SMK Chapter 9 (Day 2)
"Well, hey there, Ace!"
"Leatherneck. How ya doin'?" Lee grinned as he entered the mechanic's garage and walked over to the cluttered desk in the corner.
"What brings you down here to my neck of the woods?" Leatherneck stood and offered a handshake.
Smiling, Lee shook his hand and sat in one of the utilitarian chairs facing the desk. "Well, my friend, I have a favor to ask." He cleared his throat. "A pretty big one."
"Aw, Lee." Leatherneck sat back down behind his desk. "There isn't much I wouldn't do for you and Mrs. King. What's up?"
Lee brushed imaginary lint off his pant leg. "Uh, I'm not sure where to start." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "Amanda's in danger, Leatherneck."
Leatherneck's eyebrows lowered. "What kind of danger?"
"The only kind of danger there is – the bad kind." He leaned both elbows on his knees and propped his chin on his clasped his hands. "We think someone is trying to get her out of the way so they can get to me. When we refused to give into his demands, the threats on Amanda escalated."
"Wow," Leatherneck frowned. "That's got to be somewhat scary for you, my friend."
Lee's jaw tightened. "Yeah, it is. Uh, why do you say that?"
Leatherneck quirked a smile at him. "You don't really think you can fool the whole world, do ya, Ace?"
Lee blew out a chuckle as his smile cocked up on one side. "What are you talking about, Leatherneck?"
"Well, it's as obvious as the sky is blue that the two of you have something going on between you – and have for a while." His eyes sparkled.
Lee leaned back in his chair. "It is, is it?"
"Aw, come on, Lee. How long have I known you?"
"Quite a few years."
"Exactly. And I know you're not the same man you were four years ago, my friend."
"Well, that's true, Leatherneck. That's certainly true."
"What do you need, Lee?"
Lee sat forward in his chair. "I need you to keep an eye on someone in the Agency. Her name is June Phelps."
"Yeah, I think I know who she is," Leatherneck nodded his head. "She's the one that's been delivering mail for a while now, right?"
"Yes, that's her." Lee sighed and sat back again.
"Am I allowed to ask why I'm watching her?"
A smile crossed Lee's face at his friend's tacit agreement. "For now, let's just say there's something suspicious going on with her. I need you to let me know if she spends time with anyone unusual at the Agency...hangs around places or people more than necessary...or just seems suspicious in any way."
"Yeah, I can do that, Buddy." Leatherneck frowned again. "Is she a clear and present danger to Mrs. King?"
Mrs. Stetson Lee dearly wanted to correct his friend. This 'Mrs. King' stuff was really starting to rub him the wrong way. She didn't belong to Joe anymore; she belonged to him. He sighed. Maybe he just needed to start thinking about it as her code-name. "Honestly, I'm not sure yet. But it's a possibility, and she's really the only lead I've got right now."
"Sure thing, Lee. I'm assuming you want me to start today?"
"Yeah. As soon as possible, Leatherneck." He stood to leave and rubbed the back of his neck again. "Something tells me we've got to get this figured out and figured out quickly."
"Don't worry, Ace." Leatherneck smiled. "I'm on it."
"Thanks, Leatherneck." Lee shook his hand. "I owe you a big one for this."
Lee left the garage and made his way to the Vette. Why the hell had he gotten Amanda into this business, anyway? He pushed the 'unlock' button on his key fob. And why didn't he put his foot down and make her stop? As he reached for the door handle, he chuckled out loud. That was a ridiculous thought. Like she'd listen if he tried. Once in the car, he put his hands on the steering wheel and drummed it absently with his thumbs. Besides, did he really want to deny her something that made her feel so alive? He twisted the ignition with more force than necessary. Alive was kind of the key word, wasn't it?
"Billy Melrose. Just the person I've been looking for."
"Dr. Smith." Billy turned to see his boss striding through the bull pen. "You've been looking for me? I was just coming to see you."
Dr. Smith took a drag on his cigarette. "Where can we have a con-fab, Billy?"
"My office has just been swept; it's clean. We can talk there." Billy closed the door behind him as he followed Dr. Smith into his office.
Dr. Smith turned, pinning him down with a look as he slowly took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Was this a routine sweep, Billy? Or is there some SNAFU you'd like to share with me?"
"There is, but first I need to run something by you."
"Well, shoot then, Billy." Dr. Smith looked at his watch. "I've got a tete-a-teté on Pennsylvania Avenue in less than an hour."
