Hampered in His Plans Ch. 01

Part 5 - Family, Friends, and Football

Saturday, January 2d. Cindy and Molly hugged their parents goodbye at City Airport, then watched them go through the line and into the terminal. Then Cindy checked the arrivals.

"Jenna's plane won't be here for two more hours." Cindy said. "Want to get lunch?"

"Sure." said Molly. "As long as it's pizza." Fortunately, the Airport had a good California Pizza Kitchen, and soon the two hungry sisters were wolfing down two rather large pizzas.

"Mmm, didn't realize how hungry I was." said Cindy.

"Oh, I did. I was starving." said Molly. "But that hit the spot. So, I'm glad you got everything worked out with Dad. I think he was very worried about things, but he said you just plowed right into it."

"Yeah." said Cindy. "He told me that, too. But to be honest... I don't think he was upset about putting off meeting Jenna."

"He was ready to, though, for your sake." said Molly, peering at her sister. "Remember that." she added cryptically.

"Well, he said we could come up this Spring." Cindy said. Molly didn't say anything. Cindy felt a vibe, and said "What?"

Molly said "Just that Spring is the busy season on the farms, as you well know, and Don thinks things are going to heat up for your Police Department as you go after the Consultant of Crime. It may be months before you get up there."

"You may be right, but we'll see." said Cindy. "There's Easter and Spring Break, and I'll bet I can squeeze in a long weekend." When Molly didn't say anything, this time masking it by drinking some of her soda, Cindy knew that there was something Molly wasn't saying.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Are you ready to go?" Laura asked.

"I'm packed. How about you?" I asked.

"Ready." Laura said. "Admit it, darling, I surprised you."

"Oh, I admit it: that you did." I said, taking her into my arms. My wife had managed to procure four tickets to the National Championship game(!). I need not say that I was absolutely staggered when she presented them to me the day before.

"Melina and Daniel will be joining us in Dallas on Monday." Laura said. "Todd and Teresa will keep the kids at their place, and your mom is going to watch over Bowser and Buddy. Teresa will take Buddy to see Amy every day. Meanwhile, I've procured a Government jet to take us to Texas. There's someplace I want to visit before we go to Dallas..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"There she is." Cindy said. "Jenna! Over here!" She waved at Jenna, who finally saw her and came over. Jenna looked tired as Cindy hugged her.

"How are you?" Cindy asked. "I'm sorry about your uncle."

"Thanks." Jenna said. "Hi Molly. Yes, my uncle passed on, and we had the funeral and a big family gathering."

"Let's go get your luggage and get back home." said Cindy. "Molly wants to get back to Ian, too, I'm sure."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sunday, January 3d. Midland, Texas.

Located along Interstate-20 on the west side of Texas, near Odessa, Midland was near where Laura had grown up. We had landed at Midland International Air and Spaceport, the official name of their airport, the evening before, and checked into our hotel. There not being much else to do, we had sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Now this morning, Sunday, Laura drove our rented car along the roads as I looked at the scenery. I saw a lot of farms. I saw a lot of dirt. It was definitely West Texas.

After a tour of the town, Laura stopped at a cemetery. "This is where my parents are buried." she said. "It was on the outskirts of town when they were buried here, and I left." The cemetery was now surrounded by developed housing subdivisions and neighborhoods.

We walked along the cemetery gravestones until we came upon those of Laura's parents. She had brought some flowers and laid them on the gravestone, then spent a few minutes contemplating. As discreetly as I could, I took a few photographs, which I could show Carole and Jim one day in the future.

"I haven't been here since the funeral." Laura said. "I've always meant to come back, but haven't had the chance, so I thought now would be the best time."

"I'm glad you did." I said.

"And..." Laura said, "this may be the last chance I get, at least for some time."

"Yes." I said quietly, knowing that a busy time was ahead for both of us. "But if we can get you retired from the Company, maybe we can come back with the kids."

"Maybe." said Laura. I was a bit disturbed in my heart at the tone of her voice... as if she expected to never come back here again, that this was a 'bucket list' item for her...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" yelled the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, Monday January 4th. "The National Brotherhood of Emergency Service Workers has called upon the Fire Department to engage in formal talks over the severe sanctions placed on the Town & County EMTs by the Fire Department. They are threatening a general strike if the County will not negotiate with them.

