Code Name: Buffy and Buddy
Chapter Two
Did I tell you I was an insomniac? I am. It’s really annoying. So, a couple of days after I took the launch picture, I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom doing homework I should have done last night when I saw this NASA staff car pull up in front of my house. This was not a good thing. There was no reason a NASA staff car should have been anywhere near my neighborhood. My dad was in the kitchen making coffee for himself and my mom, but even though they were out of bed, it was early, and they weren’t really awake yet. They were in the kitchen talking about some problem Mom was having at work. I live in a two story house a couple of blocks off the water in a little community adjacent to the Intracoastal Waterway in Florida. It’s a small town, and all the permanent residents know each other. Only the snowbirds are strangers. My room looks out over the porch, the street and in a gap between the houses across the street where there is a vacant lot, I can actually see the ships in the waterway. If I go out on the roof, I can see them quite well. I noticed a light blue cargo van move between the houses on the road beyond the row in front of me, the only one between me and the water. I knew every car on that street, and this one did not belong.
So, these two women got out of the car. One wore an Air Force uniform, and the other wore a NASA blazer with a gray skirt. They were kind of cute in a military sort of way. Not someone you generally wanted to mess with judging by the dynamics of their stride. They each carried a manila file folder.
The women came up on the porch and rang the bell. My dad answered it.
“May I help you ladies?”
“Yes sir, is your son, Tommy, in?”
Tommy is my real name, Tommy Baker.
“Is he in trouble?”
“No, sir, we need his help. We need to ask him a few questions.”
“I am sure that whatever it is, there is a logical explanation.”
“We doubt that, sir.”
By this time I was standing behind my father.
“Are you Buddy?” the NASA woman asked.
“That depends on who is asking.”
The woman pulled a print of the photo I had posted online. “We need to ask you about this photograph.”
My father looked at the picture through the screen door. “Did you take that?”
“Yes, I did.”
“When?”
“A couple of nights ago.”
“It’s spectacular.”
“Thank you, Dad. It was not an easy shot to get.”
Dad may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he figured out that something very uncomfortable was going on.
“Where did you take this picture from?”
The NASA lady pulled out another photograph. “From here.”
The photograph showed Buffy and me on top of the concrete structure that had once held the rocket where the Apollo astronauts had died. We were recognizable in the shot, but only just barely.
“How did you get that?” I asked.
“A range security officer with an infra-red camera, a long lens, and a sturdy tripod.”
I swore softly under my breath. “That doesn’t look like me. You have the wrong guy.”
The NASA woman blinked, but the Air Force woman did not. “Perhaps this might jog your memory.” She produced a photograph of me with Buffy at the restroom building. I was quickly recognizable in the shot made with available light and not infra-red.
“Perhaps you should come inside,” my father suggested.
“With all due respect, sir,” the Air Force woman answered. “We would rather interview him out here on the porch, alone, sir, if you don’t mind. What we need to discuss with him is classified, and you are not cleared.”
“Is he?”
“No, but we will not be telling him anything classified he does not already know. He has information that we are not able to divulge to you or your wife. Sir, I understand the sensitivity of this request, but it is a matter of national security.”
Sometimes my Dad makes me really proud. He’s a good guy, but I’m a bit more than he can handle. “That’s bullshit. I’ll play along with you for now, but if you so much as harm a hair on his head, I will kill the pair of you.”
“Dad, don’t say things like that. They’re wired.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, look.” I opened the door and approached the Air Force lady and removed her cap. I showed Dad the microphone hidden in the brim. I carefully held the microphone and shouted into it. “Hello in there.”
I pictured some poor guy in a surveillance van ripping off his headset. I gave her back her cap and said, “I always wanted to do that. That was fun.” I pointed to the chairs on the porch. “Go sit and tell Gunny she can put away the rifle.”
The women looked at each other. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I sighed. “Ladies, please sit down so we can talk.”
They sat. I stood on the top step up to the porch and held out my hand. “Give me the rifle.”
I didn’t need the words. They were for dramatic effect. An assault rifle flew from behind the bushes in the vacant lot across the street and landed in my hand with a loud snap. I ejected the magazine, cleared the chamber and put the rifle on the floor. “Now, please tell Gunny to come here and ask nicely for her rifle back for without her rifle a Marine is nothing. I get it.”
A battle-hardened woman in fatigues walked across the street. “May I have my rifle back?”
I was surprised that she was not angry. She was wary, but I would have been too under the circumstances. I handed her the rifle without the ammunition. I pointed to a vacant chair. “Sit there.”
She sat as directed. “Yes, sir. How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Clear the weapon so fast?”
“Lots of television specials that I can stream on my computer. Do you want to know how I took your weapon?”
The woman shuddered. “No.”
“But we do,” the NASA woman said.
“That’s not why you came, so that’s not part of today’s conversation. From now on you need to level with me, or I will undress the bunch of you right here on the porch in plain sight faster than you know what happened. You might as well remove the pistols from your holsters in your back. I can tell they’re uncomfortable. We should talk to each other like reasonable people. You do not need to threaten me. So, what did you come to ask?”
The Air Force lady pulled out a photo of Buffy that looked like it had been taken in a portrait studio. “How well do you know her?”
I pointed to the picture she had given me of us on the top of the Apollo monument and said, “This is the first time I had ever seen her.”
“You didn’t know her before this?”
“Nope.”
The women looked at each other.
“We don’t believe you.”
“Fine, see if I care.” I stood and turned to go back inside.
“Wait.”
I turned back around.
“After you took the pictures, what did you do?”
“We packed up and made a pit stop at the restroom building at parking lot thirteen. Then we went home our separate ways.”
“And you haven’t seen her since?”
“Nope, although I would like to. She seemed interesting in an odd sort of way.”
“She’s gone missing. Her parents filed a missing person report last night.”
“Do you think I did something to her?”
“No, she uploaded the pictures from an ISP in South Florida about the same time you uploaded yours, so we know you were not together.”
“If you don’t think I had anything to do with it, why are you here?”
“So you can help us find her.”
“Seriously?”
“Is everything you know about her in those folders?”
“Yes.”
“Is your contact information in those folders?”
“Yes.”
“You should go now.”
“But...”
“I will take your information, and I will think about it.”
“We are to bring you with us so you can start the search right away.”
“No.”
“You are to come with us.”
“I will take your information and contact you if I think I can help. In the meantime, I am going to school.”
“That is not smart, and we know you are smarter than that.”
“Smarter than you think. Please go before I snatch the rifle again.”
“You will come with us.” They advanced toward me.
“No.” I dropped their panties around their ankles, and they tripped falling on their faces.
I had forgotten that my parents were watching the entire episode through the screen door. They laughed as the women tried in vain to regain their composure and dignity. Neither woman wore what would be considered military issue undies.
“I don’t need to hurt you to disable you,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please go away, and if I have anything for you, I will contact you.”
I went in into the house and closed the door. My dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, “That was cool, but we need to talk.”
“Can I have breakfast first?”
“Yes.”