yours is simply addressed as soon as it happens and there’s no time ta reflect on it. What the good doctor wants ta do is just give ya a new start from where ya got sidetracked back when ya were a kid on a bike. That’s all. Tell me, son, has any of our group ever even looked sideways at ya?”
Bob slowly shook his head, as he clenched his hands together, “No. In fact I almost forgot about - about, this leg.” He looked at Cal and then the doctor and went on, “I used to wake up every night soaked in sweat reliving that-that…“ he hung his head and went quiet for a moment before resuming, “Anyway, I’ve never slept so well as I have since I’ve been living here in town.”
“Well,” said the doctor, “I’ve taken the liberty of retrieving a lock or two of your hair when you got a haircut at Kenny’s Barbershop for a DNA sample and mixed up a batch of what some people call cell growth. It’s simply injected into the area that needs help and in a week it rehabilitates the area to what it should be.”
“That simple?” asked Bob with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, that simple,” the doctor sighed. “But it’s that simple because of all the work the doctors of this time are performing.” He took out a slim needle and a tube of serum, placed it on a stainless steel dish and picked up a bottle of alcohol and a cotton swab.
Cal suddenly stood, grabbed his hat and said, “Gents, this time I really got ta go. I, ahh, I can’t stand the smell o’ rubbin’ alcohol. I’ll be waitin’ on the sidewalk, partner.” He quickly left.
The doctor laughed and said, “Cal never could stand seeing a needle do its work.”
Ten minutes later Bob walked out and Cal just looked up at the sun and said, “Gonna be a warm Christmas, partner.”
“It’s for sure that it’s not going to snow,” said a smiling Bob as they walked to their next stop.
To Bob it was a given that Major’s Men’s Clothes would have the black suit he needed as they all knew the wedding was coming and that he’d be coming there for the suit. It fit like a glove and he also purchased a white shirt and black string tie. Next they walked over to the boot shop and bought a pair of soft leather dress western boots to go with his outfit. Finished, the two men had lunch in the Dust Off Tavern. Cal grinned as Bob noticed the decorations for a celebration.
“Wedding party?” he asked.
Cal feigned innocence, “I don’t know nothin’, partner. Best ya ask Jean…or better yet, don’t ask and act surprised.”
They both agreed over a tall cool beer.
That night the whole town got together and after a barbecue, decorated the tree with silver ornaments and streams of thin silver beaten to resemble icicles and cup holding candles until it looked like a much larger version of the tree in the church.
Jean nudged them and indicated the red wagon that slowly entered town by the back-way near the well. The driver was Santa Clause and once again, as the children who all seemed to try to outdo each other with wild screams of joy spotted him, he started to laugh his big belly laugh.
“Ho, Ho, Ho! Hello all!” He stopped the team of horses and stood up. Santa looked up at the tree and proclaimed in a loud voice, “Boys and girls of Rattlesnake Haven, you really know how ta dress up a Christmas Tree. Why this one is even bigger and prettier than the first one ya did.” He reached into a red cloth sack and took out a long list. Fixing his glasses, he read, “Well, according ta my list I got nine dolls, two fire engines, four police cars and one baseball glove.” He took off his glasses and looked at the very quiet children and went on, “Now, if that seems right, will ya let me know so that Santa can make sure that my elves pack the right toys in my bag.”
The children all spoke and shouted at once and Santa simply nodded.
“Well, okay then, the list is right, so tomorrow night I’ll be back and put them under this beautiful tree.” He stopped and pointed to one of the boys, and said with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, “Kenny Reilly. I hear that at times ya don’t put a lot of effort inta sweeping up after yer dad cuts someone’s hair. Well, Kenny, ya got ta fix that real soon, as ya know I’ll be here tomorrow night an’ need a good report.”
Putting the list back in his bag, Santa finished with a wink to the little boy and said, “I know ya can do it, partner?”
Young Kenny stood open-mouthed as he nodded in agreement as Santa sat back down and shouted, “Ho, Ho, Ho, it’s off to the North Pole I go, then to my toy store to be back tomorrow night with toys galore. Ho, Ho, Ho!” He turned the buckboard around and slapped the reins in the air as the horses flew out of town.
Cal grinned and asked the young couple, “Recognize Santa?”
At both of their shrugs he answered, “It’s Big Joe Sergi, the bartender of the Dust Off.”
“I see that he does advertisements for the barber shop,” said Bob.
The four turned in early that night to be ready for the next day: Christmas Eve.
The sun had only been up for ten minutes and already the waiting Humvee had its air-conditioner on full blast. Colonel Meyers walked Colonel Eklund across the helicopter pad towards the vehicle that seemed distorted as the heat from the blacktop rose in the hot air.
“I’ve set you up with two of my best troopers; Sergeant Lang is a crack shot as is Corporal Springer. Springer is also an excellent cameraman who will be videoing the meeting so it takes on the look of a PR visit. They’ll check in with me every thirty minutes with a status report after you reach the town.”
“Roger that, and thanks, Berni. I’ll stay in touch.” He climbed in the Humvee’s rear seat and immediately wished he had brought along a seat cushion. He removed his helmet and body armor and rearranged his positioning as the Glock pistol under his arm dug into his side. He started to undo the holster and thought better of it, It would be nice to never have to use this thing, but you can never
tell when you might need it. I’ll go with the discomfort.
“Any time, men.”
“Yessir,” answered Springer as he put the Humvee in gear and they pulled away. At the tip of the vehicle’s whip antenna was a red triangular pennant with the company logo embellished on it: a lightening bolt striking the ground. It could be seen from far off as it whipped back and forth with the Humvee’s movement over the undulating terrain. The dash-mounted GPS had the town’s location loaded in it and the three men settled down for the rough ride ahead.
In Rattlesnake Haven, Christmas Eve morning was like every other morning since Bob had arrived: Hot and sunny. He smelled the coffee and rolled over to find Anne’s side of the bed empty. Checking the height of the morning sun out his window, he grinned as he thought, Well, cowboy Bob, now you can tell that the sun has been up for about forty minutes already simply by seeing how high it is in the sky. Mmmph! It’s quite a difference from living in Brooklyn and getting the time by looking out the window and checking the clock on the Williamsburg Bank.
Putting on his robe, he went down the stairs and saw Anne as she fed Samson some scrambled eggs. “Good morning, future Mrs. McKillop.”
“Good morning, future husband.” She gave him a quick peck and pulled out a chair. “Sit and eat.”
“My last breakfast as a bachelor.”
“You make it sound like your last meal.”
He shook his head and pecked her cheek as she poured him coffee.
“Hope you don’t mind, I invited Cal and Jean over for breakfast?” she said.
“Good,” he said in a determined voice, “because my goal today is to make them stay right here in Rattlesnake Haven.”
Romance in a Ghost Town Page 36
