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The Golden Boy, the novel

"You have found our free fictional-drama book online!  Enjoy a good book!"

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The Golden Boy, a novel

Fiction Online Book, By Oliver William

Chapter 26  

This day’s speech was a big venue in Atlanta .  We had a stadium full of people waiting for us, as we hurriedly got out of the truck to be on time. The press was there and had the typical cameras and microphones on booms pointing at us and hanging over us, the amount of equipment and attention was high.  “I am a little nervous about this one”, I told Margie, as we walked swiftly up the sidewalk trying to keep from being stopped by the press due to our schedule being tight that morning.  “Why Goldie?  What makes today any different?”  Walking swiftly and talking I said, “The sheer size of this one Margie.  This stadium holds seventy thousand people.  Look at all the cars that are here!  It is jammed packed!  “Don’t worry honey”, she said, “You will be…  Ka Boom!  The explosion was deafening.  I hit the ground as fast as I could pulling Margie down with me, not knowing what had just happened, the air pressure hit me in the chest and hurt my already permanently ringing ears.  Margie fell to the ground as fast as I did, the whole crowd reacting the same way.  The flash of light was intense as if a bomb had just gone off right next to us.  As the crowd of cameramen and reporters hit the ground for cover you could hear the ripple of equipment hitting the ground.  It all had a clatter that lasted well beyond the sound of the explosion and light flash.  A bit dazed from a deafening explosion I was able to turn toward the direction it apparently came from, being so loud and bright it was not obvious at first.  Then I saw it.  Our truck.  It was a ball of fire and not much left.  The black smoke was pluming from the burning wreckage as everyone around us was now turning to see it with the same realization.  My truck had just exploded with an apparently large amount of explosives.  We had just gotten out of the truck moments before, in somewhat of a hurry to make it to our speaking engagement.  We were seconds away from death.  At that moment I felt very sick to my stomach.  My heart started pounding and got stronger as the realization set in.  Laying on the sidewalk, I turned around to see Margie.  She was OK.  That, I was so glad.  But so close; so close to death.  Both of us.  I felt fear for her.  Her look her squarely in the eyes as she stared back at me in disbelief. I could see she was thinking the exact same thing as I was.  Our nemesis had not forgotten us, and now was getting frighteningly close to succeeding.  The press was getting up now and helping the both of us up as they surrounded the truck from our side of where it once was.  Keeping a relatively safe distance, the cameras started rolling again, the press starting to act in full form, all getting in position, reporting on their apparent breaking news story.  The truck was being filmed as it burned, and reporters positioning themselves strategically in the side foreground of the camera view as they started to tell their stories of the event.  Then they started approaching Marge and I, again jumping to the far side of us to get the burning truck in the background.  They never miss a beat, always thinking angle.  It was another exciting news day for them.  They’re back to work on a scoop, just being there.  We had almost died in that explosion and we were badly shaken as we held each other and gazed at our truck.  All I could think was if we were not in such a hurry, we would have been dead.  Marge would have been dead. Oh, My God…  

Local police and state patrol were there in minutes, along with fire departments, ambulance, and rescue trucks.  The place was now swarming with red lights and uniforms.  We were surrounded with officers of the law of all levels and felt the safety of this crowd around us now, as well as the unfolding disaster response excitement.  The reporters were counting down the minutes as they were setting up now, as I realized they were going live to national broadcast.  This was breaking news, television stations felt this was enough to interrupt the regularly scheduled programming and tell the nation about my truck exploding.  We went from sheer terror and fear for our lives and safety, to now feeling like we had just witnessed an event of national importance and we were the center of attention.  With all the buzzing around us my cell phone rang.  “Hello”, I answered, not really wanting to chat with anyone at the moment.  “Mr. Simms Sir?”  I heard on the other end.  I acknowledged it was me and the voice proceeded to speak.  “This is the Secret Service Mr. Simms.  I have just heard you had a threat on your life and want to know if you are alright.”  “Thanks for asking, Mr.?” “This is John Green sir.”  “Well thank you Mr. Green for asking.  We are alright with the exception of bruised knees and elbows from hitting the ground, and ringing in our ears.”  “I am very glad to hear that Mr. Simms, sir.  I am sending Secret Service protection for you as we speak, and they will be there very shortly.  They will be around you 24/7 from now on.  The boys might crimp your style a little bit.  They’re known to do that.  I hope you appreciate their efforts to protect you and request if alright with you sir, that you cooperate with them.  They will be looking out for your best interest now.  They might make protocol requests and you are advised to follow them.  They are best to consult when you make plans too, so they can prepare.  Is that alright Mr. Simms?”  “Well sure Mr. Green.  I guess I have no choice, or should I want to at this point.  Appreciate the protection for sure.”  “I am glad to hear that Mr. Simms.  We also understand you have been living in a travel trailer.  Is that right Mr. Simms, sir?”  “Yes Mr. Green, that is right.”  “We suggest at this point you stay in proper hotels and ones that our staff might suggest for your safety.  A secure hotel is much easier to protect you sir, as it is apparent that someone does not want you to proceed with your Presidential running efforts and is indeed making attempts on your life.  This is not the first event as I understand it, remembering you had arson fires set on your home and business before you announced you were running for President, is that correct, sir?”  “Yes Mr. Green, you are correct.  I guess we should have been warned, but that was the last of the threats, until today.”  “We appreciate your cooperation, and will do the best we can to assure your safety.  They will be there in a few minutes, so expect them, and welcome to politics Mr. Simms.”  “Thanks, Mr. Green”, and before I could speak any further I heard the phone click.   

Within seconds the phone rang again.  “Grand Central Station,” I answered with a loud voice as to make a joke for this next caller.  “Mr. Simms,” I heard in a muffled voice as I could barely hear him, or her, “Yes this is Goldie, Who is this?”  “You’re not getting the hint Mr. Simms.  You do not belong in this election.  Next time I won’t miss.”  With that, the phone went dead.  My heart just gave that big thump again.  My stomach was also getting queasy again.  Margie, now looking at me to see what all the calls were about, could sense something was wrong.  “You’re turning gray Goldie, what is it?  Are you alright?”  Before I could get any words out, several black sedans pulled up all at once. Men in black suits got out of what seemed like every door available of the four door sedans.  With aggressive diligence they headed straight for us.  If I had not been warned it would have been a frightening moment in itself.  The Secret Service had arrived.

The Golden Boy, a novel - Page 27

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