The Alpha Five Oscar (Part 5)
As they fled through the darkness, they nearly passed the greenhouse. It was a dilapidated structure, concealed by tall scraggly bushes. Stetson skidded to a stop and flung the door open, nearly tearing it from the hinges. He pulled Amanda inside.
The rain came straight down through the many broken panes and splashed morosely on the rotting, empty benches. Stetson led the way to the rear where the greenhouse was attached to a shop and storage area. Here the roof was better and, on one side, bales of old straw were piled nearly to the ceiling.
"They'll be swarming at the fences and going over and under every car that tries to leave." Stetson said, leaning on the straw. Suddenly he looked up with an inspiration. "Okay."
"What?"
"Come on, Amanda, up, up!" He boosted her up and she scrambled to the top of the straw. Stetson clambered after her, slipping into the narrow space on his stomach just inches from the rafters. Amanda sneezed softly.
"You don't suppose we'll be spending a lot of time up here, do you?" she whispered.
"I hope not." He wriggled up on his elbows so he could see out into the greenhouse.
She shifted on to her side, shivering, forcing Stetson to shift as well. "Don't I remember something about you asking me to dinner tonight?"
"I recall something like that. Was that really just today?"
"Uh-huh. I don't suppose you saved any of those tarts."
He shook his head. Amanda shivered again and Stetson struggled out of his jacket, his shoulders banging on the roof and the case of papers cascading out. "I'm sorry," he said, draping the damp coat over her, "it isn't much."
"That's all right." Amanda began pulling the loose papers together and putting them neatly back into the case.
He moved closer to her, lying on his side. She was completely disheveled, her brown curls sticking wetly to her face, straw clinging to the rain ruined evening clothes. She finished with the papers and looked at him.
"Do you have a plan yet?
"No."
"That's all right, you will."
She had faith in him. She trusted him. He was afraid she would be able to hear his heart pounding.
"I'm starving." She said.
"I know."
"I'm tired."
"I know."
"I wouldn't even care if Francine popped up and said," Amanda put on her best Francine voice, "Well, isn't this cozy?"
Grinning, Stetson said, "You really are tired."
She pulled the jacket tighter and shivered.
The greenhouse door banged open and they froze. Footsteps came across the floor towards the shop. He stopped near the straw and fumbled about for a moment. There was the unmistakable sound of a match being struck and moments later, the smell of cigarette smoke came up to them. The man was there for several minutes, smoking and standing out of the rain. Then his footsteps crossed the greenhouse again and he went back outside. Stetson let out a lung full of air
"Amanda."
"Hm?" she had her eyes closed.
"I'm really sorry about this."
"I know."
"But."
"Yes?"
"But, I'm really glad you're here."
She opened her eyes again and smiled. She really was beautiful, wet hair or not. Jeans or formal wear. It was Amanda King, the person, that was beautiful. He found himself leaning towards her, falling and falling and falling, into those eyes and kissing her slowly. "Well," he said huskily, "Isn't this cozy?" And his lips found hers again, longer, deeper, his fingers brushing down the arch of her neck, followed by his kisses.
"Lee." She whispered his name into his ear when she kissed it.
He pulled away slowly, eyes closed. This certainly wasn't the time or place. It would be deadly to forget where they were and why. But it never seemed to be the right time or place. Soon, he thought, he would remedy that, but for now, he had to focus on keeping the both of them alive.
Amanda was looking at him. She could see him thinking, saw him retreat back into his cool secret agent mode and she looked away. It was almost as if he wanted to break her heart, one moment full of passion and the next distant and cold. She squeezed her eyes shut and angrily forbid them to cry.
"Amanda." He said, gently pulling her face back to his. "I - I've been meaning to talk to you, you know....about us. But, just now, I have to get us out of this mess first." He smiled, "You're being awfully damn distracting."
Her heart skipped. She should have realized what he was doing. He didn't want to break her heart, he was trying to save it. Amanda pulled him down and kissed him again. "Okay. I'll stop distracting you....for now."
"Well, since we're just sort of stuck here, waiting...." He leaned down again but stopped short, sniffing the air. "I have an idea."
"Do you have to have it right now?"
