Get the Picture..........

This is going to be a shorter entry then the ones that I've recently added to this extract. I haven't staged an Event recently, and I don't expect to hear from Givings, Doyle, or the People Upstairs until after the first of the year.

I don't intend to mention that the pre-Christmas season started before Halloween. I don't intend to mention that the post-Christmas season ended pretty abruptly on the 26th with The Snowstorm that Covered the East Coast.

Nor will I mention that I finally got my car dug out and on the road today - the 30th. Nor will I mention the trouble I had trying to return a pound of Starbucks Holiday Blend Coffee to a Barnes & Noble (actually, 2 Barnes & Nobles).

What I do intend to tell about is something that I've been thinking of doing for a while.......

ADD PICTURES TO THESE POSTINGS.

This is not a New Year's resolution. I don't believe in those. I do, however, have a new phone with a camera option and I think adding pictures is a good way to reinforce the reality of what I've written here.

To prove the point, here is the view from my living room window....

The building in the middle, back is the Adams Towers that I've mentioned in several previous postings.

I hope to have a picture for any new posting, where I think it might be helpful, in the future.

They do say that a picture is worth a thousand words.

Hark, the Herald.................
In the last two weeks, the entries I've made have been personal and have not had any impact on these matters. As I mentioned the last time, I had a biopsy done on the 2nd. I got the results on Friday, the 3rd - no signs of rejection. So far, two years and all is well. Except...they're playing with my tacrolimus level again. I've been for blood work on the 7th and the 14th and I'm scheduled for the 21st. If that's the only thing I have to worry about, it's all good.

There has also been Christmas shopping to do.

Oh, and I'm a Great-uncle (Grand-uncle?). My niece had a baby boy. We went to see them on the 12th. Cute kid. Just eats, sleeps, and - I presume - poops. Definitely one of the family.

Today is Sunday. I go to the 8:00 AM Mass on Sundays. It's not really altruistic. I get up every day around 7:00, do my routine (weight, blood pressure, pulse, temperature), take my pills and get on with my day. Sunday is different. I take my osteoporosis pill on Sunday, first thing. After that, I can't lie down for 45 minutes, and can't take any other pills for an hour. So I go to Mass. I do have a lot to be grateful for.

When I came out, there was Givings standing by my car. When I got within range, I used the remote to unlock the car and she got in on the passenger side. When I got in, I started up the heat - it was cold outside and in.

"This is a surprise." I said. "And you notice that I didn't say 'pleasant'. Are you here to hassle me for not doing anything for the last 2 weeks?"
"No, Mr. O'Neill. I'm not. We understand that it is the Holiday Season, and it has been unusually cold. It must not be easy to find someone out alone."
"To be honest, I haven't been looking. But you're right about the season. I did have some personal stuff to take care of."
"We know. Congratulations on the results of your biopsy, and the birth of your niece's son. Also, I am glad to see that you took care of your brakes."
Letting me know they still have a close watch on me.

"Anyway," She said, "I thought you should know of the progress that has been made since our last meeting."
"Progress? What progress? I didn't know you'd moved forward on anything."
"The People Upstairs liked your suggestion from last time. About fires...? You do remember?"
"Yeah. Of course. Just hold on a minute, OK? It's 9:00. Time for my pills."

She waited while I took them, then I gestured that she should go on.

"Over the last two weeks, we have staged two separate Random Fire Events - one in Perth Amboy and one in Rahway. Do you recall seeing anything in the papers?
 I thought for a minute or two.
"No. No, I don't remember seeing anything."
"Exactly. I believe the one in Perth Amboy was in the News Tribune. You read the Star Ledger, right? The one in Rahway wasn't mentioned at all. The People Upstairs were very impressed."
"Really? What happened? How did you set them up?"
"As I am sure you are aware, DHS consists of many previously independent groups. ICE has agents in many areas where the immigrant population converges."
"Wait. ICE? You mentioned them last time. I mentioned INS, and you said ICE. What's that?"
"Immigration and Customs Enforcement. It sounds tougher then Immigration and Naturalization Service. They are still responsible for seeking out and deporting undocumented immigrants."
"You mean Illegal Aliens."
"Whatever. They identified buildings in both locations that would make good targets, then we sent in an operative to stage the Events. Perth Amboy's was determined by the authorities to be a faulty space heater, and Rahway's was a Christmas tree too close to a heat source. Pretty much as you had predicted."
"Yeah, well, they happen every year, you know."
"Three people died in Perth Amboy and two in Rahway. Additionally, ICE has identified what appears to be five families that are now in custody awaiting extradition. There are a total of 22 family members."

