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Epilogue I - Ford
"Carl, this is delicious," Jake said, in between bites of mushroom noodles.
"Thank you," Carl said, bowing courteously. "A special meal for your last night in Canada."
"And, no offense," Ford said, "but I can't wait to get back."
"Back to the crime lords and car chases, eh?" DB asked.
"Car chases?" Jake coughed. "In San Francisco traff..."
"Yes, that's right," Ford said, elbowing him in the ribs. "Speeding car chases and exciting gun fights. Just like Karl Malden and Robert Wagner."
"I'm just sorry you didn't get to meet Chuck," HG said, sipping on a cup of hot tea. "He's really not a sociopathic maniac in a big truck."
"I'm sure he's not," Ford said. "Besides, I'll get to meet him when you guys come down to San Francisco."
"Oh no," HG said. "If I ever go south of the border, it'll be to someplace quiet, like Boise; someplace safe."
"You mean you consider rampaging centaurs safer than rampaging, drunken 49'ers?"
"That's a tough call."
"Right," Ford said. "Speaking of which, what'd the hospital say?"
"A pair of broken ribs, and a semi-permanent 'My Little Pony' marking," HG replied, rubbing at his side. "I might have gotten off easier had Camus not been wearing those thick shoes. I'm supposed to be on 'light duty' for the next two weeks."
"Light duty for a superhero?" Jake asked. "What's that, letting your partner take all the crap?"
"Nope," DB said, "that wouldn't change anything."
"Watch it," HG retorted. "Well, Special Agent Ford, it's been ... interesting ... working with you."
"I could say the same thing," Ford replied. "But, like I said, I'm looking forward to getting back to San Fran. It's pretty up here, but too different for me. It's like a whole 'nother country. The 7-11 clerks actually speak English here."
"You've just been to the wrong parts of town," DB said.
"What about farting clowns?" Jake asked, cupping a hand to his ear.
"Food, good," DB said to him.
"So Dean said that Myron will be sent back to Maple Ridge on Tuesday," HG said, shifting topics.
"Good," DB replied. "We need more criminals like Myron up here."
Just at that moment, Carl appeared at the edge of their table. Behind him was a generic Django Djava waiter pushing a television on a dessert cart. Without saying a word, Carl pointed a small remote at the television.
"... Said that no serious collateral damage was done to the site. Canadian and American special agents were tipped off to the planned terrorist action and arrived in time. Alaska Governor Tony Knowles said that he, personally, has received threats from extremist groups, but still supports the development of a natural gas pipeline. Knowles also said that he is withdrawing his support from Octan in favor of BP, citing BP's history of ecological responsibility in the state of Alaska. In a press statement released earlier today, Octan Oil and its parent company, Octan Global Holdings, said that this latest act of terrorism was just one in a long string, and demanded more protection from both the United States and Canada for developing oil and gas operations. No terrorist organizations have come forward to take responsibility for the attempted attack on the Rousseau Bay site, but sources believe there may be a middle-east connection. For Maple Ridge On-the-Scene News, I'm Lola Lakefront-Property. Back to you Dan."
"In other news," Dan said, with frowny reporter expression, "debate continues regarding a proposed two-dollar toll for a new Fraser bridge..."
Carl cut him off with a click of the remote.
"Well gentlemen," Ford said, raising his glass of tea above the table. "A toast to a successfully closed case, and to Governor Tony Knowles, who changed allegiances faster than a Frenchman."
"To Tony!" the four said, with a clinking of glasses.
"Um, Chris," Jake said, as they exited the plane, "I don't think you'll need to call a cab."
Standing at the end of the runway, their arms akimbo, were Lorna and Karen. Jake and Ford both tucked their heads down and inched toward them.
"I was going to apologize for flying to Denver and missing the concert," Karen said. "But I guess that wouldn't be necessary, huh?"
Jake looked at her for a moment, then they both laughed and walked off, arms entwined. Ford watched them go, and then turned toward Lorna. Her expression was blank; Ford expected the worst. Then, much to his surprise, Lorna put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him deeply.
"Well," he said, as she pulled away. "I guess you're not mad?"
"Mad?" she asked. "No, I'm not mad anymore. I was mad, then I realized that a few days of peace and quiet without me would do you good."
"Peace and quiet," Ford echoed. "Yeah, that's the ticket."
"Besides, you're going to make it up to me by taking me to Berkeley to see 'Beauty and the Beast.'"
"Aw no," Ford said. "Can't we go to the opera? Or an art exhibit? Anything but a musical."
"No, that's your punishment."
"All right, I guess I can live with that."
His arm around her shoulder, they headed to the baggage claim.
"Listen," he said, "I really have been thinking and..."
"Shush," Lorna said, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear about it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I figure that, when you're ready, I'll hear about it."
"Oh."
"Besides, I know you're not going anywhere because I know about your Sailor Moon fetish."
"Blackmail, my dear," Ford said, pulling her close and giving her a noogie. "That's precisely why I love you."
"Because you're afraid of me."
"That's right."
"Come on," Lorna said. "We'll go home, open a bottle of port, put on a tender love ballad by Fred Schneider, and you can tell me all about your trip."
"So Lambert exploded when they told him?" Jake asked as they crossed the street to Pac Bell Park.
"They didn't tell him," Ford replied. "They just took the case from him and closed it. But the funny part was Lambert almost crapping his pants when the CIA walked in demanding to see his files."
"I wish I had been there."
The two hopped out of the way of a Muni train, then dodged a speeding cab before hopping up onto the curb in front of Pac Bell park and walking over to the hotdog vender.
"Gimme two polish and a Carffee," Ford said to the vendor.
"One polish and a Pepsi," Jake added.
The vendor nodded and reached into the steaming water of his cart with a pair of tongs.
"Hey wait," Ford said. "You're not Rick. Where's Rick, the guy who usually runs this cart?"
"Oh, I bought it from him," the vendor replied. "I used to sell ice cream in Canada, but I just moved down here. This is kinda my retirement."
Three heads rotated as a blonde, clad in the tightest of spandex shorts and a matching sports bra, roller skated past them and toward the China Basin office building.
"And, I must say, the scenery down here's a whole lot nicer," he added, as they watched her skate out of sight. "Name's Norman."
"Nice to meet you Norman," Ford said, handing him a twenty. "We were just up in Canada and I agree, I don't think I'll be going back any time soon, if I can help it."
"Not with some of the people we met up there," Jake added. "Too flighty."
"Sounds like they're birds of a feather with the ones I knew," Norman added.
"Yeah," Ford said. "One in particular took to violence like a duck to water."
"I know what you mean," Norman said. "A real bad egg, eh?"
"That's right," Jake agreed. "We had to clip his wings."
"Yeah, I myself almost ended up a dead duck up there," Norman nodded.
"Canada's for the birds," Ford said.
"Well Norman," Jake said, fixing his polish sausage. "Nice to meet you. Good luck with your new cart."
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