tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25071408978832724782024-02-06T22:34:32.491-08:00a child will slap your facenick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-24676222414160670732020-09-30T03:48:00.004-07:002022-02-21T15:40:16.122-08:00bad road to the dead river - 32. strangers in the night<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> thirty-two </font> of thirty-two
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<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-31-follow-you.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<font color = "navy">anne greenleaf kicked off her shoes and leaned back on the couch in her apartment.
<p>
two stiff drinks sat on the coffee table between anne and rutherford b hayes, who sat up straight on the edge of a big armchair, looking neither particularly interested nor particularly bored.
<p>
rutherford’s drink was stiffer than anne’s. anne was determined to get him drunk, and do whatever else it took to get him to tell her who and what he really was.
<p>
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“drink up,” anne invited rutherford.
<p>
riurherford took a healthy swallow of his drink. if he thought it strong, he did not show it.
<p>
anne took a sip of hers. “now, rutherford,” she told him. “the time for silly games has past. why don’t you really tell me all about yourself?’
<p>
‘i already did.”
<p>
“i don’t think so. do you really expect me to believe that a person with no i d, and no memory of who he is, and no luggage , can stay nice and clean and healthy looking in this evil city, just by finding people to give him money every day and letting him sleep in their apartment?. and never have a run in with the police, who are everywhere?”
<p>
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<br>
rutherford shrugged. “but i just did, didn’t i?”
<p>
“with the secret service? they are not exactly the police. i think that is how you slipped up somehow. though i can not figure how.”
<p>
rutherford looked around anne’s small but tastefully furnished apartment. “this is a nice place.”
<p>
“yes, it is.”
<p>
“can i stay overnight?”
<p>
“of course.”
<p>
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<p>
“there you have it.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
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<br>
grundy turned the key and pushed open the door to his apartment.
<p>
it was dark except for the light from the television.
<p>
his mom was watching jerry perkins. jerry perkins was a long running tv show about a bartender who solved murders and other crimes in his time off.
<p>
“were you worried about me?” grundy asked.
<p>
“no, i could feel you were all right. you are kind of late, though. anything exciting happen?’
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0eKlq9PyW9uuNyv6tzuDPTSL_Zzp9Ct2GF0-VCuxQoMnWUWiEV_8ZZ5jYF32tHyVigLnytNKAYDEpR_cBmhid1j474hhO6DjR3STGa7HJyiymdGOx3EkFZ_2B3Cw_W1O0rx8iQbz3dKQQ/s1600/btdr-32-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0eKlq9PyW9uuNyv6tzuDPTSL_Zzp9Ct2GF0-VCuxQoMnWUWiEV_8ZZ5jYF32tHyVigLnytNKAYDEpR_cBmhid1j474hhO6DjR3STGa7HJyiymdGOx3EkFZ_2B3Cw_W1O0rx8iQbz3dKQQ/s1600/btdr-32-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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grundy thought of telling her about rutherford b hayes,, which was kind of weird if not exactly exciting, but decided he probably could not get her to understand how weird it was. besides, he knew she really would rather watch jerry perkins.
<p>
“no, “ he said. “ we just had to wait on this guy. it was nothing special.”
<p>
he went into the kitchenette and took a bottle of seltzer water out of the refrigerator.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><font color = "red"> the end of "bad road to the dead river" </font></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-79507918375361454892020-09-29T02:36:00.004-07:002020-09-30T03:53:10.273-07:00bad road to the dead river - 31. follow you anywhere<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> thirty-one </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-30-angel-of-mercy.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguN1NqU0z2YY54W4p0c8XSoM2BubymAtGg6vxAcRYq1RvwYB8c0Y_FGYVORe9_bSrsX43zZaH2ObbR4v0cKHkGVf7kr9Y7n7ICriDNlXrZ4-q6xwXdCDXlxxexMjztrRyLfIndMCESomYr/s1600/btdr-31-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguN1NqU0z2YY54W4p0c8XSoM2BubymAtGg6vxAcRYq1RvwYB8c0Y_FGYVORe9_bSrsX43zZaH2ObbR4v0cKHkGVf7kr9Y7n7ICriDNlXrZ4-q6xwXdCDXlxxexMjztrRyLfIndMCESomYr/s1600/btdr-31-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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<font color = "navy">“hello. do i know you?” pablo asked the young woman he thought might be the long ago joanie.
<p>
“maybe,” she quickly replied, turning to look him directly in the face. “have you heard me talking? down in the square?”
<p>
“”uh - no, i don’t tihnk so.”
<p>
“is this guy bothering you, joanie?’ pablo heard the voice of the neanderthal looking coffee shop manager behind him.
<p>
joanie!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMUaH9A8FGcmhMYkk2K_4F44_w-WvfBxZbYLTPapE-c6YEfEiztGU1lIk5JtoMNqkaHK_dYv71LmFUMsaqqUdSYNiZ4Lu-vkJftv-ug1U1zexG-x2D8-ulwSPrrW2_CIllAk7YAoTBfED/s1600/btdr-31-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMUaH9A8FGcmhMYkk2K_4F44_w-WvfBxZbYLTPapE-c6YEfEiztGU1lIk5JtoMNqkaHK_dYv71LmFUMsaqqUdSYNiZ4Lu-vkJftv-ug1U1zexG-x2D8-ulwSPrrW2_CIllAk7YAoTBfED/s1600/btdr-31-b.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
“no, it’s cool, ralph,” she told him. “so where do you know me from, my friend?” she asked pablo.
<p>
pablo told her as quickly as possible about his meeting with the young woman on the deserted road in the heartland. she listened without interrupting, keeping her blue eyes on his face the whole time.
<p>
“was that you?’” pablo finished his tale. “do you remember it?”
<p>
“yes, i remember it. let’s get out of these people’s way here.” she nodded to one of the small tables. a teenaged boy and girl brushed past pablo’s back.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkj3AEJFOD6qOekM2ZZd7N-sR0krZ87UG50F89Ecu8foBPirtG8Gum50YeelhftveV9TeyBvLozdKBeZYdh0y8CZ2zmYmvlVtddH5vtaXgOopR4UqdddM6FBKtV0EKx_VVzqzWznFCI6J/s1600/btdr-31-c-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkj3AEJFOD6qOekM2ZZd7N-sR0krZ87UG50F89Ecu8foBPirtG8Gum50YeelhftveV9TeyBvLozdKBeZYdh0y8CZ2zmYmvlVtddH5vtaXgOopR4UqdddM6FBKtV0EKx_VVzqzWznFCI6J/s1600/btdr-31-c-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
pablo and joanie sat down at the table.
<p>
“i remember it,” joanie said. “i don’t think i would have remembered you. you are all grown up.”
<p>
“well, i am not a little kid any more,” pablo agreed.
<p>
“i guess it must be you, how else would you know about it?”
<p>
“it’s a small world,” pablo said, desperate to keep the conversation going. he had completely forgotten about watching the professor, and his reason for being in the coffee shop.
<p>
“yes, it is,” joanie agreed. “excuse me while i get myself a cup of coffee.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wHhNpGjg9J21Svt7mdptw-04YJ5OKVnyDihTCjL4mp6NVfr7BbMr-JLz3I3tFMYCL7bGHLfdL1LvyMIoVbaX0f0lywXQ7MvUJZD_aT0b236SmbelnWQjVBeIfrcfYlKDfZ9LVEgVbW4_/s1600/btdr-31-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wHhNpGjg9J21Svt7mdptw-04YJ5OKVnyDihTCjL4mp6NVfr7BbMr-JLz3I3tFMYCL7bGHLfdL1LvyMIoVbaX0f0lywXQ7MvUJZD_aT0b236SmbelnWQjVBeIfrcfYlKDfZ9LVEgVbW4_/s1600/btdr-31-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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“all right. hey, it’s on me,” pablo said. he fumbled in his pocket for his two thousand dollar coffee card and handed it to joanie. “here, buy anything you want with this.”
<p>
“anything? how about a coffee and a donut?” joanie turned the card over in her fingers.
<p>
“sure.” pablo started to explain about the two thousand dollars but thought better of it.
<p>
joanie quickly returned with her coffee and donut and gave the card back to pablo.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_lw_8s6B5Pi8DzgJSZ64lJYJm74Yua79uenKQYzje0Rch2GXvKyb8IsQrJgH27VtOfJ2ERG2D46BAGiNr7JnfUfa1p2kY2oEwn8qxyEUAGBShyHkjTqkUWbEmUMUE5_uSEqrvQOjijVDp/s1600/btdr-31-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_lw_8s6B5Pi8DzgJSZ64lJYJm74Yua79uenKQYzje0Rch2GXvKyb8IsQrJgH27VtOfJ2ERG2D46BAGiNr7JnfUfa1p2kY2oEwn8qxyEUAGBShyHkjTqkUWbEmUMUE5_uSEqrvQOjijVDp/s1600/btdr-31-e.gif" data-original-width="200" data-original-height="320" /></a></div>
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“so, what are you doing here in the imperial city?” she asked pablo. “are you prospering?”
<p>
“a little bit of this, a little bit of that ,” pablo answered the first question. “how about you, what are you doing?”
<p>
“saving the world.”
<p>
“oh,” pablo was a little surprised, but not totally. he had met a lot of people saving the world, in jail and out of it. “i remember you told me you were going to be a soci - soci - something .”
<p>
joanie laughed. “you have a good memory.”
<p>
“sure i remember. it was the scariest thing that ever happened to me, and i was just a kid. and you saved me. i remember everything. i’ll never forget it.”
<p>
“that’s very nice of you,“ joanie said. she took a sip of her coffee.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1qgB7xVrrKV1ppEBDYFyqlERrcXq4grahCuU_fYY5iNEgYz88fWzNs4vQ7cgyIBg-R1jmK8e_w1UPHKdmwuBZfM9U_Sob17GLRKklCEMKDA-ICVbzmxTISAxSdp6KdbmsZxUWz7SQztl/s1600/btdr-31-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1qgB7xVrrKV1ppEBDYFyqlERrcXq4grahCuU_fYY5iNEgYz88fWzNs4vQ7cgyIBg-R1jmK8e_w1UPHKdmwuBZfM9U_Sob17GLRKklCEMKDA-ICVbzmxTISAxSdp6KdbmsZxUWz7SQztl/s1600/btdr-31-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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“i mean it,” pablo said. “i would do anything for you!” he blurted out. “i would follow you anywhere.” he looked around to see if anyone had heard him and was laughing, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention, not even ralph, the neanderthal manager.
<p>
joanie smiled at him, really smiled at him for the first time. “you will have to excuse me but it has been a long time. what did you say your name was?”
<p>
“pablo.”
<p>
“it’s a funny coincidence, pablo, but i have been looking for a faithful follower. a true faithful follower who, as you say, will follow me anywhere.”
<p>
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“that’s me,” pablo said. he suddenly remembered mister brown, but decided just as suddenly to forget all about him.
<p>
“do you have anywhere you have to be?” joanie asked. she had finished her coffee and pushed an uneaten half of the donut aside.
<p>
“no.”
<p>
“then come on down to the square with me. i will explain my - our - mission to you.”
<p>
“that sounds great.”</font>
<p>
<p>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-32-strangers-in.html"><font color = "red"> 32. strangers in the night </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-63848920566343179842020-09-28T04:28:00.003-07:002020-09-29T02:39:04.555-07:00bad road to the dead river - 30. angel of mercy<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
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<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> thirty </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-29-east-st-louis.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwimDE0fpW9pr7MrGtFqrDuIZ7h36BQsZS1P455fYftX4PJdQhiC-Fa2To_QFSXIjMyeh96J1sgjPwS_x4cQiNyNfQ6R5A6tWTUgAqK7bJn1GKnbNauE-prjeqTGQ9_ucDQ5sQY-J-6YZb/s1600/btdr-30-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwimDE0fpW9pr7MrGtFqrDuIZ7h36BQsZS1P455fYftX4PJdQhiC-Fa2To_QFSXIjMyeh96J1sgjPwS_x4cQiNyNfQ6R5A6tWTUgAqK7bJn1GKnbNauE-prjeqTGQ9_ucDQ5sQY-J-6YZb/s1600/btdr-30-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">pablo did not know what to do.
<p>
suddenly he remembered the phone big chico had given him - given him for just such a situation! in his panic, he had forgotten all about it.
<p>
pablo reached into his pocket. his fingers found nothing.
<p>
he tried the other pocket. nothing there either. he started to panic.
<p>
the back pockets, even though he knew he never put anything in this back pockets.
<p>
no phone.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8wxE5iK-q6vez8PvK_XTMou94XCrX257fy3MN_2_blkZQRyfggZi-74vxWEbUC5zeaZerMz8vNPgjvQecqB26XTs1hGRV-u0cqOyTWMSVeAMx4r-AZSC27iJNVq8Nq3-K5xTmjiDtGXm/s1600/btdr-30-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8wxE5iK-q6vez8PvK_XTMou94XCrX257fy3MN_2_blkZQRyfggZi-74vxWEbUC5zeaZerMz8vNPgjvQecqB26XTs1hGRV-u0cqOyTWMSVeAMx4r-AZSC27iJNVq8Nq3-K5xTmjiDtGXm/s1600/btdr-30-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
it must have fallen out of his pocket when he was sleeping in the back seat of the packard.
<p>
of course! much as he hated to do so, he turned around and headed back to the abandoned car.
<p>
somehow the sight of the car sitting in the dark road frightened him more than anything that had already happened.
<p>
he opened the back door of the packard. the overhead light went on, but it was not very strong.
<p>
the phone was not lying in plan sight on the back seat, or on the floor. he dug his hands behind the seat cushions.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk626p1UBc0fuSiX2xH8QNIu9m8VqdeBHWjzT1Ff1uwea7f6sRrFAWCXTLJJOExk-vla66gOKkCGeFO0heH8DlmZOTYu8nS0o2_CiSdnoFT6mq72smnZ9zY6QuDg_G43gm2PmbqPDPEwU5/s1600/btdr-30-c-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk626p1UBc0fuSiX2xH8QNIu9m8VqdeBHWjzT1Ff1uwea7f6sRrFAWCXTLJJOExk-vla66gOKkCGeFO0heH8DlmZOTYu8nS0o2_CiSdnoFT6mq72smnZ9zY6QuDg_G43gm2PmbqPDPEwU5/s1600/btdr-30-c-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
nothing. he ran his hands behind the seat cushions again. still nothing.
<p>
could he drive the car, even with the front tires shot out? he had never actually driven a car before, although he felt he “knew how”.
<p>
the keys were not the ignition. pablo felt a brief sense of relief that they were not. chico could not blame him for not trying.
<p>
chico! what would chico think? he, pablo. had been given one simple task - to hold i to the phone, and he could not do it!
<p>
could he ever go back to the neighborhood? even if he somehow got back to the city?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4KjY7jTwlW_yaVy3N2yjEB8YaCkrf8wjb6W6mYCpTZC1352oXZIT6X7wda-W3mc1rZRy4nfCj4ZVUq5CNXv7cZSpFv_3jEGObN95Snv3zLsvTfTtCrSxFxRqIRF0YKKLJSXl0uUwLw5o/s1600/btdr-30-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4KjY7jTwlW_yaVy3N2yjEB8YaCkrf8wjb6W6mYCpTZC1352oXZIT6X7wda-W3mc1rZRy4nfCj4ZVUq5CNXv7cZSpFv_3jEGObN95Snv3zLsvTfTtCrSxFxRqIRF0YKKLJSXl0uUwLw5o/s1600/btdr-30-d.gif" data-original-width="320" data-original-height="320" /></a></div>
<br>
and where was he anyway? and what if the three hundred pound quadruplets, or somebody like them, came back?
<p>
maybe he had dropped the phone when he got out of the car? he got out of the car again.
<p>
the phone was not right beside the car, in the dirt beside the door he had first gotten out of.
<p>
it was dark. trying to find the phone was hopeless.
<p>
should he keep looking for it, or give up and start walking?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHaG83qO5ubG4BFkiYTq_PMsl-I9fFbtoQ_9shQnf7wUdnuZa1h6yeeW9tdALJ8UwpXmGrbE3RSMpPMkzMMCmmB8RbgLF5OslbWDnj6oaQBy1ND5cYw8wsdQT5nP8Q0CPaOz712U5tKHB/s1600/btdr-30-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHaG83qO5ubG4BFkiYTq_PMsl-I9fFbtoQ_9shQnf7wUdnuZa1h6yeeW9tdALJ8UwpXmGrbE3RSMpPMkzMMCmmB8RbgLF5OslbWDnj6oaQBy1ND5cYw8wsdQT5nP8Q0CPaOz712U5tKHB/s1600/btdr-30-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
while he was trying to make up his mind, wanting to run, but fearful of what big chico would think if he gave up looking for the phone, he saw a small light coming down the road toward him.
<p>
it was too small to be the light of a car or a truck.
<p>
it was a bicycle light.
<p>
the bicycle was ridden by a young girl, a girl just a few years older than pablo. she stopped, and asked pablo what he was doing.
<p>
pablo told his tale as best he could. the girl did not seem overly surprised at his story.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9SsA3rVs4rKdanpODilSPu_cAS9qhO9Vdd6ovtvuwQ6dAoYSyN_tDHWQaijRavnM_yeoMXGx1peFI-QNV8zb0Fgg7SA7LaIT-5TTpLnA6KOc3JHVVvwX4G36NywZJCFCA9ZKCYr7OA_g/s1600/btdr-30-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9SsA3rVs4rKdanpODilSPu_cAS9qhO9Vdd6ovtvuwQ6dAoYSyN_tDHWQaijRavnM_yeoMXGx1peFI-QNV8zb0Fgg7SA7LaIT-5TTpLnA6KOc3JHVVvwX4G36NywZJCFCA9ZKCYr7OA_g/s1600/btdr-30-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“those clowns,” she said, shaking her head. i don’t think they will really hurt your friend. probably just have a little of what they call fun with him. i doubt if they will actually hurt him.”
<p>
in his panic about the phone pablo had forgotten all about deano. he tried to explain about the phone again to the girl.
<p>
“you want to look for the phone?” the girl asked. “all right, i have a flashlight, we can take a quick look.” she produced a small flashlight, got off the bike and started looking around the ground, and under the car.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgHsnRx4OVbbUt1dHkgO7W7VC01I2FslZRfDFJQ-ghRwHJDsc8UlCTFDPR5oXEPBqau1cs0oCCl9hVs7clFRrqCklL3Q7kTgP5vlsUVbFiFUZkPmh3wnp9ptJzH_h7-bUnSbbrPiJ4tD4/s1600/btdr-30-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgHsnRx4OVbbUt1dHkgO7W7VC01I2FslZRfDFJQ-ghRwHJDsc8UlCTFDPR5oXEPBqau1cs0oCCl9hVs7clFRrqCklL3Q7kTgP5vlsUVbFiFUZkPmh3wnp9ptJzH_h7-bUnSbbrPiJ4tD4/s1600/btdr-30-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
it had been snowing lightly the whole time, and now the snow started coming down a little harder.
<p>
“this is hopeless, “ the girl said. “even if it is around here, the snow will cover it. why don’t you come with me, you can try calling your friend from there.”
<p>
“but i don’t know his number, just the number three.”
<p>
“whatever, i think you better come with me.”
<p>
“you mean ride on the handlebars?”
<p>
“ha, ha. no, you are a little too big for that. i will just walk the bike, and you follow me. it is not that far.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodk3wbDAJfuHB8UCAosBEOIc5Eg0-z2NzmeljhYxGmkuzTsHA_GXtusVkDnlLRnqtPkXIsReI2o14yRtXUsZVMbUCatNcAaM1LaUNmwDHQOfs2sNyGcD3MfPjUQmCRQ1E1WEeqRv4tYZt/s1600/btdr-30-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodk3wbDAJfuHB8UCAosBEOIc5Eg0-z2NzmeljhYxGmkuzTsHA_GXtusVkDnlLRnqtPkXIsReI2o14yRtXUsZVMbUCatNcAaM1LaUNmwDHQOfs2sNyGcD3MfPjUQmCRQ1E1WEeqRv4tYZt/s1600/btdr-30-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“all right.”
<p>
walking along beside the girl, pablo decided she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. she started talking about herself, though pablo did not understand half of what she said. her name was joanie, and she wanted to be a sociologist, whatever that was…
<p>
pablo never went back to the north side, or saw big chico or deano or any of the gang again. joanie gave him a few dollars and he caught a bus going east. and he never saw joanie again.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS4iaiNpUDNrKM7CtOGt4KdlsC4TnLiq7QhDj8c-5wxZCqynvGgIVviiOtARkzH86B0nbkKMoB7pT51NbRV32nCTMKW9mV-MOtq-s4IM-W7VQrSm2JHgg0jt8Md0vCyuSBXjXUXj2reavb/s1600/btdr-30-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS4iaiNpUDNrKM7CtOGt4KdlsC4TnLiq7QhDj8c-5wxZCqynvGgIVviiOtARkzH86B0nbkKMoB7pT51NbRV32nCTMKW9mV-MOtq-s4IM-W7VQrSm2JHgg0jt8Md0vCyuSBXjXUXj2reavb/s1600/btdr-30-i.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
until now?
<p>
the young woman entering the coffee shop just as pablo got up to leave it looked familiar.
<p>
she looked like joanie! the girl who had saved him back in east st louis in the heartland on that snowy night...
<p>
older, of course. as she got closer to pablo, he saw she looked much older. still pretty, but like she had seen a few things.
<p>
could it really be her?
<p>
there was no harm in asking.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-31-follow-you.html"><font color = "red"> 31. follow you anywhere </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-3921591742050496622020-09-27T04:34:00.003-07:002020-09-28T04:32:02.334-07:00bad road to the dead river - 29. east st louis<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-nine </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-28-message-for.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrW5IXbbHQRgWuqel7RwcPWcJFXg9W_pOVEnf4RC36ZB0QypIjqbezZEdxwFvzIQvs-yeKUyq3AKAs9GC9qdioKvCzEZLg0z32ZpQm1U6KZwZHhCwQP_j2TxIbpLxA93ut5Jun9LJ1YMDU/s1600/btdr-29-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrW5IXbbHQRgWuqel7RwcPWcJFXg9W_pOVEnf4RC36ZB0QypIjqbezZEdxwFvzIQvs-yeKUyq3AKAs9GC9qdioKvCzEZLg0z32ZpQm1U6KZwZHhCwQP_j2TxIbpLxA93ut5Jun9LJ1YMDU/s1600/btdr-29-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">pablo woke up.
<p>
he had fallen asleep in the back seat of deano’s packard.
<p>
he sat up. the car had stopped. it was gray and overcast outside. a light rain - or was it snow? - was falling.
<p>
deano was mumbling to himself in the front seat, staring at the car’s small, cracked location tracking screen.
<p>
pablo did not say anything, not wanting to annoy deano, but deano, as if sensing pablo’s question , said aloud -
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvdOQchbioJSlN1Kn7Y4HAwhWvqPhs_oWy33_6rwR82utljYgXA97QNnXWHLKTirj2sG4eShxyB51iQM41OlvCP3yXoLBXnqV7LUqBWj3HZNBLr1x7-fAcwU10qABzvsFZDdC1MYcqf0B/s1600/btdr-29-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvdOQchbioJSlN1Kn7Y4HAwhWvqPhs_oWy33_6rwR82utljYgXA97QNnXWHLKTirj2sG4eShxyB51iQM41OlvCP3yXoLBXnqV7LUqBWj3HZNBLr1x7-fAcwU10qABzvsFZDdC1MYcqf0B/s1600/btdr-29-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i don’t know where we are.”
<p>
pablo did not say anything.
<p>
“the screen says we are in east st louis. but we are not in east st louis,” deano said.
<p>
pablo looked out the window. they seemed to be on a country road. there were no houses or buildings in sight. pablo had never seen a country road before, except in a comic book or on tv.
<p>
pablo had a few suggestions, like, “why don’t we just move, and we will get somewhere?” or “maybe we could get out of the car and look around?” but he was afraid to say anything to deano, who might not take kindly to suggestions from a little kid.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYsUwfZfe47kYRQKPXackLqMdSuo7gabuQz3Lw4xtE5V1_8nIr9pvgfdDyyrj39Kp2g9wuTD55zup_WSAZhEkslxU9h6CAIF3elZbOGSXpcxrDYpFKaW5KpRLqIu39bIo0FpAxOm6pF4r/s1600/btdr-29-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYsUwfZfe47kYRQKPXackLqMdSuo7gabuQz3Lw4xtE5V1_8nIr9pvgfdDyyrj39Kp2g9wuTD55zup_WSAZhEkslxU9h6CAIF3elZbOGSXpcxrDYpFKaW5KpRLqIu39bIo0FpAxOm6pF4r/s1600/btdr-29-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“this is not east st louis,” deano repeated. the snow - it was definitely snow now - though just a few flakes drifting down.
