Ten Minutes Fast, Chapter 9, "How Do You Spell Potato?"
On June 15th 1992, the handsome, young former Vice President of the United States, Dan Quayle (under George H.W. Bush) was visiting an elementary school in Trenton, New Jersey. He was participating in a spelling lesson. He had asked 12-year old William Figueroa to spell POTATO. The kid spelled it correctly writing it on a blackboard. The Vice President told him that he got it wrong and to give it another try. The kid erased POTATO and, hesitatingly, wrote it again. This time he added an "E" and wrote POTATOE. Quayle congratulated young William for now spelling the word correctly, and applauding he said, "There you go!"
Just for the record ... it's POTATO (singular) and potatoes (plural) ...
Quayle was a piece of work. He was hand-picked by H.W. to bring a modicum of enthusiasm, youth, and energy to an aging president and a seemingly likewise White House administration. Kind of like John McCain and the infamous Sarah Palin. Image is everything. Until it backfires. Who knew?
Quayle never lived down that day in Trenton, New Jersey. The nail in his public image coffin, however, was placed a few years earlier when he was debating the Democratic Senator from Texas, Loyd Bentsen. Quayle, a native of Indiana, was at that time, a Senator from that state. Quayle, to his chagrin, had been routinely in the media comparing himself to the sacrosanct John F. Kennedy ... and he did this constantly during the debate. It must have become too much for Bentsen to take, and he told Quayle, to the prolonged cheers and applause from the packed house, "Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy." And he was so right.
What has all this got to do with the story at hand? You decide.
(Author's Note:?This Thomas Baker novel is largely based on true events. Some chapters are preordained with creative license in order to move the story along. This follows Baker's 'Sunset Playland', 'Sweet Land of Liberty', 'Something for Nothing', 'Exodus Afghanistan: A Personal Story', and 'Burnt Bridges and Loose Ends'. All of these can be seen, posted chapter by chapter in their unedited manuscript form in search of a formal publisher, on this LinkedIn web page in the "Featured" and "Activity" sections. Some names, places, and dates have been changed for privacy, personal protection, and national security)
Jim McKinster is from Boise, Idaho. Potatoe country. Born in a small town just east of Boise, this farm kid from Gooding is the grandson of the old-time sheriff there, and the son of a Vietnam veteran now a dairy farmer there.
Boise is an interesting place. No, really, it is. Once the brunt of jokes by late night comedians as "Nowheresville USA" ... the "boonies", this up-and-coming city has arrived in style and holding its own as one of the most popular cities in America in which to relocate and raise a family. It's not a bad singles town either. Boise is a modern world-class city with a small town atmosphere. There are good jobs to be had with many national and international companies headquartered here, it's just minutes away from places like Sun Valley, the Craters of the Moon National Monument, the rugged Snake River Canyon, and the scenic Sawtooth Mountain Range. Located on the Snake River flood plain in the center of the Intermountain West, Boise is a place where art, science, wilderness, the creature comforts of a modern lifestyle, and a strong economy all converge making it one of the most desirable places in the United States to live and work.
That, and also because it's "home", is why Jim McKinster chooses to live, work, and provide for his family here. Jim is a veteran of Iraq and the Afghanistan war. A Marine who experienced more than his share of combat. He was lucky to have been wounded only a few times, and has had several close calls with death. He's experienced the horrors of war from which many of his fellow soldiers returned home with various emotional issues and PTSD ... a condition which Jim refers to as a frailty, even a weakness. His opinion. Patton would have loved him.
