A Dark And Stormy Night
by rankamateur
Scarecrow and Mrs. King, and other assorted friends, enemies, neighbors and drawbridges, belong to Warner Bros. and Shoot The Moon Enterprises, Ltd.
Time: Fall. Just before the start of Season Three.
Just a little--Amanda's not even on the case but she still gets involved-- story.
This started out as a way to test the printer for unwanted Line Feeds, when using Notepad; written using a bunch of cliches--which I read you aren't supposed to do in fanfic.
Thanks to Buffy for another fine beta job (although, it's been so long, she probably forgot she did it). And to kingmissy for a thorough dissection. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
------------
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled through the nearly leafless trees and bushes. Some of the stronger gusts, drove the rain against the windows with such ferocity that visibility was, at times, reduced to near zero, and the noise could be almost deafening. Intermittently, the whole, eerie scene was illuminated by a bright flash of lightning, followed by a drum roll of thunder, which echoed and re-echoed, until it finally died away, making room for the next one. The shorter intervals between light and sound, denoted the approach of the worst of the electric storm. Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light and an enormous boom of thunder and--
"Amanda!" Dotty called out from the top of the now darkened stairs. "Are you down there?"
"Yes, Mother, stay put," Amanda called back. "I've got the flashlight right here." 'Thank goodness I got it out of the drawer and put it on the coffee table.' She flicked the switch on, and started across the family room. "I'll come upstairs, and we'll find the other flashlights."
"Okay. Oh, that's better." Dotty sounded more relaxed as the wide beam of light shone on the stairway.
Amanda climbed the last step as another loud clap of thunder shook the house.
"I don't know how those boys sleep through something like this," their grandmother observed wryly. "It woke me up half an hour ago. I gather you couldn't sleep either?"
"No, well, actually I hadn't tried yet. I wasn't sleepy so I was trying to read when the storm started to get bad. Gosh, I'm glad I don't have to be out in this!" Her thoughts went immediately to her partner, Lee Stetson, who was out in this. He was on an assignment with Frank Duffy. Billy's idea, Lee said. But maybe it was something which Lee considered to be so dangerous that he didn't want her involved. She sighed. When was he ever going to accept the fact that she knew what she was doing--pretty much--and she was quite capable of backing him up in just about any operation. As long as she didn't have to shoot somebody. 'Oh my gosh, maybe he's afraid there will be gunfire and that's why he wanted Frank and not me. Frank can shoot. All I can do is confuse the heck out of the bad guys.'
"Amanda . . . Amanda? Are we going to look for the other flashlights or are you going to stand here until the power comes back on?"
"Oh, sorry, Mother. I . . . ah, was thinking about something else. I'm sure they're in the linen cupboard. I hope the batteries are still okay."
"We should make up some kind of schedule where we check things like this . . . you know, on a regular basis. Just in case."
"Good idea. Maybe we can work on that first thing tomorrow. While this experience is fresh in our minds.
"Right."
"Oh my gosh," both women exclaimed simultaneously, as an ear shattering boom of thunder, seemed to shake the whole house.
"That was close," Dotty exclaimed.
"I know it was, Mother, but it's okay, really, we're safe in the house." Amanda thought she sounded much more convincing than she actually felt.
"Mom, Grandma, what's goin' on," Jamie inquired in a voice still heavy with sleep. "What's that noise?"
"It's all right, sweetheart, it's just a little thunder, that's all."
"Hey, why's it so dark around here?" Philip asked, his voice betraying the fact that he had just been awakened.
"The power went out, sweetie. Here." Amanda held out a flashlight, flicking the on switch as she offered the object to Philip.
"Thanks. Can we go downstairs and make some hot chocolate, or something?" Her older son would never admit to being scared of a little old storm, but he sounded as though he might need some reassurance, too.
"We can't make hot chocolate, I'm afraid. We have that pilotless ignition, and without electricity--"
"Sure we can," Dotty interrupted. "We can light the burners with a match. I think some chocolate and marshmallows would go good right about now!"
"You're right, Mother. Let's go downstairs and whip up a little instant courage."
--------------
Lee and Frank Duffy sat silently in their plain vanilla Agency sedan. They were parked just in front of another, equally unprepossessing vehicle. They had been staking out the decrepit office building, which was located in this low rent, deteriorating neighborhood, for hours. It seemed like days. Sitting on the passenger side of the front seat, Frank sipped the last few drops of the lukewarm coffee from his thermos. The wind and the rain beating against the metal roof of the car made conversation difficult, at best. But in any case, Lee was lost in his own private thoughts.
He smiled inwardly, thinking how different it would be if Amanda were here with him. They would no doubt be sitting close, maybe his arm would be around her. He wondered if she might be afraid of the storm--the lightning anyway--being so close. And the thunder was pretty impressive too. If she needed to be held, to be protected, he would have been glad to oblige. After all, she was his partner, sort of . . . . He had intended to ask her to come along as his back up tonight, but he happened to catch the forecast on the TV. It was Amanda's old boyfriend, Dan--Don--whatever, so he was aware that there was a strong possibility of really severe conditions. 'Chalk one up for the weather man,' he thought. Now he was glad that Amanda was home, just across the bridge in Arlington, safe and warm. Not here with him, sitting in a chilly car, watching Nature gone berserk--a display of light and sound more violent than he could remember seeing in years.
