SPACE AGENT
By; Speaker Gerald A. Polley
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
"Acquire His Assistance!"
Donald Eldrige was a Federal Agent that fit his locale to a "T". He was tall, muscular and blonde, just the thing for a southern resort area. He usually dealt with fraud and once and a while, counter espionage. But the phone call he had just gotten seemed like something out of a science fiction story. He had gathered three agents and rushed to a local hotel. His instructions were to obtain the assistance of a man working there in as friendly a manner as possible, without delving too much into the man's history or affairs.
They came to a halt by the kitchen door and Agent Eldridge got out, positioning his men by hand signals.
He entered the door and looked around the busy kitchen. A cook approached him. "Sorry sir," he announced, "no one is allowed back here without permission."
"I'm sorry," the agent replied, "but it's an emergency. I have to speak to someone called The Reverend, right away."
The cook looked him up and down. "You're not going to cause the Reverend any trouble are you?" the cook asked in a rather course manner.
"No," the agent assured him, "it's just vitally important I speak with him."
The cook went to an intercom. "Hey, Johnny," he called, "There's somebody back here looking for the Reverend. I think he's a cop. Shall I send him through?"
"Yeah!" a gruff voice answered.
"Straight through," the cook pointed. "The maitre d' will take you to him."
The agent made his way through the kitchen, entered the dining room and a bear of a man approached him. "This way," he growled. He led the agent to a second level and into a ladies' rest room that had a barricade across the door.
"Hey Reverend!" the huge man cried, "Somebody looking for you. Cop of some kind. Want me to stay?"
"No problem, Benjamin," came a voice from one of the stalls. "Leave him."
The huge man gave the agent one more look and then walked off. When the door closed behind him the agent made his way to the booth out of which a pair of legs was sticking. The man inside was tightening a fitting under the toilet.
"What can I do for you, young man?" the man asked.
The young man licked his lips. "Are you The Reverend?" he asked.
"Who sent you?" the man questioned, "Green or Parks?"
"Green, sir," the agent answered.
"Then you're bureau," the man continued.
"Yes, sir," the agent acknowledged.
"Well, this is something new. You boys still consider me the subversive type?"
"Ah....no, sir," the agent stammered. "There's a problem, sir, in Wyoming. Some of your friends, sir, dropped in for a visit; real hard, sir. Washington would appreciate your help. They would be glad to evacuate the area if your friends wish to make a pick up."
The man finished what he was doing, sat up and turned a valve. The loud noise of the toilet filling seemed to take his entire interest. When the noise stopped he flushed it then began to gather up his tools. "Not a prayer, son," he finally said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He made his way from the rest room, took down the barricade, and began to carry it, and, his tools, toward an elevator.
"Look, sir," the agent pleaded, "I know you keep a low profile. You don't much care for the government and certain parts of the government doesn't much care for you. But we've got some real scared people out there. There's no sign of life from this thing. They're afraid it's going to go BOOM or something. It's slightly radioactive. They don't know what else it might be. Give us a break, will you, sir?"
The older man stared at the agent, then nodded his head. "I can't do much in here," he exclaimed, "too much interference from the fluorescent lights, and electronic gizmos."
They exited the elevator in a corridor off the kitchen. The man put his equipment in a room marked , maintenanc, stuck his head in the kitchen to tell the cook he was taking a break, then went out through another door. One of the other agents greeted him. But with a wave of Eldridge's hand the man gave way.
The Reverend made his way to a park like area a little ways from the main building, sat down on a gaudy modern sculpture, and closed his eyes. The two agents stood by nervously for several minutes. When the Reverend opened his eyes again, they had taken on a steel cold nature.
"You've got troubles son, all right," he announced, "but it's more trouble than anybody in this world could ever want."