BRANCH 1 -- BOMB
He decided to turn the bag in. The way the boy talked, the guy must be a real regular, whatever that customer service man said. Since he was right beside the aisle, it was no big deal to get out and go in that direction during a break in the game.
***
"I am in the mood for some hotdogs and chips. You with me?"
"Nah, man, go ahead. Cholesterol'll kill you though -- you know that, don't you?"
"Oh, like your cooking won't. I'm out to get *real* food now."
"Real food, he says. So much for appreciation for the culinary arts. So much for cultural appreciation."
"Get real," he threw back over his shoulder.
***
Without preliminaries, Simon demanded, "Jim, you're at the stadium, aren't you?" once the cellphone line was opened.
"Yeah, Simon, it's the middle of the Panthers and the Bears. What gives?" Jim said as he reached into his pocket for his wallet.
"There's been a bomb threat. No reason given yet, just the threat. Set to blow in the middle of the game."
"Simon, it'll be impossible to evacuate everyone, you know that."
"Well, unless *you* can find the bomb, Jim, we don't have much choice." Simon sounded exasperated, exhausted, and questioning, all at once.
"Getting right on it, sir."
***
"What happened to the food?"
Jim went closer so as not to start a widespread panic. "Bomb threat, Chief," he said softly. "Simon wants to know if it can be found."
Blair looked around. The sheer chaos that was a stadium pounded into him . . . sights, smells, sounds, and sheer volume -- and sighed and blinked. "He doesn't ask for much, does he?" he asked, looking up at his friend with a quirk of the lips.
"Only what we can give," Jim reassured. "We can do this."
Blair liked the sound of that: We.
***
"It's you again?" The customer service representative recognized him easily. "What's the problem?"
Chance laid the bag on the counter. "There's something funny going on around here, I gotta tell you. Somebody just gave this to me out of the blue. He meant it for that guy on my seat. He must be a regular after all." Chance explained easily.
"All right, sir, I'll check in the computers."
A few minutes later, the agent returned. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's not. Perhaps there's some form of identification in there. We'll take it from here, thank you." Chance turned after surrendering the bag. Maybe he should have looked at it first.
"Hold it!" the man raised his voice. He must have pressed a button, because security came running to detain Chance. "Are you sure you can't explain this?"
The bag contained a set of wires and explosives.
***
"Jim, call just came in. Service counter's holding a guy who surrendered. Better go check it out."
"Sure, Captain. Jim and I'll be right over." Blair turned off the phone and took his partner out of the light trance he'd been in. "Looks like you won't need to be the wunderkind today, Jim. They've got it."
***
"Look, " Chance explained, knowing it was useless, but getting it down for the record anyway. "*I* didn't make any bomb threat, I was here in the stadium. I don't even live here. I don't own this, I didn't know what was in it when I got it, I didn't even have a ticket until 5 minutes before the game!"
Now *that* was suspicious, if nothing else, thought the officer taking down the statement. Tickets had been sold for weeks, and the management was strict about scalpers. And look at this guy's record! He's been accused of everything except assassinating the Pope, and was cleared _every_ time? That definitely smelled, too. If he was always innocent ... come on, give me a break, I'm not stupid. The average citizen goes out of his way to avoid trouble or get a record. People get charged with good reason. It's not even like he was a "usual suspect", these charges were from all over the place. Then again, if he were guilty, how could he be entirely cleared of every single charge? Did he have friends who were high up? That would be disturbing, too. But the friend *would* have to be high, considering the varying sources, not just this clown's hometown. The man sure did get around. Look, he'd even added Cascade to his list. Maybe he was going for a record, or something. We always do get all the crackpots, the cop thought sourly.
----------------------------
Author's notes: This has already gone farther than I thought I could get, seeing as I only imagined the very first scene, with Chance holding the ticket, and the consequent diner scene with Angie. The rest followed a little more naturally, but it's stalled at the moment. It doesn't even have a real title. I don't know if stadium management tends to prosecute scalpers, and somehow I think that Chance _would_ open the bag before blindly giving it in, so that part's likely going to change. There was a Branch 2 for drugs instead of a bomb. I haven't made up my mind yet. It was either unwritten (likely) or got eaten up by one of the viruses that wiped the computer. I don't recall at the moment. However, I feel that the next virus might be the last -- additional reason to post, even if incomplete, so that there's a backup, as it were. I meant to post it in Guide Posts (way back in 1998 -- Cascade Library was just getting started then, if I recall correctly), but wanted it done first. I'll let it rest here a while in the hopes of getting a second wind...