<p>
“do you want me to get out?” pablo asked.
<p>
“get out? for what?” deano asked.
<p>
“just look around. maybe there is a house around here somewhere. or a farm.” in the horror comics pablo read the “country” was always filled with old abandoned farmhouses and mansions. and the farmhouses and mansions were inhabited by mad scientists or zombies or cannibals.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqT7l7QLejUbttrQA7V4MbYrdc0sADka5C1ZXlv11VEAb74E-icLMTJ44mOcfrJWqsqEMK7qpgdCr_jaiYkR0uZrCAXAJryPDb4CUR7HOTdGop_XeM5L-SnGJB2g1wZiSuhIvmD4uFFRD/s1600/btdr-29-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqT7l7QLejUbttrQA7V4MbYrdc0sADka5C1ZXlv11VEAb74E-icLMTJ44mOcfrJWqsqEMK7qpgdCr_jaiYkR0uZrCAXAJryPDb4CUR7HOTdGop_XeM5L-SnGJB2g1wZiSuhIvmD4uFFRD/s1600/btdr-29-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
deano just grunted. then, waking from his reverie, he started the car up, and started driving down the “country road” which did not seem wide enough for one vehicle to pass another.
<p>
they drove about half a mile. the sky got a little darker and pablo switched his lights on.
<p>
they came around a bend in the road and suddenly another vehicle was in front of them.
<p>
deano slammed on the brakes. the other vehicle, which looked like a fairly large pickup truck, also stopped. there were about twenty yards of dirt road between the two vehicles.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQC6QXQ7tmlDHOISPicVJWB8T65NUYPjb-PtxSSzxViP7s1bhTi6-s9thlwBNloNeHq4qmqESz4D1esQCGrZBgbHwqUT-FWCeImk9JlD8QQUG-qUu4-NQKowuMFQy-Y02ef7FQdjyh_nJw/s1600/btdr-29-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQC6QXQ7tmlDHOISPicVJWB8T65NUYPjb-PtxSSzxViP7s1bhTi6-s9thlwBNloNeHq4qmqESz4D1esQCGrZBgbHwqUT-FWCeImk9JlD8QQUG-qUu4-NQKowuMFQy-Y02ef7FQdjyh_nJw/s1600/btdr-29-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
two men got slowly out of the front seat of the pickup.
<p>
pablo did not like their looks. they looked like twins. they wore wide brimmed straw hats with conical crowns, and bib overalls, and they looked like they weighed about three hundred pounds each.
<p>
one of the twins came up and looked in the window at deano.
<p>
“hello, there,” deano said. “we are sure glad to see you.”
<p>
“you think so?” the twin growled. “who might you be?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni6AE0BxALyjc50N8gyjmgfzbEu7G4-3fNbg1sij6pdzva_emZletISY6UmMlpKkaiSTwl1dmC8r-YTpIorm5UW4BdnlywhxP5KL9tak3BowFBrTeZ_jVlkKCzFvCQy5Zb4e2E2j3Y_pj/s1600/btdr-29-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni6AE0BxALyjc50N8gyjmgfzbEu7G4-3fNbg1sij6pdzva_emZletISY6UmMlpKkaiSTwl1dmC8r-YTpIorm5UW4BdnlywhxP5KL9tak3BowFBrTeZ_jVlkKCzFvCQy5Zb4e2E2j3Y_pj/s1600/btdr-29-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“is this east st louis?’ deano asked. “we are trying to get to east st louis.”
<p>
“this is east st louis,” the twin said.
<p>
“it is? can you tell me how to get to renaldo johnson’s gym on main street?”
<p>
“never heard of it.”
<p>
the other twin spoke up from behind the first one’s shoulder. “i think we have a mis-communication here. are you looking for east st louis illinois, friend?”
<p>
“yes, that’s right,” deano said. “renaldo johnson’s gym on main street.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4vOBApYchjAI01uNhAyKBNaX1_Ux-tT_GaKe6VaPMG64XQ0n6shbtTL-F26M59J3adT1bUOxko9Wt0KIr00v8-e3EtS7BVupC8L93k9z6muh5pt2t3q3cBmqC_Ii5rjGu12XFc1an5KY/s1600/btdr-29-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4vOBApYchjAI01uNhAyKBNaX1_Ux-tT_GaKe6VaPMG64XQ0n6shbtTL-F26M59J3adT1bUOxko9Wt0KIr00v8-e3EtS7BVupC8L93k9z6muh5pt2t3q3cBmqC_Ii5rjGu12XFc1an5KY/s1600/btdr-29-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i hate to break your heart, but this ain’t east st louis, illinois, it is east st louis, heartland territory a-2 . you are in the wrong place altogether.”
<p>
“oh,” deano said. “i guess that explains everything.”
<p>
“don’t explain nothing ,” the first twin said. “don’t explain why you be going to east st louis illinois. that’s gangster country.”
<p>
“i don’t know about that,” deano said.
<p>
pablo had not spoken the whole time and shrank back in the back seat. he looked out the window.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg033D4A2_xxk7szT-qKs583jhfEPN5qT2eeGGBWy9KItFTtrqj-9RUSln4OTF5bd9SVwRlRcTyjxt7s9hbZpnS9O9FjTFP5rN_ERlVVNBLAMQukg3R_AzMcU7cmIUq6XAl5JK7PMliqwAB/s1600/btdr-29-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg033D4A2_xxk7szT-qKs583jhfEPN5qT2eeGGBWy9KItFTtrqj-9RUSln4OTF5bd9SVwRlRcTyjxt7s9hbZpnS9O9FjTFP5rN_ERlVVNBLAMQukg3R_AzMcU7cmIUq6XAl5JK7PMliqwAB/s1600/btdr-29-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
two more men had gotten out of the bed of the pickup truck and were approaching the car. they looked just like the first two. now they were quadruplets!
<p>
“are you a gangster?” the first twin said to deano. “you look like a gangster, from chicago or cicero. driving this here packard, that’s a gangster car.”
<p>
deano tried to laugh. “you see any machine guns attached to it?”
<p>
“you got a smart mouth, don’t you, gangster boy?’ the twin pulled the door of the packard open.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb85xbjsxA5FIfikYdTXdbMsATmF4hwqYLDT6Btwa1TUFhzHb495_QQbfoXe3Mb9hQkoBU3Pz3QV9D57m1PMadcJIYXzbuymXmyo4bNBBdqLcrAWncIoICoUHz8QlfE3WWSi3yayfVTyPC/s1600/btdr-29-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb85xbjsxA5FIfikYdTXdbMsATmF4hwqYLDT6Btwa1TUFhzHb495_QQbfoXe3Mb9hQkoBU3Pz3QV9D57m1PMadcJIYXzbuymXmyo4bNBBdqLcrAWncIoICoUHz8QlfE3WWSi3yayfVTyPC/s1600/btdr-29-i.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
the first two twins reached in and hauled deano out of the car. the second pair of twins whooped and laughed. the first pair each had one of deano’s arms and dragged him back to the pickup truck.
<p>
one of the second pair took a pistol out of the big pocket of his coveralls and shot out the tires of the packard.
<p>
with deano in the back of the truck with the second pair, the first pair got back in the cab.
<p>
the truck backed up, turned around and disappeared down the darkening road.
<p>
they had seemed to take no notice of pablo at all. had they even seen him?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i3iDS3Gv9N2kEdx63RJLcw_FMNcKMwsnEe1tw6wR8LiQvQYenDQZKirs-e3-GxVjo0Sohs-K2RL6n-xXTYxRMcgpCkeEH7pXVRKo-1-TjvXpXE3hGLLbTlxjWRxf_JCJdQ3xcRfw05JP/s1600/btdr-29-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i3iDS3Gv9N2kEdx63RJLcw_FMNcKMwsnEe1tw6wR8LiQvQYenDQZKirs-e3-GxVjo0Sohs-K2RL6n-xXTYxRMcgpCkeEH7pXVRKo-1-TjvXpXE3hGLLbTlxjWRxf_JCJdQ3xcRfw05JP/s1600/btdr-29-j.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
after a few minutes, pablo got out of the packard and started walking.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-30-angel-of-mercy.html"><font color = "red"> 30. angel of mercy </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-56389344758973575072020-09-26T03:55:00.003-07:002020-09-27T04:38:59.966-07:00bad road to the dead river - 28. a message for renaldo<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-eight </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-27-bad-road.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "black" width = 530><tr><td>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjikju6LZ2WgVK8oOeU7pMkha1TJpo_yppPI7brcbdiHy_E5_I9qQExniroF_-eafvrKrOqwY9LweL-3TGsFQbEDkCHwTVwgzXF3Xh2WQyq2198PeftW8wDu01VCYDE9uV88RDJqF6pkyrU/s1600/btdr-28-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjikju6LZ2WgVK8oOeU7pMkha1TJpo_yppPI7brcbdiHy_E5_I9qQExniroF_-eafvrKrOqwY9LweL-3TGsFQbEDkCHwTVwgzXF3Xh2WQyq2198PeftW8wDu01VCYDE9uV88RDJqF6pkyrU/s1600/btdr-28-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">when pablo was growing up on the west side, he dreamed, like most of the little boys he knew, of joining the mob.
<p>
he quickly found that his dreams were mocked by the bigger, rougher boys, and learned to keep his fantasies to himself.
<p>
but he never gave them up.
<p>
he dropped out of school at a young age even for the neighborhood, and began hanging around duke’s barber shop, and al’s pool hall, and mickey’s newsstand. he never said to the cannon fodder he encountered in these places, “i want to grow up to be just like you”, but he became a familiar figure, and became trusted to run the most trivial errands and carry the most trivial messages.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2A6oRkgsQMdNPFbgrQ2d5JspPHc0_H6P5FULEwVNUyB0h1Rcq8n-eS3US9nUxRlbc9nd6C7EJ6unZVvUG_fUd_5rNc43BfKAxCJ81k5BWf-I22TRFCB4KkTyegqtBhxHvBq4-1gSQNRUX/s1600/btdt-28-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2A6oRkgsQMdNPFbgrQ2d5JspPHc0_H6P5FULEwVNUyB0h1Rcq8n-eS3US9nUxRlbc9nd6C7EJ6unZVvUG_fUd_5rNc43BfKAxCJ81k5BWf-I22TRFCB4KkTyegqtBhxHvBq4-1gSQNRUX/s1600/btdt-28-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
it should be noted that like many neighborhoods in the old cities of the inner empire, the mobs were the only law. and order. most of the inhabitants never saw a police person except on television. mayors and governors and presidential candidates would occasionally visit, surrounded by an inner ring of bodyguards who were themselves surrounded by an outer ring of bodyguards.
<p>
one day little pablo was sitting in duke’s barbershop reading a two year old copy of jungle space troopers comics, when big chico came in to the shop, with his habitual scowl on his face. big chico was a great guy if he liked you and you got to know him but he always had a scowl on his face.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMDVQphPhLkBL0foZrayUkqeMqTx7nT1XKj0E2VHf3EcrxINDhDakv2WhC_fbWLpk2d1LzJHB_eLEbdQd0s2ECFlDnFgX7z3Uk9kCzjQhvmv837LcUYiMSubFGCBv3fKIpjUbsXv0NbHU/s1600/btdr-28-c-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMDVQphPhLkBL0foZrayUkqeMqTx7nT1XKj0E2VHf3EcrxINDhDakv2WhC_fbWLpk2d1LzJHB_eLEbdQd0s2ECFlDnFgX7z3Uk9kCzjQhvmv837LcUYiMSubFGCBv3fKIpjUbsXv0NbHU/s1600/btdr-28-c-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
chico looked around the shop. he didn’t take his hat or coat off so he was not there for a shave or a haircut.
<p>
“anybpdy seen marco?” chico growled.
<p>
“haven’t seen him, “ duke the barber said.
<p>
the only grown mob guy in the place was deano, who was not all that bright. chico glared at him.
<p>
“i ain’t seen him either, chico,” deano said. “i can’t remember when i seen him.”
<p>
“why do all these bums disappear when i need them?” chico asked.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTn9kSbEzVIFe5-eR3SRQFv4wGRuBz9RiguzDvmAyPhxR9C9vWpFMbmEPMYp95l6d1HtcLr2_4k-cIiB-dVp5nPCdC00kzai23qJeEsBNz2HxWHHfObXZ6WXct5UXTlqXJYAQ3NJdDf2kr/s1600/btdr-28-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTn9kSbEzVIFe5-eR3SRQFv4wGRuBz9RiguzDvmAyPhxR9C9vWpFMbmEPMYp95l6d1HtcLr2_4k-cIiB-dVp5nPCdC00kzai23qJeEsBNz2HxWHHfObXZ6WXct5UXTlqXJYAQ3NJdDf2kr/s1600/btdr-28-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
pablo expected deano to say something like, i’m here, chico, but he did not. he was either too dumb or too smart to do so.
<p>
chico thought for a few seconds. “i want you to do something for me,” he said to deano,
<p>
“sure, chico,” deano replied like it was no big deal.
<p>
chico took a plain white envelope out of his coat pocket. it was unmarked, sealed, and not that thick - it obviously did not contain a wad of bills.
<p>
“take this and deliver it to renaldo johnson in east st louis. think you can do that?”
<p>
“sure.” deano answered easily.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBy_0J5ytM5zjqxLHFcXB5lG_ePY4dkvZz8U0zExTMJpPTcw61hlxgXJ4YQk9Cwuj07CkWkjdm0ffeGu6_AIkaHRzAE4gYyS7TM5pXQ1UDBk0fWlNWosYvujRzzRbj5UKBS8Lvbp9zFYLo/s1600/btdr-28-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBy_0J5ytM5zjqxLHFcXB5lG_ePY4dkvZz8U0zExTMJpPTcw61hlxgXJ4YQk9Cwuj07CkWkjdm0ffeGu6_AIkaHRzAE4gYyS7TM5pXQ1UDBk0fWlNWosYvujRzzRbj5UKBS8Lvbp9zFYLo/s1600/btdr-28-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“he’s got a gym on main street in east st louis. johnson’s gym. find him and deliver it to him personally. personally, you understand? into his own hand. don’t let anybody give you the runaround.”
<p>
“i got it, chico.”
<p>
”all right.” chico handed the envelope to deano. he glanced over and saw pablo. “take this kid with you. you mind going with renaldo, kid?”
<p>
“n-no!” pablo squeaked. chico and deano smiled, and duke the barber laughed out loud.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshd9UVCrre4e0G2TTWZH7hdljzWXzDvEle44wBk-sXSgJPYjLnQvTUm5cHElyY33WYUkltVOuxdq-bG9T5gpzl1v4_EmA49Cx74Z0cATkVVskoRre1BlpMnwx-vFxYJfhmQIMUohdgGDL/s1600/btdr-28-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshd9UVCrre4e0G2TTWZH7hdljzWXzDvEle44wBk-sXSgJPYjLnQvTUm5cHElyY33WYUkltVOuxdq-bG9T5gpzl1v4_EmA49Cx74Z0cATkVVskoRre1BlpMnwx-vFxYJfhmQIMUohdgGDL/s1600/btdr-28-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“what for?” deano asked. “what can he do?”
<p>
“i always like to send two people. he can call me if something goes wrong. here, kid.” chico took a tiny phone out of his pocket, and gave it to pablo. “if anything goes wrong, just call me. just dial three .you got that?”
<p>
“yes, mister cole.”
<p>
“good. what was the number again, to dial?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFm7woGmzd0BsEBZgMLo56W703XBRoplorLqkAT9bCmOAXbhOyFJkczSKsISqwFZHK_i8pSNPiASmMuTGJowd1xr01ZQnhCGEabvrIznA6NDSrNcnQ283SR2ECJnpIysEtSdxjFq9TDEW/s1600/btdr-28-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFm7woGmzd0BsEBZgMLo56W703XBRoplorLqkAT9bCmOAXbhOyFJkczSKsISqwFZHK_i8pSNPiASmMuTGJowd1xr01ZQnhCGEabvrIznA6NDSrNcnQ283SR2ECJnpIysEtSdxjFq9TDEW/s1600/btdr-28-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“three!”
<p>
“i see you are a bright kid, can keep a number in your head. i wish all my gorillas were that bright.. all right, get going with deano.”
<p>
pablo was vaguely aware that east st louis was over four hundred kilometers away. and his mother would wonder where he was.
<p>
but he didn’t care. this was his big chance! he was determined to make the most of it.
<p>
deano was waiting at the door of the shop and pablo joined him.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-29-east-st-louis.html"><font color = "red"> 29. east st louis </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-25581340898742746652020-09-25T03:56:00.006-07:002020-09-26T03:59:16.659-07:00bad road to the dead river - 27. bad road<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-seven </font> of thirty-ywo
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-26-barbary-coast.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
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<table bgcolor = "black" width = 530><tr><td>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrbdhyl8_rX_1uTAyiUaBig_zHLTVtNAqzibUG6r5XGInUa_3yK5KXTdF6g1TrdSROsnkwkDXxdlv6k3yv1TdcC_w_IwyuOrjiAwk7tyhWLP86X-0PBb6POl2J3fKQfxJ_gYL3R2t28sd/s1600/btdr-27-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrbdhyl8_rX_1uTAyiUaBig_zHLTVtNAqzibUG6r5XGInUa_3yK5KXTdF6g1TrdSROsnkwkDXxdlv6k3yv1TdcC_w_IwyuOrjiAwk7tyhWLP86X-0PBb6POl2J3fKQfxJ_gYL3R2t28sd/s1600/btdr-27-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">joanie drove the truck across the deserted parking lot and eased it down an unpaved slope and on to the highway. she turned right, heading north.
<p>
the “highway” was filled with ruts and potholes. there was no dividing line on it.
<p>
“so is this the barbary coast?” joanie asked ruby, who was riding shotgun beside her.
<p>
“you could call it that, “ ruby said. “there is no clear dividing line, there’s nothing official.”
<p>
“this road is awful,” joanie said. “does it get any better?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRii9Ng4hf2MpgO3NduWvHBli5qzHPU_oaI5rgI3ApH98BfIGu_XpHchZ6PSZvyBeMMgiBPOJ0FuvZus5Zfoiw82BqBMvweIVe7iqickWQ_gyBU4AYrZfb3CHCdoXIeczCUk4uubWgY_ot/s1600/btdr-27-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRii9Ng4hf2MpgO3NduWvHBli5qzHPU_oaI5rgI3ApH98BfIGu_XpHchZ6PSZvyBeMMgiBPOJ0FuvZus5Zfoiw82BqBMvweIVe7iqickWQ_gyBU4AYrZfb3CHCdoXIeczCUk4uubWgY_ot/s1600/btdr-27-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“no. maybe in a few spots, but this is basically it, except when it is really bad.”
<p>
“whatever.”
<p>
“i told you how bad it was,” ruby said.
<p>
“yes, you did. i guess it just didn’t register.”
<p>
despite the weight it was carrying in the back - food and water for two days, a few guns, some ammo, clothing and costumes, and big ticket and flabby judy - the truck was bouncing pretty good.
<p>
“do you want me to go faster?” joanie asked.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hB_FNCn3n91SMVU8SYEZHJ4vlN-wguMUqiLpW1LRBUgB3FdaXfu8dFdgiV3ZQR_zRwMPbKSuUf8UiTIKElJQpMWVox0zbG147QQo7cz8iVSs-Zx3bczq1YcSJAFnk59VFYUo4LjYhyA6/s1600/btdr-27-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hB_FNCn3n91SMVU8SYEZHJ4vlN-wguMUqiLpW1LRBUgB3FdaXfu8dFdgiV3ZQR_zRwMPbKSuUf8UiTIKElJQpMWVox0zbG147QQo7cz8iVSs-Zx3bczq1YcSJAFnk59VFYUo4LjYhyA6/s1600/btdr-27-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“a little faster. until it starts to get dark.”
<p>
“all right.”
<p>
“when it gets dark, “ ruby explained, “you can get people suddenly coming at you, especially from around bends.”
<p>
“i see there are no lines.” joanie said. “this is two-way, right?”
<p>
“oh, absolutely.”
<p>
“and there are no lights.”
<p>
ruby laughed. “forget lights. honey, lights and lines are the least of our worries.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUyMiMHGAYpa43oq_LjgjRN2f84L06kk019V-NPFtX0_6wZMM9iI_BdrbeUxhFQtPMZ0ga-hnzQI0pUvbDRycJCnUD1335azMC_7gEWvq5-ClmSdNkAf0GdC00HzXieTrZOzYN5AKkesX/s1600/btdr-27-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUyMiMHGAYpa43oq_LjgjRN2f84L06kk019V-NPFtX0_6wZMM9iI_BdrbeUxhFQtPMZ0ga-hnzQI0pUvbDRycJCnUD1335azMC_7gEWvq5-ClmSdNkAf0GdC00HzXieTrZOzYN5AKkesX/s1600/btdr-27-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
they bumped along. after half an hour they had still not seen another vehicle on either side of the road.
<p>
it started to get dark.
<p>
“we are making great time,” ruby said. “right on schedule . keep going until it gets completely dark, then i will take over.”
<p>
joanie wished ruby had not said things were going so well, because it might be unlucky, but she did not say so.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LAxyEPfszzoEFJO63AEtToIZd7jZG-5vmoWib1SAae47iXmt4x_3FDzouER5IHI0n3Cn3XzBYLefJcK8sYaVaLjqUlgBJrV9F4Buh-uyg5TV5g3RBRBUjo7firbCry1PbfdTEdKxC9R3/s1600/btdr-27-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LAxyEPfszzoEFJO63AEtToIZd7jZG-5vmoWib1SAae47iXmt4x_3FDzouER5IHI0n3Cn3XzBYLefJcK8sYaVaLjqUlgBJrV9F4Buh-uyg5TV5g3RBRBUjo7firbCry1PbfdTEdKxC9R3/s1600/btdr-27-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
it was completely dark. but ruby had fallen asleep.
<p>
they had still not encountered any other vehicles, or any signs of life. or any lights by the side of the road.
<p>
but the truck’s own lights were working, and joanie could see where she was going. she decided to let ruby sleep, and push on. she was not tired, and had no desire to get into the back of the truck.
<p>
then, finally, she saw another truck up ahead, coming toward her.
<p>
a much bigger truck than their own, and driving without lights. it was painted a light gray, and was visible enough.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxYCXx5-XiMg02mjK0rXIxEFxyqtOVtC-tUqU194-PySx70E3KEsYsf52l4_oVeKNqarnLqTOGTlFALhHnQEEm1HKDMSA_0iJyrxzX-949140syP5St1i8fEz3oVKTxfuHDth2WYMS7fJ/s1600/btdr-27-f-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxYCXx5-XiMg02mjK0rXIxEFxyqtOVtC-tUqU194-PySx70E3KEsYsf52l4_oVeKNqarnLqTOGTlFALhHnQEEm1HKDMSA_0iJyrxzX-949140syP5St1i8fEz3oVKTxfuHDth2WYMS7fJ/s1600/btdr-27-f-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
joanie slowed down a bit as the big truck passed. she could not see into its cab as it passed.
<p>
she breathed a sigh of relief. she watched in the rear view mirror as the big truck disappeared.
<p>
except that it did not disappear. it turned around, taking its time to do so, and then began following joanie and her friends’ truck.
<p>
joanie took a couple of deep breaths, and speeded up a little.
<p>
the big truck seemed to speed up too.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizeqpzWzuXc8N6A0eGrZlRHcmi2vxgAKFYOWUePJn3jB1tpsc3Zk65oe0oBRb9WhbwFrFx8iqvk-iifrPiAU6Flk-61yUp6PMNAHpwgWHj4vQvkrhiB-7e4LM1_eSQDizG8S1B-aDXTN5K/s1600/btdr-27-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizeqpzWzuXc8N6A0eGrZlRHcmi2vxgAKFYOWUePJn3jB1tpsc3Zk65oe0oBRb9WhbwFrFx8iqvk-iifrPiAU6Flk-61yUp6PMNAHpwgWHj4vQvkrhiB-7e4LM1_eSQDizG8S1B-aDXTN5K/s1600/btdr-27-g.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
ruby woke up as soon as joanie touched her arm.