She paused to let that sink in. I'd been watching the rest of the church-goers leave. We were the only ones left, but that would change when the 10:00 crowd started to arrive soon. I had no comment to make. She continued.

"Our agreement was for $1500 per person per Event. A $7500 deposit has been made to your account. The People Upstairs are debating about a monetary value for deportees, but no decision has been reached. Since they have recessed for the Holidays, I don't expect to have a resolution for this until after the First of January. Any questions?"

I looked at her. She sat there, calmly, her hands folded in her lap.
"Why did you come here? Why didn't you call for a meeting?"
She looked at me.
"I knew where you would be. If you hadn't showed up here, I would have called for a meeting, which would have postponed you're hearing this until tomorrow, at the earliest. This made sense."
"Oh. I see....So, what now?"
"Now, Mr. O'Neill, you go back to preparing for your Holidays, and we go back to preparations of our own. I believe that there will be 3 or 4 more Random Fires over the next month and a half."

She opened the door preparing to leave, then turned.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. O'Neill."

She got out, closed the door, and crossed to a black sedan parked across the street.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Givings." I said, even though she couldn't hear me.

I waited till she drove off before I left also.

I Read the News Today..............

I was waiting for this - Givings' call. I heard from her on Wednesday. She wanted to meet Thursday - yesterday - but I couldn't. I had a biopsy scheduled. Being scheduled for 8 AM doesn't mean anything because once you enter a hospital you're on "doctor's time". I got there at 7:20, and was out by 12:30 - biopsy, x-ray, and office visit all in 5 hours. That's enough for one day. I agreed to meet Givings this morning.

Usually, she likes to meet around 9 AM at the Menlo Park Mall. But since I put her off, we agreed on 11. I got there early so I figured that I'd pick the table. I got some decaf and a muffin, picked up the paper, and staked out a table in the back of the Food Court.

The local paper has a funny way of treating personal interest stories that happen in the area. The hopeful, happy ones make the front page with a nice picture. The not-so-hopeful ones get buried. I usually just read the banners, photo captions, and the location line. If it grabs me, maybe I'll read the opening paragraph. Today's paper had the follow up to an article I'd seen a day or so ago. Not a happy ending for the family.

It seems that a week ago Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, a man disappeared while out taking his morning exercise walk. There was a Silver Alert issued. Apparently he was an older guy with a history of heart-related problems. They found him Tuesday, or rather some guy walking his dog found him. He was found down the side of an embankment off Chain-of-Hills Road where it rises over a small stream. The coroner says it looks like a seizure, or heart attack. No signs of violence. No sign of a struggle. No sign of a guy with a Flasher or a bright light. First time I'd seen anything Event-related

Givings showed up and I put away the paper.