Suddenly there was a burst of lightening and a tremendous clap of thunder-- the brightest and loudest yet. It was obviously very close. Lee knew just how close, when he saw that the power pole a few yards in front of the car, had been struck, the wood splintering and snapping like a green twig, partially collapsing down on itself. The break was about ten feet from the top of the pole, and the severed wires, which dangled crazily from the cross-piece, began to arc and crackle. The wind blew the hot wires in front of their vehicle. Sometimes they actually touched the hood. Getting out of the car did not seem like a viable option.
Just then three men came running out of the building across the street, headed for a dark colored van. Lee couldn't see their faces but the identity of one of them was obvious. The very tall, thin man had to be Gregory--the KGB's DC Station Chief. It was the other two men whom Lee and Frank were here to observe, Rod Morgan and Mitchell Adams. A couple of average, harmless looking men who happened to be two traitors, who worked at DOD and who were providing classified documents to the Soviets. After all the hours of painstaking intelligence gathering and surveillance, ending in tonight's mission--the perps were about to drive away and there was nothing that could be done to stop them, short of shooting them. 'Why not,' Lee thought. He drew his gun, rolled down the window just enough to poke the barrel out, and, steadying the weapon on the top of the glass, took careful aim . . . .
"Scarecrow!" Duffy yelled. "What . . . " He didn't finish the sentence, but instead stuck his fingers in his ears, obviously suffering the effects of the BAM of the shot reverberating in the confined area of the sedan.
"Got it!" Lee said triumphantly, as he watched the rear tire of the van quickly deflate.
"Swell, now what? We can't get out of the car with those wires swingin' around like they are."
Lee turned and glared at his companion, knowing he was right. Unless they wanted to risk being electrocuted--they were stuck. "Yeah, but they're not goin' anywhere with that flat tire. So, we got 'em!"
The van started to pull away from the curb, but after moving forward only a few feet, it stopped.
"Oops, no we don't," Lee lamented as the three men jumped out of the van and began running through the pouring rain.
"Hey, Gregory must've realized that the tire's flat. They're getting out and running." Frank started to reach for his own pistol, then stopped.
"Maybe I can pick off the DOD guys." Lee began rolling the window down again.
"Forget it, Stetson. We really can't just shoot them down in the street. Besides, stickin' the barrel out the window might attract some lightening," Duffy pointed out, just as another bright flash illuminated the scene.
The three men soon reached a white 2-door Ford. They piled into the car and sped off down the street.
"I, ahh, oh no. They've got another car. Damn! They're gettin away!" Lee slammed his fist against the dashboard. "Ow!"
Just then, the wires went quiet, dark and dead.
"They must have turned off the power around here," Frank observed. "See if the car will start. Maybe we can still get Gregory and his pals."
Lee tried the key. After the third attempt, the engine sputtered to life, it's electrical system undamaged. Putting the car in gear, Lee made a U- turn, tires screeching in protest, as the back end of the Agency sedan began to fishtail violently, on the soaking, slippery pavement. Regaining control, Lee started down the street after their quarry.
"Slow down a little, will ya'?" Frank sounded more than a little nervous. "There might be more wires down."
"Okay, okay," Lee grumbled. He didn't want to lose them.
"Turn, turn right at the next corner." Frank pointed in the general direction the Ford had gone.
Once around the corner, Lee slowed the car and looked down what seemed to be a deserted street. He slowed even more. "Oh, no . . . " Just then, a car, a white Ford, pulled away from the curb and into the traffic lane, rapidly picking up speed.
"There they go!" Frank shouted.
"I see 'em, I see 'em!" Lee shot an angry look across the front seat. Did Frank think he was dealing some kind of rookie?
They reached the end of the block, but both Lee and Frank had failed to notice the tall, thin, slightly damp man, huddled in a doorway. Gregory would have to find a telephone, soon, or it could be a long, wet, uncomfortable walk back to the KGB's safehouse.
--------------------------------------------
After the storm had abated somewhat, Dotty and boys had gone back upstairs to try and get a little sleep. Amanda sat in the family room, listening to the sounds of the waning storm and thinking about poor Lee, out in this terrible weather. Suddenly, she became aware of a tapping noise. It seemed to be coming from the dining room. She stood up, flashlight in hand, and made her way, with no small amount of trepidation, through the kitchen and on towards the other room. 'It can't be Lee--he's working,' she thought. And besides, he always came to the kitchen. The closer she got, the louder the sound was--tap--tap--tap--at fairly regular intervals. As she approached the window, she was dismayed by the fact that she was so apprehensive about a little bit of tapping. She couldn't help but think of that story by Poe. He wasn't one of her favorites, but his works were required reading for one of her American Lit. classes. What was it? Something about a raven and tapping and rapping . . . but that was on the door, wasn't it?
She reached out a none too steady hand and pulled the curtain aside--half expecting to see a large, black bird, but . . . It was a branch, more precisely, the sharp tip of a dry, dead-looking branch. Amanda shook her head and laughed at her own foolishness. She made a mental note to trim that bush.
-------------------------
The driver of the Ford clenched the steering wheel with a death grip. The knuckles of his rather pudgy hands were turning white. And he was breathing heavily. Too much exertion tonight, at least for a man of his age and size.
His passenger kept glancing out the back window. "Rod, they're gaining on us. Can't you go a little faster?" Fear was evident in his pale blue eyes, in every feature of his thin face.
"Not if you want this car and us to stay on the road. It's slippery and full of . . . things--branches, rocks. I can't go faster!"
"Where are you going?"