He kissed her lightly and shrugged, "I need a match."
It was Amanda's turn to shrug, "I don't think Mrs. James Lunde smokes."
"No...but I know someone who does. Be right back." He pushed himself over the edge of the bales and disappeared.
The greenhouse shop area was filled with old paint buckets, broken bags of fertilizer, lawnmower parts and an excess of rusty junk. He scooped up a few buckets of paint and returned to the straw pile. There, he searched the floor for a few moments and found what he was looking for. The guard's cigarette butt still smoldered on the floor. He handed the paint buckets up to Amanda and, cradling the cigarette butt, he climbed back onto the straw.
Amanda looked at the paint buckets. "Are we going to paint something?"
"What's a fire without skyrockets?"
She gasped. "You're going to burn this greenhouse down. That's arson."
He gave her a wry look. "Do you really think it's worth saving? Besides, the fire department will come. And....and we'll improvise from there. If nothing else, everyone from the party can roast hot dogs."
"Don't you dare mention food."
He held the cigarette butt close to the straw and blew on it gently. The end glowed brightly and a flame erupted. He fanned it carefully until it burned steadily then began to spread. "Come on down."
They both scrambled down. Amanda handed him the suit jacket and the leather case. "Here, put your jacket back on, that white shirt makes you look like a flashlight."
Outside the grounds, still waiting, Billy Melrose shifted uncomfortably and sighed. Waiting without sufficient information was nerve wracking. The rain had slowed to a light spattering on the windshield. Francine sat beside him, eyes closed, but she was as far from sleep as he. George Lehman had been, mercifully, sent home with his cupcakes and a guard. The phone beeped twice and Melrose snatched it up, Francine instantly alert.
"Melrose."
"Post three, Sir. There seems to be something going on towards the rear of the estate. I think it might be a fire."
Francine grinned, "He's sending us a flare!"
Melrose took the wind out of her sails, "Maybe it was lightning." Into the phone he said, "Okay, Carl. Keep me informed if anything else happens....and be on your toes. If it is Scarecrow, anything could happen."
"How are you going to play it, Billy?"
He began to dial his phone, "I think I'll talk to the fire department."
Galpin stalked angrily down the hallway of the mansion. Things were going from rotten to a hot dark place in hell. Lehman was gone, his papers were gone, and he had a viscous headache where the American agent had mashed him. But all was not yet lost, he grinned hungrily, the agent and his partner were surely still on the grounds. There was no escape route he had not blocked. They would be found if it took all night and their payment would be high.
Vaskov came sprinting around a corner. "There's a fire in the old greenhouse!" he panted.
Galpin was stunned, then furious. "It's a diversion, get your men to cover the walls! Let's get them!" he bellowed.
Stetson and Amanda crouched in the heavy shrubbery just beyond the driveway. The fire from the greenhouse reflected on the windows of the house, creating a warm orange glow. As a fire engine with sirens blaring, roared up the driveway, guests poured out of the house. Vaskov attempted to herd them back without much success. The rear of the greenhouse was snapping streamers of fire thirty feet in the air, paint cans adding the occasional explosion.
"Please," Vaskov pleaded, "I really think we should go in and let the firemen do their work, please!"
They ignored him, surging forward for a better look. As they stood there, mesmerized by the flames, Stetson and Amanda rose from the shrubs and mingled with the crowd, trying to look normal in their damp clothing. Hand in hand, they worked their way towards the fire truck. The captain was near the truck, directing his men as they began to pull hoses from the truck. Stetson got as close to him as he thought he could without attracting too much attention. "Captain?" he hissed loudly.
The Captain barely looked at him, keeping his attention on the fire. "You the Scarecrow?"
"Yes."
"I talked to someone named Melrose about you. Hey, Kendall, come 'ere."
A huge man with yards of hose looped over his shoulder ambled up and moved behind the group, cutting Stetson and Amanda off from the crowd with a few unobtrusive steps. The Captain flung open two equipment doors, shielding them on two sides, he and Kendall concealing them from behind. In moments, they had changed from formal wear to fire wear complete with helmets and boots. Then the Captain handed Stetson a hose loop. "You and Kendall string the hose out. She'll stay at the control panel with me." Stetson and Amanda locked gazes for a brief second, then he was away and the Captain helped her lock the end of a hose on an outlet valve.