"Sorry I didn't get you any coffee. I didn't want it to get cold." I smiled. She got something from the Starbucks, and sat down.
"Mr. O'Neill, I want to apologize for the Adam's Tower situation. It didn't turn out the way I'd projected. In fact, it didn't do anything."
I kept smiling, and shrugged. I didn't think I needed to add anything.
"Anyway, Mr. Smith has informed me that he spoke to you.."
"Wait. Mr. Smith? Is that his name? Is he the guy who called me last week? He's one of the People Upstairs, right?"
"Yes. That's the name I know him by. He is one of the more important members, and the one that I get my instructions from. And Doyle, as well. I mean, he gives Doyle his instructions, too."
"What does he look like?"
"I don't know. I've never met him. I get my instructions via phone conversations and e-mails mostly. When we do meet, he tends to remain in the shadows. I take it that it's a security thing with him. But that's not the reason for this meeting. We need to discuss how to proceed."
"Discuss? You want to discuss proceeding with me? That's interesting. Usually you just have instructions."
"That has changed, at least for now. Mr. Smith feels that you might have some ideas on how to progress with Phase 2."
I sat back, using my coffee to stall a little.
"Let me see if I remember...Phase 2 was supposed to be an attempt to increase the number of victims per Event, correct?"
"Correct." She looked annoyed.
"And the Adam's Tower thing, you know, using Legionnaire's Disease, was supposed to do that only it didn't work, right?"
"Correct, again." Annoyed and a little angry. I let her stew a little, picking up my trash and dumping it in the nearest basket.
"OK. I've actually given this some thought. Do you know what you read a lot about this time of year?"
"The Holidays?..No..No, I don't recall anything specific."
"Fire. You read about fire a lot."
"Fire?"
"Yes. Fire. Caused by faulty wiring and dry Christmas trees, or candles, or space heaters in unheated rooms. There's always reports of tragic fires happening during the Holidays."
I paused and looked at her. She looked sceptical, but interested.
"Go on."
"There has to be any number of overcrowded homes in Perth Amboy, Rahway, Linden, even Edison and Woodbridge. Illegal aliens crowded into poorly ventilated, unheated houses. Any number of potential fire-traps. All you need to do is have someone who fits in - and I certainly wouldn't - go around and "Prime" the chosen sites. Then when a fire starts, an anonymous call to the Fire Department. I'd bet there'd be some loss of life."
"That does sound like it would work, but wouldn't they look suspicious?"
"I don't think so. You spread them out from now through, say, February, and I'd bet they'd only get some local coverage and they'd never be connected. And there may be a side benefit."
I left that idea dangling. She bit right away.
"What side benefit?"
"Since you'd know what was going to happen, you could have INS handy to round up the suddenly homeless. Those without papers get deported. Another reduction to the drain on our resources."
"ICE. They're known as ICE now. Not INS." But she said that distractedly.
"Whatever. It doesn't matter what they call themselves. They're still answerable to DHS, right?"
No answer. She was slowly nodding to herself, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, she pushed back her chair.
"Very interesting, Mr. O'Neill. It has a great deal of potential. Very little exposure on our part, instant results, good upside. I'll have to run this by the People Upstairs, of course, but I'm sure Mr. Smith will like it, and he carries a lot of weight with the rest."

She stood, and looked at me for a minute. Then she stuck out her hand. I shook it.

"Thank you, Mr. O'Neill".
She walked away.

Oh boy.

The Devil You Don't Know.......................

It's been over 2 weeks since the Adams Tower experiment. Two weeks with nothing to show for it. No mention in the news - TV or press, and no activity that I could see from my living room window that might indicate that the plan Givings put into effect actually worked. Two weeks! And all I've gotten is frustrated.

It didn't help that I haven't staged any Events during those weeks. I've been out, but, somehow, I never got around to anything. That, of course, added to my frustration. Until Monday............

The hospital called. They wanted to know if it would be all right to  reschedule my biopsy from today till next Thursday. It seems my cardiologist would be the only one on, and they were trying to lighten the load. I had no problem with it. Then yesterday, I began to feel less tense. Maybe subconsciously I was obsessing over the biopsy and the fact that this would be the 2nd anniversary of my transplant. Maybe there was some anxiety involved. Anxiety added to frustration. I didn't know. I didn't think so, but what did it matter. I couldn't deny that I certainly felt better, looser.

This morning, my emails contained a couple of coupons to local book stores and I decided to check them out. I know I've mentioned that I get most of my books at libraries, but if the coupon is worth it I'm game for a bookstore. Besides, I was feeling better. Since I don't have a printer for my computer, I drove up towards a friends house in Avenel to use theirs.

Driving down Remsen Avenue, I saw some guy out raking his leaves. I could feel the itch coming back, but I drove past. When I got out of the car, I saw an older man coming down Butler, walking slowly. Again, the itch.

I went inside and printed out my coupons.