"Arlington. I live there, remember? I know the area. I think I can lose them."
"I know you live in Arlington. You don't have to get all sarcastic on me. So, you're going to take them to your front door, huh?"
"Now who's getting sarcastic? NO, Mitch! I'm not gonna take them home. If they stay with us, I'll lead them to another neighborhood that's close by. I know a woman who lives on Maplewood Drive."
"I don't know why in the world I let you talk me into this--no matter how much money we can make."
----------------------
Lee sat hunched forward, on the edge of the car's bench seat, peering through the windshield. The wipers were barely keeping up with the sheets of rain. "This must be what it's like in a hurricane," he said, through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, Frank agreed. "They turned left . . . two blocks up."
"Right!" Reaching the corner, he made the turn and started to accelerate when he spotted a large branch laying across the street and blocking it completely. He slammed on the brakes. The car skidded dangerously, but stopped before running into the obstacle.
"Damn it! Now what?" He could see the taillights of the other car disappearing into the darkness.
"Wait, Stetson, look over here." Duffy gestured towards his side of the street. "There's a driveway. They must've pulled up on the sidewalk and driven between the buildings and that tree. We can do it too."
"Good thinking." Lee backed up and away from the branch. He turned the wheel and headed for the driveway. Soon they were back on the road and once again in pursuit of the Ford.
"Where do you think they're headed?" Frank wondered.
"For the bridge. Probably for Arlington." Lee gripped the wheeler even tighter. 'Arlington? Oh, no!'
"Hey, doesn't Mrs. King live in--"
"Yes," Lee cut in. "But so do a lot of other people." Yes, they did. So why did he have this sinking feeling that if these felons knew anybody in the entire town of Arlington . . . it would be Amanda!
-----------------
"I think we lost 'em," Rod said, after checking the rearview mirror and still seeing nothing behind them.
"Where are we? I'm lost."
"Don't worry, Mitch. I know exactly where we are. We're almost to the river. We'll be in Arlington and at my house in no time at all." He allowed himself to relax, just a bit.
----------------
"I see 'em! They're headed for the bridge all right. Maybe one of them lives in Arlington."
"Could be," Lee agreed, hoping fervently that was the case.
In a few minutes the drawbridge came into view. The Ford was speeding across. There was no doubt now; they were on the way to Arlington. Lee increased his speed.
"Stetson, look!" Duffy grabbed at Lee's arm. "The barrier is being lowered. That thing is just about to be raised! Don't try it!"
Frank cringed as red and white pieces of wood, the shattered remains of the safety barrier, flew around the car.
"We'll lose 'em if we don't!" Lee pressed the accelerator down even harder. It may not have been a good idea, but it was too late to change their course now. He had to get past the middle of the structure before the two halves started to separate. He could feel an ominous vibration beneath the wheels of the car. Off in the distance a bolt of lightning exploded out of the dark clouds. Then another--and another. But there was no time to admire the billion volt light show. He swore he could hear the sound of metal grinding again metal. They were running out of time and space. 'Just a little further--just a little further.' The gas pedal was already to the floor. He seemed to will the car to go even faster.
"Oh, no!" Frank was muttering, apparently a short prayer, as he waited for the inevitable . . .
"Hang on!" Lee shouted. In less than a minute--which seemed only slightly shorter than the previous decade--"We made it," he called out. It was like driving down a steep, slippery hill, but they were safe.
Duffy breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"Relax, Frank. We're doin' fine." Lee smiled, hoping he wouldn't faint.
-----------
"Oh man! I don't believe it!" Rod exclaimed.
"What? You don't believe what?"
"Look. They're right behind us again. We can't go to my house. We'll have to ditch the car on a side street and walk to Maplewood. I'm sure she'll let us use the phone. We can say we had car trouble and need to call a cab to take you home. Yeah. Now if we can just lose them for a few minutes . . . "
------------------------
"Do you see 'em? They were right in front of us. How could they just disappear? They couldn't . . . "
The visibility wasn't all that bad. The rain had slowed down to a drizzle and the wipers were keeping the windshield in pretty good shape. Frank was sitting forward, on the edge of the seat. Glancing down each side street, he suddenly commanded. "Hold it. Back up."
Lee jammed on the brakes and put the car in reverse. Following Frank's directions, he turned down the street and drove slowly, so they could check each parked car.
"There it is. A white Ford sedan. That's got to be their car."
"Yup, gotta be," Lee agreed. "Now where the hell are they?" He asked, but suspected that he knew. Their car was parked only two blocks from 4247 Maplewood Drive.
------------------------------
After the incident with the branch, Amanda had placed candles at strategic locations around the downstairs--family room, kitchen, living room, entry hall and two in the dining room. Suddenly, there was another sound. Not just a tapping--a distinct knock-- knock. This time it was at the front door. She picked up the flashlight and moved cautiously into the entryway. She peeked out the window and saw two men. The clouds were breaking up and there was enough moonlight to make out the features of her nocturnal visitors. One of them, a heavy-set, older man looked familiar. 'Oh, yeah. Of course.' It was Mr. Morgan. A neighbor with whom her mother played bridge on alternate Wednesdays.
She opened the door. "Mr. Morgan?"
"Amanda. I'm so sorry to bother you at this time of night, but my car broke down and I need to call a cab so my friend can get home. Ahh, Amanda West . . . Oh, no it's King, isn't it?"
"Yes." Amanda smiled. "That's right."
"Well," Morgan gestured to his companion. "This is Hal Bishop."
