Authors: Bernard Lee DeLeo
“Will you mark it against us Mr. Connor?” Henry asked.
“Not at all,” Connor answered. “Some of you will be happier in the office. Some will be happier in the garage, and some will be happier on the road. After you all become competent in all phases of the work, you will only have to do what you dislike to keep your speed and expertise up. The most important goal will remain your absolute attention to detail and professionalism. Nate and I cannot make you into wealthy men without dedication on your part. Dedication in a business sometimes relies on doing what you dislike very well. I have hopes you all will come to love all aspects of the business. Money helps to smooth over the rough spots. Now.”
Nate came in, leading the other three. He stopped, and looked over the office from one end to the other, as he stood in the doorway. “Wow, no sirens, no dead bodies, this has been a good day.”
After the laughter died down, Nate tossed the keys to Sammy. “I guess that’s enough for one day young bloods. Take the crew home Sammy, and keep the phone next to you in case Captain America here decides to go out on the town again tonight.”
“I will Mr. Johnson,” Sammy laughed. They all filed out with him in the lead and said their goodbyes as they left.
“One hell of a day Nate,” Connor observed to his partner. “We have a first rate crew here. If we can keep the outside distractions to a minimum, we will have them trained in no time.”
Nate nodded his head in agreement. “They drive like pros. This getting a hold of them when they are young really works like a Swiss watch. I think you are right, we will at least be able to put them to work in the office and the limos ahead of schedule. The best ones can help train the ones to follow. I know you cannot teach them the repair part without some hands on repetition, so maybe I can relieve you in a few weeks on the office part. You can then concentrate on getting them immersed in the maintenance aspect with your supervision.”
“Works for me,” Connor agreed. “Want to lock up and take me back to the Center?”
“Actually, I want to know where you plan on putting the Super Computers Derek has for us.”
“I want them in the back office, where we have them closed in with good ventilation,” Connor answered. “They cannot be seen back there by the casual person wondering around in the office. We also have the counter between the customers and the door to the office. I plan on reinforcing the office door leading back there too.”
“You mean in addition to your hex?” Nate asked.
Connor sighed. “Yes Nate, in addition to my hex. I want these guys used to security procedures. I want anything taken into and out of the office to be safer than Los Alamos.”
“Pick another place for reference,” Nate commented.
“Uh…point taken, anyway, you know what I mean. I want fingerprint or iris scans of anyone going in there, and a log kept on computer with backup of the time anything gets done. Many things may go in there, but nothing comes out without our personal authorization.”
“We should make it so it will take both of us to sign off on anything leaving there, just in case something odd happens,” Nate commented.
“You mean if someone decides to take one of our eyeballs and fingers?” Connor asked in return.
“Yea,” Nate said matter-of-factly. “They will need both that way. Since you will have the unclassified stuff out here on computer, it really will not hurt business. I like the idea of training these kids on top-secret security measures. It can do nothing but help them later on. When do you want them brought in?”
“I think we will clear out everything from the back office tomorrow morning,” Connor replied, “and have them put in right afterwards. I want to personally supervise the installation if you know what I mean.”
“Yea, our top-secret area could be bug central from inside out,” Nate agreed. “I don’t think Derek would do it though.”
“Me either, but the congressional committees, or the manufacturers could have the chip architecture itself rigged. After I touch them, no one will be safe trying to pry or hack their way into them.”
“Oh, you evil mutant,” Nate gasped in mock horror. “How could you even think to use your powers in such a fashion? But of course there is Karen…I mean…when you compare what.”
“Enough,” Connor laughed. “Turn that record over. You cannot live on past triumphs forever. Get some new material.”
“Oh, I will, make no mistake about that one Batman. Now, let me get you home, so I can go and get to my son’s homophobic scout meeting.”
“Still fighting over that crap huh?” Connor asked.
“Are you kidding?” Nate sighed. “It will never be over. After we get done with the gangs and the commies, we need to start on the liberals.”