When I came out, the old man was walking back up Butler away from me. I got in, drove the other way on Butler, Turned on Prospect, went down one block, left for 2 blocks, then a left on Demorest. I had the Flasher out, and the windows down. I should've found the old man at the corner of Butler, but he was no where around. Damn. I kept going on Butler, and slowed at the corner of Remsen. I could see the man raking his leaves over on my left. There was no one else around. I turned.

My windows were still down and the Flasher was still out. I pulled up along his curb.
"Excuse me. I seem to be lost. Can you help me?"
He came over, and I leaned across the seat, checking around for any traffic. No one.

Point, push, Flash. He dropped to the lawn and I drove down Remsen and made the right on to Avenel Street. I was definitely feeling better.

Avenel Street becomes Chain of Hills Road on the other side of St. George Avenue. I like to go this when when I'm heading for Barnes & Nobles. It's a quite, winding road with park-like scenery that just makes me smile. Since it runs parallel (sort of) with Routes 1 and 27, it doesn't get a lot of traffic. Just locals. I came into the middle of an S-shaped section, with a tight curve behind me and another in front. In between, on the passenger side, was some guy out power walking. I slowed. The windows were still down. I couldn't see around either curve. Here it was just me and the power walker. I slowed. The gap narrowed. Point, press, Flash. I sped up a little, but not by much. These curves can be tricky. I rounded the curve and passed a minivan going the other way. By the time I got to Green Street my phone had beeped. Confirm #1.

I was hungry, so I went to the McDonald's just the other side of Menlo Park, along Route 1. I parked, and noticed that there was someone sitting in the a car about 2 spaces over. I took my book and went inside. My phoned beeped again. Confirm #2.

When I came out, I noticed that the person was still in their car. I moved around mine, to the passenger side, and opened that door putting inside the book I had. As I turned, Flasher in hand, I realized that there were 2 people in the car. Oh well. I got in my car and drove back to the mall.

Instead of parking outside of the Barnes & Nobles, I chose to go to the parking facility on the opposite side of the mall. I had a vague idea of maybe finding someone in their car. There was a car in a handicapped spot with its blinkers on, but no one was inside. I parked, entered the mall, and did some window shopping.

When I came out, the car with the blinkers was still there, only now the blinkers were off, the headlights were on, and there was someone inside. I walked to my car, got things ready, and drove back. The handicapped spot was at the end of a row, directly across from the mall proper. There was no one around as I turned parallel to the car. I stopped and got out. Looking around, I saw no one. I heard no one. I walked to the other car. Point, press, Flash. I walked back to my car, got in, and drove away. Man, I was feeling really good.

My phone beeped again. Confirm #3. That would be all she wrote for now.

When I got home, while I was trying to decide how to record the day's Events, someone called. It was the same number Givings and Doyle used, but it wasn't them.
"Mr. O'Neill. I trust you are well?"
I recognized the voice. I'd heard it before. Back in August, with Givings. One of the People Upstairs.
"Yes. I am. Who's this?"
"Sorry. No time for that now. I just wanted to personally acknowledge your activities today. I was beginning to feel that you might be disillusioned after the Adams Tower fiasco."
"No. No. I'm good. I'm just, you know, a little startled to hear from someone other then Givings or Doyle. Is there something I can do for you?"
"There will be, but not right now. Ms. Givings is on leave for a couple of weeks. We thought it best for now. You should hear from her shortly regarding a resumption of  Phase 2. I just wanted to personally touch base with you. Check out how you were and congratulate you on reaching your second anniversary. I trust you will have a good holiday."

With that said, he hung up.

What's that they say about dealing with the devil?

  

Little, Pink Flamingo.................

I spent Thursday through Sunday of last week in Avenel, house-sitting for a friend. I enjoy doing this - it's kind of like a mini-vacation for me. This time I got to experience what the season of Autumn can be like, all within a 4-day span. Thursday was gray and rainy - a damp, chill harbinger of winter. Friday was a glorious, bright, shiny day, though cool. Saturday was down-right cold, with a wind that made it colder and tried to tear what was left of the rust-colored leaves from the trees.. Sunday was almost an exact copy of Saturday but was redeemed by the fact that I was back home in the afternoon.