The man looked confused for a moment. "Mrs. King," he extended his hand, "so nice to meet you, even under these circumstances."
"Gentlemen, come in, please." Amanda stepped back and let the two men enter.
---------------------
The candlelight cast odd shadows on the windows. Lee could tell which was Amanda, of course. The other two shadows matched the general size and build of Morgan and Adams. Motioning to Frank to remain out of sight, he made his way around the house to the dining room. He had to get Amanda's attention, without alerting her visitors. They could be frightened, desperate and dangerous.
Lee reached out and tapped on the pane with one finger.
"What was that?" Morgan almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. He started to put down the phone.
"Oh, it's just a branch," Amanda said reassuringly. "I heard it earlier. Go ahead and make your call, Mr. Morgan"
"Maybe I should check it out," his friend volunteered.
"No, no. I'll look, but I'm sure it's just that branch again." Amanda walked into the dining room and pulled back the curtain. Only this time instead of a piece of dead shrubbery, she saw the face of a very live agent.
Lee pointed toward the living room and held up two fingers, apparently trying to indicate the two men. "Get out of there . . . now," he mouthed.
"No!" Amanda mouthed back. Checking to make sure her guests weren't watching, she opened the window just a crack. Holding her hand in front of her body, she pointed up. "My family is up there asleep. I'm not leaving," she whispered.
"Is anything wrong, Mrs. King?" Morgan called out.
"No, everything's fine. It's that branch again. Only, ahh, for a minute I thought I saw the neighbor's dog, but I was wrong. It was just a shadow." She looked back at Lee. "They're calling a cab and leaving--soon," she hissed. With that she dropped the curtain and turned away from the window.
Amanda shivered. Her earlier feeling of apprehension came back with a vengeance. Only this time it had nothing to do with the weather or an errant branch. There were two bad men in her house! Summoning all her courage, she put on what she hoped looked like a calm expression, and returned to the living room just as Mr. Morgan hung up the phone.
"Well, no guarantees, but we're on a list."
"You know, Rod, the rain has stopped and it's starting to clear up. Why don't we just walk back to your house? It's not that far. I think we've imposed on Mrs. King enough for one night." He looked at his co-conspirator intently. His tone of voice and body language gave clear indication that he was uncomfortable with the prospect of just standing around and waiting.
Rod seemed to consider the idea for a moment. "You're right. We can do that." He turned to Amanda and smiled. "Thanks very much, Amanda. I think we can safely walk and I'll call and have the cab come to my house."
"Yeah, I'm sure you can make it . . . " Amanda crossed her fingers, behind her back. 'Oh yes. Please leave.'
"We'll be going now. Thanks again."
Amanda followed her now very much unwanted guests to the front door and saw them out. "Good night." She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. How close was that to--exactly what? Maybe she didn't want to know . . . .
--------------------
As soon as the men were out of the yard and had reached the property line, Lee and Frank jumped out of the shadows, guns drawn.
"Hold it right there, boys. We've got some questions we'd like to ask you. You're coming with us."
"What for?" Mitch whined. "We haven't done anything."
"Oh, no? How about meeting with a known KGB agent, speeding and reckless driving, tryin' to evade Federal agents . . . "
"You're Feds?? We didn't know that. How could we know that?"
"You know it now. Turn around and put your hands behind your back." Lee holstered his gun and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Morgan turned and started to run.
'Good,' Lee thought. Now he had an excuse to bounce this jerk's head off the pavement a few times. Who did he think he was? Hiding out in Amanda's house and maybe putting her in danger. He caught up with the target of his anger in a few steps and whirled him around. Morgan took a wild swing at Lee, who easily ducked the blow and then landed several solid punches to the face and stomach of his adversary. In an all too brief moment, it was over.
"I've got this one cuffed. You okay?" Frank stood with his hand on Mitch Adam's shoulder.
"Yeah. Fine. And I've got him." Lee finished fastening the handcuffs on Rod. "Let's get 'em out of here."
---------------------------
The interrogation, conducted with Lee relishing the role of bad cop, went very well. When confronted with the fact that classified documents had been discovered in their homes, the perps had broken down and admitted their guilt, in spite of the advice of their lawyers. Amanda had given a short statement, describing her, involuntary, part in the operation.
Now Lee, Amanda and Frank stood in the hall, just outside the Bullpen. The trio was finished for the day.
"Well, Frank," Lee grinned and slapped his temporary partner on the back, "we made a pretty good team."
"Yeah, yeah. We got the job done. But ya know, I'd heard that the Scarecrow was being a bit more careful these days. My regular partner will be back from vacation tomorrow. Mrs. King . . . this guy's all yours!" With that, Frank turned and walked towards the elevator.
Amanda gave Lee a knowing look. He just shrugged, innocently.
-------------
Amanda stood at the front window, looking up and down Maplewood Drive. It had taken a week, but finally power was back on throughout the area. All the downed trees, branches, poles and other debris left by the storm had been cleaned up. Things were getting back to normal.
In fact:
"Amanda."
"Yes, Mother?"
"You know something? It's so odd. I thought sure Mr. Morgan would have called me by now. You know, about our bridge game. He said last time he definitely wanted me for a partner again. I hope nothing's happened to him."
"Mother, umm, I forgot to mention it, but I heard that Mr. Morgan had to leave the area--suddenly. I don't think you'll be hearing from him." Amanda shook her head, a little sadly. 'Not for the next ten or twenty years, anyway.'
end
by rankamateur
Scarecrow and Mrs. King, and other assorted friends, enemies, neighbors and drawbridges, belong to Warner Bros. and Shoot The Moon Enterprises, Ltd.
