You're Clear

by JL LeGerrette

  Mr. Tropopoulis had the rock, number II, in his right hand and he was grasping it firmly. Under his left arm was his prized Brown Plaid Bag that he had scooped up as they walked to the door.

  Jahnni and Mr. Tropopoulis opened the main office door and glanced out before fully accessing the hallway. They started to head for the elevator when they heard it faintly ding as it left one of the floors below. It was heading straight for this floor. Jahnni spun back and forth as she looked around for another way out. Her arms swung left, then right, her head searching for an escape. Then she saw the security door about 20 feet away. Slightly closer was a snack machine. She didn’t know if her badge would even work that fast after being re-activated, so she decided that the door was not an option. She pointed to the corner for Mr. Tropopoulis and made her own decision. The elevator dinged twice as it arrived at their floor. She scrambled to hide on the other side of the snack machine, her back boring into the wall. Mr. Tropopoulis froze with his back to the wall by the big silk tree that sits to the right of the elevator when exiting it. Perry Prattle waited for the elevator doors to fully open, then walked directly out of the elevator, turned to the left, and walked towards his office. Jahnni heard his door pushing open and the rustling of clothes following him in. The elevator doors began to close.

  At the last second, as Perry Prattle and Benson crossed into the office, Mr. Tropopoulis took two strides to the elevator, knocking the plant into a swirl as if it was trying to fall. He blocked the door open with his foot and the doors reversed from closing in time for him and Jahnni to scurry in. Jahnni quickly scanned her badge, put her code in, and then she placed her print on the pad. She started banging on the “door close” button repeatedly. Then she kept pushing the ‘B’ for basement. Her fingers were shaking, as her mind kept flashing a picture of Perry’s door only a few feet away. Too fearful to even look toward it, she kept her focus on the buttons and willed the metal doors to begun closing. Mr. Tropopoulis stood between Jahnni and the door, with his hand against the frame. She closed her eyes to scream in her head, please badge, work! Please be online already!

  The office door banged open and pounding feet lumbered toward the elevator. At the same time, the elevator doors began to move towards each other. Perry ran towards the door, lunging his arm forward but his fingers missed blocking the closing elevator doors by a hair’s breadth. Jahnni kept pushing the close button, hoping to override the button commands on the outside of the elevator door if Mr. Prattle tried to punch the down button over and over. When the elevator began to move downward, she leaned back against the wall of the elevator, saying nothing, but smiling in relief as she felt her pounding heart begin to slow its rhythm.

  The elevator seemed to be moving in slow motion. Jahnni’s mind raced as she reached to comfort Mr. Tropopoulis. She thought she could feel Mr. Tropopoulis’s heartbeat as she took his hand into hers. Or was it her own pulse keeping rhythm? She kept thinking over and over she must get to Beau and the others, although she wasn’t sure if they would still be there waiting.

  Mr. Tropopoulis just stood there with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry Janie. They will not find us. I can get us out of airport now, and we will be safe. Please trust me. I am old man now in body, but my mind is alive and very well! I know... what you call... cool shortcut!”

  With that, Jahnni decided to trust him. She saw it in his eyes. She saw it in Beau’s eyes too. She could trust them. She would trust them. Together, they’d find safety and figure out who to trust “out there.” The only thing she thought to do when they reached the bagwell floor, or basement as the elevator called it, was to grab something to wedge in the door so that the elevator doors won’t be able to close. If they couldn’t close, the elevator wouldn’t operate and return to the floor where they just escaped from. She thought that might buy them some more time before Mr. Prattle realized that the elevator was not coming back.

  Chapter 17

  Meanwhile, in the Bagwell

  “How long should we wait here, Mr. Harleyman, I mean Beau? And why didn’t you do something? You have a gun. You could have stopped them from taking Jahnni and Mr. Tropopoulis,” Samantha demanded.

