The Peace Proxy: Part 1 (5 page)

“Well, that's the
downside
of being the front man. You get the glory, but
you also bear the burden if things go bad.”

“Interesting philosophy. How do I know you
are who you say?” Garrett questioned.

“I've been working with you for seven
years.”

“Wrong,” Garrett interrupted, “I
worked
with Mercury for five years.”

“We're still working together,” the man
countered. “Do you think
recordings of Governors
engaged in embezzlement and their off-shore bank account records
are delivered by the information fairy
?”

“I haven't disclosed the bank records yet,”
Garrett admitted. Knowing the accusation against Governor Weller
would generate considerable intrigue, Charlie had elected to
release the financial details in a follow-up article to garner
additional attention for the Herald. “So you're the anonymous
source?”

“Yeah, I gave you Weller,” he shot Garrett a
sidelong glance. “
Actually,
you kind of
screwed that up.”

“Everybody's a critic,” Garrett responded
dryly. “Is that what this is about?”

“Nah, what do I care if you killed him
instead of wrote a story.”

“I didn’t…,” Garrett
protested,
but the man stopped him with a wave of his
hand as he laughed.

“I’m just playing with you,” the man
replied. He had a rare, childlike enthusiasm that gave him leave to
joke when he was clearly in dire straits.
That trait
probably contributed to his success as someone who could acquire
seemingly impossible to obtain information.
“Mike’s the
name. The real name,” he smiled as he said it. Mike emanated a
gentle, easygoing persona and Garrett begrudgingly acknowledged he
liked his mannerisms.

Garrett was intrigued
and,
this time,
shook the offered hand. “Why are you making
contact now?”

“I’ve got something big this time. Too big,
I think. Right now, you knowing who I am may be the only thing that
can save my life.” Mike continued as he moved closer, “A couple of
days ago someone in my network approached me about a friend who had
found something unimaginable about the ARC. He said he had
information about some
kind of
fraud.”

“In the ARC?” Garrett asked, finding such a
proposition difficult to believe. The Alien Research Center,
commonly referred to as the “ARC,” was solely responsible for all
the military preparations for the impending war. Thirty-one years
ago, when the existence of the alien fleet
was
announced
to a stunned world, the United Federation of
Nations founded the Alien Research Center as the coordinating
agency for advanced technology development. It coordinated research
and manufacturing efforts to ensure all the resources at humanity’s
disposal were used in the most efficient manner possible to create
a viable defense system before the alien force arrived. The future
of humanity
depended
on
its success or failure. There had never been a scandal surrounding
the ARC and, outside of official press releases,
very
little
independent information existed on the organization.
The idea being that to succeed in the upcoming conflict, secrecy
would be as important as technology.

“Yeah, the ARC,” Mike continued. “From what
my source told me, planning efforts are
being
undermined
.”

“Undermined? How?” Garrett asked.

“I don’t know exactly,” Mike admitted.
“Resources are
being diverted
.”

“Into what?”

“Something alien,” Mike responded, deadly
serious.

“Come on Mike, that can’t be right. Look at
all the advancements the ARC has brought about in the last
thirty-one years.”

“I didn’t say there wasn’t research. Look at
everything the ARC has produced: terraforming, robotics,
antimatter, genetics. No direct battle applications,” Mike
responded.

“Well, they would want to keep that kind of
thing hidden. No reason to tip our hand to an alien race that has
been watching us for a few hundred years,” Garrett reasoned.

“I thought the same thing, but my source was
adamant that he had proof. Even then, I only played along to keep
him calm, but when he
was killed
two days ago,
I took notice. His name was Rubin Talbot. Check it out.” Although
the name seemed familiar, Garrett could not place it. Mike
continued, “
Anyway
, I should have the evidence
tomorrow. You got a light?” Mike asked as he opened a pack of
cigarettes.

“I don’t smoke,” Garrett informed Mike.

“Didn’t ask if you did, but I know you carry
your father’s lighter for luck.”

Garrett grinned and gave a small nod of
approval as he retrieved the lighter. Mike recognized the
acknowledgment
for what it was, respect.

“Come on, you didn’t think I would have
picked you to be my front man without doing some research, do you?”
Mike questioned as he opened a new pack of cigarettes.

“Couldn’t someone come in here at any
moment?” Garrett asked, giving the entrance a nervous glance.

“Nah, I hung an ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign on the
door
.”

Garrett
actually
chuckled at the clever deception.

“So why did you?” Garrett queried.

“What?” Mike asked as he took a drag off the
cigarette.
He coughed profusely.
“Wrong pipe,”
he added between coughs.

Garrett allowed Mike to recover before
continuing. “Pick me. Why did you?”

“Oh that,” Mike began. He reached across the
distance separating the two men, opened Garrett’s coat and placed
the lighter in the inside pocket as he spoke. “I picked you because
I was looking for a young, ambitious reporter who was
uncompromising in his search for the truth. Seven years ago when
you served two months in jail to protect your source, I knew I had
found what I was looking
for,
and you’ve made
me right ever since.”

Mike patted the coat where the lighter
rested between layers of wool.

“But I didn’t come here to tell you how
noble you are. I’ll meet you Monday outside Penn Station, southwest
corner, seven a.m. Bring my usual fee on a chip.” As Mike placed
the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, several fell to the
floor.

Garrett
stooped
and
retrieved the scattered cigarettes. “Why can't you give me the
information now?” he asked as he stood, but Mike was gone. “And
what’s your last name?” he asked the empty room.

Katherine was waiting in the ballroom
antechamber next to the coatroom.

“Everything all right?” she asked, mildly
concerned.

Garrett’s reply was chipper, “Never
better.”