Time: Fall. Just before the start of Season Three.
Just a little--Amanda's not even on the case but she still gets involved-- story.
This started out as a way to test the printer for unwanted Line Feeds, when using Notepad; written using a bunch of cliches--which I read you aren't supposed to do in fanfic.
Thanks to Buffy for another fine beta job (although, it's been so long, she probably forgot she did it). And to kingmissy for a thorough dissection. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
------------
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled through the nearly leafless trees and bushes. Some of the stronger gusts, drove the rain against the windows with such ferocity that visibility was, at times, reduced to near zero, and the noise could be almost deafening. Intermittently, the whole, eerie scene was illuminated by a bright flash of lightning, followed by a drum roll of thunder, which echoed and re-echoed, until it finally died away, making room for the next one. The shorter intervals between light and sound, denoted the approach of the worst of the electric storm. Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light and an enormous boom of thunder and--
"Amanda!" Dotty called out from the top of the now darkened stairs. "Are you down there?"
"Yes, Mother, stay put," Amanda called back. "I've got the flashlight right here." 'Thank goodness I got it out of the drawer and put it on the coffee table.' She flicked the switch on, and started across the family room. "I'll come upstairs, and we'll find the other flashlights."
"Okay. Oh, that's better." Dotty sounded more relaxed as the wide beam of light shone on the stairway.
Amanda climbed the last step as another loud clap of thunder shook the house.
"I don't know how those boys sleep through something like this," their grandmother observed wryly. "It woke me up half an hour ago. I gather you couldn't sleep either?"
"No, well, actually I hadn't tried yet. I wasn't sleepy so I was trying to read when the storm started to get bad. Gosh, I'm glad I don't have to be out in this!" Her thoughts went immediately to her partner, Lee Stetson, who was out in this. He was on an assignment with Frank Duffy. Billy's idea, Lee said. But maybe it was something which Lee considered to be so dangerous that he didn't want her involved. She sighed. When was he ever going to accept the fact that she knew what she was doing--pretty much--and she was quite capable of backing him up in just about any operation. As long as she didn't have to shoot somebody. 'Oh my gosh, maybe he's afraid there will be gunfire and that's why he wanted Frank and not me. Frank can shoot. All I can do is confuse the heck out of the bad guys.'
"Amanda . . . Amanda? Are we going to look for the other flashlights or are you going to stand here until the power comes back on?"
"Oh, sorry, Mother. I . . . ah, was thinking about something else. I'm sure they're in the linen cupboard. I hope the batteries are still okay."
"We should make up some kind of schedule where we check things like this . . . you know, on a regular basis. Just in case."
"Good idea. Maybe we can work on that first thing tomorrow. While this experience is fresh in our minds.
"Right."
"Oh my gosh," both women exclaimed simultaneously, as an ear shattering boom of thunder, seemed to shake the whole house.
"That was close," Dotty exclaimed.
"I know it was, Mother, but it's okay, really, we're safe in the house." Amanda thought she sounded much more convincing than she actually felt.
"Mom, Grandma, what's goin' on," Jamie inquired in a voice still heavy with sleep. "What's that noise?"
"It's all right, sweetheart, it's just a little thunder, that's all."
"Hey, why's it so dark around here?" Philip asked, his voice betraying the fact that he had just been awakened.
"The power went out, sweetie. Here." Amanda held out a flashlight, flicking the on switch as she offered the object to Philip.
"Thanks. Can we go downstairs and make some hot chocolate, or something?" Her older son would never admit to being scared of a little old storm, but he sounded as though he might need some reassurance, too.
"We can't make hot chocolate, I'm afraid. We have that pilotless ignition, and without electricity--"
"Sure we can," Dotty interrupted. "We can light the burners with a match. I think some chocolate and marshmallows would go good right about now!"
"You're right, Mother. Let's go downstairs and whip up a little instant courage."
--------------
Lee and Frank Duffy sat silently in their plain vanilla Agency sedan. They were parked just in front of another, equally unprepossessing vehicle. They had been staking out the decrepit office building, which was located in this low rent, deteriorating neighborhood, for hours. It seemed like days. Sitting on the passenger side of the front seat, Frank sipped the last few drops of the lukewarm coffee from his thermos. The wind and the rain beating against the metal roof of the car made conversation difficult, at best. But in any case, Lee was lost in his own private thoughts.
He smiled inwardly, thinking how different it would be if Amanda were here with him. They would no doubt be sitting close, maybe his arm would be around her. He wondered if she might be afraid of the storm--the lightning anyway--being so close. And the thunder was pretty impressive too. If she needed to be held, to be protected, he would have been glad to oblige. After all, she was his partner, sort of . . . . He had intended to ask her to come along as his back up tonight, but he happened to catch the forecast on the TV. It was Amanda's old boyfriend, Dan--Don--whatever, so he was aware that there was a strong possibility of really severe conditions. 'Chalk one up for the weather man,' he thought. Now he was glad that Amanda was home, just across the bridge in Arlington, safe and warm. Not here with him, sitting in a chilly car, watching Nature gone berserk--a display of light and sound more violent than he could remember seeing in years.