"The Town & County Council has formally stated that any EMTs who go on strike will be formally and summarily fired, and that EMS services will be provided by either the University Hospital or a private company. The National Labor Relations Board has called upon the two sides to engage in negotiations, and are ready to step in with a 30-day cooling off period, but the Council has rejected the Federal Government's overtures, saying the law allows the Council's unilateral actions, and the Council is prepared to go to Federal Court to stop the NLRB, if necessary."

Bettina continued. "Sheriff Allgood's office put out a statement that he will not intervene with the Fire Department until both sides make their positions more clear. Calls to his office yesterday and today have not been returned. Chief Moynahan of the TCPD has said that his Police Force remains neutral in this fracas, but his Officers will enforce the law should hostilities become physical or violent, or if the safety of the County's citizens are threatened."

"In other news, it's the big game between the Wildcats and the Rebels at Dallas tonight, and millions will be watching. While the Wildcats are our Bulldogs's conference rival, some of our residents are Wildcat alumni, including our own Police commander, Donald Troy." said Bettina...

"Speaking of Commander Troy," said Martin Nash. "Why isn't he here having coffee with us?"

"This is not to get outside of this room." said Cindy Ross. She looked around to make sure she had everyone's understanding, then she said "He's going to be at the game."

"Whaa?!?!" came a chorus.

"His wife got him tickets." said Cindy. "They're in Dallas." She did not mention that Daniel and Melina were also in Dallas. With the powder keg of the Fire Department situation, Daniel wanted it kept under wraps. He had not even wanted to go, but his wife's persuasive charms won him over.

"Must be nice." Teddy Parker said as everyone chatted, agog at the news. "I need to find a wife like that."

"Good luck with that." said Cindy. "She's one of a kind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The 'Jones Mahal'. The 'House That Jerry Built'. AT&T Stadium. It was truly as magnificent as described, and more. Laura had somehow obtained all-access passes to the field, and we were now looking up at the huge video scoreboard hanging over the field. Wow. Just wow.

"Incredible." I said, looking around. It was 8:00am local time, and there were a few employees milling about. It would soon get very busy in anticipation of tonight's game. "How did you get these passes?"

"I've got people." said Laura. "Here come some of them now." I looked over to see Edward and Stephanie Steele coming to greet us. Selena and J.P. Goldman were with them, but it was the other person with them that stunned me.

"Ah, there they are." said Steele. "Jerry, you know Dr. Laura Fredricson, don't you?"

"Oh yes, I do. I met you in Washington a few years ago, Doctor." said Jerry Jones, giving Laura a hug. Yes... the Jerry Jones. Owner of the Dallas Cowboys and the Stadium.

"Yes, I remember." said Laura. "Mr. Jones, may I present my husband, Commander Donald Troy?"

"Ah," said Jerry Jones, looking right up at me and firmly shaking my hand, "Edward has told me a lot about you, Commander."

"Thank you, sir." I said. "It's an honor to meet you." I was still stunned, and then was stunned again.

"Ah yes, the Iron Crowbar, here in my stadium." said Mr. Jones. "Oh yes, I've heard of your reputation, and what you've done. Your friend in the FBI speaks very highly of you, very highly." That would be our mutual friend, the Deputy Director of the FBI, I realized. Wow. Just wow.

We did not get any time to talk, as one of Mr. Jones's entourage said something to him. "Okay folks, I have to go. Enjoy yourselves today. Great to see you again, Edward. Good to see all of you." He was shaking all our hands again, then went off with his group.

"I don't think I've ever seen the Iron Crowbar this surprised." teased J.P. Goldman.

"That was... Jerry Jones." I said, making the group chuckle.

"Yes." said Edward Steele. "I met him years ago. I need not say his developments have done much better than mine. Don, Laura, we're going to go see Dealey Plaza. Would you care to join us?" Laura and I agreed.

Just then a couple of men in Fire-Department-like uniforms came up to us. "Are you Commander Troy?" one of them asked, a man becoming overweight, losing his hair, and with a big brown mustache.

"Yes, I am." I said. "And you are?"

He shook my hand. "My name is Terry Ruffkin, and I'm an administrator in one of the nearby county Fire Departments. I used to be police officer with Angela Harlan."

