Lycanthrope Club Vignette - Paranoia, epilogue

The waitress smiled brightly as she approached the booth.

“Here you go,” she said, carefully placing the still steaming plate on the table.  “One short stack.  Anything else I could get you?  More coffee?”

Sergeant Wojewodzic glanced up at the bubbly young Latino woman from his newspaper and shook his head.

“That’ll be all, ma’am,” he said.  He hesitated.  “Actually, could you bring another menu?”

“You…want to order something else?” inquired the waitress.

“I’m expecting someone,” he explained.

“Ah, alright,” she said, nodding.

The waitress sauntered over to the cash register and returned carrying a large, colorful laminated sheet.  She placed it on the table besides his plate of pancakes and walked off.  Sniffing, Sergeant Wojewodzic folded his paper, put it down and reached for his napkin.  He glanced around the diner.  It was fairly crowded, mostly older couples, though there were a number of families and even some teenagers – nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday morning.  Shrugging, he poured a dollop of syrup on his pancakes and dug in.  Halfway through his meal he saw a figure pass through the entrance – someone who was making little effort to blend in and didn’t care.  

The figure approached him.

“Sergeant...Woju…Waje...”

“Wojewodzic,” he corrected, sighing.

Sergeant Wojewodzic gave the newcomer an appraising look.  He was dressed in a well-tailored dark-grey suit with a red tie and carrying a briefcase.  He had a young-looking face but a short, stocky figure and businesslike demeanor.  His hair looked like it had been plastered on rather than combed.

“You must be special agent Benjamin,” said Sergeant Wojewodzic, extending a hand.

Nodding, agent Benjamin gave him a perfunctory handshake and sat down in the booth opposite him.

“I wish we could have met somewhere more private, sergeant,” he remarked, glaring at a passing mother and daughter.

Sergeant Wojewodzic raised an eyebrow and then shrugged.

“I’m just here to welcome to Pinebrook and confirm your credentials, not discuss classified intelligence,” he said calmly.  “It’s close to the airport and I happen to be fond of the place; my daughter and I came here for dinner the night after the Childs girl went missing.  We can go over the more sensitive particulars later.”

Saying nothing, Agent Benjamin placed his briefcase on the seat beside him, opened it and started filing through the documents contained within.  Sergeant Wojewodzic cut another piece from his stack of pancakes and took a bite, watching him.  A few seconds later Agent Benjamin placed a folder embossed with a United States seal on the table and slid it over to him.  Still chewing, Sergeant Wojewodzic took the folder, opened it, and peered inside.

“Not exactly a healthy choice,” remarked Agent Benjamin.  

Sergeant Wojewodzic, who was in the middle of swallowing, gave him a sour look.

“Do you want anything?” he said, gesturing at the menu the waitress had left.

“No, thank you.”

Sergeant Wojewodzic flipped through the papers, scanning each one.  Agent Benjamin sat there, fingers laced, with a neutral expression belying a modicum of impatience.

“Everything seems to be in order,” said Sergeant Wojewodzic eventually.  “Your identification appears to be valid and your credentials check out.” He put the folder back down on the table.  “Now, do you have any additional questions or can I get to my breakfast?”

Agent Benjamin frowned.  For the first time since he arrived he looked uncertain, or at least thoughtful.  

“Well, how is your daughter doing?”

Sergeant Wojewodzic paused midway through a bite, staring at him in surprise.

“Not the sort of question I had in mind,” he said, putting the fork down

“I apologize, sergeant, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” interrupted Sergeant Wojewodzic raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture.  “All things considered she’s doing pretty well.”  He chuckled.  “I grounded her for a month and took away her keys to the vault for the stunt she pulled but we’re getting along.  She’s certainly become more social – both her and Cassandra.”

“The Childs girl?”

“Yes, her.”

“Most of her friends are members of this NALA organization, correct?”

“Yes, they are,” said Sergeant Wojewodzic warily.

“And are you or do you consider yourself affiliated with this organization as well?”

“Agent,” began Sergeant Wojewodzic, leaning forward.  “You’ve clearly done your homework so you already have my answer.”

“I just want to confirm what I read in the reports,” said agent Benjamin reasonably.

“Then you know that I am not associated with NALA beyond my role as a liaison, my daughter’s relationship with its membership notwithstanding.”

“Is she a member?”

“Yes, she is, as you’re already aware,” sighed Sergeant Wojewodzic.

