by Kurt Winans
Being the bright and determined young girl that she was, Savanah had found a way to overcome such obstacles by striking a deal with her parents. On the Monday morning after the Halloween festivities, Savanah made an unusual request at the breakfast table before heading off to school. She was willing to give up the idea of receiving any other Christmas presents, if she could have just one in the near future. She wanted to attend the Aggies game at LSU in less than two weeks, and her proposition was met favorably. Kyle brought the matter to the attention of Samuel, who was pleased to learn that his granddaughter had developed some negotiation skills. Within minutes he contacted the university president of Texas A&M, and soon after reported to his oldest son that five tickets for the night game in Baton Rouge were reserved for them in the visiting team administrative suite. Samuel then proceeded to secure hotel rooms that would be used after the game by family members, his personal pilots, and the new flight attendant that had finally been vetted and hired to replace Domonique.
Savanah held the hand of her mother Ashley as they walked into the administrative suite in Tiger Stadium. Then in an immediate show of her appreciation for what would soon transpire, Savanah reached out to shake the hand of her host while thanking him for her ticket to the game.
Although surprised by the actions of a modern day youth, the Texas A&M president looked down and replied, “Well you’re welcome miss. I hope that you enjoy the game.”
Savanah smiled in response before turning her focus toward the field of play. Although there were only a few scattered players from each squad visible during the pre-game warmups, but something about them immediately caught her eye.
Then while pointing at the field, she exclaimed, “Hey grandpa. Look, the Aggies are wearing their maroon shirts!”
Moving from the side of his old friend toward the front window, Samuel crouched down next to her and said, “That’s right sugar. But remember, it’s not a shirt, it’s a jersey.”
“Alright grandpa, but aren’t the Aggies supposed to wear white when they play at another school?”
“Yes they are, and they do everywhere but here in Baton Rouge. Now perhaps you don’t remember, but when the Aggies played here two years ago we watched the game on the television. They were wearing their home maroon uniforms that day as well.”
“They were? I don’t remember that.”
“Well it’s true, I promise.”
“I believe you grandpa, but why do they get to wear maroon here?”
“Well sugar, there’s an old rule in the Southeastern Conference that the home team can wear white at home if they want to. Most teams would prefer to wear their colors instead, but LSU is the only team that I can think of that likes to wear a white jersey whenever they can. Now you know that both teams can’t be in white, so the visiting team usually gets to wear their home colored uniforms like the Aggies are today. Understand?”
A short time later, a massive American flag which needed to be held aloft by dozens of people nearly covered the entire field as the national anthem was played. As in most other similar circumstances, the flag was moved up and down by those securing it so that the motion would create a waving action. In unison nearly the entirety of those in attendance sang along to the anthem of their nation, but all was quiet within the administrative suite of the visiting team. Those dozen or more individuals were not disrespectful in any way, they just remained quiet. Then when the entire Texas A&M team took the field a few minutes after the flag had been removed, there was an overwhelming chorus of boos from the partisan LSU crowd. Although such a response was to be expected for any visiting team at nearly any stadium across the land, this particular inhospitable welcome carried additional venom.
Victoria listened and waited for the jeering to subside, but it seemed to go on and on. Turning to her host she asked, “Has our team received a welcome like this during every road game this season?”
“Well, no. Our first road game was a non-conference contest in El Paso, so that reception was quite different than this evening. Although they still wanted to beat our team, the folks at UTEP were actually very respectful. I could be wrong, but I believe that was due to A&M being the new military academy of the republic. That’s speculation of course, but perhaps well justified. I have heard that teams from the Air Force, Army, or Navy have received a similar level of respect for decades when they visit another institution because of what they represent for America.”
“That makes sense I suppose, but what about the Aggies other road games?”
“Well, those three were rougher. Each of those games was at an SEC school, so the fans were a little more passionate in how they expressed their feelings. Now just so you are aware, I’ve been informed that other schools from the Big 12 Conference such as TCU and Baylor have experienced a similar response wherever they have played outside of Texas. In addition, I’ve learned that there always seems to be a humungous American flag present for those specific games. Unfortunately, based on those reports and what I have personally witnessed at our road games of Arkansas, Mississippi State, and Vanderbilt, we haven’t heard the worst of it yet.”
With amazement Victoria asked, “You’re kidding. It’s going to get worse than this?”
“I’m afraid so. The fans were relentless even beyond the end of the game in Starkville and Nashville, but not so much in Fayetteville. Of course that might have had something to do with Arkansas having won the game, or that their state borders our republic, but I couldn’t say for sure.”
As the game began, Victoria turned her attention more to the reaction of the crowd than that of what was transpiring on the field. Every time that Texas A&M had the ball, or there was a break in the action, the crowd would chant “Texas sucks, Texas sucks” and build upon the volume until it was nearly unbearable.