Suddenly there was a burst of lightening and a tremendous clap of thunder-- the brightest and loudest yet. It was obviously very close. Lee knew just how close, when he saw that the power pole a few yards in front of the car, had been struck, the wood splintering and snapping like a green twig, partially collapsing down on itself. The break was about ten feet from the top of the pole, and the severed wires, which dangled crazily from the cross-piece, began to arc and crackle. The wind blew the hot wires in front of their vehicle. Sometimes they actually touched the hood. Getting out of the car did not seem like a viable option.
Just then three men came running out of the building across the street, headed for a dark colored van. Lee couldn't see their faces but the identity of one of them was obvious. The very tall, thin man had to be Gregory--the KGB's DC Station Chief. It was the other two men whom Lee and Frank were here to observe, Rod Morgan and Mitchell Adams. A couple of average, harmless looking men who happened to be two traitors, who worked at DOD and who were providing classified documents to the Soviets. After all the hours of painstaking intelligence gathering and surveillance, ending in tonight's mission--the perps were about to drive away and there was nothing that could be done to stop them, short of shooting them. 'Why not,' Lee thought. He drew his gun, rolled down the window just enough to poke the barrel out, and, steadying the weapon on the top of the glass, took careful aim . . . .
"Scarecrow!" Duffy yelled. "What . . . " He didn't finish the sentence, but instead stuck his fingers in his ears, obviously suffering the effects of the BAM of the shot reverberating in the confined area of the sedan.
"Got it!" Lee said triumphantly, as he watched the rear tire of the van quickly deflate.
"Swell, now what? We can't get out of the car with those wires swingin' around like they are."
Lee turned and glared at his companion, knowing he was right. Unless they wanted to risk being electrocuted--they were stuck. "Yeah, but they're not goin' anywhere with that flat tire. So, we got 'em!"
The van started to pull away from the curb, but after moving forward only a few feet, it stopped.
"Oops, no we don't," Lee lamented as the three men jumped out of the van and began running through the pouring rain.
"Hey, Gregory must've realized that the tire's flat. They're getting out and running." Frank started to reach for his own pistol, then stopped.
"Maybe I can pick off the DOD guys." Lee began rolling the window down again.
"Forget it, Stetson. We really can't just shoot them down in the street. Besides, stickin' the barrel out the window might attract some lightening," Duffy pointed out, just as another bright flash illuminated the scene.
The three men soon reached a white 2-door Ford. They piled into the car and sped off down the street.
"I, ahh, oh no. They've got another car. Damn! They're gettin away!" Lee slammed his fist against the dashboard. "Ow!"
Just then, the wires went quiet, dark and dead.
"They must have turned off the power around here," Frank observed. "See if the car will start. Maybe we can still get Gregory and his pals."
Lee tried the key. After the third attempt, the engine sputtered to life, it's electrical system undamaged. Putting the car in gear, Lee made a U- turn, tires screeching in protest, as the back end of the Agency sedan began to fishtail violently, on the soaking, slippery pavement. Regaining control, Lee started down the street after their quarry.
"Slow down a little, will ya'?" Frank sounded more than a little nervous. "There might be more wires down."
"Okay, okay," Lee grumbled. He didn't want to lose them.
"Turn, turn right at the next corner." Frank pointed in the general direction the Ford had gone.
Once around the corner, Lee slowed the car and looked down what seemed to be a deserted street. He slowed even more. "Oh, no . . . " Just then, a car, a white Ford, pulled away from the curb and into the traffic lane, rapidly picking up speed.
"There they go!" Frank shouted.
"I see 'em, I see 'em!" Lee shot an angry look across the front seat. Did Frank think he was dealing some kind of rookie?
They reached the end of the block, but both Lee and Frank had failed to notice the tall, thin, slightly damp man, huddled in a doorway. Gregory would have to find a telephone, soon, or it could be a long, wet, uncomfortable walk back to the KGB's safehouse.
--------------------------------------------
After the storm had abated somewhat, Dotty and boys had gone back upstairs to try and get a little sleep. Amanda sat in the family room, listening to the sounds of the waning storm and thinking about poor Lee, out in this terrible weather. Suddenly, she became aware of a tapping noise. It seemed to be coming from the dining room. She stood up, flashlight in hand, and made her way, with no small amount of trepidation, through the kitchen and on towards the other room. 'It can't be Lee--he's working,' she thought. And besides, he always came to the kitchen. The closer she got, the louder the sound was--tap--tap--tap--at fairly regular intervals. As she approached the window, she was dismayed by the fact that she was so apprehensive about a little bit of tapping. She couldn't help but think of that story by Poe. He wasn't one of her favorites, but his works were required reading for one of her American Lit. classes. What was it? Something about a raven and tapping and rapping . . . but that was on the door, wasn't it?
She reached out a none too steady hand and pulled the curtain aside--half expecting to see a large, black bird, but . . . It was a branch, more precisely, the sharp tip of a dry, dead-looking branch. Amanda shook her head and laughed at her own foolishness. She made a mental note to trim that bush.
-------------------------
The driver of the Ford clenched the steering wheel with a death grip. The knuckles of his rather pudgy hands were turning white. And he was breathing heavily. Too much exertion tonight, at least for a man of his age and size.
His passenger kept glancing out the back window. "Rod, they're gaining on us. Can't you go a little faster?" Fear was evident in his pale blue eyes, in every feature of his thin face.
"Not if you want this car and us to stay on the road. It's slippery and full of . . . things--branches, rocks. I can't go faster!"
"Where are you going?"
"Arlington. I live there, remember? I know the area. I think I can lose them."
