Chapter Twenty-Six
"Dad?" Kevin asked, staring at his father in disbelief. "Did aliens from another planet really give you the suit?" Kevin repeated.
"We need to talk," Ralph said, indicating that Pam and Kevin should take a seat.
Shaking his head, Ralph began, "Kevin, I know this is going to sound very strange, but everything I'm going to tell you is the God's honest truth. I also need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone. And I mean ANYONE, not even your closest buddy. Okay?"
Kevin shrugged, "Sure, dad."
Ralph sat down in the chair across from the couch where Kevin and Pam were sitting. Leaning forward, Ralph looked straight into Kevin's eyes.
"It all started about 5 years ago. I took the kids in my class out on a field trip to the desert in Palmdale. The school bus started acting up so I had to leave the kids with the bus while I went for some help. On my way for help, I ran into Mr. Maxwell. Or rather he almost ran into me. This was the day I first met Mr. Maxwell."
Kevin couldn't remember exactly when Mr. Maxwell started coming around, but he did remember that it seemed like Mr. Maxwell wasn't there at all and then he was there all the time. In the beginning Mr. Maxwell seemed to argue with his dad an awful lot. In fact, he often wondered how they could be friends. And come to think about it, why DID they spend so much time together? They never agreed on anything!
"While Mr. Maxwell and I were out there in the desert, we saw a flying object in the sky. We didn't know what it was, but it wasn't anything we'd ever seen. We both ducked into his car and watched. Suddenly, all the doors locked by themselves. Looking back now, I know it was the aliens; but instinct tells you that as soon as you're locked in, the first thing you want to do is get out. As hard as we tried, we could not unlock the doors or break through the windows."
"Why didn't Mr. Maxwell just shoot the windows with his gun?" Kevin asked, mesmerized by the story.
"Well, son, before we got in the car I was very angry at Mr. Maxwell because he had nearly run me over. I had taken his gun and threw it away. So, he didn't have that gun at the time," Ralph answered.
Kevin smiled. He knew his dad put up with a lot from Mr. Maxwell, but he had never seen him actually do anything like take his gun away from him! Wow!
"Anyway," Ralph continued. "Right after that, the car radio played a short message from the space craft which told us to 'listen and decide'. We were told that that we had been selected to help. They wanted Mr. Maxwell and me to work together, for them, on problems that needed to be solved; to change things that would save the planet from destruction. They gave me the red suit to use. We were told that it had unearthly powers and would work on no one else but me. I've been wearing that suit and working with Mr. Maxwell since that day."
"Dad, what do the aliens look like? Where are they from? Can I meet them?" asked Kevin.
Ralph flashed a look at Pam before speaking. "Well, Kev, I didn't actually see any of them and it happened so fast; they never told me anything about themselves. It wasn't like the science fiction movies where they introduce themselves and say, 'take me to your leader'."
"What about the suit, Dad?" Kevin asked, "What can you do with it?"
"Well… I can do things like fly, turn invisible, run quickly, move objects without touching them, ignite objects, and holograph in on someone," Ralph answered.
"Wow! You're really like Superman then!" Kevin said, with enthusiasm.
"Well, not exactly," Ralph replied quickly. "The power comes from the suit, Kev. I can't do anything without it."
"Oh! Can I borrow it then? I'd love to try out flying!" Kevin exclaimed, imagining himself zipping across the sky. And wouldn't it be cool to run faster than all the other guys in gym class? he thought. Having the suit could come in handy, Kevin mused.
"First of all, the suit will only work for me," Ralph explained. "It won't work for you, so don't get any ideas. But, even if it could work for you, it isn't a toy and most definitely was never meant to be used in that manner. You understand? And by the way, take it from me, flying isn't all it's cracked up to be," Ralph said, rising to his feet.
"Yeah, Dad, I understand," Kevin answered, disappointed.
"Now, we've all had a busy night I think it's time for bed," Ralph suggested.
"Okay, Dad. Good night. Good night Pam. Thanks for letting me have the guys over tonight. Sorry about the police and all," Kevin replied, imagining what it would be like to have a suit of his own.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was a beautiful sunny Saturday morning. Tony took a deep breath of fresh air before hopping into his blue '82 Toyota Corolla. 10:00 a.m., Tony noted; not too early to pay a little visit to the 15 year old boy in the super suit, he thought.
