In For a Penny...............

Givings called. This actually happened last week, but it's taken me some time to wrap my head around it. We met at the Menlo Park Mall, outside of Nordstrom's, on the lower level. There are some small cafe tables set up there.

She sat at what one close to the side of the escalators, where there was a semblance of some privacy. She had her back to Nordstrom's and was facing the rest of the mall. I guess she thought I would be coming from that direction, and usually I would considering that Barnes & Noble is in that direction. This time, however, I was running late, so  I parked on the far side and actually came in to her right side. I saw her before she saw me.

She had a haunted look, as if there were something troubling her. She must've felt someone looking as I got nearer, because she turned towards me and lost all expression on her face.

"Mr. O'Neill, please have a seat." All business. "How are you feeling? would you like something to eat or drink?"

She pointed to a small concession stand to the right of Nordstrom's. She had a cup of coffee and a muffin which I guess she'd gotten from there.

"No thanks." I sat. "I'm anxious to get this started. What took so long? I met with Doyle almost 2 weeks ago."
"I know, but this is all my call now. I wanted to make sure you were up to it."
"What do you mean?"
"We monitor your doctor, or didn't Doyle tell you. We knew that your tacrolimus level was elevated, and then you were concerned about you temperature, so we, or rather I, waited until I felt everything was back in sync."
"All right. Thanks, I think. Everything is fine now. Although they don't know what caused the change. Anyway, what's next? Doyle said you were upping the ante."
"Did he explain why?"
"Not really. Just that the People Upstairs were moving forward, wanting to get a 'bigger bang for their buck'."

She lowered her eyes for a minute, picking at her muffin as she gathered her thoughts. She sipped her coffee, then looked up at me.

"That's one way to put it. Lets see, how to explain this?" More coffee, some muffin. "The People Upstairs like the program, but it isn't having a big enough impact. They've decided to approach this problem in two ways - first, they have Doyle setting up similar programs, on a test basis, in neighboring states. How he's going to do this, I don't know. Doyle has moved on, for now. Second is up to me." She paused again, more coffee, but she never took her eyes off me.

I waited her out. I had nothing to say, and no reason to interrupt. I did wish I'd gotten a coffee and something to eat though. I was hungry.

"You read the papers, don't you, Mr. O'Neill? Or at least watch the news on TV?"
"Sure. I like the paper. Why?"
"Recently, we had that mine disaster in Chile. You saw that, of course. How could you miss it. That drew world-wide attention. But how many other disasters happen that are "minor', that don't draw attention outside of their own local area? Do you know?"
I said I didn't.
"Would it surprise you to know that every day, somewhere in the United States - not the rest of the world, just here - somewhere in America there's a local disaster. A fire, an earthquake, an accident, something that only makes the local papers. And in many cases, only for a day or two."
"No. I guess not. I guess random tragedies happen all over."
"Good choice of words, Mr. O'Neill. "Random Tragedies". I like that. I like that because that is what we are going to be testing out."
"What? Are you crazy? I don't understand."
"Easy, Mr. O'Neill. It is really quite simple, as the People Upstairs explained it to me."

"I gotta get some coffee." I got up and went to the concession stand. Anything to calm down. Was I hearing this right? I went back, and sat down. She continued.
"Hear me out, Mr. O'Neill. You've been pretty involved with this program since day one - in fact, you are the program, so far. Let me explain this."
I motioned for her to go on, pretending to sip at my coffee.
"The People Upstairs want to expand on what you've been doing. You see, one at a time, or in your case, three at a time, is a very small impact. They want to increase that, and at the same time, not expose themselves unnecessarily. So they have decided to use these "Random Tragedies" to their own advantage. You have to admit that there is always some loss of life in these events. They believe that they can orchestrate, over a period of time of course, several events in several different areas, that will up the victim count substantially. Do you see?"
I said nothing, at first. I tried to find a flaw in this argument, although I admit I didn't try that hard. It was appalling, yet fascinating at the same time. Finally, I had to respond.
"I get it. I understand what they're saying, but is it possible? Can it be done without being caught?"
"That's where we come in. I have been given the assignment to plan and execute, if you'll pardon the word play, a "Random Tragedy", and they want you to be the one to set it in motion."
"Why me?"
"Because you are already in the field, and we're going to do it here in your back yard, as it were. In fact, we intend to do several, over the next month or two, so we can see if there's any change in how the news media covers them. We're betting that they don't go beyond local."
"What happens then?"
"If the news stays local, we expand to other states. Hopefully, Doyle will have others like you in place. If the News goes national, we stop and reconsider."

She stopped. She was giving me time. She finished her muffin and coffee. I did too.

"Are you in, Mr. O'Neill?"
"You know I am. You wouldn't have told me if you didn't know that I'd do it."
"Of course. Just going through the formalities"
"What happens now?"
"We are finishing preparations for the first target. Once the People Upstairs approve the plan, you will be brought on board. That should take about another week. In the meantime, you still have the Flasher, so feel free to continue using it."
She got up to leave.

"Can I know what, or where, the first target will be?"
"I don't see why not." She walked over to a waste basket and through out her wrappings. She came back. "The first target is the Adam's Towers building a few blocks from your apartment." She walked away.

I knew the building. It was housing for the aged and disabled.

In for a penny...............