by Thomas Babak
“Watch it again,” Kate said. Jenkins leaned forward and played the video again.
It showed the roof of some sort of vehicle, obscured by tree branches. The angle from the helicopter shifted trying to get a better view but the branches obscured the view too much. Suddenly the roof disappeared and the two large pine trees next to it leaned suddenly outwards, their tops swaying back and forth. Branches starting at the base of the trees began to move, bending and some breaking as “something” rose out of the trees. The helicopter moved away from whatever was rising up. Whatever it was, it was large and it was invisible. It stopped at the top of the trees. You couldn’t see anything there. But the tree top bent over unnaturally from where “something” was pushing it down. The “something” moved off, the tree top snapping back into place.
“Related to the snow plow…dump truck…whatever?” Travis asked when the video ended.
“That’s what you’ll find out,” Kate answered.
Kate looked over at Jenkins, who recognized his cue.
“While you were wrapping up and heading back, a search party for some missing boys at a state park in Minnesota was in progress. The boys appeared and spoke of being rescued by a man in an RV. A flying RV.” Jenkins said seriously.
Travis looked back over at Kate to see her expression. Maybe they were playing a joke on him, he thought briefly. On the other hand, she was dead serious and the bitch never joked and he had just seen a video he couldn’t explain.
Jenkins continued, “We control the video, and local law enforcement has already spoken to the family and the searchers. We’ve set it up as a possible kidnapping so the parents of the boy have been informed of the importance of keeping quiet while an investigation is underway. This is the same story we’ve used with the searchers as well. Most of them are civilians. We know we can’t stop leaks but this disinformation should explain things quite well.”
Travis just nodded his head. A smile broke out onto his face as he thought of a “Flying RV.” This was going to be fun he thought.
“You’ll be tied into the FBI field offices in Minneapolis. My assistant has your credentials.” Kate said.
Travis was still smiling.
“Mr. Travis!” Kate snapped.
The smile was replaced with surprise as he jerked to attention in his seat. Jenkins just looked startled and briefly scared.
“This is the second incident in Minnesota in less than a week. There is someone out there that has technology that renders them invisible and they can fly.” There were no smiles at this last statement. “This is very serious. We don’t control this and someone else does. This is an extremely credible threat to our national security. Find them. Find the technology. Let me know whatever resources you need. Drop everything else you are doing. Jenkins and his team are at your disposal,” she said, the most deadly serious that he had ever seen her during their years of tense situations.
“Give me daily updates. I will get involved directly as the situation evolves,” she finished.
Both Travis and Jenkins sat there looking at her.
“Go!” Kate said as they jumped up and scrambled out of her office.
Kate turned the monitor back around and played the video again. The implications of what she was watching terrified her. She took a sip of her now-cold tea, her hands slightly shaking.
She hated when she displayed any anger. Taking several deep breaths she sat back in her chair and brushed her shoulder length hair away from her face with her fingers. She looked around at her bare office walls. The two pictures on her desk of her and her dead family the only personal things in the entire room.
She leaned forward and took another deep, calming breath.
“Marie! Can you bring me a cup of coffee, please?” she called after a few minutes.
While Travis headed back to Minnesota, Kate would marshal resources. It was what she did best. She would pull military, law enforcement and scientific resources from various elements and people they had used before to assemble a tactical and scientific team. Intelligence would be handled by herself and her own direct reports. They may need to forward deploy to Minnesota. That was the hub of this activity. All government activity would need cover stories and she had to prepare a briefing for her boss, the Secretary of Homeland Security. She’d have to create one for his boss, the President of the United States as well. This situation was that serious.
It was going to be a long night, she thought as Marie brought her a cup of coffee.
Fourteen
The clock next to Grandma’s bed read 6:06AM.
Sandy woke at his usual time, several minutes earlier, but today was vastly different. Tasha lay snuggled up against his side. Her arm draped over his chest and one of her legs draped over both of his.
He had woken slowly, aware that he wasn’t alone but unconcerned. He lay there on his back, the bed and Tasha warm and comforting, her breath brushing gently on the side of his neck.
He laid there for several more minutes before gently moving her arm away and sliding out from under her leg and off the bed. He placed the covers back on her, and she snuggled deeper into them in her sleep.
Sandy went to the bathroom and took care of his morning routine. That done, he walked downstairs and went to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge he noticed he was out of eggs and milk. Tasha would be asleep for a while probably. He decided that he would take a quick trip to the store for pancake supplies instead.
He was soon back with a shopping bag of ingredients for breakfast and lunch. After putting the cold food away in the fridge, he tiptoed upstairs.
Looking through the door of Grandma’s room, he could see that Tasha was still asleep. He said her name quietly, but there was no response. He looked at his watch. Still only 7:00a.m. Maybe I should let her sleep? He tried to contain his excitement at having her over.
A shower only killed fifteen minutes. No work at the Salvage Yard on Sunday. Sundays were days that Sandy usually cleaned up around the house. He also read, researched, and knocked out any homework that he’d hadn’t already done. On Sundays during the last few months, he had headed to the Salvage Yard and worked on the Bubble Tech. Today, Sandy was too excited for work. Tasha was here.