<p>
she seemed wide awake instantly. “what’s up?” she asked joanie. “it’s dark.”
<p>
“we are being followed.” joanie managed to not sound panicked.
<p>
“followed?” rubye looked at the passenger side rear view mirror. “for how long? are you sure they did not just come up behind us?”
<p>
“they were on the other side. they turned around and started following us.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBTmOzfRVbwXmWlC4TWlAd4IlkNLD7tsj1vgDi_aKwirzvD_brdYsijOfNv2qRrODhcGM6T9TslqOxhefvDEDwt3Tzq4_YUqaosVMZ37MZxW-qsQBNtNOrcYLQ1Ti3hvHCzm5zNoxjijy/s1600/btdr-27-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBTmOzfRVbwXmWlC4TWlAd4IlkNLD7tsj1vgDi_aKwirzvD_brdYsijOfNv2qRrODhcGM6T9TslqOxhefvDEDwt3Tzq4_YUqaosVMZ37MZxW-qsQBNtNOrcYLQ1Ti3hvHCzm5zNoxjijy/s1600/btdr-27-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“are you sure it’s the same truck?”
<p>
“they turned around right away.”
<p>
“ahh. i see.” ruby stuck her head out the window and looked back at the pursuer.
<p>
“what should i do?” joanie asked. “where are we? should i try to out run them?”
<p>
“no - here’s what you do. floor it, for about two hundred yards. then pull over and stop,”
<p>
joanie was happy to let ruby do the thinking. she speeded up, and started edging to the side of the road.
<p>
ruby opened the glove compartment and took out a pistol.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikA5d766DkPyaC-MsYw5dkTjUgOXRdwZTsr-fCUVcY9lp6Ya8n_0QZNIuOr0If_d9LRDXw-2oDOsgSMtVWES9Ymd4GGTuERzZHt0P5mA8XR9Q1-ge0e7N3Huib9s9Nj6CvCTiE5JpQrcfh/s1600/btdr-27-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikA5d766DkPyaC-MsYw5dkTjUgOXRdwZTsr-fCUVcY9lp6Ya8n_0QZNIuOr0If_d9LRDXw-2oDOsgSMtVWES9Ymd4GGTuERzZHt0P5mA8XR9Q1-ge0e7N3Huib9s9Nj6CvCTiE5JpQrcfh/s1600/btdr-27-i.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
“stop here.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwu71rQfLxyIzUoWL-sdqDUu_xAX8oRDodA_6jBr6_O12w7uUOsRoh83m0wBiwWMZZe1u4kSgCdeDKF3Y0kT-mzIBcVGbnpMpenfeAM7YUkN4bv4nUBvGuINT3ust8VjAK2QyDn_Zs3-Ba/s1600/btdr-27-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwu71rQfLxyIzUoWL-sdqDUu_xAX8oRDodA_6jBr6_O12w7uUOsRoh83m0wBiwWMZZe1u4kSgCdeDKF3Y0kT-mzIBcVGbnpMpenfeAM7YUkN4bv4nUBvGuINT3ust8VjAK2QyDn_Zs3-Ba/s1600/btdr-27-j.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
joanie pulled over and stopped.
<p>
ruby got out of the cab with the pistol in her hand. she started walking back to the other truck, which had stopped in the middle of the road, about fifty yards behind, still with its lights off.
<p>
big ticket got out of the back of the truck, carrying a shotgun, and followed ruby.
<p>
“what’s going on here?” ruby shouted at the silent gray truck. “what do you clowns want?”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-28-message-for.html"><font color = "red"> 28. a message for renaldo </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-83877104455394807962020-09-24T03:37:00.003-07:002020-09-25T03:59:48.821-07:00bad road to the dead river - 26. barbary coast<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-six </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-25-big-city.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "black" width = 530><tr><td>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LMoRJl1rLPQsQbo8b_8PZkZH54sGAYfjoGCwz2o5K9tGUo-rr7rEsCsyQ_BC8VSo3vu2FwnSDzwWEfvIh9xS3amBxTMFqNEfvyMnHsWf7przW_FQxZhTt3fPESVlZGqUCPXUQuoIhkwc/s1600/btdr-26-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LMoRJl1rLPQsQbo8b_8PZkZH54sGAYfjoGCwz2o5K9tGUo-rr7rEsCsyQ_BC8VSo3vu2FwnSDzwWEfvIh9xS3amBxTMFqNEfvyMnHsWf7przW_FQxZhTt3fPESVlZGqUCPXUQuoIhkwc/s1600/btdr-26-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">“so these friends of yours, who don’t have good looks, what do they have? what do they do?” joanie asked.
<p>
“big ticket is a strong woman - she picks things up - stuff the marks bring, and challenge her to pick them up. and she’ll fight - fight anything , men, women, animals, anything.”
<p>
anything? joanie thought. aloud, she said, “and your other friend?”
<p>
“that’s judy - flabby judy. she’s a fat lady. really fat.”
<p>
“yes, but what does she do?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7vUnv_D9qLe2giwXJ0GyH1pbasg2qjU6tXwFjeazU7pg20Ne2Vc-8cRMKisH6t967CPDc-lIxxxL-N0C5vblijD0ePozPLGzdDKoMPJwLSZhyphenhyphenOJYoOEp7zuP8vRrQA1cAth9rmOVkOKkq/s1600/btdr-26-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7vUnv_D9qLe2giwXJ0GyH1pbasg2qjU6tXwFjeazU7pg20Ne2Vc-8cRMKisH6t967CPDc-lIxxxL-N0C5vblijD0ePozPLGzdDKoMPJwLSZhyphenhyphenOJYoOEp7zuP8vRrQA1cAth9rmOVkOKkq/s1600/btdr-26-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i told you, she’s a fat lady. people pay to look at her.”
<p>
“why?” joanie persisted.
<p>
“because she’s so fat.”
<p>
“they <i>pay</i> to look at her just because she’s so <i>fat</i>?” joanie had a vague memory of reading about such things in the history books she had read in the library back in the heartland, but she never thought they would still exist in <i>the thirty-third century.</i>
<p>
“that doesn’t sound very edifying,” joanie told ruby.
<p>
“it’s not an edifying world. especially in the big city, or on the barbary coast.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLuk2QRgQhwklDkywCGGpSmDNjmtgyy3JZY5GVqhMwLkgIogzdFasyuKCGPzvXabd-4ZTwJEebA6brNBJnjP80t1YLFUQPXmDgpsbTJ-cLbc8Oe6rp59dqTmd7y8yQdLNRoKBFH9oO2cB/s1600/btdr-26-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLuk2QRgQhwklDkywCGGpSmDNjmtgyy3JZY5GVqhMwLkgIogzdFasyuKCGPzvXabd-4ZTwJEebA6brNBJnjP80t1YLFUQPXmDgpsbTJ-cLbc8Oe6rp59dqTmd7y8yQdLNRoKBFH9oO2cB/s1600/btdr-26-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
joanie did not know what to say to that. she took another sip of her cold tea, and asked. “so tell me again what you want from me?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0rHscOtV28PDMM_yFetpcwon3VurMLCMbUXGH96LKLAD0sSHiQralpdZZWiOdk2FDgFxJKjuizZbyZGdRdxzWiiI0QmP0H-qgz0PdFwceJ-ZC5fHpGzV9usxBrKDjP_gSmlxpMSX-qzG/s1600/btdr-26-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0rHscOtV28PDMM_yFetpcwon3VurMLCMbUXGH96LKLAD0sSHiQralpdZZWiOdk2FDgFxJKjuizZbyZGdRdxzWiiI0QmP0H-qgz0PdFwceJ-ZC5fHpGzV9usxBrKDjP_gSmlxpMSX-qzG/s1600/btdr-26-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“see, when we get to the city - if we make it to the city - we have to deal mostly with agents, and even if we run into a working crew on the road we have to deal with some kind of boss. now what they are always looking for is good looking young ladies such as yourself. they will at least look at you and hear you out, and when they do, you can tell them you have some pals - like me and ticket and judy - and maybe they could look at us too. that’s all.”
<p>
“would that work?” joanie asked.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bH5uaX41-X8WA-6KSldg5Vc-Sjc4dty36cYnlPCB0cxxVNmqFza98BW-iCSQ8V500NwEjZDDeFXEaC-32aPkS4VnN-8yAi0NsbpDdxTygVXX58KDcEw89P41V1AGfMpgnZyFpxvTFo2O/s1600/btdr-26-e-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bH5uaX41-X8WA-6KSldg5Vc-Sjc4dty36cYnlPCB0cxxVNmqFza98BW-iCSQ8V500NwEjZDDeFXEaC-32aPkS4VnN-8yAi0NsbpDdxTygVXX58KDcEw89P41V1AGfMpgnZyFpxvTFo2O/s1600/btdr-26-e-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“it’s worth a try. of course” - ruby looked straight at joanie - ““we would just be trusting you to speak up for us. the world is filled with schmucks and backstabbers and judas iscariots who would ride with us and then let us down when we got to the city. but i don’t think that’s you. just looking at you, i don’t think you are that kind of person at all. you wouldn’t let a pal down, would you?’”
<p>
“i don’t think so.”
<p>
“i know you wouldn’t. say - can you drive a truck? an old-fashioned truck that you have to drive?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-woELdiZoEL7s9nyd_ACs74Rqr4nAOXSiV9-GIYbX873673bbXch7z75EZRgj4J7dGJX29cSwUaXx4btz0856iWSGoMmP7wstTL_47kqbszxLEI2BG68iJS546z0MQjZ1XDVHexnJjVo3/s1600/btdr-26-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-woELdiZoEL7s9nyd_ACs74Rqr4nAOXSiV9-GIYbX873673bbXch7z75EZRgj4J7dGJX29cSwUaXx4btz0856iWSGoMmP7wstTL_47kqbszxLEI2BG68iJS546z0MQjZ1XDVHexnJjVo3/s1600/btdr-26-f.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
slightly bewildered by the change of subject, joanie said, “yes, i can drive a truck. i’m from the heartland, almost everybody in the heartland can drive a truck.”
<p>
“that’s good,” ruby said. “better and better.” she finished off her coffee and stood up. “well, kid, think about what i said, and i will probably see you around. how much longer did you say you could stay here?”
<p>
“about two weeks.”
<p>
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<br>
“then i will see you again for sure.” and ruby left joanie with her thoughts.
<p>
that was all kind of interesting, joanie mused . but scarier the more she thought about it - especially ruby’s casual “if we get to the city”. and all that about the agent’s liking her “good looks”. what was she supposed to do with her “good looks”? just get looked at?
<p>
joanie was innocent, but she was not that innocent.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-27-bad-road.html"><font color = "red"> 27. bsd road </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-49098672027325698172020-09-23T03:43:00.009-07:002020-09-24T03:35:12.899-07:00bad road to the dead river - 25. the big city<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-five </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-24-joanie.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<p>
<font color = "navy">“all right, i think i get it,” ruby said, after two minutes of joanie’s attempt at explaining what a theoretical sociologist was.
<p>
“you do?’ joanie smiled. “that’s great. not too many people think it is that interesting, but i do.”
<p>
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<br>
“what i get,” said ruby, “is that there is nothing i can help you out with with that stuff.”
<p>
“oh.”
<p>
“but i have something else i think i can help you out with.”
<p>
“and what’s that?” joanie asked. she was a little disappointed, but not really surprised, that ruby was not really interested in sociology. “some kind of job?’
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lW_BujImkX-1CIBm1_5QXIoZiehOapbp93IzcvbBGPTWqH3C3s7ty1vTDIqpTU94Iq8kyFLb7vEQ2PKJEnIGNYIvk_X8G2OImyp0Nwb05VT67uabUxEgHJPjXwm3MWXfIgdkqLqkJKLe/s1600/btdr-25-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lW_BujImkX-1CIBm1_5QXIoZiehOapbp93IzcvbBGPTWqH3C3s7ty1vTDIqpTU94Iq8kyFLb7vEQ2PKJEnIGNYIvk_X8G2OImyp0Nwb05VT67uabUxEgHJPjXwm3MWXfIgdkqLqkJKLe/s1600/btdr-25-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“a way to maybe make some money,” ruby said.
<p>
“like what? trying to sell something? i don’t think i would be very good at that.”
<p>
ruby looked around. there was no one else in the cafeteria except the woman behind the small display case, who was leaning on the counter behind her and looked like she was falling asleep.
<p>
ruby lowered her voice. “ have you ever thought of trying your luck in the big city?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO7BfB9gYQQ_AiXorH5bl6QNZw2ecQ8Mc6BxvgZs822GBQe3Z2kPqnNjpkQcfOl4i8zF5VIDygCxIpcEOzzk7G3OmOcRE_0djNrlx0NeaPXR-BCqVf9k8bX_6LZTboLmtr37tOVU3B2a-u/s1600/btdr-25-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO7BfB9gYQQ_AiXorH5bl6QNZw2ecQ8Mc6BxvgZs822GBQe3Z2kPqnNjpkQcfOl4i8zF5VIDygCxIpcEOzzk7G3OmOcRE_0djNrlx0NeaPXR-BCqVf9k8bX_6LZTboLmtr37tOVU3B2a-u/s1600/btdr-25-d.gif" data-original-width="200" data-original-height="400" /></a></div>
<br>
the big city! the “big city” was about four hundred miles north of the imperial city. it had, supposedly, at one time been the largest city not only in the empire but in the world. but it fallen on hard times, mostly as a result of gradually sinking into the atlantic ocean. now it was fabled as a lawless “wide open” town, the background of endless tv shows and trashy novels.
<p>
and it could only be reached by traveling through the even more notorious “barbary coast” or “hell’s highway”, a place where, at least on tv, the sun never shone except to reveal, at dawn, the dead bodies and other detritus of the fearful night.
<p>
“well?” ruby asked, when joanie did not answer right away.
<p>
“um - it might give me some interesting material for a study, i suppose, “ joanie said. “but i don’t suppose that is what you have in mind.”
<p>
ruby laughed. “i see you have a sense of humor, kid. no, what i have in mind is this - me and a couple of pals want to go to the big city to see if we can hook up with a carnival.”
<p>
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<br>
“a carnival?’
<p>
“yeah, one that would work the barbary coast maybe, or maybe up north, in the bad lands. carnivals and traveling shows are big up there, where they don’t get such great tv reception.”
<p>
this sounded even scarier to joanie, but after all it was just talk, they were sitting safely in the young ladies hostel in the imperial city, so she just asked. “where would i fit in? i don’t know anything about carnivals, i am not even sure what they do.”
<p>
“no, honey, you have the one thing the carnies are always looking for and can’t get enough of.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic7LqjWW7AJAv3_1dlom0PmLK51g2ttk9pZrPwAwmSi9DKUHEXnioDU_vPXGBMxFawwd7tbe7EJciudE0qQt7YzyIoT72lPjV9wS5j_rLtx8sxpG21Q0hscEeSHVYbFH-9kJNTn4-HZMKZ/s1600/btdr-25-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic7LqjWW7AJAv3_1dlom0PmLK51g2ttk9pZrPwAwmSi9DKUHEXnioDU_vPXGBMxFawwd7tbe7EJciudE0qQt7YzyIoT72lPjV9wS5j_rLtx8sxpG21Q0hscEeSHVYbFH-9kJNTn4-HZMKZ/s1600/btdr-25-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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joanie thought she knew where ruby was going, but asked, “and what might that be?”
<p>
“looks, kid, you got the good looks.” and, ruby did not add, the innocent good looks - the stuff dreams are made of.
<p>
joanie took a sip of her tea, which was almost cold. “these pals of yours,” she said, just to be saying something. “what do they do? do they have good looks?”
<p>
“ha, ha! they have looks all right, but not exactly good looks.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfNlfhKQNOAQCusikfJLGDZ_XqeMq4fI48w9BAHTeXYtcIPJdHuxoIpNyQ-io6yDt72-tRZHYVIa8dekFs4uOTr7fq6E6WmIyW4WpvbrzPKnyqzr9JdAppGLqy3OqZrydUF3vc9DmeCUVx/s1600/btdr-25-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfNlfhKQNOAQCusikfJLGDZ_XqeMq4fI48w9BAHTeXYtcIPJdHuxoIpNyQ-io6yDt72-tRZHYVIa8dekFs4uOTr7fq6E6WmIyW4WpvbrzPKnyqzr9JdAppGLqy3OqZrydUF3vc9DmeCUVx/s1600/btdr-25-g.gif" data-original-width="320" data-original-height="320" /></a></div>
<br>
“wait! are they - are they men or women?”
<p>
“oh, they are women all right, don’t worry about that.” ruby glanced over at the woman behind the display case, who looked sleepier than ever.
<p>
joanie felt relieved. not that she was really interested in ruby’s proposal anyway, but the idea of traveling up the barbary coast with a couple of men - or even one man - that would have been totally beyond thinking about.</font>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-26-barbary-coast.html"><font color = "red"> 26. barbary coast </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-80799658186722651952020-09-22T04:29:00.003-07:002020-09-23T03:48:27.568-07:00bad road to the dead river - 24. joanie<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-four </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-23-slip.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIy6mUC6W0wBnP7OUoR7mB_SzWwZpIdvOS9aso0tlKmvD_wpuSbVfSX9e2eTrovbQgDg85uizjKYn0J7cxggM6T2M1r_LJDY12gfBWRL9GTkwER95DOMzyZNp3zVQa4T4TNjMZo1FkOXJ/s1600/btdr-24-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIy6mUC6W0wBnP7OUoR7mB_SzWwZpIdvOS9aso0tlKmvD_wpuSbVfSX9e2eTrovbQgDg85uizjKYn0J7cxggM6T2M1r_LJDY12gfBWRL9GTkwER95DOMzyZNp3zVQa4T4TNjMZo1FkOXJ/s1600/btdr-24-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">joanie smith had been the prettiest girl and most popular person in her high school class, class president, and was voted person most likely to succeed.
<p>
the class had not been that large - only thirteen students, nine girls and four boys - and the town itself - morrisvillle in the west central district of the american heartland - was not that large. but even so, joanie was disappointed that she did not find better success when she made her way to the imperial capital after graduation.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFiU5bLMjMlpKe_Het73eu4p3k5pEU9G4VmFgKfzmsGDIfx4efzfQtPTxIT20oXPCnmTLp_8ZtigLAhXbH6TgQRp6uLVe0ZvENkCh9Zec8A1Wk3mXWNZwdYR0NOZ3Mk91Ci332k344ZFt/s1600/btdr-24-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFiU5bLMjMlpKe_Het73eu4p3k5pEU9G4VmFgKfzmsGDIfx4efzfQtPTxIT20oXPCnmTLp_8ZtigLAhXbH6TgQRp6uLVe0ZvENkCh9Zec8A1Wk3mXWNZwdYR0NOZ3Mk91Ci332k344ZFt/s1600/btdr-24-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
after taking a room at the imperial young ladies hostel, joanie decided to seek a job as a waitress in one of the large restaurants in the city. she had waitressed for six years when still in school in morrisville, so she thought it would be a stress free job that would support her while she pursued her real avocation as a theoretical sociologist and wrote her first book, which would make her famous.
<p>
joanie was shocked to find that there was intense competition for even such jobs as waitressing. on her first day in the city she went to a employment agency and was told to leave her name and phone number and a resume and they might call her back in three weeks at the earliest.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-g0b2AOLUS243t98WdILY6eNHEy_i68SxQgnrqoxFIjfVto2XwXU3P__-nnnNeXduFd7oAi5tq2o3EZVBIJZBXVDRWLLDdgF2PduZL4gnGHqjr-CNqvCeVF1QgUQf4sACBsJX_YWuPeKm/s1600/btdr-24-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-g0b2AOLUS243t98WdILY6eNHEy_i68SxQgnrqoxFIjfVto2XwXU3P__-nnnNeXduFd7oAi5tq2o3EZVBIJZBXVDRWLLDdgF2PduZL4gnGHqjr-CNqvCeVF1QgUQf4sACBsJX_YWuPeKm/s1600/btdr-24-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
after some hesitation she complied with this outrageous request, quickly tapping out the “resume” on her phone.
<p>
she did not apply to another agencies. she decided to bypass the agency and go directly to restaurants and apply directly for jobs.
<p>
but she dd not have much success. most of the restaurants told her they only hired through agencies and in some places the person she talked was nice enough to give her the name of the agency they used.
<p>
the smaller places often told her they were family owned and did not hire non-family members. for some reason joanie found this particularly discouraging.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZxCb_rRE46qLsJeAKMC0asoxFEAQ7KHNqlyPjpLdG95EWuVxmWAJIzBqPJPZII2qrHB7qw1pd3mB-b_QvJuJkBwL0p3XNPO7P3hyphenhyphen1Rw0LA-ICk26xBlUu2Hb_iMRsWu_qNrlrtWfUoO-/s1600/btdr-24-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZxCb_rRE46qLsJeAKMC0asoxFEAQ7KHNqlyPjpLdG95EWuVxmWAJIzBqPJPZII2qrHB7qw1pd3mB-b_QvJuJkBwL0p3XNPO7P3hyphenhyphen1Rw0LA-ICk26xBlUu2Hb_iMRsWu_qNrlrtWfUoO-/s1600/btdr-24-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
joanie began to feel downhearted. per imperial edict, she could only stay in the young ladies hostel for twenty-eight days, and she had already used up half of them.. she began to wonder if she could make it in the imperial city, and if she would ever fulfill her dream of becoming a world famous sociologist.
<p>
the ladies hostel had a small old fashioned lobby with big padded chairs and potted plants, and a small cafeteria which sold coffee, tea, and pastries and was open all night. most of the inhabitants of the establishment spent their time in their rooms with their phones and tvs, but a few spent time in the lobby or cafeteria and after her first week joanie began joining them.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8tX2tnQ3cqwSzXSdP0qeIoN9QYA3loOTZ5PlFUDTuOUUmWqqqPCg1oJYCXKbo9NK6uvQRsstAiftu6_7IXTPb0IPwhTTEJnxh4fQOUuwQWZoy-F7sOXjb7cuP04aSGEiWeYuvH7TceSAz/s1600/btdr-24-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8tX2tnQ3cqwSzXSdP0qeIoN9QYA3loOTZ5PlFUDTuOUUmWqqqPCg1oJYCXKbo9NK6uvQRsstAiftu6_7IXTPb0IPwhTTEJnxh4fQOUuwQWZoy-F7sOXjb7cuP04aSGEiWeYuvH7TceSAz/s1600/btdr-24-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
after a particularly discouraging day, joanie was sitting in the cafeteria sipping a cup of oolong tea, and not nibbllng on a raspberry tart she had decided not to spend money on, when she was joined by a young woman she had not seen before. not seen, and not just not noticed. because she would have noticed her.
<p>
“hello, the young woman said. “my name is ruby.”
<p>
“hi, i’m joanie.”
<p>
it was understood that if you sat in the lobby or the cafeteria that you were open to such direct approach. it was what the lobby and cafeteria were there for. even groups of two or more might be interrupted by strangers introducing themselves.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDRxyRxWG-1gXsxbZS4_eslK-y4UGdoPSQaKHrAHhGP72-4e4XsBGPnEFpF2cWvSIF5foeZosphHTuYZiCWUM5XJUudDQbH30WRegNfJRuhzxpnLP6ZM1g2lnpyVMKZR-b_KYkhuYvHmE/s1600/btdr-24-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDRxyRxWG-1gXsxbZS4_eslK-y4UGdoPSQaKHrAHhGP72-4e4XsBGPnEFpF2cWvSIF5foeZosphHTuYZiCWUM5XJUudDQbH30WRegNfJRuhzxpnLP6ZM1g2lnpyVMKZR-b_KYkhuYvHmE/s1600/btdr-24-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
ruby was covered from head to foot, including her face, with tattoos. her shirt and pants also had tattoo-looking pictures on them, so it took joanie a couple of seconds to realize that she was in fact wearing clothes and was not naked.
<p>
“i haven’t seen you before, “ ruby said. “just get here?”
<p>
’no, i’ve been here for almost two weeks,” joanie said. “but, um, most nights i’ve been too tired to do anything but go up to my room and sleep. looking for a job, you know?”