"I know you live in Arlington. You don't have to get all sarcastic on me. So, you're going to take them to your front door, huh?"
"Now who's getting sarcastic? NO, Mitch! I'm not gonna take them home. If they stay with us, I'll lead them to another neighborhood that's close by. I know a woman who lives on Maplewood Drive."
"I don't know why in the world I let you talk me into this--no matter how much money we can make."
----------------------
Lee sat hunched forward, on the edge of the car's bench seat, peering through the windshield. The wipers were barely keeping up with the sheets of rain. "This must be what it's like in a hurricane," he said, through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, Frank agreed. "They turned left . . . two blocks up."
"Right!" Reaching the corner, he made the turn and started to accelerate when he spotted a large branch laying across the street and blocking it completely. He slammed on the brakes. The car skidded dangerously, but stopped before running into the obstacle.
"Damn it! Now what?" He could see the taillights of the other car disappearing into the darkness.
"Wait, Stetson, look over here." Duffy gestured towards his side of the street. "There's a driveway. They must've pulled up on the sidewalk and driven between the buildings and that tree. We can do it too."
"Good thinking." Lee backed up and away from the branch. He turned the wheel and headed for the driveway. Soon they were back on the road and once again in pursuit of the Ford.
"Where do you think they're headed?" Frank wondered.
"For the bridge. Probably for Arlington." Lee gripped the wheeler even tighter. 'Arlington? Oh, no!'
"Hey, doesn't Mrs. King live in--"
"Yes," Lee cut in. "But so do a lot of other people." Yes, they did. So why did he have this sinking feeling that if these felons knew anybody in the entire town of Arlington . . . it would be Amanda!
-----------------
"I think we lost 'em," Rod said, after checking the rearview mirror and still seeing nothing behind them.
"Where are we? I'm lost."
"Don't worry, Mitch. I know exactly where we are. We're almost to the river. We'll be in Arlington and at my house in no time at all." He allowed himself to relax, just a bit.
----------------
"I see 'em! They're headed for the bridge all right. Maybe one of them lives in Arlington."
"Could be," Lee agreed, hoping fervently that was the case.
In a few minutes the drawbridge came into view. The Ford was speeding across. There was no doubt now; they were on the way to Arlington. Lee increased his speed.
"Stetson, look!" Duffy grabbed at Lee's arm. "The barrier is being lowered. That thing is just about to be raised! Don't try it!"
Frank cringed as red and white pieces of wood, the shattered remains of the safety barrier, flew around the car.
"We'll lose 'em if we don't!" Lee pressed the accelerator down even harder. It may not have been a good idea, but it was too late to change their course now. He had to get past the middle of the structure before the two halves started to separate. He could feel an ominous vibration beneath the wheels of the car. Off in the distance a bolt of lightning exploded out of the dark clouds. Then another--and another. But there was no time to admire the billion volt light show. He swore he could hear the sound of metal grinding again metal. They were running out of time and space. 'Just a little further--just a little further.' The gas pedal was already to the floor. He seemed to will the car to go even faster.
"Oh, no!" Frank was muttering, apparently a short prayer, as he waited for the inevitable . . .
"Hang on!" Lee shouted. In less than a minute--which seemed only slightly shorter than the previous decade--"We made it," he called out. It was like driving down a steep, slippery hill, but they were safe.
Duffy breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"Relax, Frank. We're doin' fine." Lee smiled, hoping he wouldn't faint.
-----------
"Oh man! I don't believe it!" Rod exclaimed.
"What? You don't believe what?"
"Look. They're right behind us again. We can't go to my house. We'll have to ditch the car on a side street and walk to Maplewood. I'm sure she'll let us use the phone. We can say we had car trouble and need to call a cab to take you home. Yeah. Now if we can just lose them for a few minutes . . . "
------------------------
"Do you see 'em? They were right in front of us. How could they just disappear? They couldn't . . . "
The visibility wasn't all that bad. The rain had slowed down to a drizzle and the wipers were keeping the windshield in pretty good shape. Frank was sitting forward, on the edge of the seat. Glancing down each side street, he suddenly commanded. "Hold it. Back up."
Lee jammed on the brakes and put the car in reverse. Following Frank's directions, he turned down the street and drove slowly, so they could check each parked car.
"There it is. A white Ford sedan. That's got to be their car."
"Yup, gotta be," Lee agreed. "Now where the hell are they?" He asked, but suspected that he knew. Their car was parked only two blocks from 4247 Maplewood Drive.
------------------------------
After the incident with the branch, Amanda had placed candles at strategic locations around the downstairs--family room, kitchen, living room, entry hall and two in the dining room. Suddenly, there was another sound. Not just a tapping--a distinct knock-- knock. This time it was at the front door. She picked up the flashlight and moved cautiously into the entryway. She peeked out the window and saw two men. The clouds were breaking up and there was enough moonlight to make out the features of her nocturnal visitors. One of them, a heavy-set, older man looked familiar. 'Oh, yeah. Of course.' It was Mr. Morgan. A neighbor with whom her mother played bridge on alternate Wednesdays.
She opened the door. "Mr. Morgan?"
"Amanda. I'm so sorry to bother you at this time of night, but my car broke down and I need to call a cab so my friend can get home. Ahh, Amanda West . . . Oh, no it's King, isn't it?"
"Yes." Amanda smiled. "That's right."
"Well," Morgan gestured to his companion. "This is Hal Bishop."