He decided to turn the bag in. The way the boy talked, the guy must be a real regular, whatever that customer service man said. Since he was right beside the aisle, it was no big deal to get out and go in that direction during a break in the game.
***
"I am in the mood for some hotdogs and chips. You with me?"
"Nah, man, go ahead. Cholesterol'll kill you though -- you know that, don't you?"
"Oh, like your cooking won't. I'm out to get *real* food now."
"Real food, he says. So much for appreciation for the culinary arts. So much for cultural appreciation."
"Get real," he threw back over his shoulder.
***
Without preliminaries, Simon demanded, "Jim, you're at the stadium, aren't you?" once the cellphone line was opened.
"Yeah, Simon, it's the middle of the Panthers and the Bears. What gives?" Jim said as he reached into his pocket for his wallet.
"There's been a bomb threat. No reason given yet, just the threat. Set to blow in the middle of the game."
"Simon, it'll be impossible to evacuate everyone, you know that."
"Well, unless *you* can find the bomb, Jim, we don't have much choice." Simon sounded exasperated, exhausted, and questioning, all at once.
"Getting right on it, sir."
***
"What happened to the food?"
Jim went closer so as not to start a widespread panic. "Bomb threat, Chief," he said softly. "Simon wants to know if it can be found."
Blair looked around. The sheer chaos that was a stadium pounded into him . . . sights, smells, sounds, and sheer volume -- and sighed and blinked. "He doesn't ask for much, does he?" he asked, looking up at his friend with a quirk of the lips.
"Only what we can give," Jim reassured. "We can do this."
Blair liked the sound of that: We.
***
"It's you again?" The customer service representative recognized him easily. "What's the problem?"
Chance laid the bag on the counter. "There's something funny going on around here, I gotta tell you. Somebody just gave this to me out of the blue. He meant it for that guy on my seat. He must be a regular after all." Chance explained easily.
"All right, sir, I'll check in the computers."
A few minutes later, the agent returned. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's not. Perhaps there's some form of identification in there. We'll take it from here, thank you." Chance turned after surrendering the bag. Maybe he should have looked at it first.
"Hold it!" the man raised his voice. He must have pressed a button, because security came running to detain Chance. "Are you sure you can't explain this?"
The bag contained a set of wires and explosives.
***
"Jim, call just came in. Service counter's holding a guy who surrendered. Better go check it out."
"Sure, Captain. Jim and I'll be right over." Blair turned off the phone and took his partner out of the light trance he'd been in. "Looks like you won't need to be the wunderkind today, Jim. They've got it."
***
"Look, " Chance explained, knowing it was useless, but getting it down for the record anyway. "*I* didn't make any bomb threat, I was here in the stadium. I don't even live here. I don't own this, I didn't know what was in it when I got it, I didn't even have a ticket until 5 minutes before the game!"
Now *that* was suspicious, if nothing else, thought the officer taking down the statement. Tickets had been sold for weeks, and the management was strict about scalpers. And look at this guy's record! He's been accused of everything except assassinating the Pope, and was cleared _every_ time? That definitely smelled, too. If he was always innocent ... come on, give me a break, I'm not stupid. The average citizen goes out of his way to avoid trouble or get a record. People get charged with good reason. It's not even like he was a "usual suspect", these charges were from all over the place. Then again, if he were guilty, how could he be entirely cleared of every single charge? Did he have friends who were high up? That would be disturbing, too. But the friend *would* have to be high, considering the varying sources, not just this clown's hometown. The man sure did get around. Look, he'd even added Cascade to his list. Maybe he was going for a record, or something. We always do get all the crackpots, the cop thought sourly.
----------------------------
Author's notes: This has already gone farther than I thought I could get, seeing as I only imagined the very first scene, with Chance holding the ticket, and the consequent diner scene with Angie. The rest followed a little more naturally, but it's stalled at the moment. It doesn't even have a real title. I don't know if stadium management tends to prosecute scalpers, and somehow I think that Chance _would_ open the bag before blindly giving it in, so that part's likely going to change. There was a Branch 2 for drugs instead of a bomb. I haven't made up my mind yet. It was either unwritten (likely) or got eaten up by one of the viruses that wiped the computer. I don't recall at the moment. However, I feel that the next virus might be the last -- additional reason to post, even if incomplete, so that there's a backup, as it were. I meant to post it in Guide Posts (way back in 1998 -- Cascade Library was just getting started then, if I recall correctly), but wanted it done first. I'll let it rest here a while in the hopes of getting a second wind...