The fire was quickly brought under control but the firemen stayed until only a few thin streamers of smoke rose from the rubble. Stetson, face black with soot, glanced about for Amanda as he helped load the hoses. The guests had finally departed and dawn was fast approaching, if they didn't leave soon, someone was bound to recognize him. As it was, the security people were still lurking everywhere. Amanda was nowhere to be seen and the Captain was talking to Galpin.
"Listen, Buddy, I don't know what's going on here, but this fire was SET. And, I can guarantee you the fire inspector will be out here tomorrow looking into it."
"Captain!" Kendall hollered, "We're loaded."
The Captain nodded, "And don't you touch nothin' until he gets here. I don't give a diddly about your diplomatic status." He wheeled away from Galpin and jumped up into the truck, motioning his men aboard. Stetson took a position behind the cab and caught the Captain's eye. The concern must have been obvious on his face, because the Captain grinned and nodded, but said nothing. As they approached the gate, for a moment it looked as though the guards might not let them pass, but the driver gave them a blast on the air horn and made it obvious that the truck was not going to stop. The guards pulled the gate open quickly and the truck slipped though into the dawn.
Several blocks away, the pumper truck pulled into the parking lot of the same convenience store where George Lehman had made his phone call many hours before. Melrose and Francine stood waiting by an agency car. Stetson jumped off the truck, followed by the Captain. He quickly peeled off his firecoat, reached inside his shirt and pulled out the leather case, handing it to Melrose. He turned to the Captain, "Amanda?" He asked breathlessly. But, even as he asked, he looked beyond the Captain's shoulder and Amanda was climbing down from the driver's seat of the fire truck.
She came to them smiling happily, "Oh! I have always wanted to do that!" She peeled off her fire fighting clothing, still wearing the wet, formal clothing underneath. Stetson swept her into his arms and hugged her with relief. And then stepped back sheepishly. Billy Melrose was grinning from ear to ear. Francine pulled a strand of straw from Stetson's shirt, then cocking her head, pulled several more from Amanda's blouse.
"Have a nice lunch?" She asked.
"Um, we...ah..." Stetson stammered.
Amanda leaned towards Stetson and whispered, "I think we just made the top ten on the rumor net."
Lee Stetson's silver corvette pulled up in front of 4247 Maplewood and stopped. Stetson, somewhat cleaner, but still in the damp tuxedo, looked over to the passenger seat where Amanda had the seat fully reclined. She was asleep. Her clothes were much worse for wear than his and still damp as well. Billy had not put them through a debriefing. Instead, they had eaten, saying little until Amanda began to fall asleep into her food. Stetson had brought her home, promising to have the agency deliver her car later.
"Amanda....Amanda." He ran his fingers over her hair.
She dragged herself out of sleep with a huge effort.
"You're home."
She squinted out the window. "Home." She said, "Home, bed, food." She looked down at her clothes. "Would you like to come in and explain this mess to my mother? This isn't even close to what I was wearing when I left home....um....yesterday morning."
"No, I would not. Besides, if you're lucky, everyone will still be asleep and you can make it upstairs and get changed before anyone notices."
Amanda nodded skeptically. "Sure."
"Well, maybe you should keep an extra change of clothing at the office....or maybe at my place, just for times like this."
"Oh, you think so, do you?"
"Well, sure, I--" Stetson suddenly developed an unnatural interest in his steering wheel. He was silent.
Amanda brought the seat up, "Well, I guess I'd better be sneaking off to my house. Why do I suddenly feel like I've stayed out all night after the prom?"
Stetson touched her arm to stop her from getting out of the car, "Um...how about dinner tonight?"
"Well, I don't know...after yesterdays lunch, I don't think planning to eat with you is very safe."
"At my place."
"Is that supposed to make me feel safer?"
Stetson grinned hugely. "Uh-huh. No Billy. No Francine. No foreign intrigue."
"No intrigue?"
Stetson leaned to kiss her lightly, "Well, maybe we can work on a little domestic intrigue."
"It's a date, Scarecrow."