By the start of the second quarter, Victoria leaned closer to Samuel and stated, “Listen to that, they are going way beyond the normal spirited jeering of an opponent.”
Nodding in agreement he replied, “Well Vic, the fans in Baton Rouge have always had the reputation of being passionate about their Tigers.”
“That may be Samuel, but do you think that they do this to every visiting team?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Samuel, do you honestly think they chant Kentucky sucks or Tennessee sucks?”
As he listened more closely to the raucous and abusive jeering which continued at a deafening volume, Samuel replied, “Well perhaps you’re right Vic. But I have no way of knowing if this is normal or not. Maybe they are just as rough on Auburn, Florida, or anybody else that comes here.”
Victoria leaned in close to him again, and whispered, “This can’t be a normal response to visitors Samuel. I think that these people here in Baton Rouge really hate us.”
“Well I don’t think they hate us per say Vic, just the team.”
“Stop kidding yourself Samuel, and just listen closely. Their behavior goes beyond the dislike of a visiting team or they would be chanting that A&M sucks. I believe that this level of hatred they are displaying is directed at Texas in general.”
When halftime finally arrived and the Aggies had left the field, the noise level dropped substantially. Trailing only 10-6 they still had a chance, however LSU was known for great defense. The intermission show included paying homage to veterans across America in response to the designated holiday for them of two days prior. Along with a moment of reflective silence, there was a special ceremony for the pilot from Louisiana who had been killed on New Year’s Day during the Syrian campaign.
The man who had been born and raised in nearby Zachary, graduated with honors from the ROTC program at Louisiana State University before embarking upon a career as a pilot in the Navy. For those who had somehow missed the connection between this particular evening and his death, the pilot had been shot down while on a mission in response to the terrorist attacks upon America. In just a few short hours, the calendar would reflect that one full year had passed since t
hose horrific acts had created the need for his sacrifice. Within the ceremony which included displaying his image on the giant scoreboard, the wife and parents of the fallen pilot were presented with a memento in his honor by the university president and a fellow pilot from the USS George H. W. Bush. As a result Victoria was suddenly transported backwards to the memory of the most horrific day in her life, and she did her best to fight back the tears.
When the teams emerged from the locker rooms for the second half of play, Texas A&M was greeted with the same fervor of distain as during their pre-game entrance and the entirety of the first half. Samuel noticed the discomfort in Victoria, and that Ashley didn’t look very well either. However he knew that they were both courageous women, with an understanding that these few hours within the stadium were more about Savanah than anything else. As a consequence they would endure the brief discomfort for the benefit of the youngest Tillman, even as the chants of “Texas sucks” relentlessly continued.
In sensing that it was probably the most prudent course, Samuel contacted his pilot at the conclusion of the game. The man had been watching a separate game on the television in his hotel room, but his relaxation time was now over. Although rooms for the night had been rented for the Tillman party, and their respective luggage placed within, none of the beds would be used. Once Samuel and the family could safely return from the campus of LSU to the hotel, they would gather their belongings and head for the airport.
As for the pilot, his instructions from Samuel were clear. He was to prepare the plane for a return to Crockett, as the family would not wait until morning for their flight home.
Throughout the two weeks since she had accepted her current mission, Kristen, with some assistance from a few others, monitored the off duty habits of Agent Bishop. Their collective reconnaissance provided Kristen with an angle which she felt could be exploited. She learned that her target was a man who regularly enjoyed a brisk run of several miles in the early mornings, and it was inconsequential to Kristen if Heath did so for the physical or mental health benefits which were derived from the effort. Kristen had also been running for several years, and from her point of view, having Heath see another person involved in the same activity could be an excellent method to create the chance encounter she required. Therefore she moved forward with the belief that once Heath had identified her as another passionate runner; he might initiate contact. If such an advance upon her were to transpire, then Kristen could begin the job of developing their introduction into a relationship.
Based on the distant and covert observations of Heath with binoculars and a stopwatch, Kristen noted the time intervals between certain landmarks that his typical pace established. Subsequent practice runs on her part, at times when she knew that he would not be present, had helped Kristen to establish her own required pace.
Then during the early morning of November seventeenth, Commander Calvin Foster, dressed in civilian attire, peered through binoculars while Kristen continued to stretch.
After spotting Agent Bishop in the distance, he turned toward her and said, “Alright, here he comes. I estimate that you have about twenty seconds if you still want to have a sizable lead on him.”
Standing upright to then slowly jog in place, Kristen replied, “Thanks. I’m ready when you give the word.”
Nodding in agreement, number twenty-nine returned his gaze to the target and said, “Ten seconds. Five, now get moving, and good luck Lieutenant.”