“I am too old to take on the liberals,” Connor replied. “Just the thought of being in the same room with those vacuous meatheads makes my blood curdle. Come on, I don’t want you to miss any of it. Just relax Nate, and tie a few knots, go over the latest reviews of camping gear, and forget your troop belongs to one of the last bastions against perversity left in the Western world.”
“Did I tell you one of the teachers at the school we hold our meetings at got up at a PTA meeting to denounce us as homophobic, racist bigots, and that we should be banned from school property. I thought Claire was going to prison, because before I knew what was happening, she was in this woman’s face.”
“Oooohhhh.,” Connor said. “I will lock up. You get the Lincoln fired up. You have to tell me this one on the way. Do not leave out any details.”
Later in the Lincoln, Connor reminded Nate where he had left off on the story.
“Oh yea, so Claire marches right up to this woman, nose to nose, and says: ‘Sit down you halfwit. How dare you call my husband and I racists.’ The woman literally shrank into her seat. Claire walked up to the lectern. She introduced herself and our troop.
She then said, ‘I believe you have a problem in disseminating between hatred and revulsion. A phobia means a fear of something, in this case the homosexual lifestyle. For example, if you hate spiders, when you see one on the street, you may instantly want to destroy it, and for hours afterward you may think about the insect with rage. If, on the other hand, the spider causes you to have feelings of revulsion when you see it on the street, you immediately go out of your way to avoid it like the plague, and you dismiss it from your mind after it leaves your field of vision. My husband, and I, and the boy scout troop, and parents, harbor no feelings of fear or hatred for homosexuality, only revulsion, which naturally causes us to exercise our right of association. I know that for some of you weirdoes, English is a second language, but I will not stand by and allow you to assault our beliefs. Keep a civil tongue in your perverted mouths or I will rip it out.’ Now I tell you Thomas, there were gasps of indignation, but the whole auditorium erupted in applause, and a standing ovation. The school backed off, but they still try to get us banned, and they do it behind our backs.”
“Nate,” Connor laughed, “I have got to meet Claire. That story made me want to cheer. How the hell did she ever come up with the spider analogy? It fit perfectly, and what an ending line.”
“Oh man, she had them on the ropes, but these perverted idiots never give up. They just back up and take it into the shadows.”
“Does this stuff bother the boys much?” Connor asked.
“We try to insolate them from most of this whacko stuff,” Nate answered, “but they do get some bad feedback from these teachers. On nights where we have meetings, Nate Jr. wears his uniform to class. The first time, the teacher launched into this tirade about bigotry, and singled out my son. This guy actually uses my son as an example of intolerance. Nate Jr. gets home, and tells Claire and I about it. Claire runs into the bedroom and starts suiting up.”
“Suiting up?”
“Yea Thomas,” Nate laughed. “Claire was going to take this guy out. I had to calm her down, and agree to let me educate this guy myself. It was the only way to save his life, not that I did not relish a little recon on this weasel.”
“Serves the idiot right,” Connor commented. “He broke one of the major rules for survival: thou shalt not mess with a Company operative’s child.”
“Exactly,” Nate agreed. “Well, I found out where he lived, and showed up next to him in the dark at his bedside. Now naturally, I had suited up for anonymity, and I did not say a word. I just worked the little prick over without making any visible marks, until I felt satisfied Claire would approve. I put the sleeper on him, and got out quietly.”
“Nicely done Nate,” Connor commented. “He could not put anything together then. Did it help?”
“When Nate Jr. walked into the classroom with his uniform on after that, the guy kept his mouth shut. He could never be sure. Nate Jr. said the guy started to say something, but shut up when Nate Jr. smiled at him. He tried the old grade punishment, but Claire was way ahead of him. She documented every paper: homework, quiz, and test. When he gave Nate Jr. a D, Claire called a meeting with the principal, and this guy, in which she ate his lunch.”
“It’s a damn shame you have to go through all this just to keep your kid in school,” Connor said. “Are you going to transfer him to private school?”
“No, my son says he has too many friends in the school he goes to, so Claire and I thought we would wait until high school, and just keep him up to speed ourselves. In this day and age, you have to teach your kids the basics at home, or they will not even be able to read. Speaking of kids Mutie, are you going to give it a try again?”