He must've read my face, because he said "Yeah, I heard about what happened with her, and I hated it. She was a damn good Detective when she was with us. But that's not why I wanted to talk to you. I've also heard that your EMTs are having problems. We can't take all of them, but if there are one or two that you'd like to send my way, we might can find a place for them."

"Oh, that would be great." I said. He handed me his card, and in exchange I gave him mine. "And maybe one day we can talk about Harlan. I still don't know why she went bad. Maybe there's something you don't realize you know that might help me."

"We'll do that, Commander. And good luck with your EMT situation up there..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cindy's cellphone went off and she checked it, then laughed. "Hey guys," she said to the MCD Detectives, "the Commander sent this."

She showed them the photo. It was of the Texas School Book Depository. The text from Commander Troy said "Hey guys! I have a crime here for you to solve!"

"He wants us to solve the Kennedy assassination?" asked Theo Washington. "He does set the bar high for us, doesn't he?" Everyone laughed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Have you ever been here before, Don?" asked Laura as we looked around Dealey Plaza.

"Yes." I said. "When I was a Boy Scout, we flew into Dallas, then took a bus to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico. We stopped by here, then the bus drove on the Kennedy route on the way out of town."

"Who do you think did it?" asked Selena as she took pictures. "Oswald? Someone else?"

I was very, very aware of who my wife worked for as I said "I don't think it was a lone gunman." I said. "For example, we are now right below the School Book Depository building. The car slowed down to make the left turn right here. A lone gunman up there had a full frontal shot at President Kennedy at that point, and from close up, with the car just about stopped. Even I could make that shot. Yet, Oswald chose to let the motorcade turn, then make difficult shots from behind. I've never gotten over that question."

"I agree with you, Don." said J.P. Goldman. "And not many snipers can make the shots that were made from up there."

"I know one that can." I whispered to Laura, my face away from the others. Laura just arched her eyebrows in agreement. And that sniper and her husband would be joining us at the game later today.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was a great game, for those without skin in the game. Two great defenses were in competition, and it was grinding and low-scoring. Melina and I were in our Wildcat red jerseys and black pants. Laura wore a solid red blouse that was form-fitting on her lovely body, her large breasts stretching the material, and black pants and black boots. Daniel was wearing a button-down western shirt, similar to what he often wore as Sheriff in our County. Down here in Dallas, though... he was just one of the crowd.

The Wildcats had the more consistent offense, and drove up and down the field. The Rebels' offense was stymied by the great Wildcat defense, and their quarterback found no refuge but the sidelines when their punter was called to duty.

In the fourth quarter, the Wildcats led 17-3, when our running back was hit and dropped the ball. Ole Miss ran it back to make it 17-10. They had momentum, and if they could stop us, they'd have a chance to get back in it.

They did not. Our quarterback was as cool as the other side of the pillow as he led the drive. Coach Richmond showed his trust in our running back by calling for running plays again and again, and there were no more fumbles. Short passes on third down moved the chains. The Wildcats chewed up the last nine minutes of the game. With all of the Rebels's time-outs used up, my team was on the Ole Miss 15-yard-line and got into the best formation of all: the victory formation. Downing the ball twice, the clock was ground out.

Amongst all the cheering and incredible noise in the stadium, I just tried to take it in. My alma mater had just won the National Championship! Laura was taking a picture of me, with Melina on the other side of me jumping up and down. When Laura showed the photo to me, I saw I had a tear running down my cheek. This was nirvana, and I had witnessed it.

I hugged Laura, and said "I don't know how you got the tickets, but thank you for this!" She hugged me back and said what good are strings to be pulled if she doesn't pull them...

Part 6 - It Begins

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redheaded reporterette, with University Stadium in the background, at 7:00am, Tuesday, January 5th. "They have done it! The Wildcats won the National Championship, 17-10 over the Rebels! Let's go to Nick Eastwood for his Sports report!"

"Thank you, Bettina!" shouted Nick Eastwood, also with University Stadium in the background. They were actually only 50 feet apart as Nick said "It was a great college football game, and the Wildcats brought home the crystal trophy and their first-ever National title! And some of our own County residents are celebrating. Let's go to the tape!"

