From:    brendan.dillon@xx.xxxx.xxx 
Date:    Thu Jan 1, 2004 5:47 am
Subject: Ataaaaack of the Killer Tomato Paste


Wayland was in the office across from his bedroom, hard at work, when the phone
rang. He minimized the document he was typing, and went to the next room to pick
it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi honey, it's me," said his wife, Bessie.

"Hey babe. Having fun at your aunt's house?"

"Yeah. You should see Emily Jane with Maya right now. They're playing 'Dora the
Explorer' in the front yard."

Wayland chuckled. "When are you coming home today?"

"Sometime this afternoon. We'll probably get there around 4."

"Okay, honey. I love you."

"I love you too. Oh, don't forget, it's your turn to clean the kitchen. I need
those pots washed so I can make dinner tonight."

"Um, okay. I've got a lot of work to do, but I'll clean up by the time you get
here."

"Thanks. See you tonight."

Wayland turned off the phone, walked to the kitchen, and grimaced. The entire
counter was covered with dishes. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Eh, I'll do it later," he said to himself, and returned to his office. No
sooner did he get back to work than the phone rang again.

"Forget something, dear?" he asked as he turned on the phone.

"Ah, um... sir..." A male voice spluttered, not expecting to be called "dear" by
one of the most powerful men on the planet.

"Sorry," said Wayland. "Thought you were someone else. Who is this?"

"Sir, this is Special Agent Rucker with Oligarchy Intelligence. An urgent
briefing is being called at the Fortress of Doom, and your presence is requested
as quickly as possible."

Wayland glanced at his document, looking less and less likely to be finished on
time by the minute. "Can't I just webcam in?"

"No, sir. They need you here at the Fortress. And take the Mustang."

"Why the Mustang?"

"Um... sir, I'd rather not discuss it on this line." Rucker hesitated. "They
listen, you know."

"Riiiiight. Okay, I'll be there soon."

Wayland grabbed his wallet and keys. After a few false starts, he got the
Mustang running and was off.

As he turned onto Route 98, he noticed what appeared to be a small, red aircraft
fly overhead. Then a shrill noise rang out, shattering windows in houses for
several blocks, as well as all the other cars on the road, which used standard
glass rather than the transparent aluminum of the Mustang's windows. Wayland saw
a stream of red liquid spray out of the hovering aircraft just before it shot
away.

"That looked like it was over my house," he thought, and turned back to see what
had happened. He left the car idling in the driveway and walked up to a window.
He was horrified by what he saw.

Hundreds of gallons of tomato paste -- one of the few substances that are lethal
to Wayland -- had been sprayed into his broken windows. It stood several inches
deep in every room of the house.

Peering into his office, he saw that his computer has been fried beyond repair.
"So much for the document," he thought.

He walked around to look into the kitchen window. Those pots were not going to
be cleaned easily.

"Norman," he muttered, as he got back into the car and drove off.

* * *

Before long, Wayland arrived at the Fortress of Doom. A suited man with an
earphone quickly moved to usher him inside, as another man placed a holographic
projector atop the Mustang, disguising it as a nondescript Honda Civic.

"Is that really necessary?" Wayland asked.

The suited man shifted his eyes back and forth, checking his peripheral vision.
"There are eyes everywhere."

"You're Rucker, aren't you?"

Rucker's eyes enlarged to dinner plate size, panicked. "Sir, please do not
mention my name outside the compound!" he whispered loudly.

"Right, sorry," said Wayland as they rushed into the side entrance. "Look, I
need you to arrange to send a biohazard team to my house immediately for a
clean-up."

"A biohazard team? What happened, a Reticulian spacecraft flyover? I'm told that
their reaction drives leave--"

"No, Agent Rucker, just Norman and a lot of tomato paste. Now where is
everyone?"

"In the computer room, sir. I'll make some calls to get your house cleaned up."

(Good, thought Wayland silently. Maybe they'll wash the dishes for me, while
they're at it.)

* * *

Paul and Bevin were in the computer room when Wayland entered, along with Matt
Brown, Lori, and a well-dressed redhead Wayland had never met. "Hi, Wayland,"
said Lori. "Where's Jason?"

"He's at an undisclosed location."

"You don't know either, do you?"

"Nope."

"I think we can get this started now," Matt said. "Wayland, this is Special
Agent Scarlett," he said, indicating the unknown woman. "I believe you've met
Agent Rucker. Scarlett is his partner."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Wayland said as he shook her hand.