Jim has a good job as an operations manager for the J.R. Simplot Company, an agribusiness consortium, multi-level now, that made a fortune for old J.R. selling french fries to McDonald's. Potatoes again. Jim and his wife Catherine, a school teacher, have planned this post Christmas holiday vacation for some time now, and they and their three kids, Jim Jr. (15), Kate (12), and Judy (9), are currently in flight to San Diego to board ship in the morning. Tonight, they will be staying in the same hotel as Kahil Shahin, the man who apparently plans to kill them and their 3,000+ fellow passengers tomorrow. It's also the same hotel to which CIA Chief George Phillips, who has an exclusive edge on this situation, and Thomas Baker, are now en route and will stay tonight where they will confront and try to stop Kahil Shahin ... aka Mr. John Beston, aka Mr. Erik Trudeau, aka Ms. Bonnie White ... from carrying out his own personal 9/11.
Baker questions whether they can do anything in such a short amount of time to prevent the pending catastrophic disaster. George tells him, "I got this."
It's later in the evening now. Everyone has arrived and settled in their rooms ... Jim McKinster and his family, George and Baker ... Kahil. But unknowingly and coincidentally, they had all passed one another in the lobby earlier. Baker even bumped into Kahil, offering an apology. But Kahil's disguise, now as a woman, did not fool George.
There's a knock on Kahil's door. He answers ... in his normal voice. The woman disguise in the lobby earlier was just for show ... or for other reasons we won't get into here.
George, in his practiced best woman's voice, says, "Housekeeping ... you alien rat bastard fuck!"
Kahil laughs to himself. He is relieved. He knows who it is. He opens the door and says, "I thought you'd never get here. Come in gentlemen." He's dressed as a man now, but his lipstick is smeared where he tried to wipe it off.
Baker is confused, but plays along. He knows Kahil as the "guy with the glasses" from the ATC shootout in Utah last year, a crossbreed alien involved in a plot to take over the government (see 'Burnt Bridges and Loose Ends'). He also knows that George Phillips has extraterrestrial ancestry as well. He trusts George that he knows what he is doing.
George never refers to Kahil by name, because he doesn't know his name ... or even if he has a name.
Kahil: "Sit down my friends", he motions to the couch and chairs in the room, "To "what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
George: "You know why we're here."
Kahil: "Yes. I do. But you are too late ... ten minutes late, in fact, and about 3,000 miles off course."
Baker has been holding his tongue, just like Senator Bentsen with Dan Quayle, but he's had enough of Kahil's double-talk bullshit, especially, the ten minutes late comment, and says, "... the fuck's that supposed to mean?"
Kahil: "You fools. And I thought you were smart guys. I'm just a decoy. We drew you here, as far away from ground zero, or should I say, ocean zero, as possible ...
... there is no danger to the Disney cruise ship departing here tomorrow morning. All the good people staying in this hotel tonight with visions of sugar plums and Mickey Mouse dancing in their heads will have a wonderful and safe, fun-filled voyage cruise departing on time at seven AM ...
领英推荐
... but for the good folks aboard the Effigy of the Sea, the largest cruise ship in the world, departing on her maiden voyage from the Port of Miami tomorrow morning ... not so much."
Baker and George look at one another ... puzzled ...
Kahil continues, "Look at you. Idiots! I fooled you. We fooled you. We even fooled all of Baker's readers on this LinkedIn site."
George: "We? Who's we?"
Kahil: "Wouldn't you like to know ... Well, I'll tell you because you two will not leave this room alive. Kill me, and you kill the 10,000 passengers and crew on that ship in Miami ... the Effigy of the Sea. Perfect name. It will become an effigy tomorrow, when it sinks to the bottom like a big fat Idaho potato ..."
Baker considers this. He knows that a potato, Idaho or otherwise, will sink in fresh water ... but will float in salt water. (We don't call him "baker" for nothing). He doesn't bother to correct Kahil.
Kahil continues, "... You are locked in here now, there is no escape for you. You underestimate the power of AI and the programs we were working on with Ben Hooper and your former president ... and the extent to which we have developed the technology."
Baker turns quickly to test the door. It is indeed locked and he's not able to open it. It's a heavy door ... and he notices for the first time there is no peephole in the door. Also noticing for the first time, there are no windows in Kahil's room.
WTF?
John Kushma is a communication consultant and lives in Logan, Utah