Before turning the ignition key, Tony reread Officer Parody's incident report from the night before. 'Suspicious behavior, at 13216 Bucko St., Los Angeles, CA 90282, reported by next door neighbor, Mrs. Mabel Jensen. Five teen-aged boys were seen prowling around the premises'. The five boys names were listed. Nothing remarkable there, he thought. "'Peter Scanlon, Joel Thornton, Scott Emerson, Jim Kingsman, John Kingsman, and Kevin Hinkley,'" he read aloud.
"13216 Bucko Street," Tony repeated aloud. Why does that address sound so familiar? He wondered.
He looked at the property owner's name: Ralph and Pamela Hinkley.
Mr. Hinkley? My old high school teacher? Tony wondered, staring at the incident report in his hands. 'The officers responding to the call noted that fifteen year old 'Kevin Hinkley' was dressed in a black-caped red super-hero costume. Kevin Hinkley's identity was confirmed by his father.'
"Kevin Hinkley?" He repeated, surprised. "Mr. Hinkley's son?"
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bill slipped his loaded gun into his shoulder holster.
I've gotta convince Carlisle to drop these vandalism cases, he thought. There is no way to put these files to rest without drawing attention to Ralph and his super-suit, he reasoned.
I'll tell Carlisle nothing's turning up, and it's a dead-end. He'll see it my way and we'll put this baby to bed, Bill said to himself; but deep down, Bill knew he was kidding himself.
He walked out to his car and climbed into the driver's seat.
No matter what it took, he'd get Carlisle to drop this, Bill decided.
All the way to the Bureau, Bill considered the different approaches he could take in dealing with Carlisle. He decided the most effective way to deal with Carlisle was to appear 'sincere' and 'logical'. That shouldn't be a problem; he sincerely thought it was the logical thing to do.
Bill was glad to see the Bureau's parking lot fairly empty. Carlisle's car was parked in his 'reserved' parking spot. It still irked him how this jerk got promoted above him when Carlisle couldn't solve a case if a felon were blind-folded, hand-cuffed and dropped in his lap with a video-taped confession!
In no time at all, Bill was outside Carlisle's office. The door was open and Carlisle was busy with some paper work on his desk. Just as Bill was about to enter, Carlisle's telephone rang.
Bill froze. He hated sitting in Carlisle's office while Carlisle was on the phone. He knew Carlisle did everything he could to flaunt his authority.
"Carlisle, here," he said, answering the phone.
"Oh, hello Mr. Dennison," Carlisle added, in a much more respectful tone.
Bill knew Mr. Dennison. Paul Dennison was a big wig with the Bureau for many years. His dedication and outstanding service had earned him the power to hire and fire without question.
"Yes, Mr. Dennison. I understand. Mr. Maxwell is our best Agent, and would be the most qualified to head up the new Task Force, but don't you think he's losing his edge?"
What? Bill couldn't believe his ears. He stepped further away from the door, and crouched down into a position behind a nearby desk, where he could still hear Carlisle's conversation.
"Oh, no sir, I agree," Carlisle responded, nervously. "He is well suited for the job, but I can't force him to do, sir. The man feels that his age is catching up to him… Oh no sir! I am not implying anything about your age sir! It's just that if Maxwell feels he is slowing down and prefers a desk job or retirement…."
Retirement? Who said anything about retirement? Bill mumbled angrily to himself.
"Right now?" Carlisle asked, "I'm not sure which case he's working on. I'd have to check the duty roster sir…. You want him on the Thompson Jewelry store heist? Yes sir, as soon as he finishes with …"
The Thompson Jewelry store case? That's the hottest case we got! Bill's mouth hung open in amazement. Carlisle assigned that case to Neilson and Unger!
As if on cue, Agent Unger stepped off the nearby elevator and entered Carlisle's office.
"Yes, Mr. Dennison. I'll see if I can change Maxwell's mind and assign him to the Thompson case right away," Carlisle said, before hanging up the phone.
"Unger, what's up? Anything new with the Thompson case?" Carlisle asked, hopefully.
"No, nothing. Neilson and I are chasing our tails on this one," Unger replied.
"Don't tell me that! Dennison wants Maxwell on the case and if you don't get this taken care of soon, I'll have to give it to Maxwell. He still wants Maxwell as the head of the new task force and if you don't wrap that case up, I won't have anything to go to Dennison with to get you that job!" Carlisle shouted.
"We're working on it. Just keep Maxwell out of my hair and I'll crack this one before the end of the week," Unger answered. "What have you got planned for Maxwell?" he asked.