The man looked confused for a moment. "Mrs. King," he extended his hand, "so nice to meet you, even under these circumstances."
"Gentlemen, come in, please." Amanda stepped back and let the two men enter.
---------------------
The candlelight cast odd shadows on the windows. Lee could tell which was Amanda, of course. The other two shadows matched the general size and build of Morgan and Adams. Motioning to Frank to remain out of sight, he made his way around the house to the dining room. He had to get Amanda's attention, without alerting her visitors. They could be frightened, desperate and dangerous.
Lee reached out and tapped on the pane with one finger.
"What was that?" Morgan almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. He started to put down the phone.
"Oh, it's just a branch," Amanda said reassuringly. "I heard it earlier. Go ahead and make your call, Mr. Morgan"
"Maybe I should check it out," his friend volunteered.
"No, no. I'll look, but I'm sure it's just that branch again." Amanda walked into the dining room and pulled back the curtain. Only this time instead of a piece of dead shrubbery, she saw the face of a very live agent.
Lee pointed toward the living room and held up two fingers, apparently trying to indicate the two men. "Get out of there . . . now," he mouthed.
"No!" Amanda mouthed back. Checking to make sure her guests weren't watching, she opened the window just a crack. Holding her hand in front of her body, she pointed up. "My family is up there asleep. I'm not leaving," she whispered.
"Is anything wrong, Mrs. King?" Morgan called out.
"No, everything's fine. It's that branch again. Only, ahh, for a minute I thought I saw the neighbor's dog, but I was wrong. It was just a shadow." She looked back at Lee. "They're calling a cab and leaving--soon," she hissed. With that she dropped the curtain and turned away from the window.
Amanda shivered. Her earlier feeling of apprehension came back with a vengeance. Only this time it had nothing to do with the weather or an errant branch. There were two bad men in her house! Summoning all her courage, she put on what she hoped looked like a calm expression, and returned to the living room just as Mr. Morgan hung up the phone.
"Well, no guarantees, but we're on a list."
"You know, Rod, the rain has stopped and it's starting to clear up. Why don't we just walk back to your house? It's not that far. I think we've imposed on Mrs. King enough for one night." He looked at his co-conspirator intently. His tone of voice and body language gave clear indication that he was uncomfortable with the prospect of just standing around and waiting.
Rod seemed to consider the idea for a moment. "You're right. We can do that." He turned to Amanda and smiled. "Thanks very much, Amanda. I think we can safely walk and I'll call and have the cab come to my house."
"Yeah, I'm sure you can make it . . . " Amanda crossed her fingers, behind her back. 'Oh yes. Please leave.'
"We'll be going now. Thanks again."
Amanda followed her now very much unwanted guests to the front door and saw them out. "Good night." She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. How close was that to--exactly what? Maybe she didn't want to know . . . .
--------------------
As soon as the men were out of the yard and had reached the property line, Lee and Frank jumped out of the shadows, guns drawn.
"Hold it right there, boys. We've got some questions we'd like to ask you. You're coming with us."
"What for?" Mitch whined. "We haven't done anything."
"Oh, no? How about meeting with a known KGB agent, speeding and reckless driving, tryin' to evade Federal agents . . . "
"You're Feds?? We didn't know that. How could we know that?"
"You know it now. Turn around and put your hands behind your back." Lee holstered his gun and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Morgan turned and started to run.
'Good,' Lee thought. Now he had an excuse to bounce this jerk's head off the pavement a few times. Who did he think he was? Hiding out in Amanda's house and maybe putting her in danger. He caught up with the target of his anger in a few steps and whirled him around. Morgan took a wild swing at Lee, who easily ducked the blow and then landed several solid punches to the face and stomach of his adversary. In an all too brief moment, it was over.
"I've got this one cuffed. You okay?" Frank stood with his hand on Mitch Adam's shoulder.
"Yeah. Fine. And I've got him." Lee finished fastening the handcuffs on Rod. "Let's get 'em out of here."
---------------------------
The interrogation, conducted with Lee relishing the role of bad cop, went very well. When confronted with the fact that classified documents had been discovered in their homes, the perps had broken down and admitted their guilt, in spite of the advice of their lawyers. Amanda had given a short statement, describing her, involuntary, part in the operation.
Now Lee, Amanda and Frank stood in the hall, just outside the Bullpen. The trio was finished for the day.
"Well, Frank," Lee grinned and slapped his temporary partner on the back, "we made a pretty good team."
"Yeah, yeah. We got the job done. But ya know, I'd heard that the Scarecrow was being a bit more careful these days. My regular partner will be back from vacation tomorrow. Mrs. King . . . this guy's all yours!" With that, Frank turned and walked towards the elevator.
Amanda gave Lee a knowing look. He just shrugged, innocently.
-------------
Amanda stood at the front window, looking up and down Maplewood Drive. It had taken a week, but finally power was back on throughout the area. All the downed trees, branches, poles and other debris left by the storm had been cleaned up. Things were getting back to normal.
In fact:
"Amanda."
"Yes, Mother?"
"You know something? It's so odd. I thought sure Mr. Morgan would have called me by now. You know, about our bridge game. He said last time he definitely wanted me for a partner again. I hope nothing's happened to him."
"Mother, umm, I forgot to mention it, but I heard that Mr. Morgan had to leave the area--suddenly. I don't think you'll be hearing from him." Amanda shook her head, a little sadly. 'Not for the next ten or twenty years, anyway.'
end