<p>
“a good looking girl like you? you should find work easy. “
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDR1y2pkRmrpHxmBibF3KgYQ_45RxoeysaZzr-W61MNk7zVLtC6sax88V0CckLCaKWIqfKGyuYEMG5Zn9xBBjVdN-nko5sFlebNo60bkoVxGlMPXgmlMzZB3rmjWnYyG8sfKaTXqhRj31X/s1600/btdr-24-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDR1y2pkRmrpHxmBibF3KgYQ_45RxoeysaZzr-W61MNk7zVLtC6sax88V0CckLCaKWIqfKGyuYEMG5Zn9xBBjVdN-nko5sFlebNo60bkoVxGlMPXgmlMzZB3rmjWnYyG8sfKaTXqhRj31X/s1600/btdr-24-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
joanie sighed. “well, i haven’t, i don’t know what to tell you.”
<p>
ruby took a sip of the coffee she had brought with her. “what are looking to do? actress? model? can you sing or dance?”
<p>
“no, i was just looking for a job as a waitress.”
<p>
“ a waitress! honey, that’s stupid. every slob and nonentity wants to be a waitress - it’s what you do if you can’t be anything else.”
<p>
joanie blushed slightly. “i thought i could waitress to support myself while i followed… while i did what i want to do.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrexGdMc4RD0ohdhusfKlOnWo8mXc92VPFQsxBfcSK_628hPaoR7MVosU4prwcP5RQq47N1js19JYwIMcQneAKYJSsPymxgy6cHPtiLMeMYJFG-h5KZgz6YNcPFFe0ZdzC1F4BZjDeNJmh/s1600/btdr-24-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrexGdMc4RD0ohdhusfKlOnWo8mXc92VPFQsxBfcSK_628hPaoR7MVosU4prwcP5RQq47N1js19JYwIMcQneAKYJSsPymxgy6cHPtiLMeMYJFG-h5KZgz6YNcPFFe0ZdzC1F4BZjDeNJmh/s1600/btdr-24-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes, that’s what they all think. if they lived in the woods with the bears. you come from a small town, honey?”
<p>
“yes, i do. pretty small.” she gave ruby a very brief description of morrisville.
<p>
ruby shook her head. “whatever. but like i started to say, it doesn’t work that way. starting out slow, taking your time. whatever you want to do, you have to just go for it. go for the jugular,”
<p>
“you are probably right,” joanie agreed.
<p>
“but what was it that you wanted to do? you still haven’t said.”
<p>
“i want to be a theoretical sociologist.”
<p>
“a <i>what</i>?”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-25-big-city.html"><font color = "red"> 25. the big city </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-50573308473213346942020-09-21T01:26:00.003-07:002020-09-22T04:32:09.065-07:00bad road to the dead river - 23. the slip<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-three </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-22-phone.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "orange" width = 530><tr><td>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIc_vReWnTG-4cdB4d8sIZuEF2L-DDKjxHqTsHi3o3Zw4Rz9qm106dBcYiaJ-K4q39CW9AGxyxNc6rVrwdAZjQ26dY2ep0Gav7ZHblJklMhyfSKi1m89C-TMOR8t47tp0Qx45vnUvavfGx/s1600/btdr-23-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIc_vReWnTG-4cdB4d8sIZuEF2L-DDKjxHqTsHi3o3Zw4Rz9qm106dBcYiaJ-K4q39CW9AGxyxNc6rVrwdAZjQ26dY2ep0Gav7ZHblJklMhyfSKi1m89C-TMOR8t47tp0Qx45vnUvavfGx/s1600/btdr-23-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">watching the kid was a lot tougher than pablo had expected it to be.
<p>
he felt like everybody knew what he was doing. how was he supposed to watch the kid without anybody noticing? he couldn’t look directly at him - for what, eight hours? - without somebody noticing, could he? but if he took his eye off him, for one second, how did pab;lo know he would not disappear.
<p>
pablo had followed people before. he was an old hand, though not particularly good at it. he figured that was why mister brown had hired him.
<p>
but he had never done anything like this before. first off, following a little kid gave him the creeps. second, the kid hardly moved. and third, and worst of all, pablo really had no idea who or what mister brown was. at least with the toughest, meanest guys you sort of knew where you stood.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipecWqBM-Gekt1g0GA6rC20q0pKxFPcDzMaRU6vPR44Xln7MsH8K-mJ4tjmhtgvtMJj3cFqg9paQPYbeR9auaUF-_7ScAmG2MBPTMEcJQqq68sdQ4Uppfv-7dUXC6JoaU3Xw5FBDsQA-q7/s1600/btrb-23-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipecWqBM-Gekt1g0GA6rC20q0pKxFPcDzMaRU6vPR44Xln7MsH8K-mJ4tjmhtgvtMJj3cFqg9paQPYbeR9auaUF-_7ScAmG2MBPTMEcJQqq68sdQ4Uppfv-7dUXC6JoaU3Xw5FBDsQA-q7/s1600/btrb-23-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
he had only been “on the job” for a couple of hours and it felt like twenty-two. he decided to finish the cup of coffee in front of him, take a whiz - surely the kid wouldn’t disappear while he did that - and then take a little walk around the block, before coming back and finding a new spot.
<p>
a new spot where his two thousand dollar coffee card wouldn’t be good, but he didn’t care. that was another thing - the more he thought about it, he decided mister brown must be a complete idiot, a) for calling attention to him and b) for tying him down to one spot.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RivhSe5oTkz_pnJ0U1Sz0I67fOF910EWxD-cPLtooyM8GNDXq-2BNiMb1rFpiBoS4LkgoC_b0ozqSCJ_isPdLtgcOdCuStrW79_h-s80GU7mp6ezA6tZise6du3IkfuIednr0rb1h8Lu/s1600/btdr-23-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RivhSe5oTkz_pnJ0U1Sz0I67fOF910EWxD-cPLtooyM8GNDXq-2BNiMb1rFpiBoS4LkgoC_b0ozqSCJ_isPdLtgcOdCuStrW79_h-s80GU7mp6ezA6tZise6du3IkfuIednr0rb1h8Lu/s1600/btdr-23-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
it was almost as if he, pablo, was being set up. but he wasn’t worth anybody’s time to get set up! if there was one thing pablo was sure of, it was that.
<p>
then again, if mister brown would pay two thousand dollars for the card, maybe that meant he had so much money two thousand was like two cents to him…
<p>
pablo made up his mind to get up as soon as the last few drops in his cup were gone…
<p>
a long black limousine pulled up to the curb in front of the kid, obscuring pablo’s view of him. nothing special there. there were a lot of limos on the street as they were only a few blocks away from the imperial compound, and several had already stopped and bought the kid’s [aper.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GxKxVliBG4bKdAH2h9i9OOrw52uAGJH3_4aavxJEOZO6fbphhntSSkXashKc1_uASUsEjxwggANM8WYtiKqkokntBhZdj3bV9rDon-p9Gxt5W_sSAZkZz0JTxn5pxLJnR3_iMslMLXlB/s1600/btdr-23-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GxKxVliBG4bKdAH2h9i9OOrw52uAGJH3_4aavxJEOZO6fbphhntSSkXashKc1_uASUsEjxwggANM8WYtiKqkokntBhZdj3bV9rDon-p9Gxt5W_sSAZkZz0JTxn5pxLJnR3_iMslMLXlB/s1600/btdr-23-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
but this one was taking a long time. finally it pulled away.
<p>
and the kid was gone! and his papers, and his tarp, and his rock were all gone!
<p>
he must have gotten in the limo!
<p>
after his first shock, pablo was almost relieved. maybe this was the end of the job, and good riddance.
<p>
mister brown had told him what to do. not looking like he was in any hurry, pablo took out his phone and texted the number he had been given. he had also been given some simple code words.
<p>
<center><b>manny just quit his job.</b></center>
<p>
the message came right back:
<p>
<center><b>wait until four. jerry might call.</b></center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVtUpT6QxojxdXSX8Cu3vRwwS-USCGRNLApMD7UlmK5umOCqgjbUx-h0bVn89NAlA39Lpxkit7rideuBJOyZ1UmgMQ9w0OkzKv2gh2TJIpNj-gCtmMvT_dk_MTXx2hx4-5wYqjNTlQxcz/s1600/btdr-23-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVtUpT6QxojxdXSX8Cu3vRwwS-USCGRNLApMD7UlmK5umOCqgjbUx-h0bVn89NAlA39Lpxkit7rideuBJOyZ1UmgMQ9w0OkzKv2gh2TJIpNj-gCtmMvT_dk_MTXx2hx4-5wYqjNTlQxcz/s1600/btdr-23-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
that meant he should wait - maybe until four - six more hours! - until somebody from mister brown came along , to relieve him, take him somewhere for a new job, or give him new instructions,
<p>
he decided to take the whiz and that he deserved a walk around the block - just a quick one.
<p>
a young woman came into the coffee shop just as pablo was getting up from the counter. he thought she looked familiar. </font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-24-joanie.html"><font color = "red"> 24. joanie </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-44242957211696939172020-09-20T04:43:00.011-07:002020-09-21T01:30:42.103-07:00bad road to the dead river - 22. the phone<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-two </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-21-must-be.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "black" width = 530><tr><td>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOxkZvOaFYe9Rh6j3jlG_IoG2pshfisP5ssVUKfmIt6L7XKUGsJLY3Q-w0Rn2N3dU5BmIQ6FyUja_Ljv2c1C0MlqJUjmU1EWNUg8hmaOPqmTMgTmQ8KFlGJzkOGvd5-5I3J7I7kH98f7-/s1600/btdr-22-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOxkZvOaFYe9Rh6j3jlG_IoG2pshfisP5ssVUKfmIt6L7XKUGsJLY3Q-w0Rn2N3dU5BmIQ6FyUja_Ljv2c1C0MlqJUjmU1EWNUg8hmaOPqmTMgTmQ8KFlGJzkOGvd5-5I3J7I7kH98f7-/s1600/btdr-22-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">the lawyer, anne greenleaf, and her client, rutherford b hayes, returned to the interrogation room much sooner than taft had anticipated.
<p>
“so soon?” he asked pleasantly.
<p>
“yes,” greenleaf said. “i think we might be able to clear this up pretty quickly.”
<p>
“how so?” taft asked.
<p>
“just how sure is this - officer -“ she nodded towards grundy - “that mr hayes here is the man he encountered previously and acted in what the officer regarded as a suspicious manner?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtTLrdFpY8Sg_CADGkTRZqmOKit0qsLUbA1ANTUti14u9rMUcShPGFnHMfgCf468ScDwqMvrZJMMlcQ3dkq-J8hM3XOv-K_UsTwjIcBvLSgVxpmqZs4iWoeVns26qWz_Bqir7DKshXWKn/s1600/btdr-22-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtTLrdFpY8Sg_CADGkTRZqmOKit0qsLUbA1ANTUti14u9rMUcShPGFnHMfgCf468ScDwqMvrZJMMlcQ3dkq-J8hM3XOv-K_UsTwjIcBvLSgVxpmqZs4iWoeVns26qWz_Bqir7DKshXWKn/s1600/btdr-22-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i am not at all sure,” grundy answered, before taft could get a word in. “in fact, the more i think about it, the more i think he wasn’t the guy i saw at all.”
<p>
“well, then, i guess there s nothing more to say, is there? i think we can all go home now, or go about our business, can’t we?”
<p>
taft knew when he was beaten. he managed not to look at grundy, whom he felt like beating with a stick.
<p>
“well then,” greenleaf said, “imy client and i bid you a good evening.”
<p>
“there is just one thing,” taft said.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4m934FM1UhRU9A4oiKGpzhVwWoswXJwZgpxWxUxUd2-IUe95YB5NEyIWC2zmr8o-j_nSxv9k7sUbIblGcTyKSFqmtCq8kt7rIhUeKnjlDWLNHqWbRw7evY_zqSV1UAm9TIK38Br4Ps25e/s1600/btdr-22-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4m934FM1UhRU9A4oiKGpzhVwWoswXJwZgpxWxUxUd2-IUe95YB5NEyIWC2zmr8o-j_nSxv9k7sUbIblGcTyKSFqmtCq8kt7rIhUeKnjlDWLNHqWbRw7evY_zqSV1UAm9TIK38Br4Ps25e/s1600/btdr-22-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“and what is that?”
<p>
taft addressed rutherford b hayes. “don’t you want your phone back?”
<p>
“um - oh yeah, sure.”
<p>
greenleaf stared at taft. “well - why don’t you just give it back to him?”
<p>
“i was not sure how cooperative mr hayes was going to be, or ” - taft glanced at grundy - “how easily the situation would be resolved. so i sent his phone to be copied. which i have the authority to do, under regulation -“
<p>
“whatever,” greenleaf interrupted him. “do you want to wait around for it?” she asked rutherford b hayes.
<p>
“um - i am not sure;”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6dQBk52hby0GMTxYI2zZnphndtV4v8lx5OgXwSkSdugS_6jy7JBXD1DtdZCc3rIgksyVVBJS48nEifzbzLwXd6dc3FZcdoTu8qPrmMsm7MlwuccyLPvPE17IJoQqIrjQoFAz-L9N1XN1S/s1600/btdr-22-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6dQBk52hby0GMTxYI2zZnphndtV4v8lx5OgXwSkSdugS_6jy7JBXD1DtdZCc3rIgksyVVBJS48nEifzbzLwXd6dc3FZcdoTu8qPrmMsm7MlwuccyLPvPE17IJoQqIrjQoFAz-L9N1XN1S/s1600/btdr-22-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“we can have it sent to you ,” taft said. “if you don’t want to wait.”
<p>
“uh - that might be best, ” rutherford b hayes said.
<p>
“what is your address?”
<p>
“send it to me,” greenleaf said. “to the legal assistance office, to my attention - anne greenleaf.”
<p>
taft was astonished, and showed it. “are you sure?”
<p>
“positive.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCtBGmFtkNclkKyhd-p8-iS_k8e1mb7D6H1z58TUnmmamdwkIDHnaW7yztDXQWpbOrG5sjgOnK2xfHi2xvkUgLS79VOAtJNDBb1h1RUqhkudrN0qUMjNR7g_nJNXjf-K9-LuEZxhq0AB3/s1600/btdr-22-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCtBGmFtkNclkKyhd-p8-iS_k8e1mb7D6H1z58TUnmmamdwkIDHnaW7yztDXQWpbOrG5sjgOnK2xfHi2xvkUgLS79VOAtJNDBb1h1RUqhkudrN0qUMjNR7g_nJNXjf-K9-LuEZxhq0AB3/s1600/btdr-22-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
when greenleaf and rutherford b hayes were gone and the door closed behind them, taft turned to grundy.
<p>
“grundy, what have you done?”
<p>
“i don’t know - you tell me.”
<p>
“how weird was that - having the phone sent to her?”
<p>
“who knows?” grundy seemed amused by the whole thing. “maybe they are old pals. maybe they fell in love in room 24 and can’t wait to find a motel and get serious. i don’t care. do you?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCeOcuBWumGlAASWw86hMh5ixf28Dt99jj4BJ4TQM5oUpirCmB9EWgaUAoMD2tQ3VtoZuyc8-u_iCyr7D1Et9NaR-iQU69c59yxqJbebaDPTBeOGPz1sp_RPMuf6R0dN0xVZZkcd72WqCt/s1600/btdr-22-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCeOcuBWumGlAASWw86hMh5ixf28Dt99jj4BJ4TQM5oUpirCmB9EWgaUAoMD2tQ3VtoZuyc8-u_iCyr7D1Et9NaR-iQU69c59yxqJbebaDPTBeOGPz1sp_RPMuf6R0dN0xVZZkcd72WqCt/s1600/btdr-22-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“but - the whole thing is crazy. crazy from start to finish. and we let him slip through our fingers. the captain isn’t going to like it when i make my report. he will want answers from both of us.”
<p>
grundy stood up. “we can sort it out with the captain tomorrow. right now, my mom is probably worrying about me. good night, lieutenant.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
a few minutes after grundy left, a tech returned with rutherford b hayes’s phone.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_x43-uR39FHhhFQtGJUkAa2meyAdg4XlFRuimfv1fAi8Qjv7p7Opzt_nUVdDaNkGgMNL6UC9vhwmaGw9pMv-a38obA4RKJzr4dVzVHe5o2zt_yfX3MJKgUnZxMRXMM7XPSFgI8alj1gpF/s1600/btdr-22-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_x43-uR39FHhhFQtGJUkAa2meyAdg4XlFRuimfv1fAi8Qjv7p7Opzt_nUVdDaNkGgMNL6UC9vhwmaGw9pMv-a38obA4RKJzr4dVzVHe5o2zt_yfX3MJKgUnZxMRXMM7XPSFgI8alj1gpF/s1600/btdr-22-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
“that was easy,” she told taft.
<p>
“what was easy about it?”
<p>
“there was nothing on it. no stored data, not a single phone number stored, no texts or e-mails.”
<p>
“like it was brand new? was it registered?”
<p>
“it was registered to mr kenneth kangaroo, of carlsbad new mexico. but no mr kangaroo is listed as living in carlsbad new mexico at this point in time.” the tech laughed. “we could try to trace him. do you want us to?”
<p>
“let me think about it,” taft said. “leave the phone with me.”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-23-slip.html"><font color = "red"> 23. the slip </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-80043075580023050232020-09-19T04:38:00.008-07:002020-09-20T04:51:43.714-07:00bad road to the dead river - 21. must be awkward<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty-one </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-20-lawyer.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "tan" width = 530><tr><td>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__UG-hf_rJvKv5G4CW0aW8M_wdH09N86Wv_zSqFhOkS2drhGGS4y0JD4YgaLhFD-u4s-W5iA67xV9ycfKJIycRJditstx6Ut1ZcbqwHjW9JNuTlqIIp26Apg_LkeeskVxo2qALxplhl0u/s1600/btdr-21-+a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__UG-hf_rJvKv5G4CW0aW8M_wdH09N86Wv_zSqFhOkS2drhGGS4y0JD4YgaLhFD-u4s-W5iA67xV9ycfKJIycRJditstx6Ut1ZcbqwHjW9JNuTlqIIp26Apg_LkeeskVxo2qALxplhl0u/s1600/btdr-21-+a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">when he returned to the interrogation room and was introduced to his lawyer, the man calling himself rutherford b hayes requested to consult with the lawyer in a private room.
<p>
taft had no choice but to agree.
<p>
“it’s not getting any earlier here,” grundy told taft, when the lawyer and the man had left. “can i go home?”
<p>
taft hesitated. “no, the lawyer might want to ask you about your identification. you better stay.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx3VNVzuAWHWrnSB_t3KSFv4GEvhTd_WENPIu5XxyITaiaPLPltr2DJsWDF1MnqHSLegaLfhCZB4L2-nhVkIyGdWPImphr7frIyn6PYtBpoNa94FpeqhOSZCAzOIyy25yzopBu1si8eMke/s1600/btdr-21-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx3VNVzuAWHWrnSB_t3KSFv4GEvhTd_WENPIu5XxyITaiaPLPltr2DJsWDF1MnqHSLegaLfhCZB4L2-nhVkIyGdWPImphr7frIyn6PYtBpoNa94FpeqhOSZCAzOIyy25yzopBu1si8eMke/s1600/btdr-21-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“but i already told you, i am not sure about him.”
<p>
“tell her whatever you want. it might just drag things out if she wants to talk to you.”
<p>
“can she ask him anything?” corelli put in. “this is not a courtroom.”
<p>
“i don’t really know,” taft admitted. “but i just want to move things along. the captain won’t like it if we get bogged down in a lot of back and fort.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0I5HCnBIzdA2fkifG2KWZ9xY-aTsxly-m2fPdbgEX7r3H7XGJgq-ZulkHleVdg-5lw0hV3QWg-f2XFqkQRHm71oQNuuSKH7q64uvvnP1d8UsNgZD6ebeEp_YZKf2-cOiZr9NEx5bqQTN/s1600/btdr-21-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0I5HCnBIzdA2fkifG2KWZ9xY-aTsxly-m2fPdbgEX7r3H7XGJgq-ZulkHleVdg-5lw0hV3QWg-f2XFqkQRHm71oQNuuSKH7q64uvvnP1d8UsNgZD6ebeEp_YZKf2-cOiZr9NEx5bqQTN/s1600/btdr-21-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“then why not just let the guy go, and move on?” corelli asked.
<p>
“i think we are too far along to do that.”
<p>
“but can i go home?” corelli asked. “what do you need me for?”
<p>
“yes, you can go home. i will call the front desk to send a replacement for you.”
<p>
“thank you.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe06ugevrXTuOd2ASFfWorOzx7KcMcH_BS4ELlWnk4x4CjNyo0sW5y6nW7G1xbp7D0wMRZ84n1nR5sAC_4vMH0kfb6DI9ccld3kAq7hseYTyCYFccTNgxwN7LsogYNAJjMjEyistzmXzO_/s1600/btdr-21-d-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" width = "113" height = "223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe06ugevrXTuOd2ASFfWorOzx7KcMcH_BS4ELlWnk4x4CjNyo0sW5y6nW7G1xbp7D0wMRZ84n1nR5sAC_4vMH0kfb6DI9ccld3kAq7hseYTyCYFccTNgxwN7LsogYNAJjMjEyistzmXzO_/s1600/btdr-21-d-alt.gif" data-original-width="251" data-original-height="495" /></a></div>
<br>
“wait. before you leave, have a copy made of this.” taft handed corelli rutherford b hayes’s phone.
<p>
“and everything on it?”
<p>
“of course. why else would i have it copied?”
<p>
“you want me to wait for it?”
<p>
“no, no, just tell them to do it double quick and send it back to me.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
the room in which the lawyer, anne greenleaf, and rutherford b hayes found themselves was the size of a closet, with two hard chairs and a small table, and had a single small high window. it was much closer to rutherford’s idea of an interrogation room than the large windowed room he had been brought to by taft.
<p>
“all right, let’s get started,” greenleaf said. she switched her phone to record and put it on the small table. “i am anne greenleaf, an attorney for imperial city legal assistance. my id number is 78-628-h-52. and i am speaking with mr rutherford b hayes -“
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MVZRpaw3OTvQFNAREK9wTWoYXO48feYVSLo6nVlHhjNMQinp4O2RAw8OXKuEaLycwwAq_iaZuccme-Fx5KWoXuguu1MNvZbJhYhKpZ3EkfN8w00XpcoXIoOK-lbCV1y_iVjk7bSbyXzS/s1600/btdr-21-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "170" width = "340"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MVZRpaw3OTvQFNAREK9wTWoYXO48feYVSLo6nVlHhjNMQinp4O2RAw8OXKuEaLycwwAq_iaZuccme-Fx5KWoXuguu1MNvZbJhYhKpZ3EkfN8w00XpcoXIoOK-lbCV1y_iVjk7bSbyXzS/s1600/btdr-21-e.gif" data-original-width="360" data-original-height="180" /></a></div>
<p>
“excuse me. that is not my real name.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TXAEbfNqkbBJwxyjp24pKTbeHyZTmqm4ZTNqZN8WSU3BT1O-byOI5isFMeJPDef1_1zL-yKQNNql9wnwocg4aYqrKYkQ5yGRaAZZBobcm2i6pdQ6ut31mSWrGeI7r_SFAxY-FmCi4T90/s1600/btdr-21-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TXAEbfNqkbBJwxyjp24pKTbeHyZTmqm4ZTNqZN8WSU3BT1O-byOI5isFMeJPDef1_1zL-yKQNNql9wnwocg4aYqrKYkQ5yGRaAZZBobcm2i6pdQ6ut31mSWrGeI7r_SFAxY-FmCi4T90/s1600/btdr-21-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“ah. all right.” greenleaf showed no surprise. she switched off the phone. “why don’t you tell me your real name and then we can start over.”
<p>
“i don’t have a real name. or any name.”
<p>
“well, that must be awkward. “
<p>
“yes, it can be sometimes.”
<p>
“I tell you what, why don’t i turn the recorder back on and you can tell me about how and why the secret service picked you up. then we can go back later, and sort of fill in the blanks.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDIqcxCKLFO6ojiNWWN6xF1ipUzJhIJCF-c-VSFLCV4azAqVYlsJcRxZXIeO-lKC0yQSECuYa7cPdJybbX7DApQxmrjLiwjyyPQpFT59ceXwCp47exQL3z900Jej1XytRK8P0Wg5jXRlg/s1600/btdr-21-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDIqcxCKLFO6ojiNWWN6xF1ipUzJhIJCF-c-VSFLCV4azAqVYlsJcRxZXIeO-lKC0yQSECuYa7cPdJybbX7DApQxmrjLiwjyyPQpFT59ceXwCp47exQL3z900Jej1XytRK8P0Wg5jXRlg/s1600/btdr-21-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“all right.”
