Decisions, Decisions...
My mind is a strange and complicated place.... welcome.
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The hours had progressed from late to early, and the place was nearly empty. Sal was busy wiping down the bar and washing glasses, though he did take notice of the few straggling patrons that still occupied the premises. Cole was sitting at the table in the corner, facing the door. Over and over and over again, he flipped the shiny, dollar coin high into the air, caught it, glanced at it, and flipped it again. Finally his curiosity got the best of him, and Sal posed the question.
“Hey, Cole, you’ve been flipping that thing for hours, man. What gives?”
Cole seemed to ignore him and watched intently as the coin flipped end over end above him. When he caught it this time, however, he flipped his hand over and slammed the coin down on the well worn table.
“Heads or tails?” Cole asked without looking up. Instead, he stared at his own hand, beneath which the coin rested.
“I don’t know, why? What are you doing?”
“Sal, just… heads or tails?”
Confused, Sal thought for a moment before responding “heads.”
Cole had two choices, he had known them all along, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to choose. So he flipped the coin again and again hoping that something, anything, would make the choice for him. Though he couldn’t bear the burden of making the call himself, he would abide by the hand of fate. Sal’s query was what he had waited for. Lifting his hand slowly, Cole stared at the coin where it lay in front of him. Sal watched for a moment before rolling his eyes and going back to his business. Cole continued to sit there until the rest of the patrons had gone, and Sal had released his workers into the dark hours of the morning.
“Cole, I gotta close up, man,” he said cautiously. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Cole hadn’t blinked in an hour or more. He just sat there, staring at the coin. Finally, Cole stood, and swept the coin from the table. With a deep breath he walked towards the door, pausing only long enough to flip the coin one last time. Sal watched as it arced through air and instinctively thrust his hand out to catch it as it neared him.
“Have a good one, Sal. See you around,” Cole said over his shoulder. Confused, Sal shook his head, flipped the lights out, and followed Cole outside. By the time he turned back around from locking the door, Cole was gone. Exhausted, Sal simply figured that Cole had already hailed one of the many passing cabs and was already on his way home. He didn’t really care. Sal was tired, and fell asleep instantly when his head finally hit his pillow.
The decision had been made. Frankly it was the one he had been leaning toward, but one which he could not make without help. Cole knew it was for the best, though he regretted what he was now forced to leave behind. They were coming for it, and he really had no choice. In order to protect those he loved, there was no other way. So there he stood, in the darkened alley, watching his breath crystallize in the cold air before fading away into nothingness. Reluctantly, he took the device out of his pocket and stared at the small, black button in the center. To anyone else’s eye, it could have been a garage door opener. To Cole Forrester, however, it was the key to ensuring his family’s safety.
Cole set the device down on the ground and pressed the button. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a flash, two brilliant beams of red light shot outward from the device, tracing a large rectangle on the dirtied bricks of the alley wall. When the beans met each other again at the bottom, the bricks outlined by the laser lines vanished away to reveal the entrance of a short tunnel that led downward. The walls were lined with aged steel, and unadorned light bulbs dimly lit the way to a set of double doors at the end. Cole picked up the device and stepped through. Once inside, he pressed the button again and the doorway closed. He never looked back.
The room fell silent when he thrust open the creaking doors and entered. Like the hallway, the small chamber was also dingy and dimly lit. And old, oaken table occupied the center of the basement hideaway, and the expressions of those that sat around it looked beleaguered and anxious. Cole hesitated for a moment, taking in each face that stared at him, and then sat at the one remaining, vacant chair.
“So, you’re in?” one of the men asked.
“Yeah, I’m in,” Cole replied.
“How do we do this?” another asked. “It’s not like we can just waltz right in and take it.”
“Why not?” asked Cole. The room grew quite as the group digested their surprise at the suggestion.
“Are you insane?” someone else inquired. Cole simply raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Let me get this straight: you want to just walk through the front gate of Area 51 and steal it before the North Korean mole can arrange for it to be stolen?”
Cole nodded. “Yes, that’s it, precisely.”
The gentleman that spoke previously slumped back in his chair. “You are. You are certifiably insane.”
“He may be, but he is also the only one that possesses both clearance to walk right in and the relative anonymity to do so without drawing unwanted attention.” The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs stepped from the shadows where he had been lurking. “This is the only way.”
The room grew quiet for a few more moments before one of the other Joint Chiefs spoke.
“So we’re all clear: our plan is to overtly send Commander Forrester walking in to Area 51, and then he will covertly steal a top secret piece of United States
“Yes,” the Chairman answered. “It is the only way for the President to maintain plausible deniability of its existence.”
“So if he’s caught,” one asked. Cole already knew the answer to the question.
“If I’m caught, I will be labeled a domestic terrorist, court-martialed, and executed for treason.”
Silence.
“Alright then,” Cole said as he stood. “Let’s go steal a spaceship.”
© J.J. Goodman 2013. All rights reserved.