Dressed in the appropriate running attire which would enable her to be recognized as a serious exercise enthusiast, while also highlighting her well-toned physical form, Kristen moved onto the wide footpath which circled the Tidal Basin. She estimated that Agent Bishop would be approximately one-hundred yards behind her as she first set foot on the wide concrete walkway, and based on the curving portion of the path, would not have noticed when she did so. At the pace Kristen then set, it would take him at least a few minutes to close the distance. Unless there was some rogue person that she hadn’t seen during her observations of several early mornings, Kristen knew that she and Agent Bishop would both be setting faster paces than any of the other joggers. Therefore her hope was that when Heath got closer, he would be intrigued by how difficult it was to eventually overtake her.
The plan worked; as it was nearly five minutes before Kristen could clearly hear footsteps within twenty or thirty feet of her. She turned her head to the left with a somewhat amazed look on her face to make quick eye contact, but said nothing.
After a few more seconds she looked over her shoulder again, and said, “Wow, you’re really moving. I’m not accustomed to people closing on me while I run.”
Heath smiled and replied, “You set a quick pace as well. It wasn’t easy catching up with you.”
As Heath then drew even to her on the left side, Kristen said, “Thanks. I’ve been slowly building up to this pace for several months, but it feels really comfortable now.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad it’s working out for you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I can keep up with your pace. I still have a few miles to go, so I don’t want to risk an injury by going any faster right now.”
Before slowly pulling ahead, Heath said, “I understand. That’s a good strategy for the long haul. So have a nice run, and maybe I’ll see you again.”
A few minutes later when Heath had increased the gap to roughly fifty yards, he turned his head quickly to see if his new acquaintance was still there. Kristen revealed no emotion or facial expression as he did so, but inwardly she smiled. Then she thought to herself, after a couple more of these encounters, he will slow to match my pace.
Kristen had been correct in her assessment. The following morning, and the one after that, Agent Bishop had slowly caught up to her before finally passing on the left. Each time he had been courteous while offering simple good morning wishes and a brief exchange of conversation. Then on the fourth such encounter during a more crowded Saturday morning, Heath lingered for an extra moment. Knowing that her bait had finally worked, Kristen said, “Thanks for not making me look so bad today.”
Intrigued by the statement, Heath asked, “How do you mean?”
“You slowed down for me, and didn’t just pass me like I was standing still. So thank you for that.”
With a smile in her direction, he replied, “Miss, I can assure you that you do not look like you are standing still. You run a brisk pace that is certainly faster than all of these other folks out here.”
“You mean except for your pace. And it’s Kristen by the way.”
Heath realized that he had inadvertently backed himself into a bit of a corner. He could potentially work his way out by simply wishing her a good day and picking up his pace again, but that just wouldn’t sit well. Another option would be to freely admit believing that he was a superior runner, but that would serve no productive purpose. To do so would invite the risk of being viewed as some sort of jerk in her eyes, especially since he had lingered for an extra moment as if toying with her. That was not his intent, and preferred to be thought of as a gentleman.
Therefore he asked, “Would it be alright if we ran together for a while?”
With a smile on her face, Kristen replied, “Sure, that’s alright with me. However I do have one condition.”
“What’s that Kristen?”
“That you tell me your name.”
Feeling rather foolish at his neglect of an introduction, he replied, “Well that’s fair enough I suppose. My name is Heath.”
Throughout the next two weeks, Kristen and Heath continued to run together whenever possible. They began to learn a little bit about each other, although both remained somewhat guarded. Heath didn’t want Kristen to know that he was a Secret Service Agent, while she was feeding him a false identity via a cover story. Kristen understood that the less she told him about her supposed life, the easier it would be for her to remember what had been said. Eventually Heath asked her if she wanted to have coffee
or something, and she agreed to meet the following day for lunch. When Kristen arrived Heath was amazed. He hadn’t seen her in anything other than running clothes and shoes with her hair pulled up, but now she stood before him in a nice knee length dress with heels while her long brown hair flowed freely over her shoulders.
The lunch and extended conversation moved the budding relationship in a positive direction, and as November then turned to December, they began to see each other when time availed during the evening hours. However based on work schedules, be they via cover story or in reality, the morning runs were still the most reliable means for almost daily contact. Then with each passing week Heath noticed that Kristen was able to rearrange her time more often so that the frequency of their occasional drink or dinner could increase. This was a good thing in his eyes, and although her recent and convenient flexibility of time might have been a red flag in most circumstances, he didn’t recognize it as one.
When Heath asked her a few days before Christmas on one of their runs what her plans were for New Year’s Eve, Kristen replied, “Well I don’t have anything specific planned if you’re asking me to go out. I do enjoy being among the masses in the evening hours if the weather isn’t too bitter, but I also usually prefer to be back indoors someplace a little before midnight. That way I can view the television coverage of the Manhattan madness and the ball dropping in relative comfort. What about you?”
“Well for a long time I didn’t want to do anything on New Year’s Eve. It just didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me, but lately I’ve looked at it a little differently.”
“What’s changed Heath?”
“Nothing specific, and like you, I still prefer to be in by midnight.”