<p>
the man no longer calling himself “rutherford b hayes” or anything else briefly recounted his encounter with taft and grundy.
<p>
“and that’s it?” greenleaf asked when he had finished. “you have no idea why they picked you up? none at all?”
<p>
“no, i do not.”
<p>
“tell me… rutherford .. you don’t mind if i still call you rutherford…?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTaqZn_6ot03p44uoOwmaVsaSQdgvpBqXx3QTsaCYRwykcZkAIJLahUUMfjrlAQlD3-qSS-GihlW7ZHADuhNq-ultG6SRkRJJMRUr1KnY8SNIjjLnMqiK4b7N0yKg1IE6TERJYEjSf-em/s1600/btdr-21-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTaqZn_6ot03p44uoOwmaVsaSQdgvpBqXx3QTsaCYRwykcZkAIJLahUUMfjrlAQlD3-qSS-GihlW7ZHADuhNq-ultG6SRkRJJMRUr1KnY8SNIjjLnMqiK4b7N0yKg1IE6TERJYEjSf-em/s1600/btdr-21-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“it’s as good a name as any.”
<p>
“do you suffer from … blackouts… do you suddenly sort of wake up and not know where you are?”
<p>
“no, i don’t think so. it is just that i don’t know my name or who i an or where i came from.”
<p>
“you must get through the days somehow. you don’t even look like a bum. much. ”
<p>
“somehow is right. and i am not a bum. or a psycho or a criminal or a fake or a bad person. i am not any of those things.”
<p>
“you don’t have to convince me. i am sure you are not.”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-22-phone.html"><font color = "red"> 22. the phone </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-17454684175100313962020-09-18T04:09:00.003-07:002020-09-19T04:48:12.108-07:00bad road to the dead river - 20. the lawyer<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twenty </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-19-never.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "blue" width = 530><tr><td>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 510><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA1r9Arld7BoMOHvKBfOyPwCnzEsa2u2Cb6b0NtkmUz6fo_C9_Ce3tyeIJ0NuAg1cDHLQaars1BxB37alkBaxz3kaEKt6b5mHE1xGPvhyBquhYqMjGoE8kGZD5tXHrKJwDTmhEEi74E9a_/s1600/btdr-20-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA1r9Arld7BoMOHvKBfOyPwCnzEsa2u2Cb6b0NtkmUz6fo_C9_Ce3tyeIJ0NuAg1cDHLQaars1BxB37alkBaxz3kaEKt6b5mHE1xGPvhyBquhYqMjGoE8kGZD5tXHrKJwDTmhEEi74E9a_/s1600/btdr-20-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">“how’s the coffee, gabby?’ taft asked the man in the blue jacket. The man had taken the blue jacket off, revealing himself to be very much in fighting trim.
<p>
“It’s very good, thank you. the donut is good too.”
<p>
“i am glad you like them. feeing a little more relaxed now?”
<p>
“yeah, a little.”
<p>
“well, in that case , while we are waiting for your lawyer, maybe we could get started and you could tell us a little bit about yourself ? just so we could fill out the preliminary information - your name, and such, and we could save a little time.” taft picked up the man’s cell phone again. “we don’t want to have to bother breaking into this, do we?”
<p>
“i really think i would rather wait for the lawyer - since we have waited this long already.”
<p>
“whatever.” taft did not show his annoyance.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9zaYp882cS0kJeGoNxiuLoY2kw9GnASJBU0i4FM5jUI3cI040Vciubfye9rnrx7TsZVpdnlIjAs8lZXSYZDVmKdfDyINxSgKrZEmDfMTrIfzpdCh1OXEvjvtqy323cPNWTQ3t985txKK/s1600/btdr-20-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9zaYp882cS0kJeGoNxiuLoY2kw9GnASJBU0i4FM5jUI3cI040Vciubfye9rnrx7TsZVpdnlIjAs8lZXSYZDVmKdfDyINxSgKrZEmDfMTrIfzpdCh1OXEvjvtqy323cPNWTQ3t985txKK/s1600/btdr-20-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
corelli yawned. grundy fidgeted in his seat, and looked out the window.
<p>
“i have to go to the little boy’s room,“ “gabby” announced.
<p>
“that’s an old-fashioned expression,” taft said. “i don’t think i have ever heard anybody actually say it, maybe read it in a book somewhere.”
<p>
“i’m an old fashioned guy.”
<p>
“i guess. all right, but corelli will have to go with you. you understand.”
<p>
“yes, i understand.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxtn9SqpqKfi-P1z9Yg3HkRWxptZAjXfxIpp4RW5fTZGdOarlAQ-_j37rvggWlvAKTvWuTvz7h2aDYA618gys5_xNN-C72yxtSZT1GjMX0uQ5uMyUjxQrTdzP7Dri91eSZoA9mI0QZE_a/s1600/btdr-20-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxtn9SqpqKfi-P1z9Yg3HkRWxptZAjXfxIpp4RW5fTZGdOarlAQ-_j37rvggWlvAKTvWuTvz7h2aDYA618gys5_xNN-C72yxtSZT1GjMX0uQ5uMyUjxQrTdzP7Dri91eSZoA9mI0QZE_a/s1600/btdr-20-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
when corelli and gabby were out the door, grundy laughed out loud. “having second thoughts, lieutenant? how long are we going to wait for this lawyer? did you even really call for one?”
<p>
“yes, i really called for one. and they should be here by now. and no, i am not having second thoughts, i really think there is something strange about this fellow.”
<p>
“what, like saying ‘little boy’s room’ ?”
<p>
“that, and other things.”
<p>
“you know what i think, lieutenant?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrrPFSrrW9Ya3sN64W0BZz5aK0VsS1m-ep91oopIiWEVAAZQAHeZ34vd830nZQKs6UrkDiX272VfeuBMZ24xhKR0GqqVMSkHmDF_3-XzA4TCkDVhNc9934BfPE7TR0PXjGmPriq8_W8Lj/s1600/btdr-20-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrrPFSrrW9Ya3sN64W0BZz5aK0VsS1m-ep91oopIiWEVAAZQAHeZ34vd830nZQKs6UrkDiX272VfeuBMZ24xhKR0GqqVMSkHmDF_3-XzA4TCkDVhNc9934BfPE7TR0PXjGmPriq8_W8Lj/s1600/btdr-20-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“no, grundy, what, based on your extensive knowledge and experience, do you think?”
<p>
“i think you should let the guy have bill johnson, if bill johnson will have him.”
<p>
“that’s a great idea. why do you think that?”
<p>
“i just have a feeling.”
<p>
“about what?”
<p>
“i think this is going to get weird, maybe get in the news, and you’ll wish you gave the guy every break.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIp0HbU4OUfv2-zCiHCwMI2NudZ4a6FL8MnPKGaf-23hkxwqY9JpTEfqoRK5YH9qNLouxyvvqB1kHXmYoF4DtpfuR3_nOsAivZwx1RYsSE2JzEbpEhdT3HI9ZvhHw0IK0u43YSd2j-1Zwo/s1600/btdr-20-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIp0HbU4OUfv2-zCiHCwMI2NudZ4a6FL8MnPKGaf-23hkxwqY9JpTEfqoRK5YH9qNLouxyvvqB1kHXmYoF4DtpfuR3_nOsAivZwx1RYsSE2JzEbpEhdT3HI9ZvhHw0IK0u43YSd2j-1Zwo/s1600/btdr-20-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
taft was surprised. he had been thinking sort of the same thing, but before he could think of something to reply to grundy, his phone beeped.
<p>
“that has got to be the lawyer. “ he stood up.
<p>
the door opened, and the officer outside allowed a young woman to enter.
<p>
“hello,”she said, “my name is anne greenleaf, and i believe you are expecting me. i am from legal assistance.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJvNGZbNcNjm01OH47BvxEpeKoUfTBatv7Qrj2YzkQl1A4jKMpE6ZmEvcA9Vfm8K2qTKdwwmuHHx7FF_ZUrnypvcZxUXjFwVwL1BI4jVBw2hJX04UqKqXHUjDfBPccC69l-Dsndr7CRX4g/s1600/btdr-20-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJvNGZbNcNjm01OH47BvxEpeKoUfTBatv7Qrj2YzkQl1A4jKMpE6ZmEvcA9Vfm8K2qTKdwwmuHHx7FF_ZUrnypvcZxUXjFwVwL1BI4jVBw2hJX04UqKqXHUjDfBPccC69l-Dsndr7CRX4g/s1600/btdr-20-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“we are glad to see you, miss greenleaf,” taft told her. “have you handled cases like this before?”
<p>
“i advise interrogated citizens of their rights, if that is what you mean. it is what i do all day - and sometimes night. i have to say i have never dealt with the secret service before.”
<p>
“i understand.”
<p>
the lawyer looked at grundy, who had remained seated and was staring at her. “is this my client?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkH9twS7KC9C_PkOusqsPd_FcinejsM3Hw6shS2HXj7oNyciB9cPM0OyObUZmb1f1wWm2iDo9_Rkhpw12Z5jQAnLm8hWOzDg3I5u48mRYfZpP3BuNfiGn8wyem8mroJXeEV05er42lUhlF/s1600/btdr-20-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkH9twS7KC9C_PkOusqsPd_FcinejsM3Hw6shS2HXj7oNyciB9cPM0OyObUZmb1f1wWm2iDo9_Rkhpw12Z5jQAnLm8hWOzDg3I5u48mRYfZpP3BuNfiGn8wyem8mroJXeEV05er42lUhlF/s1600/btdr-20-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“ha, ha. no, grundy here is a secret service man, just like myself. your client is taking a little break - accompanied, of course.”
<p>
“well, i hope he is not making a break for it. “
<p>
taft laughed politely.
<p>
“may i sit down?’”
<p>
“of course. would you like some coffee?”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-21-must-be.html"><font color = "red"> 21. must be awkward </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-56851029836540817622020-09-17T04:04:00.004-07:002020-09-18T04:15:07.718-07:00bad road to the dead river - 19. never!<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> nineteen </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-18-old-friend.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
<br>
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<br>
<font color = "navy">“i really appreciate this, al.”
<p>
“you should. it’s just because i am such s sentimental slob. but even so, i can only give you twenty minutes, so let’s get with it.”
<p>
rebel roussel had her phone ready, set it to record, and put it on the coffee table between herself and capone. they were seated i the “red room” of the imperial palace, which capone’s predecessor, john dillinger, had converted into a library, mostly containing old books about western gunslingers, samurai warriors and world war flying aces. capone did not use the room much.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJpWhJHF95IaeVSozbUW5dIIynAUs9fece_tmfyUe7Xq4fCrdWKfvOizziC1-fSVWczkVCx3K2s1cHnixoNNh30EDjv68RkhKv8waCqUShqlAgYm8pN9d69Tbhv47qKZ-9D-VAH7VzhQn/s1600/btdr-19-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJpWhJHF95IaeVSozbUW5dIIynAUs9fece_tmfyUe7Xq4fCrdWKfvOizziC1-fSVWczkVCx3K2s1cHnixoNNh30EDjv68RkhKv8waCqUShqlAgYm8pN9d69Tbhv47qKZ-9D-VAH7VzhQn/s1600/btdr-19-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
two secret service men were the only other occupants of the room. they stood stoically at the window, looking out at the night, and not expressing their annoyance at this slight extension of their long shift, which had begun eighteen hours ago in the south pacific.
<p>
rebel also took out a small old fashioned paper notebook and a pencil. capone noticed this and snickered.
<p>
“i just like to jot a few things down,” rebel said. “makes me feel like a real reporter.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpv5NSpyp45qgv7awlunLKl6F5xmfMmQ68id2U8oKwpjLS3Nxt27dSqpaB0hwuMtzqlsCaPx6dMsdkRtff-4Js_dF9fS27XEU61OJPakIIhZK_6GLtdn-Jk5ScJ56oLq3ub0spZkqwRAYE/s1600/btdr-19-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpv5NSpyp45qgv7awlunLKl6F5xmfMmQ68id2U8oKwpjLS3Nxt27dSqpaB0hwuMtzqlsCaPx6dMsdkRtff-4Js_dF9fS27XEU61OJPakIIhZK_6GLtdn-Jk5ScJ56oLq3ub0spZkqwRAYE/s1600/btdr-19-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“like in the good old days. is that what you want to talk about, the good old days? like a human interest story? if that is what you want, i am happy to oblige.”
<p>
“no, not at all.” reb checked the phone to make sure it was recording, and raised her voice slightly.
<p>
“i am here in the red room of the imperial palace, with president al capone. thank you for seeing me, mister president,”
<p>
“it is always my pleasure, reb - ms roussel.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1-6LY39Fob-jM79o71ysrKkIcIaJfeyxjbi6PNy7Px4GEq3BpKwAxiCTl4PyP_UwzNP5sIPE7seONuBRlF0FRHFIVVuANYmwrU2ZjO21cKYP1o4ipMgAewWJb8NToYI2e8otdmAISkEo/s1600/btdr-19-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1-6LY39Fob-jM79o71ysrKkIcIaJfeyxjbi6PNy7Px4GEq3BpKwAxiCTl4PyP_UwzNP5sIPE7seONuBRlF0FRHFIVVuANYmwrU2ZjO21cKYP1o4ipMgAewWJb8NToYI2e8otdmAISkEo/s1600/btdr-19-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
“i would like to ask you, mr president, about the rumors that have been circulating in the empire, and in the world, about attempts by entities from other galaxies or other universes - aliens, if you will - to contact the peoples and the governments of this world.”
<p>
“well, reb, i have always known you as a hard nosed reporter with a passion and an instinct for hard facts, so i am a bit surprised to hear such a question from you. but i will answer the question as best i can. as i am sure you know, such speculation has been around for centuries, at least since the time of mr wells and monsieur verne, and has spawned a kind of industry that has its ups and downs - like bike riding or football or other things that keep people amused.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5h1pQIgvdU4OmoAmKkyzkXA2AvOMXP90Xyk7-ebHQKhnBVUg5hYN5ca7pdZSWbghRxezn2iKZSW_0nVaQKD48RzwSmHhL2eIAuwJ5QiUOEVQ-8vbMMXqfGSyYoRGGGYof2mz9KGZQ-8dv/s1600/btdr-19-e-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5h1pQIgvdU4OmoAmKkyzkXA2AvOMXP90Xyk7-ebHQKhnBVUg5hYN5ca7pdZSWbghRxezn2iKZSW_0nVaQKD48RzwSmHhL2eIAuwJ5QiUOEVQ-8vbMMXqfGSyYoRGGGYof2mz9KGZQ-8dv/s1600/btdr-19-e-alt.gif" data-original-width="320" data-original-height="320" /></a></div>
<br>
“that is all very well, sir, but it is the case that these ideas have suddenly taken hold and taken on a new life. not just here in america, but all over the world, most particularly in europe and the middle east, and with a somewhat new twist.
<p>
“well, reb, it does not surprise me too much that such ideas are floating around europe, as i know from my own experience that chancellor hitler is somewhat partial to entertaining them. but tell me, what is this somewhat new twist you speak of?”
<p>
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<br>
“the new twist is that there is more than one set of aliens, and that they are attempting to play the empires of the earth off against one another.”
<p>
“i have absolutely never heard of such a thing. our tireless and patriotic intelligence services - the finest in the world - have never so much as hinted at such a thing to me. i repeat, i have never heard of such a thing, not even in the movies.”
<p>
“so you do not think it possible that we might see war break out among the empires, each of them fighting side by side by some army or other from outer space?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSX6EZdcDIW5-tadEY_zqXKvx7pOpUMOI7x_Mbpo9lPYnWCLur1TQZTopYfFFeCbHx1G2G5EN_5_TJkZJjumDbzFfISMVuyHuyWp4lQ1Y-0LGKm9lQI3zLc1y_kA8YDu3RnY5K_iF2GpMt/s1600/btdr-19-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSX6EZdcDIW5-tadEY_zqXKvx7pOpUMOI7x_Mbpo9lPYnWCLur1TQZTopYfFFeCbHx1G2G5EN_5_TJkZJjumDbzFfISMVuyHuyWp4lQ1Y-0LGKm9lQI3zLc1y_kA8YDu3RnY5K_iF2GpMt/s1600/btdr-19-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“what a question to ask! especially to someone like myself, just returned from a peace conference in paris, where great and hopeful strides were made toward finally reaching the eternally elusive goal of world peace.”
<p>
“would you ever consider sending american troops into battle, against any of their fellow humans, with creatures from the depths of outer space as our allies?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLNU0cZzdS06HirIdHvH4vKpF_nW2ddZIZ68IVcbbDJy9SuLMC7Rx_myXU-kNRk_bumWnHJJ8rbHMxgbMnCOMmCuXaeitItWVfEvK3J4CoeHouya1uvAZw_SIX5OGqAL9HAkeZJGaH5yq/s1600/btdr-19-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLNU0cZzdS06HirIdHvH4vKpF_nW2ddZIZ68IVcbbDJy9SuLMC7Rx_myXU-kNRk_bumWnHJJ8rbHMxgbMnCOMmCuXaeitItWVfEvK3J4CoeHouya1uvAZw_SIX5OGqAL9HAkeZJGaH5yq/s1600/btdr-19-h.gif" data-original-width="180" data-original-height="180" /></a></div>
<br>
“never! the thought is totally repugnant to me. i wonder at the sort of mentality that could even conceive of such a thing.”
<p>
“thank ypu, mr president. no one can accuse you of giving a wishy washy answer. i think we can move on. since you have so graciously allowed me a bit of your valuable time, may i ask you how your children and grandchildren are doing.”
<p>
‘very well, thank you, reb. thank you for asking.”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-20-lawyer.html"><font color = "red"> 20. the lawyer </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-75943836941649450142020-09-16T03:32:00.002-07:002020-09-17T04:07:18.327-07:00bad road to the dead river - 18. an old friend<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> eighteen </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-17-secrets.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<br>
<font color = "navy">although capone was, as he wished, “treated like just another customer” at heinie’s, he always got a table, and no one except the staff was allowed to approach him.
<p>
the presidential party was usually waited on by fritz, a bent backed and silent old timer who had been with the establishment since old heinie’s day. he took the orders and never spoke an extra word unless spoken to.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTy-TGaEEbdaSCTNltqPJLyKVyU9Od-MYoWCJUuQotPnb7U3-U15vJ1lgMaDrwz4zwGBSmPZSY9dDHZV_jjVZA9tcbERnT_wPfTWCfalfi1tYtY0kig4ZppoWutk8Gwin8iy_ft7fFQY6k/s1600/btdr-18-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTy-TGaEEbdaSCTNltqPJLyKVyU9Od-MYoWCJUuQotPnb7U3-U15vJ1lgMaDrwz4zwGBSmPZSY9dDHZV_jjVZA9tcbERnT_wPfTWCfalfi1tYtY0kig4ZppoWutk8Gwin8iy_ft7fFQY6k/s1600/btdr-18-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
on this particular night, on capone’s return from the conference in the south pacific, the party of five, capone and four secret service men, were seated at one large table in the corner, away from the bar and the kitchen.
<p>
and they were waited on not by fritz, but by a gray haired woman.
<p>
“hello, al.” the waitress greeted the president. “it’s been a while.”
<p>
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capone looked up, startled, and the four secret service men stiffened. one of them, an energetic and ambitious young fellow named dalton, jumped up and stood at the waitress’s back, waiting for a signal from capone.
<p>
but capone recovered quickly, looked directly at the woman, and laughed. “rebel roussel,” he said.
<p>
“you never forget a face, al. even under the most unexpected circumstances.”
<p>
“it’s a gift from my grandmother. sit down, dalton, everything is under control here.”
<p>
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<br>
dalton sat down. “same old reb,” capone continued. “go to any lengths to get the story. you could have just called me, you know. i always like to hear from old friends.”
<p>
“but al, i really am the waitress here.”
<p>
“yeah, right. and i am just pretending to be president, and i escaped from devil’s island this morning. boys, this is the famous rebel roussel, of the chicago flame-oracle, the last of the red-hot reporters.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptuhgR8H0_IYlszkL1OwbrKSDsoz2lr99s-gOYv0A2yD_kSHtw1_tDeHc-5eLXKk0KmLoMkrOdWKDevBv6fMbn3wXNCFMOLKGSbijEs1YvJO0o07ngdTZQb9FSLccjWfWCQIPNTwpLydG/s1600/btdr-18-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptuhgR8H0_IYlszkL1OwbrKSDsoz2lr99s-gOYv0A2yD_kSHtw1_tDeHc-5eLXKk0KmLoMkrOdWKDevBv6fMbn3wXNCFMOLKGSbijEs1YvJO0o07ngdTZQb9FSLccjWfWCQIPNTwpLydG/s1600/btdr-18-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
the secret service men just nodded. rebel held up her waitress pad. “i do have to take your orders. we can’t gab - <i>here</i>. much as we would like to.”
<p>
“sure. i’ll have what i always have. the grilled brockwurst with red cabbage. these bums will have the same, unless they want to waste the empire’s time.”
<p>
“anything to drink?’
<p>
“black coffee.”
<p>
“for everyone?’
<p>
“bring some cream and sugar, they can use it if they want.”
<p>
rebel departed. nobody at the table spoke.
<p>
the restaurant had a mural on its wall depicting scenes from wagner’s operas. capone stared at it.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0JaQrBk31M2RCqutrJp068_rRkLhZ7a32r058_KTmivzUhGz96iQzQSAwcczryhh8oevS5mv9tZ0Mw-gszvJRbShnJpZjYO9Qbi2E6HGX3FHpm4b-pr4igLufmg9sL0P2tTtxEYlQ6uh-/s1600/btdr-18-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0JaQrBk31M2RCqutrJp068_rRkLhZ7a32r058_KTmivzUhGz96iQzQSAwcczryhh8oevS5mv9tZ0Mw-gszvJRbShnJpZjYO9Qbi2E6HGX3FHpm4b-pr4igLufmg9sL0P2tTtxEYlQ6uh-/s1600/btdr-18-f.gif" data-original-width="360" data-original-height="200" /></a></div>
<p>
rebel roussel! seeing her brought back memories of the old days in chicago… the great snow and ice storms…</font>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-19-never.html"><font color = "red"> 19. never! </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-66684805029032098152020-09-15T03:39:00.001-07:002020-09-16T03:35:07.515-07:00bad road to the dead river - 17. secrets<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
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<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> seventeen </font> of thirty-two
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for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-16-mister-red.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<font color = "navy">one of the many perks of being president of the american empire was that you could go through customs without being stopped and searched (at least insofar a searches were carried out by human agents) .
<p>
so it was that president al capone walked out of great american airport and walked to his limousine with an initialed copy in his breast pocket of the secret agreement he had reached with chancellor hitler of the teutonic empire to back the same alien empire if and when those empires started squabbling over whatever the goddamn stuff they wanted in the earth’s oceans was.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwsCtixX65S_T5QlxsCAT92_stPaiIfd25j-UIQ05k_mEsSYY9nOhECE01OBI2CuiX6vZ__Z3OpK8rQjWCgq3A0GwpIe4qKTfG2LYBuiZLMdgn374TLBSlxDitybr9lFFIb_ye1rfMf2y/s1600/btdr-17-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwsCtixX65S_T5QlxsCAT92_stPaiIfd25j-UIQ05k_mEsSYY9nOhECE01OBI2CuiX6vZ__Z3OpK8rQjWCgq3A0GwpIe4qKTfG2LYBuiZLMdgn374TLBSlxDitybr9lFFIb_ye1rfMf2y/s1600/btdr-17-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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it was about eight thirty at night. a light rain was falling, mixing up some slush with the remnants of the previous week’s snowstorms.
<p>
a bunch of reporters were penned behind a wire fence on the side of the airport. a few of them waved half heartedly at him, and he heard the clicks of a few old-fashioned cameras.
<p>
capone ignored them. what a bunch of wusses, he thought. he remembered the old days, when life was life and politics was politics, and real reporters like rebel russell and cowboy grant could give a poor aspiring power hungry hustler a run for their stories.