There is something to be said for being home. Comfortable. Familiar surroundings and routines push away any problems that exist outside my windows. I made some coffee (instant, decaf), turned on the game, and settled back in my recliner with the crossword puzzles from the Sunday papers. And, of course, ..

Givings called. I can't say I wasn't expecting it. It had been almost 3 weeks. She wanted to meet at the Menlo Park Mall (again) so we agreed on the Cafe in the Barnes and Noble store outside the mall.

The day came with blustery, gale force winds and capped itself by intermittent sleet. I got there early, as usual, and looked around inside. There's nothing I like better then browsing through a book store, but I have to admit the I don't like the concept of people lounging around, reading for free whatever book or magazine they decided to pick up, while they nurse a cup of overpriced coffee. But that's just me.

Twenty minutes in, and I got a text from Givings. There was a gas main leak on Route 1 which was affecting traffic on Route 27, and she was going to be at least another half hour. Somehow, I couldn't see Doyle ever being late for a meeting. He'd have been prepared for any eventuality.

I wasn't going to eat here at these prices, so I drove over to the McDonald's on Route 1 just east of the mall. Probably saved myself 5 bucks. As I was finishing, Givings texted that she'd arrived. I lingered over my coffee a little, letting her wait for me. I drove back. and found her at a table near the window, with a muffin and a cup of coffee. She started right in as I sat down.

"Sorry I'm late and I  don't have a lot of time because of this delay, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just listen and hold any questions till I'm done." She paused for my reaction, so I just nodded.
"The last time we met, we spoke about 'Random Tragedies', and how the People Upstairs wanted to try them as a means of increasing the number of people eliminated. I told you that we were waiting on their approval of a particular scenario I planned out that involves the Adams Tower building near you. Remember?"
Again, I nodded.
"Good. Approval has been received, and the plan is a 'Go' for tonight.."
"Tonight?" I held up my hand, surrendering to the fact that I promised not to interrupt.
"Yes. Tonight." She paused. I said nothing. "We have the permits, and the work has already begun, although you'd probably left before they started."

Again, a pause. I just looked perplexed, which wasn't hard.

"What we have planned is a water main leak on Martin Street, at the corner of Rahway Avenue, right near the Tower. A real one. Don't ask how. It started about 9 this morning, and we've already logged the call and have Middlesex Water on the site. They will shut off the water and dig into the ground on both sides of Martin, effectively closing the street. They will stretch out the work until around 8 tonight. We want you to go to the site just after dark, and see the policeman on duty. He will give you a small package and a map of the basement to the Tower. You will  take the package into the basement, place it where the map indicates, then return outside, give the map back to the cop and go home. Any questions?"
I took my time with this. She had rattled through that very quickly, looking at her watch a lot. In hindsight, I was being a little vindictive.

"Well?" She was anxious.
"I don't see the payoff. What kind of results are you looking for?"
"I'll explain that tomorrow, once we can ascertain that the package is in place and functional."
"You can't tell me anything now?"
"No. That's how the People Upstairs want this. They want to know that you can follow directions."
"Anyone could follow that. Anyway, how do I get in? What if I'm seen?"
"We think that the weather will keep people indoors, and it should be dark enough if you wear your black jacket with the hood. The door to the basement will be conveniently open, since the work crew will have to go in to check that the repairs worked."
I started to say something else, but she got up.
"I'm sorry, but I'm behind schedule. Just follow the instructions, and we'll discuss the rest tomorrow. Where would you like to meet?" A concession for her being late?
"Since you like it here, how about the chairs in front of Macy's on the lower level at 9?"
She nodded once, turned, and walked off.

I went back to my car. Just to the left of the drivers side, I found a small, rubber, flamingo that must've been hanging off someones rear view mirror for a while. The string was still attached, and you could see where it had snapped off. How it got here, I didn't know, but I picked it up, got in my car, and tossed it into the glove compartment.

I made it a point to pass Martin Street on my way home. The Water Department was out there, digging away. And the usual cop car was there. (Have you noticed that there's always a cop car around when there's work being done on a street. Why? Do they think we won't see the workers? That we'll run into them?)