He puttered around downstairs for a little while longer before he checked his watch again. Only another 30 minutes of time killed. I’ll wake her up, he thought to himself, a surge of excitement making him smile. He walked quickly out of the kitchen and up the stairs, making no attempt to be quiet this time.
Tasha was still buried in the bed. Sandy made his way over to the side of the bed and called out, “Tasha…" No answer. The covers were pulled up over her nose covering her mouth. He called out again, seeing some movement from under the covers. He sat down on the bed, one foot still on the floor, and reached out and tried to shake her.
“That’s not my arm,” came a muffled response as Tasha peered at him with half-open, sleep filled eyes from under the covers as the rest of her face slid out. Sandy jerked his hand away.
Tasha laughed and said, “Just kidding. Relax, will you.”
She pushed the cover down to her waist and Sandy made to get up but Tasha reached out and grabbed his arm so he settled back down. She still held his arm.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Sandy glanced at his watch and said, “It's almost 8:00.”
Tasha scowled lightly. “So early. Why’d you wake me?”
“I’m making breakfast,” Sandy replied quietly.
Tasha lay there looking at him for a few moments, the scowl disappearing. “Okay, I’m coming,” she said as she slowly sat up, a smile appearing as she stretched. The covers fell away even more.
Sandy got up quickly and said, “I’ll be downstairs” and left the room. The sight of Tasha lying in bed stretching had been too much. His heart was racing.
In the kitchen, Sandy calmed down while he made breakfast. He got out some dishes and set the table. He brought out some of the things he had go
ne to the store for earlier, including milk and a jug of orange juice. He then picked up the box of pre-mixed pancake batter and was reading the box when Tasha padded into the kitchen on bare feet.
Sandy looked up as she walked in. She was wearing the shorts from last night. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a single fat ponytail down her back. She’d changed from the T-shirt to a tight top with spaghetti straps. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Sandy couldn’t help himself. He stared.
Tasha smiled and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Do you have any coffee?” she asked.
“Oh no! I forgot. I don’t drink coffee and didn’t think,” Sandy said in semi-anguish.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll just have some of this juice. Can I help?” Tasha asked.
“I got it. Thanks,” Sandy answered.
Sandy got a glass from the cupboard and poured her some orange juice before going back to the counter. He put a pan on the range and dropped a scoop of butter into it. He mixed up some pancake mix and poured some into the hot pan. He made the pancake, checking underneath it every once in a while to see how it was cooking. After a few minutes, he had a semi reasonable looking pancake. He scooped it up and laid it on the plate he had waiting for it. Soon he had four, very large and ugly pancakes sitting on the plate.
He turned off the range and carried the plate over to the table.
Sitting back down with a quick glance at Tasha, he put one of the pancakes onto her plate. Serving himself, he poured maple syrup onto his pancake and asked, “How is it?”
“Wonderful,” Tasha answered between mouthfuls and a syrupy smile. “I can’t remember the last time someone made me breakfast.”
Sandy just smiled and continued eating. He soon finished his pancakes and watched Tasha as she ate hers. She hadn’t quite finished a second pancake but leaned back and pushed her plate slightly away from her.
“I’m done! Thanks! That was wonderful,” she said with enthusiasm.
Sandy smiled, gathered her to his plate and stood up. When Tasha started to get up, Sandy just stuck his palm out for her to stay. Tasha sat back and sipped her juice while Sandy cleared the table and began cleaning up while she sat there.
“What are you going to do today?” he asked as he washed the dishes.
“Nothing planned,” she answered. “What are you going to do today?” she asked.
“I didn’t have any plans… do you want to hang out?” he asked tentatively.
Sandy finished up the dishes, the question still unanswered, dried his hands and he came over and sat back down at the table.
“Sure. I’d love to,” Tasha finally answered, as if it had been a very hard decision and she had to think about it.
Sandy didn’t know why she had hesitated, but he also didn't really care. She’d spend time with him today, and that was all that mattered.
“I’ve got to go home and get some clothes though,” she continued.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said getting up and walking out of the kitchen, hips swaying from side to side as Sandy watched her head upstairs. By the time Sandy had finished cleaning up, Tasha was already skipping down the stairs having put on some slippers and a sweat shirt.
She walked past Sandy towards the front door. “Be back in a minute,” she said over her shoulder as she went down the porch stairs and Sandy watched her cross the street. He closed the door after she made it across the street.
Sandy wandered back to the kitchen, giving it another once-over with his eyes to make sure everything had been cleaned up and then headed upstairs. A peek into Grandma’s room showed that Tasha had made the bed. Her backpack and purse were sitting on the floor. He closed the door and headed to his room to pick up a little.
“I’m back!” he heard from downstairs.
He walked to the stairs, just as she reached the top.
“I’ve got to take a shower and get dressed. What are we going to do?” she asked as she walked into Grandma’s room carrying a plastic bag stuffed with clothes.
“Can we… Can we try to go to the movies again?” Sandy asked tentatively following her and standing in the doorway.
