Doesn't Really Matter

56.

“I trust that you are enjoying the flip side,” TOM opens with a touch more glibness than I had been expecting. 

“Readiness is next to Godliness, sir,” I return.

“Yes, well, an interesting option has come up, one over which I am at the proverbial decision making crossroads.” I find his admission both interesting and perplexing. If there is anyone more adept in the process of problem solving and making correct 3D chess moves, I have yet to sit across the checkerboard from them. I allow a pause to indicate my concern. Sensing this he continues.

“It seems that the raid on The Axis stronghold is still paying a return on your team's investment of valor. The cabal of high school computer wizards, capable of hacking into one of the most secure firewalls in the world and jacking a pair of million dollar Phantoms, each carrying enough firepower to cripple the entire West Coast, have been learning a few important lessons while in maximum security juvenile detention.” 

TOM has my complete attention as I hear the ambient background merriment fade, replaced with a sharp focus on this new backstory, the present reality and the future possibility. TOM continues. 

“It seems that your kill shot was short of the intended result. The cell commander survived and is now wanting to talk.” I mentally gasp at this update. I have never missed from that range. I am replaying the tape as TOM announces;

“Perhaps even more important is the fact that one of the teen-age hackers has apparently had enough of detention and is also ready to talk. I don’t think I need to say anything further about what a gold-mine this could be.” TOM says. 

“You will recall that at the time of the run-in with the old man and his pickup, Team Six was en-route to a rendezvous with the cell on the mission of inserting Saunders into deep cover.” My mind is whirling like a spinning top at this intel and I can feel my heart rate and senses increase their alert rate.

“We have a choice in our play here,” TOM announces, out of character, in an almost pleading tone suggesting that he might entertain, for once, my input. 

“Saunders is nowhere near ready for an assignment like that,” I offer, “she is making rapid progress with PT, but way too dangerous, in my opinion, sir,” I try, testing the waters. 

“I wasn’t considering Saunders,” he says, “The kid, apparently, will only talk to you.”

“Me? Why me?”

“If I knew the answer to that you would be in check.” TOM says, finally sounding like his familiar, always-in-control self. “Get to the strip, get out there and see what you can extract from the kid. He knows who you are and might be willing to play a supporting role in his salvation by flipping on The Axis, who we now suspect are back at their nefarious terrorism activities.” 

“Roger on that, sir.”

I press the end call icon and look upwards into a bright cobalt blue sky, already working the game plan. I hear a seagull screech and the final refrain from the outdoor speakers, “I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.”