“I don’t know Nate. I am pretty old to…hey Nate, pull over.”
Nate pulled over, and saw what had captured Connor’s attention. Three men were dragging a longhaired, all white dog down the street. The dog had a muzzle on, and tried to pull back on the rope attached to its neck. Every time the dog bulked, one of the men kicked it in its side. The dog looked like a husky, and seemed big enough to pull a sled, although its nose was more long and slender. The dog took the abuse without sound, and would not give up. All three men Connor guessed to be in their twenties. Two of the men were white, and over six feet tall. Their hair hung over their necks, and they both had dark beards. The ball caps they wore were too faded to tell what they said. One was fat, but broad shouldered, and thickly muscled. The other had a medium build, and weighed at least a hundred pounds less. The third man wore his jet-black hair tied tightly in a pony-tail. He looked to be around five feet ten inches tall to Connor. His dark complexion, Connor felt could either be Latin, or American Indian. His arms bulged with muscle, and he seemed to be the most vicious of the three.
“What do you have in mind there Batman. We really do not need a dog,” Nate advised.
“I will be right back Nate. I like the looks of that dog, and I think I will buy him. I’ll stay out of trouble.”
Nate snorted derisively. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” He sighed deeply, and settled back in his seat as he watched Connor approach the men and the dog.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” Connor said as he walked up. “Would you like to sell that dog you’re kicking the crap out of?”
“Fuck you man,” the biggest of the three said. “This fuckin’ mutt’s dyin’ today.”
“What did the dog do anyway,” Connor asked, “get downwind of you and pass out?”
“Why you.” the big man started towards Connor, but the dark complexioned man held up his hand.
“How much? The dog won’t fight, so we’ve lost money.”
“How much did you lose?” Connor asked. “Maybe I can help you cut your losses.”
“Two hundred,” Pony-tail answered.
Connor pulled a wad out of his pocket and peeled off three hundred dollar bills. He handed them to the pony-tail guy, and took the leash from the thin white guy, who released it with some surprise.
“Cool. Take the mutt.”
Connor knelt down and took the muzzle off the dog, and looked at him for a moment. The dog sat down with his head tilted sideways, and then raised his paw to shake hands. Connor chuckled, and shook the big dog’s paw.
“How fuckin’ touchin’,” the big one sneered. “Let’s see that wad you pulled out friend, and maybe we’ll let you and the pooch go.”
Connor looked at the dog for a moment longer, and the dog laid down at his feet, with his head on his paws. Connor straightened up. “First, El Dumbo, I am not your friend. Secondly, no one has to get hurt today if you stick to the deal. Walk away.”
The pony-tailed guy smiled at Connor, as he stayed between the now blustering big guy and Connor. He turned and looked at the big guy, and told him to wait until Connor turned away in Spanish. Connor smiled and said in Spanish, “that will only get you and your compadre killed amigo.”
The man laughed, and looked at his thin white friend, who had reached behind his back, under his shirt. The thin one pulled a Colt.45 caliber automatic from his waistband, and brought it up to cover Connor. A popping like sound broke the silence, and the automatic flew from the thin man’s bloody hand, as he fell to the ground gripping his bleeding appendage.
The pony-tailed man looked across the street, where a silencer muzzle poked from the passenger side window with smoke coming from it. He raised his hands smiling, and stepped back. “Okay dude, no problem. Take the dog.”
“Yea, take the fuckin’ mutt,” the big man said as he stepped forward to launch a kick at the dog’s side. Connor broke his leg at the kneecap, and watched with some satisfaction as the big man collapsed, screaming in a high-pitched voice. The pony-tail guy stopped smiling, and started running. Connor looked both ways, and started across the street with the dog docilely following close behind. Connor let the dog in the backseat, and then he slid onto the front passenger seat. Nate drove away.
“No trouble huh Mutie?”
“There never really was any real trouble until you decided some target practice was in order,” Connor chuckled. “Nice shot by the way. Getting a little bored waiting in the car, were we?”
“A little,” Nate laughed. “I took an instant dislike to those guys. I see you have a new friend. I hope for your sake he does not mess up my back seat.”
