Reviewing what he knew and bashing that together with what the coach had hinted at, caused him a lot of concern. ‘Not private, not corporate’ coach had said, that implied government. While informative, it was not specific and could mean anything from local law enforcement to IRS to NSA and a whole lot of alphabet soup in between. The ‘not a nice guy’ comment regarding the target coupled with the ‘times we live in’ statement implied terrorism especially when taking into account the middle eastern name of the target.
Sure, that is racial profiling, but how can you ignore the realities of the situation just to be politically correct? Logic and reason have no social conscious. Bottom-line, when you’re in the barnyard collecting eggs, look under the chickens not the cows.
Well I won’t know what I’ve got until I get my feet wet, thought Mason. Ripping the printout of Rafi Arunian’s profile off of the printer, Mason grabbed the truck keys and his overnight backpack from the table by the entryway. He made his way to the parking lot, swinging by his mailbox along the way, grabbing the handful of mail and jogging to his pickup truck.
Coach doesn’t know class when he sees it, thought Mason, this ‘63 is a classic. He threw his backpack into the bed of the truck, grimacing as he heard a scraping sound, probably his electric razor within the pack, scraping on the bed of the pickup as it slid to a stop. He had been planning on getting a drop in bed liner to prevent any further damage to the newly rejuvenated classic 1963 Chevy pickup.
He needed to start keeping him a ‘to-do list,’ things were starting to pile up on him. He decided to start one tomorrow.