Agent Benjamin looked at him askance.

“So she has been…” he cleared his throat “…converted, as they put it?”

“No, she has not,” said Sergeant Wojewodzic slowly.  “As stated in the reports, NALA membership includes both converted and non-converted individuals.  My daughter, incidentally, has expressed no interest in being converted and neither has her friend.”  He paused.  “Look, can we cut the crap?  Are you just being thorough or do you have some concerns?  If it’s the latter I’d rather hear them now.”

Agent Benjamin was silent at first.  Then, he leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“The only reason we haven’t taken a more active role in this whole affair yet is because, frankly, it takes a lot of time and effort to convince someone it isn’t a joke.  However, once the full ramifications of what’s happening here filters up to the top, things will get very messy.  There are going to be a lot of questions, particularly regarding why more precautions weren’t taken and are not being taken.  And with good reason.  This…phenomenon poses an unprecedented security risk to the United States and we’re expected to leave things in the hands of a group of high school students and their families?”

Sergeant Wojewodzic considered this.

“First of all, things are going to be messy no matter how we handle it,” he replied.  “Second, those high school students and their families don’t want to handle everything by themselves.  They were planning on contacting the government even before the incident with the Childs girl.  They just want to be involved in the process.  And we need their cooperation.  We’re going to disagree with them on some points but we have to work something out.  The genie’s out of the bottle, agent, and if we try to stuff it back in we’ll just make things worse.”

“That’s not your decision to make, Sergeant,” said Agent Benjamin, shaking his head.

“It is my studied opinion,” replied Sergeant Wojewodzic.  “Up until now they have been extremely accommodating.  If stronger measures were taken I don’t know how they’d react, but even a few individuals could cause a lot of trouble.”

“That’s precisely the reason why we feel relocation is the-”

“Relocation would be one of the stupidest moves the government could make,” interrupted Sergeant Wojewodzic.  “Currently we know the identity and address of every member of NALA.  If we try to move them some individuals will object and if we force the issue some individuals will escape.  Then we are left with a situation where anyone on the street could be…one of them.  It may seem contradictory, but I think the best way to control this is to grant them some degree of autonomy.  Think about the Japanese internment camps during World War II.  What did they accomplish?”

Agent Benjamin frowned and gazed down at the table, tapping his fingers. Then he spoke, this time no more than a whisper

“The Japanese-Americans weren’t seven-foot tall wolves with poor impulse control, borderline immunity to conventional weapons and the capacity to reproduce like a virus.”

He took the folder sitting on the counter, slipped it in his briefcase and closed it.  After flicking its latches shut he scooted out of the booth and stood stiffly, adjusting his tie.

“Nice meeting you, Sergeant Wojewodzic,” he said.  “We’ll speak more tomorrow.”  He reached into his suit pocket and handed him a small white card.  “I’ll be staying at the Best Western over on Smith and Howe, room 283.  If you need to contact me you have my number.”

With that, agent Benjamin turned and left.  

Sergeant Wojewodzic sat there for a while in silence.  The waitress from before approached his booth with a curious look on her face.

“Has your friend arrived?” she asked.

Sergeant Wojewodzic stirred.

“Uh, yeah,” he said uncertainly.  “But he had to leave early.”

“Aww, that’s a shame,” said the waitress.  “You sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“Just the check,” he said.

“Sure thing.”

A couple minutes later she returned carrying a small plastic tray with a receipt and peppermint on it.  Sergeant Wojewodzic fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

“The tip’s there,” he said, rising.  “Thank you, uh,” he read her nametag, “Lily.”

“My pleasure, sir,” said Lily, grinning.

Nodding, Sergeant Wojewodzic walked towards the exit.  As he passed through the diner door Lily’s smile slowly faded.  She hurried towards the kitchen, dodging past a portly short order cook.

“I need a five-minute break,” she cried as she slipped out the rear exit.

Standing out in the parking lot, Lily pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.

“It’s me,” she whispered softly into the phone.  “Yeah, he was there.  I heard everything.”  She paused, playing with her skirt.  “He didn’t sound…very supportive.  He was talking about relocating us.  Yeah, Phillip was right.  We’ll need to work on him tomorrow.  No…no, I don’t think her dad recognized me.  We haven’t been to any of the same meetings and he hasn’t seen the complete membership list yet so I think we’re gold.”  She grinned.  “You know, Melinda, I’m starting to enjoy this.”

The End