The Peace Proxy: Part 1 (6 page)

Garrett took Charlie’s enthusiasm as an
indication the situation at the paper must be worse than he
expected. Still, he returned the smile. “I am rather fond of this
head.”

“Me, too,” Katherine chimed in as she kissed
his cheek.

Mark Haslam, Garrett’s rival at the paper,
was not as cheerful. “Nice work, champ. Fortunately, there was no
real estate involved with this one,” he sneered dismissively.
Mark’s signature snide tone often rankled Garrett. Both were good
reporters,
and their rivalry went back to
before Garrett’s exodus from the Tribune. Mark could not allow
Garrett to enjoy
a success
without reminding
him of his very public fall from grace. He stood about two inches
taller than Garrett and a little heavier. The way he carried
himself could only
be described
as pompous.
Garrett had to fight the occasional urge to punch him, just to see
the change in that self-indulgent smirk, but not tonight. Mark’s
jealousy was
inconsequential
.

Garrett raised his glass slightly. “Right,
Mark, and your last piece? Oh yeah, defective car locks, I
believe.”

“Whatever,” Mark muttered as he turned back
to the young blonde he was attempting to charm before Garrett and
Katherine arrived. Garrett recognized her as one of the interns
working at the paper. Typical Mark, he was likely
regaling
her with a myriad of promises to advance her
career, none of which he would fulfill.

“What happened to professional courtesy?”
Charlie joked. “Come on let’s get another drink.” He ushered them
both toward the bar.

Cocktails in hand, Charlie decided it was
time to
dance,
and Katherine obliged.
Garrett’s attention
was split
between watching
the two of them spin around the dance floor and Mark trying to bed
the blonde. Garrett thought her name was Angie and hoped she was
smart enough to see through Mark’s pretense. As his attention
turned back to Katherine and Charlie, a man slid next to him taking
the adjacent seat at the bar.

“Charming girl,” the gentleman remarked.
“Someone should marry her.”

Garrett recognized the voice.

“Arthur,” he smiled as he turned toward the
older man. “I am surprised.”

Garrett gave Arthur a hug. As he released
him, he could not help noticing how frail Arthur seemed. The
realization that Arthur probably would not see many more years
unsettled Garrett. He understood a chapter in his life would soon
be
ending,
and he was powerless to slow down
the march of time that would see Arthur vanish from this world. He
felt a slightly uncomfortable sensation
around
his
heart
as if his chest had suddenly decided
on its
own
accord to
constrict
that vessel in retaliation for Arthur’s
mortality. Garrett fought to put the notion aside, knowing Arthur
would be uncomfortable with his concerns.

Arthur returned Garrett’s smile. “Well, this
old dog still has a few tricks,” he replied in response to
Garrett’s greeting. Garrett had asked Arthur to join them for the
evening, but Arthur had declined, due to a previous engagement.
Although Arthur had retired from political consulting over a decade
ago, the shift in the rhythm of Arthur’s life that Garrett had
expected never occurred. After several years Garrett concluded men
like Arthur never retire, they just become more discriminating in
their endeavors.

It was through these political circles that
Arthur had met Garrett’s father and, subsequently, Garrett. Garrett
was not sure when or where his father, Marshall Richards, and
Arthur Craig became acquainted, but he knew that by the time he was
born they were close friends. Arthur rarely spoke of Garrett’s
early years, but Garrett could sense a tangible, deep sorrow Arthur
felt for the loss of Marshall and even more so for what Arthur
considered the loss of Garrett’s childhood. Arthur became Garrett’s
guardian after Marshall’s death. Although Garrett found his early
education a bit parochial, he felt no loss for what some might
consider an unorthodox upbringing, but Arthur had deep regrets
concerning Garrett’s adolescence.

“I thought you had another engagement,”
Garrett remarked.

“One of the great things about retirement is
you get to do anything you want,” Arthur replied.

“You don’t seem to be slowing down.
Still dabbling in politics?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s in the blood. I think
I’ll have a drink,” he announced with a smile.