Carlisle laughed. "Get this! I assigned the new recruit to him and gave him the cold case Vandalism files. I figure either he won't come up with anything or he'd have to follow the trail of the Superman in the red suit. Maxwell will either come up empty and look like a worthless agent; or end up chasing after some guy in red tights and look like he's lost his marbles. Either way, he's looking at an early retirement and you get promoted to heading up the new Task Force," Carlisle replied, sounding full of himself.
"I get the Task Force job, and you don't look too bad either," Unger agreed.
It's not the Department that's holding me back, Bill realized, it's Carlisle! He's had it in for me since the beginning! he reasoned. He's trying to push me out of the FBI.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ralph sat quietly at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper, while Pam set the table for breakfast.
"How does French toast sound for breakfast this morning, Ralph?" Pam asked.
"Sounds great, honey," Ralph said, from behind the newspaper.
"Want some bacon with that?" Pam said, removing the eggs and butter from the refrigerator.
"Sounds great, honey," Ralph repeated.
"Want syrup or jelly with your French toast?" Pam asked, opening a loaf of bread.
"Sounds great, honey," Ralph repeated again.
"Ralph!" Pam said, annoyed.
Ralph lowered the newspaper, "Only kidding, Pam!" he said, chuckling. "I'll take syrup," he said, returning his attention to the paper.
Pam shook her head. "Very funny," she said, pretending she was about to empty the milk carton on his head.
"What's going on?" Kevin asked, as he entered the kitchen.
Ralph looked up from the paper again. "Hey Kev, you ready for the big game this afternoon?" he asked.
Kevin smiled and nodded, "Sure am, Dad! All the guys are jealous that I'm going to the game. It's nearly impossible to get tickets to a World Series game! You're the greatest father in the world!" Kevin said, giving his dad a hug.
"Greatest father in the world? I don't know about that Kevin," Ralph said, modestly.
"Well, I'd say at least the greatest dad in America!" Kevin answered, joking.
"Did you hear that Ralph? You're the Greatest American Father," Pam said, agreeing.
"That's quite a tribute considering it isn't even Father's Day!" Ralph responded, smiling.
Just as Kevin passed the telephone, it rang.
"Hello," Kevin said, answering the phone on its second ring.
"Oh, hi, Jim. No, I'm not doing anything right now. Why?" Kevin said, into the phone.
Pam placed a plate of sizzling hot slices of cinnamon French toast on the table.
"Smells great, Pam," Ralph said, folding the newspaper he had been reading.
"Hey Dad, is it okay if I go over Jim's house for a few hours?" Kevin asked.
"I don't see why not," Ralph answered, nodding his head. "You want a lift over there?"
"No, I'll take my bike," Kevin replied.
"Just make sure you're home before noon," Ralph said pouring himself a glass of orange juice.
"Okay, Dad," Kevin answered.
"Have some breakfast before you go," Pam urged, as Kevin hung up the phone.
"No thanks, I'm not hungry," Kevin said, as he disappeared out the kitchen door.
"Well, I guess it's just you and me," Pam said, smiling.
"No complaints here," Ralph answered, leaning forward to give her a kiss on the lips.
"You know Ralph, I'm kinda glad we have a few moments to ourselves."
"Me too, Pam. Do you realize we haven't had a moment alone since…?" Ralph tried to remember.
"I know, Ralph. Believe me, I know."
"Well, Kevin's gone for a few hours, why don't we try to make the most of the time we have now. After all, there's no time like the present," Ralph suggested.
"Speaking of that, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," Pam said, quietly.
"Oh? What's that, Pam?" Ralph asked, popping the last piece of bacon on his plate into his mouth.
"Ralph, I…" Pam began, but was interrupted by the door bell.
"Sorry hon, I'd better get the door. I'm sure it's not Bill," Ralph said, apologetically.
"Yeah, he'd let himself in," Pam mumbled.
Chapter Thirty
Bill slipped out from behind the desk and returned to his car without being observed.
He could not believe what he had just heard outside Carlisle's office. Carlisle had flat out lied to one of the most powerful men at the Bureau, Mr. Dennison. Mr. Dennison had told Carlisle to promote him to the new position heading up a Task Force; instead, Carlisle stuck him with a green recruit and sent him on a wild goose chase. All along, Carlisle was preparing to give his position to Jack Unger and force Bill out of the FBI!
Bill was mad. He needed to do something and do it quick, he decided, pulling onto the highway.
In no time, he'd be at Ralph's house.