<p>
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<br>
he got in the limousine and it pulled out on to the highway and headed downtown. there were no accompanying cars, the limo was unmarked, and they made good time through the wet, snow lined streets.
<p>
“stop somewhere and buy the paper,” capone ordered. none of the four secret service men were surprised at this. despite being continuously briefed by the empire’s own information gatherers, and having a phone in his pocket that accessed every large and small news service, the president liked to “look at the papers” because “you never know, they might miss something”. he thought the more sophisticated news gatherers were too sophisticated and would miss things that the salt of the earth, like himself, would see the true meaning of.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj99MHiOztK6gVAgK81Qek7wxqYcTO_XTsIEjcTOn1A4OpKrc5jBO9WDMhmKxAq_VofcJn0tDhw78WsmzYnNmcLLHZt-HrM0_y_SuXNbdKcNbQhBjRV747qtFJe_SrVmkGMbWrndXrZhyoE/s1600/btdr-17-d-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj99MHiOztK6gVAgK81Qek7wxqYcTO_XTsIEjcTOn1A4OpKrc5jBO9WDMhmKxAq_VofcJn0tDhw78WsmzYnNmcLLHZt-HrM0_y_SuXNbdKcNbQhBjRV747qtFJe_SrVmkGMbWrndXrZhyoE/s1600/btdr-17-d-alt.gif" data-original-width="500" data-original-height="200" /></a></div>
<p>
the secret service men thought he liked to look at the old fashioned comic strips in the daily papers, although none of them had ever seen him glance at them while they were in his presence.
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<br>
the limo pulled over to a convenience store.
<p>
“the ledger” capone said. they all knew that he always wanted the ledger, but he liked to make sure they knew. if they didn’t have the ledger - and they probably did - they would drive around until they found a place that did. the limo was unmarked , and such vehicles as were on the streets of the capital were as likely as not to be limos, so they were not that conspicuous.
<p>
the convenience store had a copy of the the ledger, and the limo moved on to next destination - capone’s favorite restaurant in the city,, heinie zimmerman’s german delicatessen. heinie’s was not a particularly well known place, and no tourist attraction.
<p>
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<p>
although he could not patronize it as often as he liked, he almost always stopped by when he returned to the capital, especially if he had been out of the empire.
<p>
old heinie had been dead for years, but his son, and the entire staff, knew that capone did not like to be greeted, and liked to be treated as “just another customer”.
<p>
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<p>
but they always had a table for him. usually two, to comfortably accommodate the secret service men.
</font>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-18-old-friend.html"><font color = "red"> 18. an old friend </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-38248720148368085952020-09-14T01:56:00.001-07:002020-09-15T03:42:28.165-07:00bad road to the dead river - 16. mister red<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
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<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> sixteen </font> of thirty-two
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for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-15-early-birds.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<font color = "navy">the conference had not yet officially begun, but ms nancy nan, the chairman of the universal party of the pacific empire, and officially the hostess of the conference, was already heartily sick of it.
<p>
so it was with no smile on her face that the greeted the unexpected arrival of swerve, her long time aide de camp, when she was trying to take a short break before descending to the hotel dining room to preside over the opening dinner of the conference.
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“I realize you might not wish to be disturbed, excellency, “ swerve began. “but there is a gentleman here who is most insistent to see you.”
<p>
“insistent? but how insistent can he be? and he is ‘a gentleman’, you do not know who is he is? does he have a name?’
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“there is something very curious about this individual, excellency.,” swerve replied mildly. “something i can not place, or describe. and it is for that reason, that i took it upon myself to intrude, when i am quite aware that you do not wish to be disturbed.” swerve had enjoyed a long career as a shaman before joining the diplomatic service, and his advice to the chairman often included reference to unseen and unknowable forces.
<p>
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“can you give me some idea as to what you find so curious about him, swerve? and again, does he have a name.”
<p>
“i do not think this individual is human, excellency.”
<p>
“ahh - say no more.” ms nan was aware of the increasing number of stories about contact by aliens, which were beginning to make a dent in the skepticism of the imperial rulers, including herself, and their security and intelligence minions.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASO8eTWi_E5etC6Yvwf3EF2iOXhpI5uRkhrCiL9ExWDlOvUGFbAn4yKAYFCqtOQNtg25g0B0ux22rTN7JVt4gbnTA0YAG0bXiv9wzwunK2ZYXcQdc8OOb7sDCSUUsm_dup6wjyt4hnWC2/s1600/btdr-16-d-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASO8eTWi_E5etC6Yvwf3EF2iOXhpI5uRkhrCiL9ExWDlOvUGFbAn4yKAYFCqtOQNtg25g0B0ux22rTN7JVt4gbnTA0YAG0bXiv9wzwunK2ZYXcQdc8OOb7sDCSUUsm_dup6wjyt4hnWC2/s1600/btdr-16-d-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“tell this person i will see him, but after the opening dinner and ceremonies which obviously i can not forego. i am sure he is not so impatient as not to understand that. just keep him occupied, swerve, keep your own eye on him, we can’t have this individual just wandering around where he will.”
<p>
“of course, excellency. his name, by the way, is mister red. he declined to give any other information.”
<p>
“an easy name to remember, at least.”
<p>
swerve departed. ms nan checked her timepiece - twenty-five minutes until she would have to put her shoes on her sore feet and descend to the dining room.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMGNBWi8WQcHAXVc3uNAI7WVRtuHkNT1n8l8qsurDRmYMXpS-JCAypLw2BVDtLOPKbpV1JDgMAjR017MOc78wgiqKZbP4JZhqjbLLAZOsZkK2ytpjn8MTUG4m_yIh330m4LiID6TdBzN8/s1600/btdr-16-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMGNBWi8WQcHAXVc3uNAI7WVRtuHkNT1n8l8qsurDRmYMXpS-JCAypLw2BVDtLOPKbpV1JDgMAjR017MOc78wgiqKZbP4JZhqjbLLAZOsZkK2ytpjn8MTUG4m_yIh330m4LiID6TdBzN8/s1600/btdr-16-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
mister red had dark skin, short hair, muscular arms and legs, and wore a neatly cut, but not expensive looking brown suit. he should have looked like a bodyguard but did not. he did not took alert, but placid, like fear was unknown to him. his eyes, if he had any, were hidden behind thick wraparound dark glasses.
<p>
“i understand madam’s reluctance to postpone this so-called dinner and ceremony, “ he assured swerve, “although i fail to quite understand the purpose of either proceeding.” he paused. “i would like to spend my time waiting in the hotel lobby. watching the world go by, i believe the expression is.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLJB2v9Uc7XtqgVmiNFsAKTiLjgj3bOTkXQysvKKhtGucJRtx9P_F7BQoVbIWMwpSHce3DqsB3Q0iRGupNo9RBUYmoSua5RA9KAGVCTh41sAn3Qa81R_fxcSSQPKRhWNpjM-KFJyrYnAcJ/s1600/btdr-16-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLJB2v9Uc7XtqgVmiNFsAKTiLjgj3bOTkXQysvKKhtGucJRtx9P_F7BQoVbIWMwpSHce3DqsB3Q0iRGupNo9RBUYmoSua5RA9KAGVCTh41sAn3Qa81R_fxcSSQPKRhWNpjM-KFJyrYnAcJ/s1600/btdr-16-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
swerve considered this. he would prefer the underlings of the other chiefs of state not see mister red, but had no ready reason for mister red not to do so. “do you play chess, sir?” he asked mister red. “pinochle, perhaps, or billiards?”
<p>
“i would prefer to sit in the lobby, and watch the world go by.”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-17-secrets.html"><font color = "red"> 17. secrets </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-49585755161091897602020-09-13T04:23:00.001-07:002020-09-14T01:59:09.090-07:00bad road to the dead river - 15. early birds<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> fifteen </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-14-stakeout.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<br>
<font color = "navy">peace conferences were always held on the floating island of paris. the newest one was to be held in the south pacific, three thousand kilometers southwest of easter island.
<p>
president al capone , accompanied only by a few bodyguards and stenographers, arrived two days early for the conference. this was a habitual preference of his. secretaty of state wilson, secretary of war custer, and various other functionaries, civilian and military, would follow when the conference officially “began”.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin05gTs_v1wIEnluIPvELC3c0iy19hCHLGZc5mHJ5YVS_uxZmaKhTWUowUuKYy883A7yWixrRFm21LuOv-P0SFDkocCWtuB9xiJug6SnmvJ50319q866ExK1U0M38FWjYaREFVjaKSJJn8/s1600/btdr-15-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin05gTs_v1wIEnluIPvELC3c0iy19hCHLGZc5mHJ5YVS_uxZmaKhTWUowUuKYy883A7yWixrRFm21LuOv-P0SFDkocCWtuB9xiJug6SnmvJ50319q866ExK1U0M38FWjYaREFVjaKSJJn8/s1600/btdr-15-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
chancellor hitler of the teutonic empire also preferred to arrive early. he and capone thus had opportunities to chat “privately”. they had done this on a couple of occasions previously. the heads of the other five empires found this annoying , but not so much that they altered their own schedules to arrive “early” also. all professed enough confidence in their own diplomatic and espionage services that the two early birds could not gain any advantage over them. besides, if hitler and capone wanted to talk, at any time, what was to prevent them?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMw385TAhZi2y7OBBcMhpg1UsLmhyphenhyphenYhWxy6m07gcxhUeR4dne1lh0VtJQCgwDwkc0QkVqJRrnwkTQC13Y2WLcNxA7cVI2mmAya7nq3fN6B5MsZwTtyGsUCAzjby49x946v1xkqlBPZyk_/s1600/btdr-15-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMw385TAhZi2y7OBBcMhpg1UsLmhyphenhyphenYhWxy6m07gcxhUeR4dne1lh0VtJQCgwDwkc0QkVqJRrnwkTQC13Y2WLcNxA7cVI2mmAya7nq3fN6B5MsZwTtyGsUCAzjby49x946v1xkqlBPZyk_/s1600/btdr-15-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
while his modest luggage was being sent to his room, capone went over and took a seat on a divan in the center of the hotel lobby, beside a small pool with a couple of small white sharks swimming in it .
<p>
capone ignored the sharks, and stared into space, thinking his thoughts.
<p>
he saw hitler come through the front door, with his own entourage, even more modest than capone’s,, and check in
<p>
bellhops took charge of hitler’s modest luggage, and hitler came over and joined capone.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicr-RQMiLNYwfRQzUI4BPaotLGfXDj63hhVi5Ylxr7dXy6gRS_P9ma6RTKRxb-HuKtiW7Yasd664oHbcXX71OW4zPP-ZTEudf_UwD-CoFGv2CcAvOTqRHtVB9kVKYAuimUfgrBHU4JutHk/s1600/btdr-15-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicr-RQMiLNYwfRQzUI4BPaotLGfXDj63hhVi5Ylxr7dXy6gRS_P9ma6RTKRxb-HuKtiW7Yasd664oHbcXX71OW4zPP-ZTEudf_UwD-CoFGv2CcAvOTqRHtVB9kVKYAuimUfgrBHU4JutHk/s1600/btdr-15-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
one of hitler’s bodyguards - a hulking fellow with a closely shaved head - took another seat in the lobby, distant enough, but from where he could keep an eye on the two statesmen. capone thought this a bit of a breach of etiquette, but did not say anything to hitler, and greeted him in his usual cordial manner.
<p>
“good morning, bunky.” bunky was capone’s nickname for hitler. he had nicknames for everybody, including his fellow heads of empires. some of his advisors had expressed the opinion that this was not a good idea, but he ignored them.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nGDNBzHzmANdMKZr9RhwbBE6uocPTjgfyRNZg_XlHiFhXziRZPP0melEopin0pw068SWejEabUdzCTsPq9hiiwDiWE_2HnRyYGUU6ty7SCZGu5FwqCH4lPyUI8a6NQvgrbLl4CupVsL8/s1600/btdr-15-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nGDNBzHzmANdMKZr9RhwbBE6uocPTjgfyRNZg_XlHiFhXziRZPP0melEopin0pw068SWejEabUdzCTsPq9hiiwDiWE_2HnRyYGUU6ty7SCZGu5FwqCH4lPyUI8a6NQvgrbLl4CupVsL8/s1600/btdr-15-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“good morning, mr president,” hitler replied politely. he looked tired. he took a chair in front of capone, bur a little off to the side, so that he was facing the shark pool.
<p>
“why don’t we get right to the point?” capone asked.
<p>
“why not? but what point?” hitler replied softly.
<p>
“all this stuff about people from outer space. are you hearing about that?’
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qMGxsDIeVILm9r3F3hTTN-YSrpr_oqE44EwIVJqMmETRv13rjXqpgbMl-eeZCrg9shF95sGfyHDmhfMZQ9hm4ofHX8YQyDmaEYQ0ucEVIYijMyVHirbukZz3QHyUm9W07g6imUjLt57G/s1600/btdr-15-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qMGxsDIeVILm9r3F3hTTN-YSrpr_oqE44EwIVJqMmETRv13rjXqpgbMl-eeZCrg9shF95sGfyHDmhfMZQ9hm4ofHX8YQyDmaEYQ0ucEVIYijMyVHirbukZz3QHyUm9W07g6imUjLt57G/s1600/btdr-15-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“the security services of the teutonic empire hear many things. i trust them to separate what is believable from what is not so believable.”
<p>
“but are they hearing about people - empires, whatever - from outer space?’
<p>
“visitors from outer space have always been a favorite subject of speculation based on few or no facts.”
<p>
capone smiled. he found hitler’s careful way of speaking amusing. “but are you hearing more of this sort of thing lately? are you hearing a lot more of it lately?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYlBVkbXyvnOUWA7RFdv11u40fYOLYVirL4fDtnavVhf28aWnUYRu2-_89fbmBGa8r7V7hR2xIObpNIFroIFVpM1YcqnQt-ScpoJac9W-8TWPlA5irUBfpN9dD2kT7f1xT0FxzvGd5Q0DA/s1600/btdr-15-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYlBVkbXyvnOUWA7RFdv11u40fYOLYVirL4fDtnavVhf28aWnUYRu2-_89fbmBGa8r7V7hR2xIObpNIFroIFVpM1YcqnQt-ScpoJac9W-8TWPlA5irUBfpN9dD2kT7f1xT0FxzvGd5Q0DA/s1600/btdr-15-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
a waiter approached. the two statesmen fell silent until he was bowing in front of them.
<p>
“would you gentlemen care for some refreshment?”
<p>
“a cup of chamimille tea, not too strong, and a raspberry tart.”
<p>
“black coffee and three jelly donuts.”
<p>
the waiter departed.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVj9qQSoL8a-DSoyD9nbP25ulpPWvNsgSCJ3tjYv0XV0OkOH6Wp6Lxamp-P4lsXwYiuydg6kTj0atzqft1OjcA8z8wPRaNR8Z3vDlv6zKy2l1J7DsLSi97afU1q7s3SPmzIsPrInY-jhr/s1600/btdr-15-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVj9qQSoL8a-DSoyD9nbP25ulpPWvNsgSCJ3tjYv0XV0OkOH6Wp6Lxamp-P4lsXwYiuydg6kTj0atzqft1OjcA8z8wPRaNR8Z3vDlv6zKy2l1J7DsLSi97afU1q7s3SPmzIsPrInY-jhr/s1600/btdr-15-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“it’s good to have nobody around quacking about your health,” capone said. “and be able to get exactly what you want.”
<p>
hitler watched the waiter until he disappeared in the direction of the hotel cafeteria. “how do we know that that fellow was not an agent of some galactic empire or other?”
<p>
“i guess we don’t ,” capone said.
<p>
“indeed. as you were saying…”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-16-mister-red.html"><font color = "red"> 16. mister red </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-38341733524459504252020-09-12T04:02:00.000-07:002020-09-13T04:26:45.188-07:00bad road to the dead river - 14. the stakeout<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> fourteen </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-13-pablo.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<br>
<font color = "navy">It was a nice day.
<p>
the storm had passed. the sun glinted off the piles of snow left on the street.
<p>
pablo the piranha was seated in another coffee shop, a few blocks away from the one in which he had been interviewed by “mister brown” the night before. this one did not afford the same view of the imperial palace and the buildings containing the corridors of power.
<p>
pablo sat on a stool at a counter beside the window, like he was watching the world go by. and the world he was watching was, to all outward appearances, the world of ordinary people going about their ordinary business.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_G-GXdN3_QMwLsy4ZXdHybTZnniKP5RRQsUEyPg2BXKqnJJL1Y1oyetyzatqfQ7RFjNKBhIX808RX0oCUHrRY2FmO8EeijTQSvQCrxySb8yvtN_X3yfFnOXzk1I_p3prwmufFPjO8g1Z/s1600/btdr-14-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_G-GXdN3_QMwLsy4ZXdHybTZnniKP5RRQsUEyPg2BXKqnJJL1Y1oyetyzatqfQ7RFjNKBhIX808RX0oCUHrRY2FmO8EeijTQSvQCrxySb8yvtN_X3yfFnOXzk1I_p3prwmufFPjO8g1Z/s1600/btdr-14-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
mister brown had provided pablo with a “coffee card” from the coffee shop chain which entitled him to what was in effect unlimited coffee and dougnuts.
<p>
the girl at the counter had laughed when pablo had first presented the card to her. “i never seen a card with this much on it before.” she told pablo. “did you pay for it yourself?”
<p>
“i won it a contest,” pablo said, as he had been instructed to by mister brown.
<p>
“whatever. hey, ralph, look at this, “ the girl called to a neanderthal looking guy at the other end of the counter, probably the manager.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tv6oMd5ZcICAX0-wzbKtlS92MLe7cc5arWk3VvjrIHhzv6b64esgXBXH7OEYEiEfASfG4SZ3WtSbGZVg7LKRdTY6tY90fBZoakA-SmR41nFxdVAVs7s0DHjCZhZO2HsolypO3_yWfQLX/s1600/btdr-14-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tv6oMd5ZcICAX0-wzbKtlS92MLe7cc5arWk3VvjrIHhzv6b64esgXBXH7OEYEiEfASfG4SZ3WtSbGZVg7LKRdTY6tY90fBZoakA-SmR41nFxdVAVs7s0DHjCZhZO2HsolypO3_yWfQLX/s1600/btdr-14-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“what?” ralph answred, without looking at her.
<p>
“this guy’s got a card for two thousand dollars!”
<p>
“oh, yeah.”
<p>
“oh, yeah, what?”
<p>
“i heard there was a guy. you must be the guy,” ralph said, turning to look at pablo.
<p>
“i won it in a contest,” pablo repeated.
<p>
“that’s what i said, you’re the guy, that won it in the contest.” the discussion ended, ralph folded his muscular arms across his chest, and went back to leaning on the counter.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChN51arglRIvXfg_7TQaxQlY8rq0I86syR7g-xjzP2j6datGZ8mBGjBwZAXUJuykHiDg8SoFjiRV-2PPbr6uQDcFAshxsXv8kbY2dz2wOo5X7Cr4X1hyphenhyphenz-SHkAIhC-jBnvWPmS3vM7juG/s1600/btdr-14-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChN51arglRIvXfg_7TQaxQlY8rq0I86syR7g-xjzP2j6datGZ8mBGjBwZAXUJuykHiDg8SoFjiRV-2PPbr6uQDcFAshxsXv8kbY2dz2wOo5X7Cr4X1hyphenhyphenz-SHkAIhC-jBnvWPmS3vM7juG/s1600/btdr-14-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“so what it will be, mister two thousand dollar man?” the girl asked.
<p>
“just a regular coffee, cream no sugar, and a boston cream donut.”
<p>
“enjoy!” the girl called after pablo as he headed for the counter with the coffee and donut.
<p>
pablo did not think it seemed very bright of mister brown to call attention to him, pablo, in this manner, but he supposed mister brown knew his business. he hoped he knew his business.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq1Nbz2TJ6uD7y_UMNOEI_M1mP6nxG5RSHo170BLo9zFZ0Em5RYmj9ioSBNe5xhPlU9uGX5o6baTkEFtxoYjPp0DPDcHFUvHGo1lb2QP0Eq4aaUuSw_uOH5-O6e84YbXOvpzDhUksBDpJE/s1600/btdr-14-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq1Nbz2TJ6uD7y_UMNOEI_M1mP6nxG5RSHo170BLo9zFZ0Em5RYmj9ioSBNe5xhPlU9uGX5o6baTkEFtxoYjPp0DPDcHFUvHGo1lb2QP0Eq4aaUuSw_uOH5-O6e84YbXOvpzDhUksBDpJE/s1600/btdr-14-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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pablo took his seat at the counter. his quarry was visible across the street. not directly across the street, but close enough.
<p>
in the bright sunlight the professor looked even younger than he had in the picture mister brown had shown pablo. he looked about nine years old.
<p>
the kid had a huge stack of papers under his arm. and another big stack on the ground beside him, held down with a rock on something, a tarp or something, to protect then from the wet sidewalk.
<p>
how long was it going to take him to sell them? and was he, pablo, expected to sit here staring at him for hours while he drank two thousand dollars worth of coffee?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgsg71_SRsMq89VM-rARedRrcG72gBksUlpU9Epn991JVGpeDV_bn9gcmrzDrshl4dyoNy6EnTN4-ITu1Bp22dbznW-BfFBK_aC12L4_KEu-Y87yNJuAdnrVLknC54hzEVGhJaCKpX7kS/s1600/btdr-14-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgsg71_SRsMq89VM-rARedRrcG72gBksUlpU9Epn991JVGpeDV_bn9gcmrzDrshl4dyoNy6EnTN4-ITu1Bp22dbznW-BfFBK_aC12L4_KEu-Y87yNJuAdnrVLknC54hzEVGhJaCKpX7kS/s1600/btdr-14-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
everything about the setup gave pablo a bad feeling.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-15-early-birds.html"><font color = "red"> 15. early birds </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-91806045511185733412020-09-11T03:33:00.001-07:002020-09-12T04:05:33.270-07:00bad road to the dead river - 13. pablo<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
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<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> thirteen </font> of thirty-two
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<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-12-rutherford-b.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1axV_GjnUX4EMU-DDGMkpA32s-yTwKxmpFsXtUJTa_1FIB1iAtE_7QpJtWjOqw8qnG8q1gakg3jZZVMihMZn9v256_-Kuc-FbQU4WDGNtHGbqNFjVB1S4D7j7goesXqW1_5_CGyebHDV/s1600/btdr-13-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1axV_GjnUX4EMU-DDGMkpA32s-yTwKxmpFsXtUJTa_1FIB1iAtE_7QpJtWjOqw8qnG8q1gakg3jZZVMihMZn9v256_-Kuc-FbQU4WDGNtHGbqNFjVB1S4D7j7goesXqW1_5_CGyebHDV/s1600/btdr-13-a.gif" data-original-width="360" data-original-height="180" /></a></div>
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<font color = "navy">midnight, in an all night cafe in the american capital. the lights of the state department building could be seen from it, through the trees in the great park that surrounded the imperial palace (the former “white house”) and through the whole conglomeration of imperial headquarters buildings.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjubt1SmvnSwmWNXjkjnA83iHVJh4SdfHFu7F_iPiIIIs-orWWQAFJoXXyhniiam5cPAFx7dqqrIeLTc1W_e9TKw513mOOadffQ1S3kOR57LJPBEPC-qggIKGvPj8a3tJUQqKj8bWst_aCd/s1600/btdr-13-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjubt1SmvnSwmWNXjkjnA83iHVJh4SdfHFu7F_iPiIIIs-orWWQAFJoXXyhniiam5cPAFx7dqqrIeLTc1W_e9TKw513mOOadffQ1S3kOR57LJPBEPC-qggIKGvPj8a3tJUQqKj8bWst_aCd/s1600/btdr-13-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
outside, it was snowing, but lightly. the storm that had raged for almost two days had passed.
<p>
an oddly assorted pair sat in a booth beside the window, sipping coffee from cracked porcelain cups.