"Alright." Billy sat behind his desk and motioned for Dr. Smith to take a seat opposite him. "Let's say you were the head-coach of a football team."
"Not my favorite analogy..."
Billy held up his hand. "Just hear me out. Let's say you have a football team. You've got a string of good quarterbacks, but your starter is your best by far. He can pull victory from the jaws of defeat better than anyone. He changes plays on you sometimes, but he thinks on his feet and has an uncanny ability to read what the other team is doing and figure out how best to take them out. A lot of teams would love to recruit him, but he's loyal to your team, and you don't want to lose him.
"Now, let's say there's one particular receiver who works so well with your star quarterback that you really don't mind that he – or she – is a rookie who's never really had much training. This receiver doesn't look like much of a football player, but he – or she – has an uncanny ability to go with the flow of whatever the quarterback is doing." Billy paused to gage Dr. Smith's reaction.
Dr. Smith took a drag on his cigarette and blew out a curl of smoke. "Well, go on."
"Well, sometimes this receiver gets in trouble and it looks like he – or she – is going to get creamed by the other team. But the quarterback values the receiver so much that he gets in there and saves the day so that together they can make the TD. Sometimes it's even the other way around."
"Let's get to the punch line, shall we Billy?"
"I'm getting there." Billy stood and began pacing across the room. "Let's also say that one of the reasons these two work so well together is that they are with one another all the time. They do everything together. They know one another better than anyone else. And even though the owner of the team may have regulations about two players being such close…friends, in their case it makes the whole team stronger."
Dr. Smith took a deep breath and glanced at his watch. "Is this little allegory about a certain straw-stuffed agent and his sidekick nearly finis?"
Billy closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "What should the coach do? Break up the pair that makes the team so successful? Pretend he doesn't know about their friendship? Openly accept it because of the unique particulars of the situation?"
Billy held up his hand one last time so he could finish his thought. "And what should the quarterback and the receiver do? Hide their relationship? Come out in the open with it? Stop spending time together because it goes against the unwritten rules of the team? Or go on as they are – working together, but trying to pretend they're not…friends."
Dr. Smith narrowed his eyes. "As much as I appreciate the allowance for plausible deniability, there must be a reason for this little parabolic." Dr. Smith puffed his cigarette again. "Why would you wish to focus the owner's attention so squarely on this dynamic football duo knowing what he might do?"
"Because there's a traitor on the team who is trying to use their knowledge of the relationship to sabotage the quarterback. And they're willing to throw the receiver under the bus to do it. And..." Billy dragged out the word. "...the owner's seeming lack of knowledge about the relationship plays a key role in their plan."
Dr. Smith leaned back in the chair; his cigarette paused halfway to his lips. "Ah. Now it's all becoming as clear as crystal." His cigarette finished the journey to his lips and glowed on the end as he took another drag from it. He pulled it from his lips and looked at it as he spoke.
"First, you're assuming the owner of the team is unaware of the relationship." He looked back up at Billy. "A good owner makes it his business to know what's going on in the personal lives of his team members. He knows who his most valuable players are and who their best supporting actors are. But he makes rules for a reason, Billy."
"He also breaks rules when it suits him."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that the owner isn't involved in the everyday lives of the players the way the coach is. The coach is the one who works with them, watches them, analyses them, and figures out how to get the best out of each one of them for the sake of the team. Players aren't cookie cutters, Dr. Smith, as much as you might like to make them fit into prefabricated boxes. Sometimes the best players are the ones who refuse to do those contortions."
"And sometimes they're the ones that get the proverbial boot to the backside."
"How does that make sense if they're the ones who get the job done?"
"Because they're dangerous, Billy. They're rogues who have the potential of bringing down the whole enchilada."
Billy could feel his blood-pressure rising. "They're only rogues if they don't care about the team. I think this particular duo have proven their dedication – even though they've been unfairly treated by the owner and the coach in the not-too-distant past."
Dr. Smith took another pull from his cigarette as he looked thoughtfully at Billy. "What is the legal status of the relationship, Billy?"
"Binding."
"Well, our star player certainly has an uncanny ability to complicate matters, doesn't he?"
"He always has, Sir." Billy nodded his head. "But you know as well as I do that he's the best player in the game. And sometimes accommodations need to be made for the antics of exceptional players because it's those very actions that make them so successful."
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