Launch on Need by Daniel Guiteras (small books to read txt) 📗

the test conductor, the suit and tool teams would deliver all the necessary equipment to the NBL pool deck.

“Al, come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Stangley said, ribbing his cameraman and turning to start his third bout of knocking at the NBL’s unmarked service entrance door.

“There’s adventure, and there’s I don’t want to lose my job,” Al said. “Remember, different rules apply to my side of the camera. If this little stunt of yours doesn’t go well, I’ll likely lose my job, while you’ll go deeper into the history books as a journalist willing to go the extra mile to get his story.”

“I’m a little surprised at you. All the years we’ve worked together. I thought you had thicker skin.”

“Yeah, well things have changed quite a bit since you’ve been gone, you know, post-9/11 and all. Security’s a bitch. Your little stunts won’t be seen in the cute light they once were. Things are more serious now. Not just here at NASA, but across the country.”

Stangley had begun his fourth assault on the door when it unexpectedly opened.

A maintenance worker, dressed in black work pants and an NBL logo’d polo shirt, appeared in the doorway and immediately raised a flattened hand to his forehead, shading his eyes from the glaring morning sun. “Is everything okay out here?” the man asked. His expression of concern quickly changed to one of skepticism as his gaze fell on Stangley’s CNN press credential.

“Ah, actually, we were wondering if it was possible to reach the NBL pool’s observation deck from here?” Stangley said, feigning innocence.

“You what?” the worker mouthed in confusion, as if it were the most ludicrous question he’d ever heard. The rules for press admission to the NBL had been clearly explained to all workers, at every level of service. All visitors, including members of the press, were to enter only at the designated entrance at the front of the building. Now that the rescue mission was under way, a huge influx of visitors and press representatives was expected; consequently, stricter admission procedures had been implemented.

Before the maintenance employee could even begin his speech about the rules for admission, Stangley hurled another question.

“Let me ask you,” Stangley said, looking down at the man’s ID card. “Andrew, is it?” The man nodded yes. “Andrew, do you think the observation deck would be a good place for us to get some shots of the overall facility? I hear you can get a really great sense of the pool dimensions from up there.” Stangley posed the question not in a rhetorical sense, but as if he needed and valued the man’s opinion.

Somewhat surprised at himself, the man proudly answered. “Yes, of course. I’ve been up there. The view is great, but…”

“Right, well, we’ve been assigned to get some shots for an upcoming program on the NBL,” Stangley interrupted, implying it was NASA-sanctioned work.

“I know who you are; I’ve seen you on TV. But this isn’t a public entrance. I heard banging on this door and thought someone might be in real trouble. That’s why I opened the door.”

“Well, it’s just the two of us, my cameraman and me,” Stangley pressed.

The man reluctantly leaned forward through the opening, assessing the situation, checking to see if anyone was hiding behind the opened door.

“We won’t be more than five minutes, ten tops. You can prop the door, then leave. We’ll even wait a few, give you a chance to clear out. No one has to know it was you who let us in.”

Stangley paused to gauge the man’s response. Before the guy could utter the word “no,” a response Al, at least, thought for sure was coming, Stangley came at the worker with more. “Come on, man, it’s for the rescue mission. We’re all caught up in the drama just like you are. We’ll only be a few minutes, then we’ll go back and join the rest of the reporters at the front of the building, promise.”

Stangley looked back at Al to give him an “I hope you’re watching this” smile, but suddenly felt the door close gently against his toe. He turned back toward the door, but the man was gone. There had been no sound of a heavy self-closing exterior door coming to rest against its jamb, no familiar metal-clunk sound of a latching mechanism, no sound of rejection. Stangley looked down and confirmed the door was being held open by his shoe. Not quite certain whether the man had intended for the door to stay open, he held his hopeful foot in place, and waited.

“I don’t know how you do it, John.”

“Do what?”

“Man, it’s like you stun their brains or something,” Al said. “If someone told me about how you get people to do the stuff you do with just words, you know, I simply wouldn’t believe them. But man, I’ve seen you do it myself so many times. Like the way you get cashiers to accept your out-of-date coupons.”

Stangley’s ability to pass off out-of-date fast-food coupons never failed to amaze Al. Stangley would wait as the cashier read what the coupon was for, such as a buy-one-get-one-free or free drink with purchase. As soon as the cashier glanced down to read the coupon’s expiration date, Stangley would ask in an upbeat voice: “You guys really busy today?” or “What sandwich do you like here?” The cashier would be distracted just enough to let Stangley’s expired coupon right on through.

“It’s like some freaky kind of voodoo,” Al said. “You confuse them with irrelevant questions and statements. Never seen anyone pull the bullshit you do.”

Stangley acknowledged Al with a quick smile then glanced at his watch to mark the start of their wait.

Feeling that his chance to get his exclusive footage was slipping away, Stangley waited only two minutes before slipping through the NBL’s obscure service entrance door.

The men moved quickly through the bowels of the NBL. Stangley followed a crude map, a faxed copy of a sketch drawn on a slip of paper that