Given Enough Time................

Doyle called. Surprising, since I haven't expected to get called by anyone from DHS, least of all Doyle. We agreed to meet this morning at The Raconteur in Metuchen.

I like Metuchen. It's a small, quiet township that for some reason sits right inside the borders of Edison Township. I like to think of it as an example of small town America, although decidedly upscale. It's quaint. It's clean. And I like to think that it doesn't suffer from the problems that other urban areas experience.

It's Main Street shopping area runs for about 3 blocks south from the train station, and has an assortment of small, niche shops such as outdoor cafes and a tobacconist.  It also has it's share of For Rent space but, considering the economy, not much. The Raconteur is a used book store - although they probably refer to it as a "pre-owned books" shop.

Doyle had said he'd meet me in the back at 11:00, but I got there early to look around. Like any used book store, they have a varied selection of hard covers and paperbacks, sorted into genres such as Mystery, History, etc. I'm guessing that they try to keep each category sorted alphabetically by author, but they only have so much space and a lot of books are just piled up near where they should go.

While I was waiting for Doyle, I actually found a copy of "At The Earth's Core" by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

The back of the store has a few wooden chairs, and is devoted to Children and Young Adult books.

While I was browsing through some of these, Doyle came through the back door.

"Denny, How's it goin'?" We shook hands. He looked the same as always. Dark suit and tie, white shirt. Government issue.
"Doyle. Good to see you. I didn't expect to hear from you again. What brings you back?"
"Just passing through on my way to New York. Thought I'd stop by to see you. After all, it's kind of an anniversary for us. Two years, buddy, since I got you into this."
I had forgotten. Or blocked it out. Whichever.
"Really? And you stopped to see me? I'm touched."
He grinned.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. Like I said, I'm on my way to New York. I'll be working security for the 9/11 celebrations."
"Yeah? Wow. That must be a plum assignment. Smith must be happy to have that."

He shook his head. "Mr. Jones is in charge of the New York coverage. In fact, Mr. Smith didn't want it."
"What? Why not?"
"Politics, Denny. Mr. Jones has always been about getting noticed, getting ahead. Mr. Smith doesn't care about those things. He's more concerned with results."
"So how does this involve politics?"
"Mr. Smith figures that if Mr. Jones does well here, he'll be fast-tracked, if not, he'll be sunk. Either way, he's out of the picture."
I had to admit it made a kind of sense.

"Anyway, Denny, I also wanted you to know not to worry about our Delaware subject - you called him Del, didn't you? Ha! Funny. Anyway, we're pretty sure that those notes he left for you were to get our attention since it looks like he's contacted us directly."
"How so?" We had been standing, but now took a couple of the chairs.
"Everyone in the DHS offices from D. C. to Boston received the same email yesterday. It contained a YouTube link to a 32 second video posted on September 3, 2006, of a ticking clock."
"For real? A ticking Clock?"
"Yep. Posted originally by a site called ratherboringvideos, one word."
"How do you know it was Del?"
"Well, we don't know for sure, but it appears to have come from the Vice President's office."
"The Vice President? As in "of the United States"?"
"That's the one. And since he used to be a senator from Delaware, well, you can see how we jumped to our conclusion."
"What do you think it means?"

He paused, thinking of the best way to answer that.
"To me, the only way to interpret it is that time is running out. For whom? How long? Why? I don't know. Other people smarter then me are working on that. Me? I gotta get to New York. Just thought that, since I was passing by and all, I'd stop by. You know?"

I knew.

We stood, shook again, and - grinning - Doyle left through the back.

I sat there for a while, thinking about the whole thing. I had this feeling that they weren't looking at it the right way. To a transplant recipient - like me, like Del - a ticking clock doesn't necessarily mean that time is running out. It means that it's still ticking..that there's still time to do something. But what?

I ran outside to try and catch Doyle. To tell him this.

The back door leads to a municipal parking lot, and there was no sign of Doyle. He probably had a driver waiting.

Del was planning something. I only hoped that Doyle's people figured it out. In time.

I went back inside. I still had to pay for my book.