...............................................................................................................................................................

It was getting dark by 5:45, so I put on my black, hooded jacket and walked up to Martin Street. The Water guys were busy digging away. As I got closer, I saw the cop notice me, and walk back to his car. When I got there, he handed me a package and an envelop.
"Don't you want to see some ID?"
"Won't be necessary. I'm part of the crew that keeps you under surveillance. Just follow the directions in the envelop. The door in is just over there, on the other side of the dumpster." He went back to doing whatever cops do at work sites like this.

Other then the work crew, there was no one else around. The door was open, and following the map and directions in the envelop, I mad my way to the boiler room in the sub-basement, opened an access panel in some duct work, and inserted the package. Per the instructions, I pulled a tab off the top of the package, closed up the duct, made my way out, and returned the envelop to the cop.

I walked home.

This morning the Water Company crew was gone. Givings was waiting for me, looking more relaxed then she did yesterday. I started the conversation.

"You're looking better today. Everything go OK last night?"
"Yes. Perfectly. You did well."
"What, exactly did I do?"
"You placed the package where it would have the most effect, and according to the technicians, it's operating perfectly."
"Alright, so what does it do?"
"It releases spores of Legionnaire's Disease which will be wafted up through the vents as the heat rises from the boiler, eventually reaching every room in the building."
"Legionnaire's Disease? Isn't that deadly?.... Never mind. Stupid question. What kind of results do you expect? When do you expect them?"
"That's hard to say. We don't control the distribution of heat in the building, that's done through individual thermostats in the apartments. We also don't know the physical condition of the occupants, although a good majority of them are elderly. We just have to wait, and allow for the incubation period to run its course, then monitor the residents." She looked pleased. I wasn't.
"You mean to tell me that the People Upstairs OK'd this plan? It could take days... no... weeks until there's any results. That doesn't sound like the kind of plan they would want. How did you convince them?"
"It wasn't me. Apparently, there is some dissension among the members, but they did agree, finally, to do this." She was getting huffy now. "We will wait, and you will be credited for each resident that falls victim to the illness. In the meantime, you still have the Flasher. Feel free to use it!" She stormed off before I could stop her.

I couldn't believe that The People Upstairs agreed to this.
It doesn't feel right.
It doesn't feel satisfying.
Where was the Instant Gratification we, as Americans, expect?

And, besides, what did I get out of it?

All I got was a little, pink flamingo.

Some Explanations...............

Yesterday was supposed to be rainy, but when I got outside the sun was out. It was a bright, clear day, and warm, the kind of Indian Summery day I hadn't seen in a long time. I felt good. I felt in balance.

Maybe that "in balance" needs some explanation. The one thing transplant recipients and their support staff fear the most is rejection. To prevent that, they're put on anti-rejection medications - which are also classified as immuno-suppressants. I'm on tacrolimus, and it's monitored through periodic blood tests and measured on a numeric scale - the main focus being on the range between 6 and 15. Up around 15, and there's a risk of damage to other organs such as the liver, down around 6 and it's not as effective at preventing rejection. Starting in September, my level bounced back and forth between the two extremes, which required multiple blood tests, and several changes to the dosage. All that is over for now. I am back in balance. I feel good.

I got in the car and headed out on to Rahway Avenue. Up ahead I could see that the light at Freeman Street had turned red so like a lot of other people in my neighborhood I made a quick left on to Martin Terrace (this will let me bypass the light completely). There she was, an older woman heading in my direction. Maybe she came out of Finn Towers, I didn't know. It wasn't important. I looked around. No one.

There was no one else around. No pedestrians, no cars. I had the windows down, and the Flasher on the seat beside me. I had to act quickly, it was a short block. Slowing, I watched her coming on. She was moving diagonally across, probably heading for the sidewalk. We closed the gap. She came up on my driver's side, still in the street. I scanned the area again. Still no one. Point, press, Flash. I sped up quickly and turned the corner onto Ellis Place. Looking in my rear view, there was nothing. No one. Not even a woman crossing the street. I stopped at the sign at Freeman, and made the left. I had some errands to run.