  “First, a gun doesn’t mean you are the automatic winner. They had guns too. Brains before brawn. I had to choose between hope that I could take over the situation, and knowledge that possibly you, Jahnni, Crutch or Pops could have been shot. We have time. Patience and time wins before guns and confrontation sometimes. As for how long to wait, if they don’t come back in the next few minutes, I’ll grab the bag those security-looking guys missed and we’ll crawl out through the opening up there at the ticket counter and get help for Jahnni and Pops,” Beau answered Samantha before adding, “If something happens to Pops, I will spend my life hunting down everyone who is responsible.”

  Samantha and Crutch looked up at Beau, a confused look on their faces. Sam began to ask, “Why do you feel so responsible for...”

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Beau said at the same time that Sam started speaking, but stopped and lifted his head up to the sound of light footsteps running in their direction. It sounded like someone jogging softly... on tip toes. The three sat back in the cart. Beau released his weapon from his side and faced the area where he heard the footsteps echoing. He waited, his gun a last resort if the same uniformed guys that took Jahnni and Pops saw them in the carts.

  Closer and closer the footsteps sounded before they stopped. In the new silence, Beau listened more intently. Sam held onto Crutch, pulling his head into her shoulder, and burying her face into his hair. No one moved. They waited.

  “Whirrrr... reep, reep. Whirrrr... ah ah ah ah reep reep,” came the sound of a bird somewhere near.

  “Whirrrr... reep, reep. Whirrrr... ah ah ah ah reep reep,” Beau answered in half whistle, half throated answer.

  Samantha whipped her head up and stared at Beau with her mouth hanging open. “What the...?” she mouthed with wide eyes, as he in turn smiled back at her.

  Crutch simply whispered very low, “Cool bird call.”

  Beau put his weapon back in the holster and started to climb out of the cart. Sam grabbed his arm and shook her head in a wide-eyed silent protest.

  “It’s okay. Jahnni and Pops are back. It’s safe,” he said as he touched her arm to assure her.

  Jahnni came around the corner, holding Mr. Tropopoulis’s hand. She had led him into the bagwell where they all embraced. Beau hugged Pops and kissed the top of his head when his hat fell off, but then reached down, picked it up and placed it back on Pop’s head. Beau made eye contact with Jahnni, narrowed his eyes a bit and smiled, shaking his head with relief. They didn’t say anything, but Beau felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders, if only momentarily.

  Finally, he reached for her hand, and rested his other hand on her shoulder and whispered, “Thanks. I won’t forget this.” Then he brought her to him in a relieved embrace, still holding her hand to his chest.

  “I won’t either.” But after an awkward pause, Jahnni pulled away and looked up at Beau, shook her head and then added, “Especially once I find out how you two know the same bird call. Plus, we have so much to tell you. Mr. Tropopoulis says he knows a shortcut to get us out safe. But first, I still want to try again to go up the belt to see if it is open at the top because that still might get us out. Those security guys, Benson and Craigs, will undoubtedly be back here soon, so we need to hurry. They are crazy and dangerous! Well... maybe not Craigs, the big one, he probably won’t be back. Mr. Tropopoulis kind of rendered him useless, but I will explain that later.”

  “No,” Crutch interjected as he paced in place. “What happened Mr. Tor... Torpop... Troppleupagus? Tell us what happened.”

  Mr. Tropopoulis looked at Crutch with a gentle gaze, “It’s no important right now. But we tell you soon. Oh, you can call me Mr. T. I think it easier to say than confusing me with big furry elephant.” He chuckled, almost in a whisper then nodded to Jahnni and Samantha al
so.

  Chapter 18

  So Much to Say

  So Little Time

  After they listened for anyone coming, and checked around the corner, Jahnni moved quickly to the bag carousel and pulled herself up through the first opening that normally would be spitting bags out onto the carousel belt. Then she began crawling on her hands and knees toward the curve up near the ceiling, knowing that she would be able to get a better view of the ticket counter opening, up above; if it was not shut and locked that is. It’s a long shot, but just maybe the counter agents forgot to secure the bag belt gate in all the commotion before they evacuated. Certainly, a major security breach, but in the pandemonium, someone could have made a mistake. She glanced down at the knees of her pants, and paused long enough to glance at her hands. Ugh! I look like I have been crawling through pencil lead, and chalk! she thought. Jahnni decided there wasn’t any time to worry about that now, so she continued crawling up and around the corner. There’s too much light coming through the rubber PVC curtains. That’s a good sign, she told herself. That means the belt door is open.