He could feel the trail of a new story
expanding before him and his mind was alive with the possibilities.
He removed his coat and helped Katherine with the same, handing
both to the clerk. He offered Katherine his arm, which she
accepted. Arm in arm, they walked through the ballroom
entrance.

Garrett and Katherine stepped past the
entryway into a room initially defined by its volume. Garrett took
in the room with nothing short of awe. Three of the walls consisted
of huge oval windows overlooking the city. The bottom of the arc
for each started
at
the floor and ended where
the ceiling began to curve into a transparent dome. At ten stories
high, just the manufacturing of the transparent polymer that formed
the single-panel windows was a marvel of modern technology. In the
far right corner, a waterfall cascaded four stories from a natural
stone outcropping into a pool that meandered to the center of the
room where it
was crowned
with an elegant
fountain. A Christmas tree, complemented with multicolored lights,
stood next to the falls. At random intervals, a miniature
holographic image of a sleigh pulled by tiny reindeer transported
Santa Clause in a spiraling ascent to the top of the
tree
. A full-service bar extended along one side of the
pool and several others emerged at regular intervals along the
walls, each surrounded by patrons busily taking in various
proffered elixirs.
The room was dimly lit by recessed
lights
in
the walls and ceiling, but
most of the light emanated from the water. From the waterfall to
the fountains, the illuminated water bathed the room in a cool,
blue hue. Bubbles emerged from the top of the back wall and slowly
drifted down onto the guests, catching the light as they fell. The
entire room held a magical air. Garrett turned
to
Katherine
to observe her reaction, only to find she was
watching him with a smile so dazzling that it made his heart
flutter.

“Impressive!” she exclaimed.

“Shall we?” he beckoned. She gave his arm a
squeeze,
and they walked toward the bar
adjacent to the center pool of water. Along the way, several people
extended their greetings, a few even whooping at Garrett about
today’s events. He smiled his half smile and nodded or responded
when appropriate. About halfway to the bar, Garrett spotted Charlie
and several of his colleagues in a group not far from the fountain
and steered the two of them in that direction.

Good
ol
’ Charlie. Even
from here, Garrett could see Charlie was smoking a cigar, in what
was undoubtedly a nonsmoking area. Charlie did not care much for
the rules and due to his attitude, most people did not care to
remind him when he was breaking one. It was that attitude that had
kept Garrett and him together all these years. Through two
different papers, they had become a package deal. Their
complementary strengths had
forged
the two
into
an inseparable
team. Charlie,
an old-fashioned
grindstone editor, was not afraid to
back one of his reporters if they went out on a limb, and Garrett
had a gift for coercing people into telling him things they would
tell no one else. Where one was brusque, the other was
charming.

Although they were now thick as thieves,
things had not always been so
cordial
between
the two. After Garrett graduated from college, he quickly found a
position as a sports writer for the Tribune. The job came entirely
too
easily,
and Garrett suspected Arthur had
used some of his considerable political power to influence the
hiring process. The attitude of his coworkers and particularly his
editor, Charlie, confirmed his suspicions, but Garrett was never as
concerned with how he arrived in a situation as much as what he did
once he was there. Although
he
found the
subject matter entirely mundane, he executed his assignment as a
junior sports writer well, with
keen
insight
into
subtle strategies. Charlie mostly ignored
him until he exposed an insider-gambling ring involving
professional athletes and coaches. The news was
front-page,
and Charlie began reconsidering Garrett’s
work on its merits. Garrett requested a transfer to investigations
and Charlie agreed. Together they were infallible when it came to
top-notch investigative reporting, until the Senator Rimes
incident. Garrett had followed normal protocol concerning
independent source verification, but when the story
was published
, the evidence was immediately called into
question. After an intense investigation, it was determined the
evidence had
been fabricated,
and the
perpetrators had long since disappeared. The Tribune gave Garrett
the option to resign, but made it clear he would not
be retained
, so Garrett left. Charlie joined him as a
protest over the Tribune not standing behind a reporter caught in
an elaborate fraud. The
New York Herald
was looking for an
editor and took on Charlie and Garrett as a team. Once again,
Garrett was sure he owed his employment to someone else’s
influence.

Garrett was grateful to be working in the
news reporting industry, but the entire incident still chafed him.
There was hardly a day that went by that he did not recount some
part of the events that led to his dismissal from the Tribune. It
was not as much the injustice of his departure, but the
colossal
step backward he felt his career had suffered.
The Tribune was a nationally recognized leader in investigative
reporting.
Nationally
…that was the crux of the issue. The
Herald circulation was limited to the east coast region, and it
tailored its content for that target audience.
It was
owned by the Cresler family
. Three generations of
conservative management had established a status-quo they embraced.
The fact that Charlie had walked away from a national publication
still baffled Garrett. He could not discern whether Charlie had
just been ready for a change, or if he was too stubborn to back
down once he had delivered an ultimatum. Probably both.

“Well, I’ll be! I thought you might call it
a day and stay home,” Charlie exclaimed, as Garrett and Katherine
strolled up to the group. The encounter with Mike had shifted
Garrett’s
focus,
and he had already put the
Governor Weller incident behind him. There was a new puzzle to be
solved. He looked extremely self-satisfied, one might even say a
little smug. He carried a slight smile on his lips and a twinkle in
his eye as he noted that Charlie’s suit would have passed for
fashionable about the time Garrett was learning to drive.

“I couldn’t leave you here unchaperoned,”
Garrett replied as they shook hands and Charlie slapped him on the
back.

“Garrett, you made quite a splash today.”
Charlie continued, “Of course I would be happier if the exclusive
we ran had stayed
exclusive
. You gave everyone
in this room a story, but
at least
you kept
your head through the
ordeal, literally
.”