THE END.
As they fled through the darkness, they nearly passed the greenhouse. It was a dilapidated structure, concealed by tall scraggly bushes. Stetson skidded to a stop and flung the door open, nearly tearing it from the hinges. He pulled Amanda inside.
The rain came straight down through the many broken panes and splashed morosely on the rotting, empty benches. Stetson led the way to the rear where the greenhouse was attached to a shop and storage area. Here the roof was better and, on one side, bales of old straw were piled nearly to the ceiling.
"They'll be swarming at the fences and going over and under every car that tries to leave." Stetson said, leaning on the straw. Suddenly he looked up with an inspiration. "Okay."
"What?"
"Come on, Amanda, up, up!" He boosted her up and she scrambled to the top of the straw. Stetson clambered after her, slipping into the narrow space on his stomach just inches from the rafters. Amanda sneezed softly.
"You don't suppose we'll be spending a lot of time up here, do you?" she whispered.
"I hope not." He wriggled up on his elbows so he could see out into the greenhouse.
She shifted on to her side, shivering, forcing Stetson to shift as well. "Don't I remember something about you asking me to dinner tonight?"
"I recall something like that. Was that really just today?"
"Uh-huh. I don't suppose you saved any of those tarts."
He shook his head. Amanda shivered again and Stetson struggled out of his jacket, his shoulders banging on the roof and the case of papers cascading out. "I'm sorry," he said, draping the damp coat over her, "it isn't much."
"That's all right." Amanda began pulling the loose papers together and putting them neatly back into the case.
He moved closer to her, lying on his side. She was completely disheveled, her brown curls sticking wetly to her face, straw clinging to the rain ruined evening clothes. She finished with the papers and looked at him.
"Do you have a plan yet?
"No."
"That's all right, you will."
She had faith in him. She trusted him. He was afraid she would be able to hear his heart pounding.
"I'm starving." She said.
"I know."
"I'm tired."
"I know."
"I wouldn't even care if Francine popped up and said," Amanda put on her best Francine voice, "Well, isn't this cozy?"
Grinning, Stetson said, "You really are tired."
She pulled the jacket tighter and shivered.
The greenhouse door banged open and they froze. Footsteps came across the floor towards the shop. He stopped near the straw and fumbled about for a moment. There was the unmistakable sound of a match being struck and moments later, the smell of cigarette smoke came up to them. The man was there for several minutes, smoking and standing out of the rain. Then his footsteps crossed the greenhouse again and he went back outside. Stetson let out a lung full of air
"Amanda."
"Hm?" she had her eyes closed.
"I'm really sorry about this."
"I know."
"But."
"Yes?"
"But, I'm really glad you're here."
She opened her eyes again and smiled. She really was beautiful, wet hair or not. Jeans or formal wear. It was Amanda King, the person, that was beautiful. He found himself leaning towards her, falling and falling and falling, into those eyes and kissing her slowly. "Well," he said huskily, "Isn't this cozy?" And his lips found hers again, longer, deeper, his fingers brushing down the arch of her neck, followed by his kisses.
"Lee." She whispered his name into his ear when she kissed it.
He pulled away slowly, eyes closed. This certainly wasn't the time or place. It would be deadly to forget where they were and why. But it never seemed to be the right time or place. Soon, he thought, he would remedy that, but for now, he had to focus on keeping the both of them alive.
Amanda was looking at him. She could see him thinking, saw him retreat back into his cool secret agent mode and she looked away. It was almost as if he wanted to break her heart, one moment full of passion and the next distant and cold. She squeezed her eyes shut and angrily forbid them to cry.
"Amanda." He said, gently pulling her face back to his. "I - I've been meaning to talk to you, you know....about us. But, just now, I have to get us out of this mess first." He smiled, "You're being awfully damn distracting."
Her heart skipped. She should have realized what he was doing. He didn't want to break her heart, he was trying to save it. Amanda pulled him down and kissed him again. "Okay. I'll stop distracting you....for now."
"Well, since we're just sort of stuck here, waiting...." He leaned down again but stopped short, sniffing the air. "I have an idea."
"Do you have to have it right now?"
He kissed her lightly and shrugged, "I need a match."
