Jim finishes, Ryan says nothing but the just stares at him wide-eyed until he finally mutters, "Holy shit!"
Jim puts his finger to his lips as they merge with a group of students walking across the crowded pedestrian bridge over Highway 72 which bisects the campus. The Dome area is on the other side. Jim and Ryan carefully study the scene ahead.
They walk around the side of the Dome towards the VIP parking lot now cordoned off with temporary chain link security fencing.
Within the secure enclave they see many large, white, unmarked vans with official license plates, lots of antennas, satellite dishes, Yagi masts and a spaghetti farm of thick cables connecting one trailer to another.
A camouflage painted National Guard field generator chugs away off to one side. The power draw from these trailers must exceed the university's electric allocation. The generator is connected by heavy gauge cables on temporary utility poles that radiate to each of the vans. A/C units protruding from the roofs buzz and whine under the hot late spring sun.
Jim and Ryan easily blend in with the crowd of students wending their way obliviously past the security area on wide bleached white concrete walkways. These connect to the main campus from the acres of commuter parking lots beyond. Ryan begins snapping pictures with his cell phone while Jim walks up to one of the doors of the Dome to get a better look at the Ethernet cable bundle going into the building.
Clang! Behind him Jim hears the doors' metal panic bars clatter as two of the Dome's huge, double doors swing open. Out stride four crew-cut guys in baggy dark suits, each sporting wraparound opaque sunglasses, earpieces with dangling curlicue cords, and noticeable weapons bulges. They talk seriously to one another and unseen parties by radio.
As they pass, Jim cringes as he recognizes that the voices of two of them were his Bander Hall wakeup call. Waiting a moment until they get a bit ahead of him, he shadows them until they cross out into the VIP lot and then pass into the security perimeter. From a distance, he watches them climb into one of the large vans.
Circling back to Ryan, Jim says, "That was them. I recognized their voices."
"And, I got their photos," says Ryan. "I realized something was up from the I'm gonna shit a brick look on your face."
"That obvious?"
"Seriously obvious. Good thing they didn't look at you. They would have seen it too."
"Well, at least now I know one of their names, the taller one is named Mark. Now lets get out of here. I need to check some things. Come see me late tonight and bring Ben and Phil."
Time: 11:30 PM
Ryan, Ben and Phil walk past the dark math building then diagonally across a large lawn until they approach the rear of the hulking, ancient, sandstone East Gym, a remnant of the original campus, now more than a century old. Ryan sends a short text message from his phone. They wait hidden in the shadows as small groups of students pass until they see a small flicker of light in a window above.
They make their move. Carefully avoiding the walkway lights and the roof mounted security cameras, keeping close to the large ornamental shrubs, they dart across the last stretch grass to the old, now unlocked, back entrance and slip unseen within. Behind them, Ryan flips the door's rusted locking bolt.
From above, a tiny LED beam signals briefly down the center shaft of the squared spiral staircase. They clamber quickly up, their way dimly lit by the pedestrian walkway lamps weakly penetrating the dirty windows. At the top of the staircase, they see Jim's faint silhouette.
Jim, bending over the staircase, says, in a loud whisper, "Any problems?"
"None," Ryan replies just as he reaches the top step.
Using the small led flashlight, Jim leads them over the creaking, rough wood floor to his new rooftop raftered abode. Plucking four beers from the tiny dorm-style fridge, he flicks on a few strands of LED lights recessed in one of the rafters above and they take seats around a large, decrepit wooden table, long ago relegated to a forgotten attic demise.
Wednesday April 13, 2022
Time: Midnight
Ryan turns on his laptop and says, while waiting for it to boot, "I told them what happened on the way over."
Jim says, "I got Scott to send your names in as a possible ushers and prop people for the Munson event. He says you should get an email tomorrow with forms and instructions. You need to fill them in ASAP and get it back so security can do a quickie background check. Since I'll have police clearance, that means we probably can all get near the platform. Scott says they may use you as ushers or as one of the roboplause stage bots. He says they're looking for photogenic, perky, college types who won't doze off during the speech when the cameras are rolling."