“He can stay at the business after tonight.” Connor called Quenton at home, and told him about the dog. Quenton laughed, and said he would tell them to let Connor through for tonight with the dog. Connor thanked him and hung up.”
“You going to call an ambulance for those guys back there?” Nate asked.
“What for?”
Nate laughed, as he looked back at the quiet dog on his backseat. “I guess our friend in the back seat will like us a hell of a lot better than those slime balls who had him.”
Connor looked back at the dog with interest. “I don’t know what it is Nate, but this dog really has something.”
“Maybe he’s a mutant like you,” Nate replied. “You know, it takes one to know one.”
“No,” Connor smiled, “but I know he is smart. He can’t be much more than a couple of years old. I have to come up with a name for him he will take to. You have any ideas Nate?”
“Look Thomas, what in the world do we need with a dog? Are you looking for more trouble? Dogs take a lot of care.”
“I know, I know,” Connor admitted. “I like him. You won’t have to deal with him. I’ve had dogs before. With the right training, he can get along real good at our place. We have that huge lot out back he can run around in.”
“Okay, why don’t you call him Barf?” Nate offered.
“Barf? What kind of a name is that for a neat dog like this?”
Nate looked back at the dog. “Hey Barf, you like your name, huh Barf?”
The dog lifted his head, and gave out a short bark. Both men laughed.
“I told you he’d like it. It’s short and sweet.”
“Okay, if he’s happy, I’m happy,” Connor agreed.
“You want to stop at that little store just before the Center and buy some dog food? He’s probably pretty hungry.”
“No,” Connor answered. “Just let us off at the store, and he and I will walk over to the Center. He will need a walk anyway.”
Nate nodded. They drove on in a comfortable silence, with Connor stroking the dog’s head, as it looked out of the front windshield from the backseat. Nate pulled the Lincoln up in front of the store, and stayed with the dog, while Connor went in and bought a bag of dog food. He came out, and said goodbye to Nate, taking the dog out of the backseat. Connor watched Nate drive away with a little backward wave, and then he put Barf on his leash. The dog did not object, and when Connor started walking, the dog kept right beside him. The dog stopped at every corner, and sat until Connor gave a little tug on the leash. The guards at the Center entrance checked Connor’s ID, and laughed at his companion. Quenton had already prepped them on the dog’s arrival.
Inside the complex, Connor only ran into interference from a female guard at the front desk. She called out to him as he walked by her station, although the male security guard tried to stop her. Connor turned and walked over to her. Clipped brown hair, stout figure, and a scowl she directed at Connor from almost eye level, made Connor wonder what this mean faced, woman with Williams on her nametag had in store for him. He smiled at her with his most charming smile, which from his scarred countenance, probably looked worse than her scowl. She looked down at the dog with disgust. Barf, for his part sat down quietly.
“You know Connor, I’ve been watching you. You come into the Center in handcuffs, and all of a sudden, you’re doing anything you want, like you run the place. Now you traipse in here with that mutt like this was a local kennel.”
“Officer Williams,” Connor said politely. “I cleared this action with Director Quenton, as I am sure you already know. If you have a problem with me, take it up with the Director. It will not get you anywhere, but it might make you feel better. I will have the dog out of here tomorrow for good.”
“We do not allow any animals other than the human variety in here,” She countered. “Take the dog out and chain it up outside near the guardhouse. They can watch the thing until morning.”
“What part of ‘I have cleared this with the Director’ do you not understand?” Connor asked. “I can call him if you like, but you will not be happy with the reaction you get. He ought to be just sitting down to dinner. In any case, the dog comes with me.”
“Listen you smart ass prick,” she began angrily, “I’ve handled assholes like you before. You never know where to stop testing the boundaries. I say the Director does not know you plan on rooming with this mangy piece of shit.”
Connor pulled out his cell-phone out, and pressed the button for Quenton’s home. Quenton answered it on the second ring. “Sorry to bother you Derek, but an Officer Williams at the front desk does not believe I have permission to take my dog Barf with me to my room.”