It was Amanda's turn to shrug, "I don't think Mrs. James Lunde smokes."
"No...but I know someone who does. Be right back." He pushed himself over the edge of the bales and disappeared.
The greenhouse shop area was filled with old paint buckets, broken bags of fertilizer, lawnmower parts and an excess of rusty junk. He scooped up a few buckets of paint and returned to the straw pile. There, he searched the floor for a few moments and found what he was looking for. The guard's cigarette butt still smoldered on the floor. He handed the paint buckets up to Amanda and, cradling the cigarette butt, he climbed back onto the straw.
Amanda looked at the paint buckets. "Are we going to paint something?"
"What's a fire without skyrockets?"
She gasped. "You're going to burn this greenhouse down. That's arson."
He gave her a wry look. "Do you really think it's worth saving? Besides, the fire department will come. And....and we'll improvise from there. If nothing else, everyone from the party can roast hot dogs."
"Don't you dare mention food."
He held the cigarette butt close to the straw and blew on it gently. The end glowed brightly and a flame erupted. He fanned it carefully until it burned steadily then began to spread. "Come on down."
They both scrambled down. Amanda handed him the suit jacket and the leather case. "Here, put your jacket back on, that white shirt makes you look like a flashlight."
Outside the grounds, still waiting, Billy Melrose shifted uncomfortably and sighed. Waiting without sufficient information was nerve wracking. The rain had slowed to a light spattering on the windshield. Francine sat beside him, eyes closed, but she was as far from sleep as he. George Lehman had been, mercifully, sent home with his cupcakes and a guard. The phone beeped twice and Melrose snatched it up, Francine instantly alert.
"Melrose."
"Post three, Sir. There seems to be something going on towards the rear of the estate. I think it might be a fire."
Francine grinned, "He's sending us a flare!"
Melrose took the wind out of her sails, "Maybe it was lightning." Into the phone he said, "Okay, Carl. Keep me informed if anything else happens....and be on your toes. If it is Scarecrow, anything could happen."
"How are you going to play it, Billy?"
He began to dial his phone, "I think I'll talk to the fire department."
Galpin stalked angrily down the hallway of the mansion. Things were going from rotten to a hot dark place in hell. Lehman was gone, his papers were gone, and he had a viscous headache where the American agent had mashed him. But all was not yet lost, he grinned hungrily, the agent and his partner were surely still on the grounds. There was no escape route he had not blocked. They would be found if it took all night and their payment would be high.
Vaskov came sprinting around a corner. "There's a fire in the old greenhouse!" he panted.
Galpin was stunned, then furious. "It's a diversion, get your men to cover the walls! Let's get them!" he bellowed.
Stetson and Amanda crouched in the heavy shrubbery just beyond the driveway. The fire from the greenhouse reflected on the windows of the house, creating a warm orange glow. As a fire engine with sirens blaring, roared up the driveway, guests poured out of the house. Vaskov attempted to herd them back without much success. The rear of the greenhouse was snapping streamers of fire thirty feet in the air, paint cans adding the occasional explosion.
"Please," Vaskov pleaded, "I really think we should go in and let the firemen do their work, please!"
They ignored him, surging forward for a better look. As they stood there, mesmerized by the flames, Stetson and Amanda rose from the shrubs and mingled with the crowd, trying to look normal in their damp clothing. Hand in hand, they worked their way towards the fire truck. The captain was near the truck, directing his men as they began to pull hoses from the truck. Stetson got as close to him as he thought he could without attracting too much attention. "Captain?" he hissed loudly.
The Captain barely looked at him, keeping his attention on the fire. "You the Scarecrow?"
"Yes."
"I talked to someone named Melrose about you. Hey, Kendall, come 'ere."
A huge man with yards of hose looped over his shoulder ambled up and moved behind the group, cutting Stetson and Amanda off from the crowd with a few unobtrusive steps. The Captain flung open two equipment doors, shielding them on two sides, he and Kendall concealing them from behind. In moments, they had changed from formal wear to fire wear complete with helmets and boots. Then the Captain handed Stetson a hose loop. "You and Kendall string the hose out. She'll stay at the control panel with me." Stetson and Amanda locked gazes for a brief second, then he was away and the Captain helped her lock the end of a hose on an outlet valve.