She dumped the clothes out of the bag on to the bed and said “That sounds like a great idea. How about we go to Plymouth? That way, we probably won’t get interrupted again,” a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. Plymouth was even further away from Maple Lake than Buffalo, and chances were they wouldn’t run into anyone they knew. Especially Nick.
Sandy laughed and said “That sounds like a plan. I’ll be downstairs,” as he closed the door.
Before heading downstairs, Sandy stopped by his room and changed his shirt. He put on one of his dad’s polo shirts that he’d never worn. He couldn’t remember his dad ever wearing it either. He put this on, untucked, over the black t-shirt he was wearing. That was the extent of the dressing up he was going to do for his date. It is a date, isn’t it? he asked himself.
He sat there on the couch for at least fifteen minutes listening to the shower running. After another ten minutes, the water was still running so he turned on the TV and started to flip through channels. It was probably going to be a long wait. It didn’t bother Sandy at all. The last couple of days had been amazing. He’d rescued two boys and proved that Bubble Tech had value. Tasha was back in his life and he’d shared the secret about his father with her. They had slept together last night. Just slept, but it had been wonderful, and now they were going to go on a date.
A news program caught his attention as he flipped through the channels.
What? Botched kidnapping? What the hell are they talking about? screamed through Sandy’s mind. Without thinking, he jumped to his feet as he listened to the story progress.
The news reported that the two boys had not been rescued, but had escaped a botched kidnapping attempt. The kidnapper was described as a white male, between his 20s and 40s with dark hair. He was driving a small RV.
“But I rescued them,” Sandy whispered out loud to the television. Fear, nausea and anger roiled inside him. He slowly sank back down and slumped on the couch.
Sandy shut the television off and booted up his laptop. There were no additional details online. He shut it off and placed it gently back onto the table. The bathroom door opened upstairs. He hadn’t noticed the shower turning off. He heard Tasha walk down the hallway to Grandma’s room.
Botched kidnapping? His attempt at being a hero had failed. They all misunderstood. He had just tried to help. I failed, he thought to himself. Misery coursed through him. He had only tried to help.
“Sandy?” he heard from the stairs.
Sandy jumped up and turned around from where he had been sitting.
“Are you okay?” Tasha asked, a look of concern on her face. She was wearing Grandma’s dressing gown and had a towel wrapped around her head. Standing there on the stairs, she looked utterly beautiful to Sandy.
“Uh…yeah. Why?” he answered, looking up at her.
“You were just sitting there, and I kept calling.”
“I was just thinking about stuff. Do you need something?” Sandy asked.
“Do you have a blow dryer?”
“No. Sorry,” Sandy apologized.
“No worries. My hair will be a little curly,” she said with a smile as she went back up the stairs. “I’ll be ready soon,” she called back.
The anger mixed with misery within him began to evaporate. Tasha was here. That trumped everything else. He knew he had helped those boys. Without him, they might not have been found for another day or two. They might have died. There was freaking wolves, too!
She came down again thirty-five minutes later. By this time, the shock of the news about the boys was completely forgotten.
Tasha was wearing black tights tucked into black boots, a black skirt, a low cut red T-shirt that flashed cleavage, and her black café leather jacket. Her curly hair hung loosely about her head and shoulders. Sandy couldn’t recall her hair ever being like th
at. Her lips were a shade of red that matched her fingernails. Her purse swung like an afterthought from her shoulder.
Tasha didn’t look different, except for her hair, than she usually looked the hundreds of times that Sandy had seen her outside her house or at school but he hadn’t had the opportunity to say what he’d wanted to say any of those times before so he said it now.
“You are beautiful,” he said clearly, sincerely and from the heart.
Tasha’s small smile grew even wider, and her eyes lit up. “Thanks,” was all she was finally able to get out. Others had told her, including Nick, that she was beautiful. No one, besides her dad, had ever said it so sincerely or passionately. She almost felt embarrassed.
The drive to Plymouth, lunch, movie and stroll around the shopping area of the village- like mall afterwards had been wonderful. The drive back had been quiet, but comfortable. Tasha occasionally hummed along to the pop music playing on Sandy’s truck radio. The whole evening had been more than Sandy had hoped for. It felt like Tasha had a great time, too, even though she hadn’t said it. Sandy didn’t want to or didn’t need to ask. He could tell just from the glances he gave her during the drive.
Back at the house, both of them changed clothes. Tasha wore her “pajamas,” the silk shorts and oversize t-shirt, and Sandy changed into sweat pants and his Pink Floyd concert T-shirt. They were both settled in on the couch, and Tasha had left the television on some reality show that Sandy had never heard of.
A commercial came on. Sandy had only been paying partial attention.
“Tasha,” he said.
“Yes,” she said turning her head and looking at him.
“School tomorrow. Do you want a ride?” he asked. Nick had usually picked her up every morning.
“Sure. Thanks,” she answered with a smile and looked back to the TV. Sandy did too. Without looking at her, he asked “I usually bring lunch. Want me to make you one too?”
After a few seconds without an answer, Sandy looked over at Tasha.
She had a smile on her face and was looking at him and said “Yes. Thanks, Sandy,” and then playfully slapped his arm both of them laughing. The lunch date at school they’d have tomorrow in front of everyone went unspoken.