"Also, I did some checking and found out they'll be erecting some giant screen TVs in front of Bander. There'll be three cameras, all on remote control, two mounted on the press platform behind the audience and one near the podium to shoot crowd reactions. The control booth for everything is in the AV center in Burris Hall. FDSU is doing the pool coverage for the press. All the feeds will go through there and then out on fiber optic to the networks. The TV nets will just do chroma-key green screen talking head overlays, FDSU will do the main broadcast."
"How many people will be at the event?"
"Maybe ten thousand, according to Mrs. Wells in campus security."
"I'm guessing a bunch of gun shots will create a real nice panic in a crowd that large."
"Probably part of their plan. That much chaos will cover a lot of tracks."
"We need some way to figure out who's behind the plot and why. Just nailing a couple of low level agents isn't enough. We need to know who they're working for," says Jim.
"Maybe we should call the cops?" says Ryan.
"I don't think that will help. I got nothing to prove that what I'm saying is true and I don't know if I want to answer a lot of questions. Anyway, those guys are the cops. We might be the ones who ended up in jail. They'd probably just switch to plan B, be more careful, and succeed next time. They probably know what they're doing and just got very unlucky that someone was living in the attic of the building they intended to use for an assassination."
"I guess so."
"Now show Ben and Phil the pictures we got over at the Dome and lets see if we can spot anything we missed this morning."
Ryan pulls out a portable projector, attaches it to his laptop, aims it at the wall, and begins the slide show. They carefully study and discuss each shot and make mental notes on the layout of the trailers and the communications equipment Jim points out the agent he heard called Mark.
After about an hour, Jim says, "Now is there any beer left at your place?"
The affirmative being established, they head for the apartment after making a stop at the quickie mart for some chips, cheese dip and frozen pizzas.
Time: 11:00 AM
At the Union, Jim gets coffee, a bag of chips and surveys the sea of tables. A hand in the distance rises and waves, it's Ryan.
"What's up?"
"Well, I got something," says Ryan.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Ben sent me some texts. He was parking his car out near the Dome when he saw Mark hop into a really big, black SUV. So he tailed him."
"Oh? Where to?"
"Some kind of big restaurant just north of the I35/US20 intersection."
"And?"
"He followed him in. He says that Mark got an outdoor table away from the crowd. The place has a pond and some historic markers. He pretended to be interested in these and took pictures of the markers but really was able to get a lot of shots of Mark."
"Anyway, he's still there. After a while another guy showed up then they both got food from an outdoor counter. While they were in line at the counter and facing away from the table, Ben dropped that tiny MP3 recorder that he uses in class instead of taking notes behind a big rack of ketchup, mustard, relish, and sugar packets on a counter right next to their table."
"Did it work?"
"I don't know. He's still there according to
his last text message. But he thinks they're almost ready to leave."
"Geeez, we may have hit the jackpot. Let me see the pictures he sent."
Ryan swivels his laptop around towards Jim. The pictures are in a group of thumbnails. Jim begins opening and scanning the full sized images, one by one.
"Uh-oh, I think I know one of these guys. I remember him from some story on TV. He's DeWitt's spokesman or something, I think."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, here let me do an image search."
He opens a search window and drags the image into it. After several moments he says, "Yep, there he is. His name is Shane Bader. He's a political consultant, a special assistant to the to the president."
They compare the pictures and nod in agreement.
"I wonder what all this really means," says Ryan.
"I dunno but I don't think it's very good," says Jim.
Ryan says, "Ok, Ben says they're leaving. He's gonna grab the recorder and follow them."
Time: 12:30 PM
As his prey leave, Ben, pretending to be getting a packet of salt, snatches the recorder, quickly switches it off and follows them out to the parking lot. Mark gets in his SUV while the other guy gets in a black sedan. He snaps a picture of it and it's license plate. Both cars pull out towards the I35 South ramp.
Ben, back in his car and following them, turns on his phone and calls Jim. Jim answers and puts it in speaker phone mode.
"I'm following them. We're heading south on I35, back towards Highway 20. As they were getting up, I heard one of them say they needed to get going because the plane was due pretty soon.