The tape played, and Your Iron Crowbar was being interviewed the night before by Nick Eastwood outside AT&T Stadium. I had been corralled by Nick, and I suspect he had some help locating me. Ah, the price of those tickets, I thought to myself.

"How do you feel, Commander Troy?" asked Nick.

"It... it's awesome!" I said, obviously exhilarated. "I'm proud as a fan for my school, but I also know Coach Marshall and some of the other coaches, and I'm happy for them and the players. This is something they'll have for the rest of their lives!"

"I have to ask," said Nick, "we just saw Coach Thrasher's defense, led by Coach Marshall tonight. Do you think Coach Thrasher can bring that level of play to the Bulldogs?"

"I think Coach Thrasher is going to do very well, and the Bulldogs are going to be a lot better with him." I said. "I'm glad we won tonight, because it's going to be tougher in the coming seasons."

Nick came back live. "Police Commander Troy, a very proud Wildcat alumnus, is celebrating today, Bettina. It's also a great day for the Conference, and University President Sidney P. Wellman issued a statement congratulating the Wildcats, their team and their fans on the ultimately successful season..."

"How did he find you amongst all those people, Commander?" asked Martin Nash, and very astutely, I might add.

"I think he was tipped off." I replied. Yes, I was in MCD with everyone else. We'd flown home, arriving at County Airport in the wee hours of the morning. I'd cleaned up, then went right on in to work, knowing that a lot was going on and I had to catch up.

Teddy Parker came in, looking forlorn. He did come up and shake my hand. "Congratulations, Commander. Your team was definitely the best."

"Thanks, Teddy." I said. "Your team played tough, too. I'm sure those with no skin in the game loved it."

"That we did." said Teresa Croyle, who'd joined the coffee klatch. "The Cop Bar was very rowdy last night. Good thing all the partiers were cops, or we'd all be in jail today."

"I hope you left the place standing." I said, grinning.

"Barely." said Chief Moynahan, walking in. "Congratulations to your team, Commander. When you finish with your coffee, come to my office." I took the hint, and immediately followed him to his office.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I'll tell you right now, we really don't need you here." said Hans Logan, a full Paramedic with the TCPD EMTs.

"Look, guys," said Jack Naples, president of the National Brotherhood of Emergency Service Workers (NBESW), "you need us behind you. You need the power of a national presence, and you need a national story. It's really your only hope."

Jack Naples was a large, broad-shouldered man, and his physique reminded many of the Iron Crowbar's. But, as was shown on TV, his face was long, his jaw nearly triangular, and he has this sinister perma-grin.

"You don't know the local issues." said Wilbur James, leader of the local NBESW chapter, and nephew of Mrs. Myrtle James's late husband. "We're really behind the eight ball when it comes to local and State law. This is a Right-To-Work State. We have to take this patiently, or we're out on the streets without jobs, and we'll never be hired by anyone in this County if we get fired."

"Guys," said Naples cheerfully, "they're walking all over you. If you don't stand up to them, if you don't show brotherhood and solidarity, then you're salaries are cut, your jobs are cut to the bone. A strike, with the public opinion behind you, is what you need to force your elected officials to work with you instead of against you."

"Didn't you just hear Mr. James?" said the last man in the meeting hall. His name was Jimmy Lawson, and he was a young redhead and just months out of the Army as a Medic. His young wife had given birth to their first child, a son, just a couple of months before. "If we go on strike, they'll fire us, and we're done. My wife has already been told she'll be fired from her job at Target if I go on strike with the EMTs. The whole Town is against us! We can't go on strike!"

"Kid, you've got a lot to learn." said Naples. "They threaten you so you won't cross the line, but when you do cross it, all the pressure goes away when they see that you're serious."

"We can't risk it!" said Lawson, seemingly desperate. "We can't just throw away our jobs!"

"Easy kid." said Wilbur James. "Jack, he's right. We've got to do this carefully. And you've got to let the locals take the lead on this. If you start jumping in front of television cameras with threats to strike, you may do us more harm than good."

"Gentlemen," said Naples, as if he were talking to children, "We've handled dozens of cases like these across the country. That's why I'm here; we know better how to handle this. We know the power of the Press, especially when we have it on our side. Now you guys follow our lead, and we'll teach these local politicians a thing or two about the power of a National Union!"