Everyone sat down except for Bevin. She was still in uniform, having just come
from the Enloe blockade. She stood by a tripod next to the stairs, and turned
the first page, revealing a large photo of the Escort taking off at Enloe.

"As you have probably heard," she began, "Norman has arranged for Cronan's old
Ford Escort to get a thruster conversion, much like Wayland's Mustang. It took
off from the Enloe ramp about two hours ago." Bevin tugged on her collar, as if
to get more air to her lungs. "We snapped this picture during its launch. As you
can see, the pilot is Matthew Pulley. Certainly Norman's feet don't reach the
pedals. But if you look on top of the dashboard..."

Bevin wiped sweat off of her forehead as she pointed at a blurry blue splotch
with a laser pointer. "Analysts have confirmed that this is Norman. He is on
board, and in command. Trajectory readings indicated that they were heading
towards Durham. Besides the fact that we may need the Mustang, this is the main
reason why we asked that you come down in person, Wayland."

Finally the strain of coherent thought and speech became too much for Bevin.
"YAAAAAAAAAA!!!" she screamed, grabbing a knife and scratching at the photo
until only shreds remained.

She let out a deep sigh of relief, dropped the knife, and slumped into her
chair. "Your turn, Lori."

Lori and Matt stood. "Thank you, Bevin. The night before last, Norman loyalists
took control of the Governor's Building," Lori announced. "They were soon driven
out by quick responders from Fort Belvoir. But they left this behind in the
chaos." She held up a small USB flash drive. "I've been working with Matt to get
this analyzed."

Rucker entered the room, and gave Wayland a thumbs-up as he took his seat. Lori
handed the drive to Matt, who plugged it into Paul's computer. "These were
encrypted at first," Matt said, "but we were able to get past that pretty
easily. These files profile a number of top Oligarchy officials, and the
buildings they live and work in, analyzing weaknesses."

Agent Scarlett spoke up. "We believe that Norman is planning to use this
information aboard the Escort, to attack most of the Oligarchy's leaders."

"Tell me something I don't know," Wayland cut in. "They tomato-bombed my house
just as I was leaving."

Lori gasped. "Why didn't you tell us when you got here?"

"Didn't get the chance."

"Is everyone all right?" asked Bevin.

"Yeah, I got out just in time, and Bessie and the girls are visiting her Aunt
Emily in Danbury. I called them on the way over here, and told them to stay for
a few days."

"We were afraid of this," said Scarlett. "Your tomato weakness is
well-documented in these files. So is Jason's intolerance of dubbed anime. We
suspect that Norman plans to beam such signals directly into his TV.
Fortunately, if we can't find him, Norman probably won't either."

"What about Brendan?"

"Due to his location, we're certain that he's a secondary target for the time
being. Once Norman gives up looking for Jason, most likely he'll come here."

Everyone glanced at each other. This may be cutting it close.

"I have another theory," said Agent Rucker. He stood and tore down what was left
of Bevin's photo, revealing a page of scrambled letters, numbers and characters.
"This is a segment of the files before we broke the encryption. Searching
through all of the files, I found the letter sequence 'CIA' hidden in the code
47 times, and 'KGB' 39 times. Obviously, the remnants of these two defunct
organizations have united to put Norman into power, in an attempt to..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Paul interrupted.

"Don't you see?" Rucker pleaded. "It's subconscious suggestion!"

"Any given three-letter sequence is bound to show up randomly in a file like
that," Wayland said, standing to get a closer look. "See, here it says 'DS9.'
Does that mean that Captain Sisko is behind this too?"

Rucker squinted at Wayland. "He's not real, sir. I think you may be delusional."

Wayland rolled his eyes. "Matt, where do you dig up these people?"

"What? Agent Rucker's one of my best men."

Before Wayland was able to respond, an alarm went off. Agent Scarlett rushed
into the next room to check on it, then rushed back. "We've picked them up on
radar. Norman's on his way."

--
Brendan, the Duct Tape Avenger,  | brendan.dillon@xx.xxxx.xxx
GPG; 1SG, KPS OPC; SC, HQ, SURLI | http://www.holyducttape.com

"You've seen generals inspecting troops before. Just walk slow,
look dumb and act stupid." -Major Reisman, "The Dirty Dozen"