Back in balance and feeling good.

It stayed warm, but the sky did cloud over a few times. I bought some stuff, returned some stuff, and wound up coming back from Edison along Middlesex Avenue (Route 27). I turned right onto Parsonage Road, with the vague thought of going to Roosevelt Park and getting some fresh air and exercise.

I passed through the housing developments, under the train tracks, and came out by the park. There was a woman in a red sweater walking along what I thought was the outside track. I made the right turn onto Oakwood and the next quick right brought me into the park's first parking area. As I drove slowly through I saw parents and their children in the playground, people fishing in the little stream. All thoughts of exercise were gone. My phone chimed. Confirmation Number One.

The road turns in through the retirement home, passed older people on benches, probably watching the younger people in the park and remembering. The road then curves back to Parsonage Road. I could see the woman in the red sweater. She wasn't on a track, but walking along the side of the road at the park's edge, inside the guide rail.

This might get tricky. Parsonage runs uphill, and I could see that side easily, but to my left there's a sharp curve as it dips back under the train tracks. I slowed. My windows were still open. I stopped at the sign. Uphill was clear, and she was getting closer, no one was behind me, but I was unsure of who might pop up from downhill. I was running out of time. She got closer.

I hit the gas, turning quickly onto Parsonage. I took a quick look behind - nothing. Point, press, Flash. I kept going, up to Oakwood again, and stopped at the red light. A couple of cars pulled up behind me. No one was honking horns. No one was yelling. The light turned green, and I made the left and kept going. By the time I'd turned off onto Thornhill, then Gill Lane my phone had chimed again. Confirmation Number Two.

I felt good. I was in balance.

Then Doyle called...................

I was to meet him this morning at Barnes & Noble outside the Menlo Park Mall. I was concerned because his instructions sounded a little "spyish" and besides, he wasn't supposed to be involved with my side of things anymore. Of course, I agreed to meet him.

On the second floor, along the side of the store facing out onto Parsonage Road, there is a gap between the shelves for Fiction and the ones for Graphic Novels. The staff has placed a display of Barnes & Noble Classics here, parallel to the windows. There are 2 chairs between the display and the windows, offering a kind of privacy to anyone sitting there. I picked up a copy of Crime and Punishment and sat down to wait. It wasn't long. Doyle's voice came to me from behind the display.

"Good to see you, Denny. How's it going?"
"What the hell? Are you really gonna hide back there?"
"Sorry. I'm not supposed to be here, but there was something I meant to explain from the last time we met. So just pretend to read your book, and just listen. Don't talk, just nod if I ask anything, OK?"
I nodded.
"Fine. Last time we met - Jeez, must be a month ago, I said it was good that you'd looked a target in the eye. You asked why, and I said I'd explain, but I had to make sure you understood the new changes, so I forgot. With me so far?"
I nodded again, making sure to play my part by turning a page now and then.
"What our Psych people told me was that this was a sign that you'd really bought in to the whole operation. You were now a real part of this. You could target someone, and take them out face to face without any qualms.  These shrinks said that you would have no problems going forward."

He paused. I sat for a while, then, because I thought he might be waiting for it, I nodded.

"You see, I was afraid that the People Upstairs were moving too fast, that you might have second thoughts when they told you what they had planned. I was relieved to see that wasn't gonna happen. I kinda grew fond of you, seeing as how you were my first recruit. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

He said nothing for a few minutes. I turned a few more pages. I probably should have been worried that someone might find us talking like this, but I know Doyle and his precautions pretty well by now.

"OK. Now don't go telling anyone about this little tete-a-tete, OK? I'm not supposed to be here. In fact, I'm in Delaware right now, checking on a possibility. Givings is your handler now. And be careful around her. She was good at taking orders, but I'm not sure how she'll be at giving them, how she'll do setting up this next stage. Watch your back."

He was quiet again. This time for too long. I got up, trying to act casual, and put the book back. I looked around the display case, but Doyle was gone. Figures.

Again, he left me a new set of questions. And a guilty feeling for pretending to read the book in the store. I hate people who do that.

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...............