Garrett signaled the bartender and allowed
Arthur to order.

Always
a true
gentleman, Arthur carried his age with remarkable dignity, but as
Garrett handed him the glass furnished by the bartender, he could
not help notice the liquid it contained rippled from the motion of
Arthur’s trembling hand. Again, Garrett recognized that Arthur’s
robust
mien
was giving way, and in an instant,
Garrett had come to think of him as feeble. Arthur was the one
constant throughout Garrett’s tumultuous
life,
and this
visible
change in his health struck
Garrett like a physical blow. He was disoriented for a moment while
his mind redefined Arthur as no longer
an
enduring
presence. His priorities shifted subtly to focus on
spending more time together.

Garrett turned back to Arthur. “We don’t see
enough of each other.”

“No we don’t,” Arthur replied, sadness
evident in his voice. “We never did, and I’m sorry about that,
Garrett.”

Garrett put a reassuring arm around Arthur.
“I’ve told you before; there is no reason to apologize. Those were
tough times for both of
us,
and you did
everything you could for me.”

Arthur became vexed, “Living in boarding
schools. That’s no way for a boy to grow up.”

“It was fine, Arthur. You made sure I had
everything I needed.”

The sadness returned to Arthur’s voice,
“Everything but a parent.”

“
At least
I had a place
where I was welcome during the holidays. Half the kids at school
who had parents couldn’t say that,” Garrett responded, giving
Arthur a hug with the arm he had placed
around
his shoulders. “I don’t regret my childhood and neither should
you.”

Arthur patted Garrett on the shoulder as he
wiped his eyes. “Okay, okay, my boy. I seem to be getting more
sentimental in my old age. Life reflections and all that,” he
leaned away from Garrett’s embrace and took a drink. “Tell me how
the reporting business is treating you.”

Now it was Garrett’s turn to take a long
drink. He looked away from Arthur as he replied, “Well, I saw today
playing out differently.”

Arthur grinned. “How is it your subjects
seem to want to kill themselves?”

Garrett flashed his winning smile. “Must be
my charm,” he quipped.

“I’ll have to reconsider giving you an
interview,” Arthur joked.

Katherine and Charlie were returning from
their dance. Garrett watched the two as they weaved through the
crowd of
merrymakers
. Katherine’s ease of
grace was something to
behold,
and he was not
the only one beholding it. Several men gave pause as she
moved past
, flowing by each with an ethereal
beauty. His feelings for her triggered a response that spread
through him with a gentle warmth. Conflict welled up in him,
quenching the delicate embers. The recently introduced inner
turmoil resurfaced. The origin of his restraint; his inability to
give himself
completely
to Katherine was
evident
to Garrett, but that made it no less
difficult to subdue. This conflict, coupled with his concern for
Arthur, was almost enough to overshadow the excitement generated
from the burgeoning investigation Mike had introduced.

“Arthur, great to see you,” Katherine
greeted when she and Charlie had almost reached the bar.

“Katherine, you are a mesmerizing vision,”
Arthur replied as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Arthur,” Charlie greeted.

“Good to see
you,
Charlie,” Arthur replied.

The four shared small talk of the year’s
events.
Eventually,
the conversation ebbed as
The Emperor
Waltz began to play.

“Katherine, would you share a dance with an
old man before the evening wears on too long?” Arthur asked.

“I’d be delighted,” Katherine replied. She
took Arthur’s hand and led him to the dance floor.

As the two danced the delicate movements of
the Waltz, Katherine asked, “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m doing fine, young lady. And
you?”

“Things are going well,” she replied.

“And Garrett?”

“Garrett is,” she considered for a moment,
“Garrett is Garrett.”

“That’s a good way of describing him. Still
very focused, I take it?”

Katherine appreciated the euphemism. “Driven
is the word I would use.”

Arthur looked deeply into Katherine’s eyes.
“He loves you, dear. I just don’t think he’s ready to admit it,
even to himself.”