  When Jahnni got to the top, she peeked through the heavy strips to see where she could go to. There was a gap in the counters between First Class Air’s ticket counter and Southwest’s that was to the left of this bag gate. It gave her a view of some of the area in front of the ticket counters. She could see a bomb sniffing dog leading its handler. Homeland Security agents or FBI she wasn’t sure from this vantage point, were gathered about 20 feet from her. Since the tall ticket counters were directly in front of her, she imagined that if they all hurried, they could exit together and approach the police to explain what has happened to them. She couldn’t believe her luck that safety was only a minute away, or rather however long it took Mr. T to crawl up the belt. Maybe I should go out now and let them know that there are four people still left down there that need protection. And I’ll be able to let them know about the FBI agent with us and tell them about Perry Prattle. She put her hand on the rubber curtains, ready to part them and stick her head out as the next pair of officials started walking towards the ticket counter. It is now or never, she convinced herself. She had just decided to go for help first. Help was only a few feet away. She leaned forward and started to part the rubber curtain to climb out.

  That voice! I know that voice! Jahnni thought as she slowly set the rubber PVC curtain back so it wouldn’t sway. What is he doing?

  “Yes! He’s right over there by the public elevators sirs. He is resting an ice bag on his head. Quick! He needs to be taken to the hospital!” Mr. Prattle ordered as the EMT’s pushed what sounded like a squeaking gurney past the ticket counter. “Officers, I would like to wait until the FBI gets done with those people over there so I can explain this to you all. Oh, never mind, here they come now... Okay, I am Mr. Perry Prattle, the Port of Portland Manager here at PDX. Like I just told one of our Port Police officers, there were originally two employees that I had identified by their badge access who I believe are heavily involved with this situation. They even had the audacity to access my office and accost one of my security guards when he challenged them. That’s him right over there, officers.” Mr. Prattle said breathlessly as he pointed to the big menacing Mr. Craigs. “They said something about a bomb, and blasting the water fountain in the food court. Then something or other about hearing them talk about some other accomplices... having help on the inside... and about their accomplices wearing some type of white over-garment and carrying big firearms of some sort. He was a little rattled trying to get his bearings and give me a report when I found him on the floor.”

  Mr. Prattle stumbled over the words motoring off his tongue. “I pulled up security footage and thought I recognized the two in white, so I pulled up their badge access of the security doors and then their badge photos... along with these other two. Basically, they are sick individuals. I can barely piece this all together. They need to be captured because the airline agent held a device in her hands that I can only imagine is a bomb activation device. And she bragged to my officer, right before she assaulted him, that she is armed so he better not follow her. She has a gun, officers... In a secured area... She has sneaked in a weapon...”

  His story seemed to grow as he talked on and on. Jahnni was beginning to get confused herself, listening to his concocted tale of woe.

  “The entire area has been locked down but I bet they will try to activate their plans by accessing the water fountain. Take no chances at apprehending the lunatics! I am very concerned that we need to finish doing a complete evacuation of the building now. Not just passengers and most employees, like we have already done.” Then he finished passing out copies of their pictures to everyone there. “Here, this is their official badge pictures and descriptions. These two are holding three other passengers as hostages, but I am not sure of the hostage’s names yet. I do know that one is an innocent child. A U.M. You know... an unaccompanied minor whose parents entrusted the airline to care for him during his travels. Poor family. They must be distraught. Maybe I can get the U.M list from the First Class Air Station Manager and we can have them begin calling to see which U.M. hasn’t been accounted for yet. This one here,” he pointed to Jahnni’s photo, “she is the one who is armed and has some type of device in her hand. You’ll probably have to shoot her at first sight, before she fires on your own officers first,” he offered.

