The second the alarm sounds, Bobby Hobbes turns it off with one swift motion. He's been up for hours waiting, practicing to tune his body into the total darkness of the room. He sees himself as a stealth warrior who must stay in constant focus of the task of defending his country. He cocks his head to a small noise he hears coming from his window. "Just a bird," he thinks to himself, "or is it?" He listens longing until he is satisfied that the bird really is a bird, and not of someone pretending to be a bird so that they can catch him unaware. "Not gonna happen, my friend," he says aloud. "I am a specially trained machine. I am a federal government agent with years of experience. A virtual multitude of experience. Nobody is gonna sneak up on ol' Bobby Hobbes. No way, no how." He gets out of bed and looks at the clock. "Ooo, 'Huckleberry Hound' is on."
****
Hobbes turns off the TV set and walks to through the apartment to the master bathroom inside his bedroom. Stripping down to his boxers and bare feet, he turns on the shower to warm up the water and returns to the bedroom. Bobby gets his waterproof radio and brings it into the bathroom. After tuning in the station that he wants, he finishes undressing and steps in the now hot shower. "Just take those old records off the shelf," Hobbes croons along with the music as he scrubs his hair with shampoo. "I like that old time rock and roll, yeah babe!"
****
Finally dressed and ready to go, Bobby does his daily sweep of the apartment. He is looking for not only "bugs", but anything unusual or out of place. This was, to him, a sure sign that some enemy has been in his apartment during the night. This unseen force, in Hobbes' mind, was out to disclose everything they could find about him, about the Agency, about the work he does and is doing, EVERYTHING. He checks the closets, under furniture, behind curtains. He is very careful to touch as little as possible the areas that he is inspecting. Hobbes knows that most high-tech surveillance equipment is capable of picking up motion. He doesn't want to tip off the enemy that he has found their listening devices. He has done this daily sweep faithfully every day for close to 20 years, and has yet to find anything incriminating or unexplainable. "But that doesn't mean it's not there, or that tomorrow it won't be there," he thinks to himself. "You never know, ya know. Better safe than sorry. That is the Boy Scout motto." Hours pass before he is satisfied that it is safe to leave. "Ok then, I guess I'll just go to the mall for a while," he says to the empty apartment. Bobby smirks as he exits the apartment, thinking that he has, once again, fooled the enemy into thinking he was going somewhere that he actually was not. "Very smart, Bobby Hobbes, very smart."
****
"Your usual, Mr. Smith?" asks the clerk behind the counter. "Yes. Thank you, Fred. What's the word today?" Hobbes says to the clerk while he takes a look around the establishment. The clerk turns his back from Bobby for a moment, "Well, Lane 4 just got a new coat of wax just this mornin'. Lane 7 and 8 are rollin' pretty good from what I hear," he calls from over his shoulder. Fred then turns to face Bobby. In his hands are Hobbes' favorite shoes. Normally, Bobby would have his shoes with him when he came in, but they have been in the repair shop that is located onsite at the bowling alley. Bobby inspects the shoes carefully, "Good job," he says to the clerk, "as usual." He then slips Fred a $20 as a thank you. "Thank you, Mr. Smith. Oh, just to let you know," Fred leans over the counter close to Hobbes and whispers, "There are a some of newbies on Lane 2." Hobbes picks up his shoes and bowling ball bag. He gives a Fred a knowing wink, as if to say, "Gotcha, understood" and heads for Lane 8.
****
Hobbes turns off the TV set and walks to through the apartment to the master bathroom inside his bedroom. Stripping down to his boxers and bare feet, he turns on the shower to warm up the water and returns to the bedroom. Bobby gets his waterproof radio and brings it into the bathroom. After tuning in the station that he wants, he finishes undressing and steps in the now hot shower. "Just take those old records off the shelf," Hobbes croons along with the music as he scrubs his hair with shampoo. "I like that old time rock and roll, yeah babe!"
****
Finally dressed and ready to go, Bobby does his daily sweep of the apartment. He is looking for not only "bugs", but anything unusual or out of place. This was, to him, a sure sign that some enemy has been in his apartment during the night. This unseen force, in Hobbes' mind, was out to disclose everything they could find about him, about the Agency, about the work he does and is doing, EVERYTHING. He checks the closets, under furniture, behind curtains. He is very careful to touch as little as possible the areas that he is inspecting. Hobbes knows that most high-tech surveillance equipment is capable of picking up motion. He doesn't want to tip off the enemy that he has found their listening devices. He has done this daily sweep faithfully every day for close to 20 years, and has yet to find anything incriminating or unexplainable. "But that doesn't mean it's not there, or that tomorrow it won't be there," he thinks to himself. "You never know, ya know. Better safe than sorry. That is the Boy Scout motto." Hours pass before he is satisfied that it is safe to leave. "Ok then, I guess I'll just go to the mall for a while," he says to the empty apartment. Bobby smirks as he exits the apartment, thinking that he has, once again, fooled the enemy into thinking he was going somewhere that he actually was not. "Very smart, Bobby Hobbes, very smart."
****
"Your usual, Mr. Smith?" asks the clerk behind the counter. "Yes. Thank you, Fred. What's the word today?" Hobbes says to the clerk while he takes a look around the establishment. The clerk turns his back from Bobby for a moment, "Well, Lane 4 just got a new coat of wax just this mornin'. Lane 7 and 8 are rollin' pretty good from what I hear," he calls from over his shoulder. Fred then turns to face Bobby. In his hands are Hobbes' favorite shoes. Normally, Bobby would have his shoes with him when he came in, but they have been in the repair shop that is located onsite at the bowling alley. Bobby inspects the shoes carefully, "Good job," he says to the clerk, "as usual." He then slips Fred a $20 as a thank you. "Thank you, Mr. Smith. Oh, just to let you know," Fred leans over the counter close to Hobbes and whispers, "There are a some of newbies on Lane 2." Hobbes picks up his shoes and bowling ball bag. He gives a Fred a knowing wink, as if to say, "Gotcha, understood" and heads for Lane 8.