<p>
“i swear you can trust me, mister brown. i hate the whole stinking human race, and will do anything to betray it.” the speaker was pablo “the piranha” perkins, a former messenger and errand boy for the west side mob, which had been recently ground to powder and scattered to the four winds by the machine-gunning minions of attorney general moran’s “special squad”.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ny72v9PeUloBUwc9GBW1CPclCZr2N9_rlwVtxyQNWmMjgf23UDoIDKaT7UfPt8ejkIrh1hDSliGdJDVM2YypaniCZh4iaiTxxnOmsOlmlMDvZwp844bRfx4sQ9W9zfTjoSh4Yo15B9f1/s1600/btdr-13-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ny72v9PeUloBUwc9GBW1CPclCZr2N9_rlwVtxyQNWmMjgf23UDoIDKaT7UfPt8ejkIrh1hDSliGdJDVM2YypaniCZh4iaiTxxnOmsOlmlMDvZwp844bRfx4sQ9W9zfTjoSh4Yo15B9f1/s1600/btdr-13-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
his companion, who had paid for the two cups of coffee and two doughnuts, was “mister brown”, an individual who had come out of nowhere, and whose purpose pablo could not figure out. he had paid pablo a few dollars over the last couple of days,to follow a few people, in what pablo suspected were meaningless jobs just to see if pablo would do what he was paid to do.
<p>
now, mister brown had bought pablo a cup of coffee and a doughnut and seemed to be leading up to something real, maybe even something big.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vU6IBxe9R1nLT31kSBl3-fgwrJ-Mzh643sOAr7pzbFKyIaCrWJWCdrRibndd173NOnai6lBy8nzqH941K-jFted3hdmTcTgAvWrgq3Dm3cffUh1gP5cTXp1N6F8M2_r1M6ML1mulQlL3/s1600/btdr-13-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vU6IBxe9R1nLT31kSBl3-fgwrJ-Mzh643sOAr7pzbFKyIaCrWJWCdrRibndd173NOnai6lBy8nzqH941K-jFted3hdmTcTgAvWrgq3Dm3cffUh1gP5cTXp1N6F8M2_r1M6ML1mulQlL3/s1600/btdr-13-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
mister brown could have been any age, and looked like a model in a magazine ad for men’s suits, except that he had thick glasses that almost covered his face.
<p>
the part of the face that pablo that pablo could see never moved. his lips did not seem to move.
<p>
“nobody said anything about trusting you, perkins. i just expressed some skepticism as to whether to were up to the challenge of doing this particular job.”
<p>
“i’ll do my best, mister brown,” said pablo. “honest, i will.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZoRDhwiWH84xRfRov4FpMdH4GZ1Ak-Vk0qKY39_OWThnx9vLZssAfEeDcUs73tvdiF4q_iVP7BQrk1Rg3TPD1TrvC5hFDa8FWbXOnx6FlnDM8k4_GBrbOW5d1CCFBUpEx2O5x0AqcfOD/s1600/btdr-13-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZoRDhwiWH84xRfRov4FpMdH4GZ1Ak-Vk0qKY39_OWThnx9vLZssAfEeDcUs73tvdiF4q_iVP7BQrk1Rg3TPD1TrvC5hFDa8FWbXOnx6FlnDM8k4_GBrbOW5d1CCFBUpEx2O5x0AqcfOD/s1600/btdr-13-e.gif" data-original-width="200" data-original-height="200" /></a></div>
<br>
mister brown laughed. the laugh seemed to come from the back of his head. “i am afraid that where i come from, that is not good enough.”
<p>
“i’m sorry.” pablo did not know what else to say.
<p>
“well. why don’t you elucidate exactly why you hate the whole stinking race, and are eager to betray it.”
<p>
pablo was not sure he knew what “elucidate” meant, but he replied, ‘because of what they done to us! the west side mob was the greatest bunch of guys that ever was! we were a band of brothers! and we gave good service! we gave the people what they wanted! and that skunk moran and his goons had to go and bust us up, put my brothers in the river and up the river.
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it just wasn’t right! and for what? just to get some votes from little old ladies and archbishops out in the countryside planting flowers on their green lawns? what about the people here in town? the little people who do their jobs and just want to smoke a little dope or take a shot at the numbers? what about them? and not just shut the mob down but with machine guns? it wasn’t right…”. pablo was out of breath, and he noticed the counterman, the only other person in the place, looking at him from across the room with a little smile on his face.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGyQ3QeWLahzL8v5WNXMm4hn7Ihi7q975goIqFWFPFbK-8t2OE_2vBhfRlHJw_QYW70Zi9zp-M8g2dtSX9KldnpVYPUjbbpIEoEF-fkUcoqY_Lb-s2qJTEZ9B8SCfaScjyQljzTsqn7XQ/s1600/btdr-13-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGyQ3QeWLahzL8v5WNXMm4hn7Ihi7q975goIqFWFPFbK-8t2OE_2vBhfRlHJw_QYW70Zi9zp-M8g2dtSX9KldnpVYPUjbbpIEoEF-fkUcoqY_Lb-s2qJTEZ9B8SCfaScjyQljzTsqn7XQ/s1600/btdr-13-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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“tell me, mister brown asked pablo, “were you ever one of the little people, as you call them, who just do their jobs?”
<p>
“um… not exactly, things didn’t work out that way for me. i wasn’t too good at school. i got especially confused by numbers.”
<p>
“another thing,” mister brown continued, “you blame mister moran for the demise of your beloved gang. what about president capone, for whom mister moran works? don’t you hold him responsible too?”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07yMzRgl5OlVmaQs6uRO6-2YA3e3I4rfRXokJb46za430Qx6x5PzlWnoEyTr96A7c8CKSN205ndbrKCca5QibBxJQSTfdNFsTzB-NJlo43ZNmUzNmMUIoT7s2XvKhTRjyFDUS2KWuNu7z/s1600/btdr-13-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07yMzRgl5OlVmaQs6uRO6-2YA3e3I4rfRXokJb46za430Qx6x5PzlWnoEyTr96A7c8CKSN205ndbrKCca5QibBxJQSTfdNFsTzB-NJlo43ZNmUzNmMUIoT7s2XvKhTRjyFDUS2KWuNu7z/s1600/btdr-13-i.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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“no way! big al didn’t know anything about it! big al is a man of the people! he loves his people! it was all on that rat moran!”
<p>
“i see. or maybe i don’t see. be that as it may, here is the job i have for you.” mister brown reached into the inside pocket of his perfectly tailored coat and took out a small photograph. he pushed it across the booth to pablo. “i want you to follow this person.”
<p>
pablo picked up the photo. it was a picture of the professor, a very clear shot, of the professor standing n the corner waving a copy of the federal -democrat in the air.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpPzG3pzhE7MMLTXTuPQu314cXmc1zF4eiJP9_aQszJ1IUwrB7sZw4h_Bez5aDn1KArp22CX9sK0HsfpvozpvG9Ph6eLCDSolgMMs4ZdO1ki4vQzwZAdDNe9IQ9yXzSKNEjsicJwrImYPG/s1600/btdr-13-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpPzG3pzhE7MMLTXTuPQu314cXmc1zF4eiJP9_aQszJ1IUwrB7sZw4h_Bez5aDn1KArp22CX9sK0HsfpvozpvG9Ph6eLCDSolgMMs4ZdO1ki4vQzwZAdDNe9IQ9yXzSKNEjsicJwrImYPG/s1600/btdr-13-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“he’s just a little kid!” pablo exclaimed. “you want me to follow a little kid?”
<p>
“do you want the job or not?”</font>
<p>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-14-stakeout.html"><font color = "red"> 14. the stakeout </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-77211467130409278002020-09-10T03:26:00.001-07:002020-09-14T14:59:29.940-07:00bad road to the dead river - 12. rutherford b hayes<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
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<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> twelve </font> of thirty-two
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for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-11-man-in-blue.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<font color = "navy">the man in the blue jacket was being led down the corridor to an interrogation room by corelli and a uniformed officer.
<p>
grundy and taft followed.
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grundy tugged taft on his arm and pulled him aside. “you know, lieutenant, the more i think about it the more i think this probably isn’t the guy i talked to.”
<p>
“well, we have him here, we may as well question him,” taft answered, without looking at grundy.
<p>
“do you need me for anything more?’ grundy asked.
<p>
“yes, you id’d him to begin with, we would like you to be here. at least at the beginning.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYk1TjjXVo8h0KWhCtOe-m9Lj_el1RD12cLuNNaDf5KjIzJBexFI1v4zOR4Op78474f0u5eebNHJDBuUZFcQI5opL6MffguOZ4Hk0fU2Li-T_ZIKu_UlYKwYJjLM7wCyYEj2FnRiZ3D7-/s1600/btdr-12-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYk1TjjXVo8h0KWhCtOe-m9Lj_el1RD12cLuNNaDf5KjIzJBexFI1v4zOR4Op78474f0u5eebNHJDBuUZFcQI5opL6MffguOZ4Hk0fU2Li-T_ZIKu_UlYKwYJjLM7wCyYEj2FnRiZ3D7-/s1600/btdr-12-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“oh, all right.”
<p>
“we might not need you for too long,” taft said.
<p>
“you mean if you question the guy all night.”
<p>
“we’ll see.”
<p>
corelli and the uniformed officer and the prisoner entered a room at the end of the hall.
<p>
“let’s catch up, “ taft told grundy.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
corelli, taft, grundy, and the man in the blue jacket were seated companionably around a moderate sized conference table. the uniformed officer who had escorted the man to the room was standing guard outside the door.
<p>
grundy had never taken part in an interrogation before, and corelli only once or twice. taft was an old hand.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu6N6bnM-X-xWfpw3QkxkzzyJOaQn_rIsAEJe0VZ0IhxASBlKfebU5XizwYtKm2yfEj_OPMl8ND3E_NqOACLXxPuMMjDGPED199rEUfT98LR13lrN3OFpG_9_iqxu1KxwD2Uu4EhVoXWW/s1600/btdr-12-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu6N6bnM-X-xWfpw3QkxkzzyJOaQn_rIsAEJe0VZ0IhxASBlKfebU5XizwYtKm2yfEj_OPMl8ND3E_NqOACLXxPuMMjDGPED199rEUfT98LR13lrN3OFpG_9_iqxu1KxwD2Uu4EhVoXWW/s1600/btdr-12-d.gif" data-original-width="360" data-original-height="180" /></a></div>
<br>
the man looked out the window of the interrogation room. the snow had almost stopped, just a few flakes drifted through the air. “this looks different,” he said.
<p>
“different from what? corelli asked him
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXWDuU_Yz3Nekjldr6WRK0Fh_w6DC-fTo6lwZZWi0zT8hz6s5L6-btI8eQLVobPQT6eqzuu7uqIYpQNT4X80YsEs3i0gQA7VDA-ZTdE6hiQPgfsPEX5tQFYtSS3bHo2sPAa6sBCJgN60H/s1600/btdr-12-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXWDuU_Yz3Nekjldr6WRK0Fh_w6DC-fTo6lwZZWi0zT8hz6s5L6-btI8eQLVobPQT6eqzuu7uqIYpQNT4X80YsEs3i0gQA7VDA-ZTdE6hiQPgfsPEX5tQFYtSS3bHo2sPAa6sBCJgN60H/s1600/btdr-12-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“he means different from tv,” said taft. “on tv, the rooms never have windows, it makes them look scary.”
<p>
“that’s right,” the man said.
<p>
“we have nothing to hide,” taft told him. “and everybody likes a nice view. and not to get claustrophobia.”
<p>
“that’s good to know. but i still want a lawyer.”
<p>
“are you sure?” taft asked him. “maybe we can settle this without one.”
<p>
“i think in that case we could have settled it in the street, “ the man said. “by the way, don’t you want to know my name?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP1l15BEUS-LvCAkEWPaDqyyKJl3yoLP7EPL2KgwixB3USoInC1JsYPXCelQAlEYsO8jdbywG-VjQpETwEu5Lj2JFvP2KyIbpbLHuAaMSy-sl62dkP1z4e9OZcu7ZaGd3Rkdz40IwqWYNi/s1600/btdr-12-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP1l15BEUS-LvCAkEWPaDqyyKJl3yoLP7EPL2KgwixB3USoInC1JsYPXCelQAlEYsO8jdbywG-VjQpETwEu5Lj2JFvP2KyIbpbLHuAaMSy-sl62dkP1z4e9OZcu7ZaGd3Rkdz40IwqWYNi/s1600/btdr-12-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
‘we have your phone,” taft told him, and produced it and put it on the table. “it might be locked, but probably not for us. but if you want to tell us, you can.”
<p>
the man hesitated. “my name is rutherford b hayes,” he said.
<p>
“that’s a cool name,” corelli said. “do your friends call you ruthie?”
<p>
“no, they call me gabby.”
<p>
“gabby,” taft repeated. “is that because you talk a lot, have a lot of opinions about things?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz52AOvklAc-BK7jzcMbXx2uGYS07FxduKT-WzFW7MA8HR9s3S2ntIwKqUehXRbBMR0xTGwkdqhNTechmHkzvGkZICb1-1-0JrULiRpUjJDcBsHvHuCctnkmcwc2-OReCcyWarz1T5nbze/s1600/btdr-12-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz52AOvklAc-BK7jzcMbXx2uGYS07FxduKT-WzFW7MA8HR9s3S2ntIwKqUehXRbBMR0xTGwkdqhNTechmHkzvGkZICb1-1-0JrULiRpUjJDcBsHvHuCctnkmcwc2-OReCcyWarz1T5nbze/s1600/btdr-12-i.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
”it’s just a nickname. it doesn’t mean anything.”
<p>
“everything means something ,” taft said.
<p>
“i want a lawyer. that means something.”
<p>
“tell me, gabby,” taft said. “do you have a lawyer? i mean an actual lawyer to call your own, that would be on your contacts on this phone?’
<p>
“i want a lawyer. i want bill johnson.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBVnWiviYHzEmHXmdzNWJRluy__DbslXes06U0kWrWX__Xxx-LcxxpZlDB7KHqSob4Ux9mYd1XKRQjspC84cRvhaZJGzRS2FTqDOyXWbrVDNU1dA6Zh60VQu6oL5VrfLD0fBJWSK50exF/s1600/btdr-12-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBVnWiviYHzEmHXmdzNWJRluy__DbslXes06U0kWrWX__Xxx-LcxxpZlDB7KHqSob4Ux9mYd1XKRQjspC84cRvhaZJGzRS2FTqDOyXWbrVDNU1dA6Zh60VQu6oL5VrfLD0fBJWSK50exF/s1600/btdr-12-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
taft and corelli laughed. bill johnson was the best known lawyer in the city, and world famous.
<p>
“do you have bill johnson on retainer?” taft asked. “he is your lawyer?”
<p>
“well, no, but i still have a right to ask for him.”
<p>
“let me explain,” taft told him. “the rules are a little different with us, from the regular police like you see on tv. if you have a lawyer on retainer, you can summon him, otherwise - you can have a lawyer, but one that we give you. that’s the rule, 890-7f. you could look it up. now, do you still want a lawyer.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvUbnYyL96OhImNsM93HkObziBVa6CbWp5oliOhSKwWAdjzgbyGsDVlhbY1uYRPetsPp4913gXjNM0CIZit0M4QI0UferdTO6QtzIqePhknLouXR5scWxY0C6LvV0tp4e2e2yIiAYozAe/s1600/btdr-12-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvUbnYyL96OhImNsM93HkObziBVa6CbWp5oliOhSKwWAdjzgbyGsDVlhbY1uYRPetsPp4913gXjNM0CIZit0M4QI0UferdTO6QtzIqePhknLouXR5scWxY0C6LvV0tp4e2e2yIiAYozAe/s1600/btdr-12-j.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
‘yes, i do.”
<p>
“all right then.” taft took out his own phone and began sending a message on it.
<p>
“you guys are so friendly,” the man said. “can i have some coffee?’
<p>
“why?” corelli asked him. “you plan on staying up all night?”
<p>
“i drink coffee at all hours. and i would like a bagel, too, or a danish. and can i take my jacket off?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72WJtYMIrhp3MYpiKRzGvFWOjnekWlsEJxgUHZSbXmhmXNrCmuh2LoysMa_IWjzK4hkoQDbLWvd8cGR1APlPskN_gFNemRl3QRUxJCvnMJLbncsMUvk_OVgPzCdl0zMcRO_lpN52dTgYI/s1600/btdr-12-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72WJtYMIrhp3MYpiKRzGvFWOjnekWlsEJxgUHZSbXmhmXNrCmuh2LoysMa_IWjzK4hkoQDbLWvd8cGR1APlPskN_gFNemRl3QRUxJCvnMJLbncsMUvk_OVgPzCdl0zMcRO_lpN52dTgYI/s1600/btdr-12-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“you don’t want much,” corelli said. “you can have all those things,”
<p>
“and a lawyer”
<p>
“i’m working on it,” taft assured him.
<p>
little did taft, or corelli, or grundy, know that they were embarking on what would become an international incident that would change the course of human history.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-13-pablo.html"><font color = "red"> 13. pablo </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-23580765902375704442020-09-09T03:31:00.002-07:002020-09-14T14:57:58.688-07:00bad road to the dead river - 11. the man in blue<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> eleven </font> of twenty-four
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-10-man-with-no.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<center><table bgcolor = "aqua" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKZmdQ9lv2g140tRpwHD0yqDyAjiZCbNxGQw1CbUkXmuiVQDfFhK7N1zJOMDuIOoVos1FwcS0JQdAliF4_ekV8xP_nHLcQeBo_E-mE9pTHlBn6gxzyyUjgf3LAWRYgkRwU2Ob-8frW94b/s1600/btdr-11-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKZmdQ9lv2g140tRpwHD0yqDyAjiZCbNxGQw1CbUkXmuiVQDfFhK7N1zJOMDuIOoVos1FwcS0JQdAliF4_ekV8xP_nHLcQeBo_E-mE9pTHlBn6gxzyyUjgf3LAWRYgkRwU2Ob-8frW94b/s1600/btdr-11-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">traffic got a little heavier as they approached downtown and the park.
<p>
It was easy to look at the people walking by.
<p>
“there is a guy with a blue jacket,” taft said, pointing to a man on the right sidewalk, with his back to the passengers in the car. “is that him?”
<p>
“he could be,” grundy answered. “i can’t see his face..”
<p>
“pull over,” taft ordered roselli.
<p>
roselli moved up and pulled over to a spot about ten yards ahead of the man in the blue jacket.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOY7zgzWA01pY_GCwa7NRkoNOIjKXAYF0Q6JD5AiQJMF4zGLdD43XvOAiCZv0bA00uQ9yCNSBhaXY6EienFUhhDWN7dc2CNaWkhDfJ6tJ2n0JXJy2Np8LdWsEmH7rAxUZeKVT9ek6E6uS9/s1600/btdr-11-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOY7zgzWA01pY_GCwa7NRkoNOIjKXAYF0Q6JD5AiQJMF4zGLdD43XvOAiCZv0bA00uQ9yCNSBhaXY6EienFUhhDWN7dc2CNaWkhDfJ6tJ2n0JXJy2Np8LdWsEmH7rAxUZeKVT9ek6E6uS9/s1600/btdr-11-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
taft got out of the car. he told grundy to get out too.
<p>
the man in the blue jacket approached, apparently oblivious to taft who had stepped out on to the sidewalk.
<p>
“excuse me, sir,” taft said to the man.
<p>
“yeah?’ the man stopped.
<p>
taft showed him his i d. “i am from the secret service.”
<p>
“so? what’s that got to do with me?” seen close up, the man was “just a guy”, about thirty years old, with short hair and brown eyes and no distinguishing characteristics.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZC_Eo6iKPezWNBoCwta_7ViVzm23EDP8wIbuGuX96Cde5ztZ0APfq9cNcxCGmhQ7PIernNBLNYn_SxPd0f3LzfmbcQl9jLYlIRtNH8rESEFPBDiU66IJMeBfB_nXfGMkzqA7AxYeB5t0/s1600/btdr-11-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZC_Eo6iKPezWNBoCwta_7ViVzm23EDP8wIbuGuX96Cde5ztZ0APfq9cNcxCGmhQ7PIernNBLNYn_SxPd0f3LzfmbcQl9jLYlIRtNH8rESEFPBDiU66IJMeBfB_nXfGMkzqA7AxYeB5t0/s1600/btdr-11-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
grundy had kept behind taft. taft turned to him. “is this the guy?”
<p>
“um - he might be. i didn’t really get a good look at him.”
<p>
“didn’t get a good look at him! didn’t you talk to him?”
<p>
“well, i was, uh, trying not to look at him, you know, you know how you do with bums, you just want to get past them.”
<p>
“who are you calling a bum, little man?” the man in the blue jacket showed a little annoyance for the first time.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64d2ig9qt4IMLsH013xtH9ne3edRtf-dWfhYNjTZHbwUCD8Apu_4oDJBrJyWu3NHcTp_2waP7Bsq5O5maa4d4HoXIjqzvux9cmdfl2ArQfbaatDgOhGn1pLHVOKpa1cvxoFbKSSEErYY7/s1600/btdr-11-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64d2ig9qt4IMLsH013xtH9ne3edRtf-dWfhYNjTZHbwUCD8Apu_4oDJBrJyWu3NHcTp_2waP7Bsq5O5maa4d4HoXIjqzvux9cmdfl2ArQfbaatDgOhGn1pLHVOKpa1cvxoFbKSSEErYY7/s1600/btdr-11-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i was just saying,” grundy said. “in a manner of speaking.”
<p>
taft was annoyed too. “can you say for sure it isn’t him?” he asked grundy.
<p>
“no, i can’t say for sure it isn’t him.”
<p>
“all right, get in the car,” taft told the man.
<p>
“what! i didn’t do anything! i got my rights! “ the man looked at grundy. “i never seen - “
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6KR-SJWlx0KBZ0Z-nN2fAm0ewvADQUlgCkplC8MbEqQj3-YEh5FMHK0jXr4d1Bhs7GsRZYEtJ3_I5zIsPU0Hy4hZ-3FPdTZdotFbN9QKZFuF0YADTYawg6FiPpzq3nBX04kXQ3e05uj9/s1600/btdr-11-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6KR-SJWlx0KBZ0Z-nN2fAm0ewvADQUlgCkplC8MbEqQj3-YEh5FMHK0jXr4d1Bhs7GsRZYEtJ3_I5zIsPU0Hy4hZ-3FPdTZdotFbN9QKZFuF0YADTYawg6FiPpzq3nBX04kXQ3e05uj9/s1600/btdr-11-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes?” taft asked him. “you never seen what?’
<p>
“i was going to say i never seen this little guy before but maybe i have .”
<p>
“oh? where?” taft asked.
<p>
“selling newspapers. on the street. down by - down by somewhere - i don’t know - “
<p>
“it looks like nobody knows much of anything,” said taft. “just come along, and we will figure out what everybody knows.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWEumho9UXHOvrYwkhfUkPvfTkrF3KQW8BgmXmnPVFzC_jChbnXEqgmdtXii68miB2Wjh57aupJl-LbCp2cUumqbzZc9hBFAuU_6T4-TZuINeNotOVVW13WRQpz6-vtcYzXoxPIdCLPrD/s1600/btdr-11-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWEumho9UXHOvrYwkhfUkPvfTkrF3KQW8BgmXmnPVFzC_jChbnXEqgmdtXii68miB2Wjh57aupJl-LbCp2cUumqbzZc9hBFAuU_6T4-TZuINeNotOVVW13WRQpz6-vtcYzXoxPIdCLPrD/s1600/btdr-11-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
the man in the blue jacket looked around. nobody in the street had stopped to watch the encounter. everybody who had approached them had picked up their pace until they were well past them.
<p>
“this is crazy. i got my rights,” he repeated.
<p>
“we know all about your rights. you don’t have to say anything right now. just get in the car, ” taft told him.
<p>
with a classic “last despairing glance” the man followed taft into the car.
<p>
“keep your hands where i can see them,” taft warned him. he pulled his coat back to show his holster. “we don’t want to have to cuff you.”