  It sounded to Jahnni as if he was hoping that they would do just that. What should I do? What if they believe him and shoot us! She searched her mind, racing through options, but with everything she thought of, she kept imagining them all being shot before they could explain. She craned her head a little closer without disturbing the curtain.

  She could see the side of the FBI agent as he held his hand up and said “Let us do our job and you do yours. Thank you for this critical information. We’ll get it to the special agent overseeing this investigation here at the airport right away.” Then the FBI agent began talking into his SAT phone and waving his arm, shouting directions to other people somewhere. Everyone began moving away from the counter and their voices began fading. It was pandemonium that Jahnni had never heard, or seen before. Her mouth hung open in complete shock. She could only see visions of running for help, only to be shot for approaching an officer. Oh, my gosh, how are we going to survive this mess? she cried in her head. That liar! There must be a way to safely get out of here. Maybe once we’re safe, we can negotiate and get them to listen to us... maybe they will believe us and see that Mr. Prattle is the one who is lying! But why would they believe US? How can we prove that HE is the one that is behind all this? Maybe they’ll believe Beau. Ya, Beau can talk to them! I need get back to the others. I hope they’re still safe.

  Before Jahnni backed away, she saw Mr. Prattle standing there alone, looking around with a worried frown on his face. Probably wondering if they bought his convoluted story. Faker, Jahnni thought. I hope they didn’t believe you.

  Jahnni started to quietly back down and away from the opening, fearful that someone would hear her. Mostly, she feared the dogs being sent to get her. Once she got to a section that was wider, and no longer a flat rubber belt, she turned around to face the direction she could start rolling in a sitting position. The rollers sped up her descent and she came around the bend to another rubber belt that she had to start crawling on again. When she had previously climbed up, she straddled the rollers by placing her feet on the outer edges. Before coming around the last bend of the belt, she waited and listened. Not hearing anyone, she finished her descent and dropped onto the bagwell’s carousel belt. After a long five seconds, Beau walked out from behind a cart, put his arm around her and held his other arm out to the others.

  Sam whispered in a pleading voice, “You took forever! We were beginning to think that something happened to you! I thought maybe you got caught by those two guys again!”

  “No. Well, one of those guys is on his way to the hospital thanks to Mr. T. He saved us! But we have to get
away from here!” Jahnni whispered quickly. Then after a short pause to stare into Beau’s comforting green eyes, she let out a calming breath and went on, “The Port Manager is the one who held us upstairs. And not because he is a good guy. He has some weird plan I don’t understand, and he said, because we got in his way, he planned on...” she paused when she looked at Crutch but finished the other part of her story, “but we got away! There is so much we need to tell you. He is up there telling the police that we are the ones who have a bomb and we are crazy and he is so worried for everyone! Can you believe that? He is blaming all of this on us! Mainly me. He told them that I had a gun and was also going to blow up the fountain... I mean... what an evil man this guy has turned out to be,” Jahnni whispered so loud, her voice began to crack. Tears sprung up in her eyes even though she told herself she wouldn’t cry. She was beginning to feel void of hope, but as she started to tell Beau that, she looked at him and realized that even though she didn’t know what to do, that he certainly would. She gazed into his eyes again and felt that calming sense of safety, which was exactly what she needed.

  Beau turned to Mr. T. “So, you said you know a way to get us out of here? You really know a secret way, Pops?”

  “Yes! You must trust me, Beau and Janie! I can help,” Mr. T pleaded, looking at Beau and then turning to Jahnni before adding, “I used to, uh, work here many years ago, when I was a younger man.”

  “That’s good enough for me. Okay, lead the way Pops. Oh wait...” Beau said as he reached into the cart they sat in before. “This... is a family heirloom. This bag comes with us!” And the scratchy, itchy bag that bled oranges and browns together into a woven pattern of obsolete fashion was now in the possession of Beau. He started walking with this bag, and Mr. T held the other one that he had grabbed from the Port Office. He clutched it close to his chest and started walking towards the corridor, as if he really did know where he was going.