The fire was quickly brought under control but the firemen stayed until only a few thin streamers of smoke rose from the rubble. Stetson, face black with soot, glanced about for Amanda as he helped load the hoses. The guests had finally departed and dawn was fast approaching, if they didn't leave soon, someone was bound to recognize him. As it was, the security people were still lurking everywhere. Amanda was nowhere to be seen and the Captain was talking to Galpin.
"Listen, Buddy, I don't know what's going on here, but this fire was SET. And, I can guarantee you the fire inspector will be out here tomorrow looking into it."
"Captain!" Kendall hollered, "We're loaded."
The Captain nodded, "And don't you touch nothin' until he gets here. I don't give a diddly about your diplomatic status." He wheeled away from Galpin and jumped up into the truck, motioning his men aboard. Stetson took a position behind the cab and caught the Captain's eye. The concern must have been obvious on his face, because the Captain grinned and nodded, but said nothing. As they approached the gate, for a moment it looked as though the guards might not let them pass, but the driver gave them a blast on the air horn and made it obvious that the truck was not going to stop. The guards pulled the gate open quickly and the truck slipped though into the dawn.
Several blocks away, the pumper truck pulled into the parking lot of the same convenience store where George Lehman had made his phone call many hours before. Melrose and Francine stood waiting by an agency car. Stetson jumped off the truck, followed by the Captain. He quickly peeled off his firecoat, reached inside his shirt and pulled out the leather case, handing it to Melrose. He turned to the Captain, "Amanda?" He asked breathlessly. But, even as he asked, he looked beyond the Captain's shoulder and Amanda was climbing down from the driver's seat of the fire truck.
She came to them smiling happily, "Oh! I have always wanted to do that!" She peeled off her fire fighting clothing, still wearing the wet, formal clothing underneath. Stetson swept her into his arms and hugged her with relief. And then stepped back sheepishly. Billy Melrose was grinning from ear to ear. Francine pulled a strand of straw from Stetson's shirt, then cocking her head, pulled several more from Amanda's blouse.
"Have a nice lunch?" She asked.
"Um, we...ah..." Stetson stammered.
Amanda leaned towards Stetson and whispered, "I think we just made the top ten on the rumor net."
Lee Stetson's silver corvette pulled up in front of 4247 Maplewood and stopped. Stetson, somewhat cleaner, but still in the damp tuxedo, looked over to the passenger seat where Amanda had the seat fully reclined. She was asleep. Her clothes were much worse for wear than his and still damp as well. Billy had not put them through a debriefing. Instead, they had eaten, saying little until Amanda began to fall asleep into her food. Stetson had brought her home, promising to have the agency deliver her car later.
"Amanda....Amanda." He ran his fingers over her hair.
She dragged herself out of sleep with a huge effort.
"You're home."
She squinted out the window. "Home." She said, "Home, bed, food." She looked down at her clothes. "Would you like to come in and explain this mess to my mother? This isn't even close to what I was wearing when I left home....um....yesterday morning."
"No, I would not. Besides, if you're lucky, everyone will still be asleep and you can make it upstairs and get changed before anyone notices."
Amanda nodded skeptically. "Sure."
"Well, maybe you should keep an extra change of clothing at the office....or maybe at my place, just for times like this."
"Oh, you think so, do you?"
"Well, sure, I--" Stetson suddenly developed an unnatural interest in his steering wheel. He was silent.
Amanda brought the seat up, "Well, I guess I'd better be sneaking off to my house. Why do I suddenly feel like I've stayed out all night after the prom?"
Stetson touched her arm to stop her from getting out of the car, "Um...how about dinner tonight?"
"Well, I don't know...after yesterdays lunch, I don't think planning to eat with you is very safe."
"At my place."
"Is that supposed to make me feel safer?"
Stetson grinned hugely. "Uh-huh. No Billy. No Francine. No foreign intrigue."
"No intrigue?"
Stetson leaned to kiss her lightly, "Well, maybe we can work on a little domestic intrigue."
"It's a date, Scarecrow."
THE END.