<p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkU-9pWvoLKyocZaC_HvTN3ZuPWSPx73x2coemicM1gIf0XwkFquEt2IsEU7RjHcwYcvN9ADv4VXB-rSJWcEAMQeRwdISu6RcDS4AD7T029_d1PjXnBx1wcDmslCtDzmPcW2WqFyP2IJlA/s1600/btdr-11-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkU-9pWvoLKyocZaC_HvTN3ZuPWSPx73x2coemicM1gIf0XwkFquEt2IsEU7RjHcwYcvN9ADv4VXB-rSJWcEAMQeRwdISu6RcDS4AD7T029_d1PjXnBx1wcDmslCtDzmPcW2WqFyP2IJlA/s1600/btdr-11-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
roselli started the car. he looked at the man in the rear view mirror. “ he fits the description anyway.” he said. “he looks like just a guy.”</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-12-rutherford-b.html"><font color = "red"> 12. rutherford b hayes </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-42895911195298991792020-09-08T02:59:00.001-07:002020-09-09T03:35:10.961-07:00bad road to the dead river - 10. the man with no hat<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> ten </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-9-grundy.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXh6_phQT3TbhVQjDiqjbLbDdH88kJ6MDDN-GOoc3v3kV7x8PvhyZbiuaR3x2PHQDJ4NDJcYYVcFGVA3M1BPDQTrCZTWc3qCkfjt6sgOIN_Y0tJ9BBjJ0Ha2P8Cm18q1a4fmN259QNaCz/s1600/btdr-10-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXh6_phQT3TbhVQjDiqjbLbDdH88kJ6MDDN-GOoc3v3kV7x8PvhyZbiuaR3x2PHQDJ4NDJcYYVcFGVA3M1BPDQTrCZTWc3qCkfjt6sgOIN_Y0tJ9BBjJ0Ha2P8Cm18q1a4fmN259QNaCz/s1600/btdr-10-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">“a minute for what?’ grundy asked.
<p>
“just to hear a poor man’s story.”
<p>
“i just read a story in a magazine. it was pretty good. i don’t need to hear another one right now. now, if you will excuse me - “
<p>
“aw, don’t be that way.. you are a secret service man, aren’t you ?”
<p>
“are you kidding? do I look like a secret service man?”
<p>
the man hesitated. “all right. I was just asking.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RvB-EmQLgJr6-8vnDj9jBd7YhUIOHbR3WftmL9qK9dzECPk3gpG03_iOWZUx2A2G6i9mCo7Z-4A0okS4ld3TvbJZFY7IhUvxPMrw3SJE9JsEzt1EzyJwD0tvNTpK-vfxln5tSdqnAGPV/s1600/btdr-10-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RvB-EmQLgJr6-8vnDj9jBd7YhUIOHbR3WftmL9qK9dzECPk3gpG03_iOWZUx2A2G6i9mCo7Z-4A0okS4ld3TvbJZFY7IhUvxPMrw3SJE9JsEzt1EzyJwD0tvNTpK-vfxln5tSdqnAGPV/s1600/btdr-10-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
when he got inside the flower shop, grundy wondered if the guy’s approaching him was a test, to see if he would report it? the more he thought about it, what else could it be?
<p>
and should he call and report it “right away” or could it wait until he reported back the next day? if it was a test, it was probably a test to see if he would indeed report it “right away.”
<p>
while mrs carlton selected and wrapped the flowers for his mother, grundy, with a sigh, took out his phone and called the service “code white” hotline and left a message describing his encounter.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9fuO2jwaJV6ZSliBqELJpVd4mMWHbtcttL1vs16CuYpME4Ihs2QaiC8tpa7rVZpdCg8cUjvoMbekHowENOUB3ZaravZMyQ1LHyC0VMdoyoi9CtWorD3WmJcfjmj5S0F-O_Kjv_hqpxtY2/s1600/btdr-10-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9fuO2jwaJV6ZSliBqELJpVd4mMWHbtcttL1vs16CuYpME4Ihs2QaiC8tpa7rVZpdCg8cUjvoMbekHowENOUB3ZaravZMyQ1LHyC0VMdoyoi9CtWorD3WmJcfjmj5S0F-O_Kjv_hqpxtY2/s1600/btdr-10-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
he hoped they were happy now.
<p>
but when he got back outside in the street with the flowers, the phone rang in his pocket.
<p>
it was lieutenant taft. he sounded excited, boy scout excited. grundy repeated his message. taft asked him some questions, but grundy did not have anything much to add.
<p>
“how long ago was this?” taft asked.
<p>
“five minutes, ten minutes.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6BESchqeSrQI34DIjzCyiATgMUoE2DM7OLzl9E0IUZEaTBTPtxULWuYI6RvHwhgM8jXYxXTAhyphenhyphenN5nZIPatGBOrMFwW8Dt8fLBk3tjMJE3U8RurX69c1UFezyKPm_g1GTWlh0UNl8sgkt/s1600/btdr-10-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6BESchqeSrQI34DIjzCyiATgMUoE2DM7OLzl9E0IUZEaTBTPtxULWuYI6RvHwhgM8jXYxXTAhyphenhyphenN5nZIPatGBOrMFwW8Dt8fLBk3tjMJE3U8RurX69c1UFezyKPm_g1GTWlh0UNl8sgkt/s1600/btdr-10-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“you did right to report this, grundy, but maybe you should have engaged this individual in conversation, got some details in what he wanted.”
<p>
“what! nobody said anything about that,” grundy protested. “just to report if anybody asked questions.”
<p>
“it was just a suggestion,” taft said. “listen, he can’t have gotten very far away.”
<p>
“he could if he had a space ship. or a teleport device.”
<p>
“stay where you are,” taft said. “i will be right over, and we will try to pick up his trail.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEZLZTCut1aiF3-fhc2vLz4dMbWeqJCxXMdff-cz7ksMPubDr_bkRXznj25E1ot_JObNdAUHMNpIveSfpk-P-nDnw3j2-xxDnCL1W0A-q2aJwucjft6eVWPY95wCXb8zqZ0KzALXwa39b/s1600/btdr-10-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEZLZTCut1aiF3-fhc2vLz4dMbWeqJCxXMdff-cz7ksMPubDr_bkRXznj25E1ot_JObNdAUHMNpIveSfpk-P-nDnw3j2-xxDnCL1W0A-q2aJwucjft6eVWPY95wCXb8zqZ0KzALXwa39b/s1600/btdr-10-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i am only three doors from my apartment. i have to drop something off, pick me up in front of my apartment.” grundy signed off before taft could answer.
<p>
what a monumental drag the service could be. at times like this grundy wished he was back working at ray’s ten cent store.
<p>
when the phone did not buzz back right away, he headed for the apartment to give his mother her flowers.
<p>
who knew who or what taft would bring with him? he would rather not be picked up carrying the bouquet of flowers.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL4lAxpEeWHZam5_wl6VZYT81fYHNUzLP5F2gcQTfvpuLgZfsy2Vd7BCxh7HQNeYeKSCwuSpMh3276MzA5IQJRPTTXi72wRCt6BxnCwIUkOSIxYz0Cm_dnfBeTKqWJ_s_WFnEdjIU1nOn/s1600/btdr-10-f-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL4lAxpEeWHZam5_wl6VZYT81fYHNUzLP5F2gcQTfvpuLgZfsy2Vd7BCxh7HQNeYeKSCwuSpMh3276MzA5IQJRPTTXi72wRCt6BxnCwIUkOSIxYz0Cm_dnfBeTKqWJ_s_WFnEdjIU1nOn/s1600/btdr-10-f-alt.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
roselli was driving the unmarked car, with taft in the back seat. grundy was relieved it was not hogan driving.
<p>
grundy got in the front beside roselli. “which way did the fellow go?” taft asked, without preliminaries.
<p>
“um - left, i think. toward the park.”
<p>
ros<p>elli made a u turn and headed for the park.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtGg5kDNfT-1BFTL6MfGA79t8YTgB3JOUfMfVedRR6ooRskUMwiRXkj9pbpTtl1kOSSonB_QgLibLkdu3MXb_B4T2EA3btiV7wImWvZQgXvkPUNpZAS7L7g4rekIoHUHMsps383WVFwiG/s1600/btdr-10-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtGg5kDNfT-1BFTL6MfGA79t8YTgB3JOUfMfVedRR6ooRskUMwiRXkj9pbpTtl1kOSSonB_QgLibLkdu3MXb_B4T2EA3btiV7wImWvZQgXvkPUNpZAS7L7g4rekIoHUHMsps383WVFwiG/s1600/btdr-10-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“what did he look like ?” taft asked.
<p>
“nothing much. just a guy.”
<p>
“yes, he would look like that,” taft muttered. beside grundy, roselli laughed.
<p>
‘what was he wearing?’ taft continued.
<p>
“probably just clothes,” roselli said.
<p>
“he was wearing a jacket, “ said grundy. “i think it was blue - dark blue.”
<p>
“was he was wearing a hat?”
<p>
“i don’t think so.”
<p>
“it’s hard to spot a guy with no hat,” roselli said.</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBRn_YtgYSr2ejUnAzYlictVjVoFVNeVAJU1DFz2TY_UGDbff6y4LfKCjVzg775461YYGaP8FPEDSy4RM-NddghE75c0ZrLqMsxpZmdC-ZTUSmTJtMJ1K86Hjg16eV82eVjnmVaIlI2M6/s1600/btdr-10-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBRn_YtgYSr2ejUnAzYlictVjVoFVNeVAJU1DFz2TY_UGDbff6y4LfKCjVzg775461YYGaP8FPEDSy4RM-NddghE75c0ZrLqMsxpZmdC-ZTUSmTJtMJ1K86Hjg16eV82eVjnmVaIlI2M6/s1600/btdr-10-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
<p>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-11-man-in-blue.html"><font color = "red"> 11. the msn in blue </font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>nick nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878965709630967783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-66502069046332064972020-09-07T02:18:00.001-07:002020-09-08T03:02:20.498-07:00bad road to the dead river - 9. grundy<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
<br>
<br>
<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> nine </font> of thirty-two
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-8-mister-green.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsplhUxx5M6QO_3YAI1j1b_wmkDCllFd4dzcVfRzi_j4tG6e9AHXlvTsvG6-BWsFjYSus-ho_mR0ZlqlRaiql8mDpVW5vPXiybwUAs4Tvz2mCOlAFZnCpNYaffmUyUUk4oFHavRgJA1XI/s1600/btdr-8-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsplhUxx5M6QO_3YAI1j1b_wmkDCllFd4dzcVfRzi_j4tG6e9AHXlvTsvG6-BWsFjYSus-ho_mR0ZlqlRaiql8mDpVW5vPXiybwUAs4Tvz2mCOlAFZnCpNYaffmUyUUk4oFHavRgJA1XI/s1600/btdr-8-a.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">extry! extry! read all about it!”
<p>
hogan, the biggest and dumbest seret service man in the detail, was giving grundy, the dwarf, the business, about grundy’s stint taking the professor’s place selling newspapers when the professor had been secretly escorted to his meeting with secretary of state wilson.
<p>
grundy, lying on his bunk in the secret service barracks, ignored him and flipped the page pf his copy of thrilling detective super stories.
<p>
“so did you meet any interesting people when you were selling those papers?” hogan asked.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMLEOXhlBC5M8NyNcaScfZt9LWrpk00P3vD9xq1BibmoTx9rUlD3vbCZTCATmeT00g1cEUE6xjl6znHdjNFJx5VD_i2O1rXgRmVzKcj9HFkYdNgXoCcJ917QxkY_6UsPTDKPDVyGOptCN/s1600/btdr-8-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMLEOXhlBC5M8NyNcaScfZt9LWrpk00P3vD9xq1BibmoTx9rUlD3vbCZTCATmeT00g1cEUE6xjl6znHdjNFJx5VD_i2O1rXgRmVzKcj9HFkYdNgXoCcJ917QxkY_6UsPTDKPDVyGOptCN/s1600/btdr-8-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“no, they were all in a hurry to get out of the snow,” grundy replied evenly.
<p>
“meet any hot dames?”
<p>
‘hard to say, everybody was bundled up.”
<p>
hogan laughed. “maybe you can’t tell a hot dame no matter what she’s wearing, but i can,” he said.
<p>
“give it a rest, hogan, “ donaldson, a corporal and the ranking member of the detail in the room, said from his bunk in the corner.
<p>
“is that an order, general?” hogan sneered.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31OMKkr3pjcL6g5mkR3ZhyphenhyphenYbek3sgo5pT94YN8OiXvB-BW_zQOQgLyKEPMS5yQHZsuyspG8OEjhYn606T2VejazV2G-1Vk1PcBKtee8dImFweBTopbKoKcWycpAxagEYM7geiG-R0bpcL/s1600/btdr-8-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31OMKkr3pjcL6g5mkR3ZhyphenhyphenYbek3sgo5pT94YN8OiXvB-BW_zQOQgLyKEPMS5yQHZsuyspG8OEjhYn606T2VejazV2G-1Vk1PcBKtee8dImFweBTopbKoKcWycpAxagEYM7geiG-R0bpcL/s1600/btdr-8-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“just a friendly suggestion,” donaldson replied. “some people here might like a little peace and quiet, that’s all.”
<p>
“peace and quiet?” adams, the oldest and quietest member of the group put in. he was lying on his bunk, reading volume 4 of grote’s history of greece. “there’s a little too much quiet if you ask me. always a bad sign.” adams was inclined to make strange, cryptic comments occasionally.
<p>
donaldson laughed. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
<p>
“it means,” adams started to say in a serious voice -
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINwIlcWxSSUU3KHcNtMSU_3PIR0GsE47BpLcuuxZjp9rviL4ltGKlRCmdy4lzM195Q1uotPEXVkqNcG_fsbuZ4UTiEAyzPCY9ttmwFX3zM76jzD91PDzAsq3xbWoBtVeztxttKecYnLey/s1600/btdr-8-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINwIlcWxSSUU3KHcNtMSU_3PIR0GsE47BpLcuuxZjp9rviL4ltGKlRCmdy4lzM195Q1uotPEXVkqNcG_fsbuZ4UTiEAyzPCY9ttmwFX3zM76jzD91PDzAsq3xbWoBtVeztxttKecYnLey/s1600/btdr-8-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>'
but just then the door opened and lieutenant taft, the detail leader entered. taft was younger and better looking than any of his charges, a college boy from princeton, and nobody liked him much.
<p>
“the captain wants to see you, hogan,” he announced.
<p>
“yes, lieutenant.” hogan shrugged, and without looking at any of the others, left the room. he might have asked lieutenant mcgregor, taft’s predecessor and a regular guy that everybody liked, if he knew what the captain wanted, but he knew better than to ask taft.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZYcRWr4uI5B0nlFJGW0CDvfLN-7WGYsYyvXjW5z6UIqhXu-ciU5xor3dsfuXd_84Gv9_K7BN8jCFJ-hp34wm8evT69EGEkZXxtoS975ejDNNxqf4Uunt-Xa7cL08ona8JGZjHQxMHFCg/s1600/btdr-8-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZYcRWr4uI5B0nlFJGW0CDvfLN-7WGYsYyvXjW5z6UIqhXu-ciU5xor3dsfuXd_84Gv9_K7BN8jCFJ-hp34wm8evT69EGEkZXxtoS975ejDNNxqf4Uunt-Xa7cL08ona8JGZjHQxMHFCg/s1600/btdr-8-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“and you, grundy,” the lieutenant addressed the dwarf, “captain says you are relieved. just be sure to be back here by seven o’clock because there might be another special assignment for ypu.”
<p>
“yes, lieutenant.” grundy swung himself off his bunk. there was nothing remarkable about taft’s message. grundy was on the squad mostly for special assignments, usually getting into small spaces, or sometimes, as the night before, impersonating a child.
<p>
lieutenant taft cleared his throat. “before you go, grundy, i have a message from all of you from the captain, and from the director. you might as well stay to hear it.”
<p>
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<br>
“yes, sir.”
<p>
the lieutenant scanned the room. “the message is this. it has come to the director’s attention that a significant number of instances have been reported where unauthorized persons, almost always compete strangers to the agents, have tried to engage off duty agents in so-called casual conversations, which casual conversations turn to matters of national security and even to the agent’s own assignments. needless to say, these conversations are discouraged in the most uncertain terms, and it also to be stated in the same terms that such conversations be reported immediately.”
<p>
“i think we all knew that, sir,” donaldson said.
<p>
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<br>
“of course you dd, i am only repeating the captain’s message. he was especially insistent on reporting such incidents immediately.
<p>
“immediately with a capital “i”, roselli, the squad wiseguy, said.
<p>
“exactly. that is all. you can go now, grundy.”
<p>
the lieutenant left, and grundy got his coat and hat and followed him.
<p>
<center>*</center>
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<br>
snow was still falling, but lightly, when grundy got down to the street. he headed uptown to the small flat he shared with his widowed mother.
<p>
he decided to stop and buy his mother some flowers, at mrs carlton’s flower shop. mrs carlton always
had a friendly word for him.
<p>
just as he approached the flower shop a man stepped out of a doorway.
<p>
“hey, pal, you got a minute?” the man asked grundy.</font>
<p>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-10-man-with-no.html"><font color = "red"> 10. the msn with no hat </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507140897883272478.post-12782286384409313892020-09-06T04:28:00.001-07:002020-09-07T02:21:15.993-07:00bad road to the dead river - 8. mister green<br>
<font color = "navy"> by nick nelson</font>
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<font color = "black">part <font color = "red"> eight </font> of thirty-two
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for previous episode, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-7-moran.html"><font color = "red">here</font> </a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/08/bad-road-to-dead-river-0-prologue.html"><font color = "blue">here</font> </a></font>
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<br>
<font color = "navy">sharkey escorted mister green into moran’s office. then sharkey, without having met moran’s eyes, left and closed the door behind him.
<p>
moran saw that mister green did indeed “dress nice” as sharkey had said. moran did not usually notice such things, and might not have if sharkey had not mentioned it.
<p>
mister green looked like an ad for men’s suits in the newspaper. he had a nice tan and showed shiny white teeth when he said “good aternoon , mister moran.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AQuS7LdCS82gxuoNS_deB3RWkt3vesTAX89uvwIEHhgVto9KNx1TJ0uaPF4O-Sqaeh5vOBgPyHH8-MVj1NIvdyeSbkyUJV8OKPBWrLo9vCdktC2jReqHvTCUIgjBZmd_FxI8g_Fl7ffV/s1600/btdr-8-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AQuS7LdCS82gxuoNS_deB3RWkt3vesTAX89uvwIEHhgVto9KNx1TJ0uaPF4O-Sqaeh5vOBgPyHH8-MVj1NIvdyeSbkyUJV8OKPBWrLo9vCdktC2jReqHvTCUIgjBZmd_FxI8g_Fl7ffV/s1600/btdr-8-b.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
“good afternoon to you.”
<p>
mister green looked at the chair in front of moran’s desk. “do you mind if i sit down?.”
<p>
“be my guest, but say what you have to say.”
<p>
mister green seated himself, “i understand you have the ear of president capone.”
<p>
“you might say that, i have seen him just about every day for twenty-three years. if you have something to say, say it. if i think it’s worth passing on to al, i will do it. you have three minutes.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_ob_MvSTq_Z3jRRIUpUkNvE3wAvsePOyj6-cKOyzWE8PGUSmKb4Bewg2aVv_3p7kVhx0EgmdEo9U2HeaehMOJhthNnZo8J0dQPraIJJFPWIhaMni64a3vDKrFuAhrAVHBNvlnQGIqZVC/s1600/btdr-8-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_ob_MvSTq_Z3jRRIUpUkNvE3wAvsePOyj6-cKOyzWE8PGUSmKb4Bewg2aVv_3p7kVhx0EgmdEo9U2HeaehMOJhthNnZo8J0dQPraIJJFPWIhaMni64a3vDKrFuAhrAVHBNvlnQGIqZVC/s1600/btdr-8-c.gif" data-original-width="200" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
“to be sure, i represent the rulers of what for your purposes we will call the avar empire from the sculptor dwarf galaxy,”
<p>
moran had never heard of the sculptor dwarf galaxy, and just nodded.
<p>
“at least three empires of the galaxy have targeted this most fecund and delightful planet, for purposes it might be difficult to describe to you. there is certain to be competition between the three…”
<p>
“why don’t you try?” moran interrupted.
<p>
“excuse me?”
<p>
“why don’t you try to explain what you want from this whatever and delightful planet? i think it might help.“
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYoS_V1dgDPU2Tkbp9zGmSeiE9uFCgbxi5g6v7kNIHYHHQ0dP-WW9Sg8qogsMW3HNVDimHs7L23vyqpuNf4dO2U8TweP-oW1Ze-wKX2_dBPu3-9F682LN_W4IL3U1Z2ko25Sd-35cwAGGQ/s1600/btdr-8-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYoS_V1dgDPU2Tkbp9zGmSeiE9uFCgbxi5g6v7kNIHYHHQ0dP-WW9Sg8qogsMW3HNVDimHs7L23vyqpuNf4dO2U8TweP-oW1Ze-wKX2_dBPu3-9F682LN_W4IL3U1Z2ko25Sd-35cwAGGQ/s1600/btdr-8-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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“the inhabitants of our galaxy are interested in a substance which exists in abundance on this planet.”
<p>
“which is what? people? we have plenty of people. you want slaves, is that what you want ?”
<p>
“good gracious, no, that is the last thing we would want. if we wanted slaves, we could just make some.”’
<p>
“what do you want then? oil? gold? soybeans? cockroaches?”
<p>
“no, no, what we want is a substance that the inhabitants of your planet have no use for and don’t even know exists.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMgldsF02py89-OoAaPhIFVZwaU1ajPs4-CQa_4KqbMw05HW1jvAupvOw8kY9Twlo9KpcF2-Z1hRTOsJixGu0y0l5pcDQQKhiGgB3CqQ9hA2d7oKOEC2RKpgaj75y65iqPOHArxiNUGxW/s1600/btdr-8-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMgldsF02py89-OoAaPhIFVZwaU1ajPs4-CQa_4KqbMw05HW1jvAupvOw8kY9Twlo9KpcF2-Z1hRTOsJixGu0y0l5pcDQQKhiGgB3CqQ9hA2d7oKOEC2RKpgaj75y65iqPOHArxiNUGxW/s1600/btdr-8-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
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moran considerred this. “and is this wonderful stuff in any particular place? or all over?
<p>
“most of it is far beneath what you call the pacific ocean. ”
<p>
“oh! well in that case, you don’t want to talk to al, you want nancy nan, of the pacific empire.”
<p>
“our understanding, which might be imperfect, is that the oceans beyond certain limits are not part of any of the seven empires.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbw50daD8vrHtGh2zb4lrUViWczKSaCaKinAyTplxyCn_bJAvpAIoAQ0G3sRwq2c5NdVABIsrmnsKndCQQtIcPHezBhcCIsW9guUEoNEIEH6A09U0PxZZySO07PHbx3NJfMvvCSVcVCc71/s1600/btdr-8-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbw50daD8vrHtGh2zb4lrUViWczKSaCaKinAyTplxyCn_bJAvpAIoAQ0G3sRwq2c5NdVABIsrmnsKndCQQtIcPHezBhcCIsW9guUEoNEIEH6A09U0PxZZySO07PHbx3NJfMvvCSVcVCc71/s1600/btdr-8-f.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
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“maybe. i think you want to talk to mister woodrow wilson, he is secretary of state, what you might call call the international guy. i’m more the local guy, keeping the lid on things, as it were.”
<p>
“we have been attempting to contact mister wilson.”
<p>
“maybe you should keep trying. that is all i have to say on the subject.”
<p>
“i thank you for your time, mister moran. i hope you will find your way to at least mentioning my little visit to mister capone.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cSXJG2Arf3T9JUZbkwO-WyYb0Uxckm-oSISltSYkhYOt6FCpccT2T5xikV0szqnjdMr61BMf0r13DX1Kbz9sb4hObXTbLd-OIETAqPVsNdpbu_brVb4ZOhhedd_drBJxt3F19H5xrsRo/s1600/btdr-8-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cSXJG2Arf3T9JUZbkwO-WyYb0Uxckm-oSISltSYkhYOt6FCpccT2T5xikV0szqnjdMr61BMf0r13DX1Kbz9sb4hObXTbLd-OIETAqPVsNdpbu_brVb4ZOhhedd_drBJxt3F19H5xrsRo/s1600/btdr-8-g.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“i might. if i think of it.”
<p>
“then i thank you again.” mister green stood up.
<p>
“just one little thing, pal, before you go.”
<p>
“yes?”
<p>
“you talk about the so-called seven empires as if they were all equal. that is a mistake. there is only one that counts, and that is america, the greatest country in the world, the greatest that ever was or will be. you got that?”
<p>
“i will keep it in mind.” mister green managed a smile.</font>
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<center><a href = "https://facelesswanderer7.blogspot.com/2020/09/bad-road-to-dead-river-9-grundy.html"><font color = "red"> 9. grundy</font></a></center>
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</td></tr></table>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0