Katherine stopped dancing and stared at
Arthur. Sometimes you hear the right words even though they may
come from a place you would never expect. “Why are you telling me
this?”

Arthur gave a weak smile. “Garrett has had a
tough go of it the past few years. After
today,
I’m afraid it may get worse. I can see he is happy
when you’re
together,
and I don’t want you to
give up on him.”

Misty-eyed, Katherine cupped Arthur’s face
with one hand. “You’re a good man, Arthur.”

Still lounging at the bar, Garrett turned to
Charlie. “How do you think Arthur looks?”

“Why? Are you afraid he is going to steal
Katherine away from you? I’ll do that before I give him a
chance.”

Garrett laughed at the appreciated jest.
“No, I am just a little worried about him. He looks like he’s lost
weight.”

Charlie placed a reassuring hand on
Garrett’s shoulder. “He is getting old, kid. That is what happens
if you live long enough, but don’t worry yourself needlessly,
Arthur still has a lot of gas left in the tank.”

“Yeah,” Garrett replied without conviction
as he watched Katherine and Arthur dance. Knowing he could not
influence that outcome, he shifted his attention to something he
could affect, and in doing so compartmentalized his concerns for
Arthur. After a brief interval in which he
cataloged
his thoughts and ensured each unresolved
situation had at least
a notional
solution, he
was prepared to move on to
a more invigorating
topic when Charlie changed the subject for him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to
interview Weller?” Charlie solemnly asked. Garrett had weathered
several of Charlie’s tirades concerning journalistic misconduct
over the years. His effort to broach the subject
delicately
was a measure of how dire the situation had
become.

“Because you would have stopped me,” Garrett
replied.

Charlie’s voice took on the edge Garrett
expected, “You’re damn right I would have stopped you.”

“I had to know, Charlie. I had to know he
was guilty,” Garrett explained.

Charlie let out a deep sigh and took on a
softer tone, “I understand, champ, but this is probably going to
get complicated.”

“Forget Weller,” Garrett countered
dismissively.

“Forget Weller?” Charlie asked, bewildered.
“Have you gone mad as well as rogue? I spent an hour this afternoon
trying to convince Cresler Senior your merits as a reporter
outweigh the liability risk to the paper.”

“Cresler, huh?”

Charlie felt the need to elaborate. “He
hasn’t spoken a dozen words to me since we
were
hired
, but today he had plenty to say.”

“Do I still have a job?” Garrett asked.

“For now.”

“Then forget Weller. I have something
bigger. Have you ever heard anything strange about the ARC?”

Charlie’s bewilderment deepened, “The Alien
Research Center?”

“Yeah,” Garrett confirmed.

“I don’t know,” Charlie began. “Rumors
now and then
. The usual stuff you get with any
government organization. I did hear the ARC was behind the movement
to put workers back in
offices
but after the
energy
crisis
was
resolved
and the travel restrictions were
lifted,
there was
really
no reason
people could not physically drive into work.” Charlie fleetingly
considered that prospect. “I like working with people face to
face,” he added. “Why do you ask?”

Garrett hesitated a moment. “I just met
Mercury.”

Charlie knew the reference well. “Did you
tell him hello for me?” he asked pointedly.

Garrett chuckled. Never one to get excited,
you could always count on Charlie for an understated, direct
response. “I did,” Garrett replied as he rubbed the knuckles
of
his right hand. They were already starting
to bruise and swell.

“Atta boy,” Charlie exclaimed in
approval.

“He claimed he had information concerning
some
sort of
fraud in the ARC.”

“In the ARC?” Charlie questioned again as he
considered the next logical outcome. “If he is right, he’ll need
some serious protection.”

“That’s why he met me tonight. He said...”
Garrett trailed off when he saw Katherine and Arthur returning from
the dance floor. “His real name is
Mike
if
that helps, and his source’s name is Rubin Talbot. Check it out,”
he prompted Charlie, as Katherine and Arthur arrived.