Screen Secrets, part 4

   Beverly Baxter crossed her arms and scowled at the men tied to the chairs facing the Boss's desk. The line of girls next to her were feeling more confident after the Boss had intimated to the bad guys that the last thing they should have done was to mess with what amounted to his extended family. Ed cracked his knuckles to further intimidate the two blackmailers. Crewcut remained oddly calm, though Les was beginning to squirm.

   "You don't know the laws of your country very well," Crewcut lectured, "you can't touch us." Crewcut put on a brave face, but there was a slip in his voice which betrayed a growing nervousness. The Boss smiled before walking over to the door and calling Sally. He rattled off some instructions to his secretary and the pretty little blonde took off. He turned back to the room and rested his fists on his hips.

   "We know you're part of a larger ring. Suppose you tell us how many? What exactly is going to happen and when?"

   "I can't tell you anything, Boss!" Les blurted. "He's going to hurt Katy if I do!"

   "Where is your sister?" Ed asked.

   "I don't know," Les insisted, "he's got her hid somewhere. If I don't play ball..."

   "Kidnapping on top of everything else?" Henry shook his head. "You must have the biggest chip in the world on your shoulder, Crewcut."

   "I haven't harmed her. She's safe. She'll remain safe as long as Sutter cooperates with us."

   "Who's 'us' anyway?" Roger took a step forward. "Who are you? Who are you working with. Or should I ask who for?"

   "I'm not telling you anything. There's nothing you can do to us."

   "Get down off your high horse," Roger crouched next to Crewcut to face him, "you might be a red, but you're no spy. Not a real one. Your work is far too sloppy. That tells me that you're not the mastermind here. You're just spouting lines fed you by a real spy. I'm guessing you concocted this whole episode to get in good with the enemy. But I have a feeling you're not in with the crowd yet. How many are you?"

   Crewcut kept defiantly silent. Sally returned to the office with a bundle of cords under her arm and a small blackboard. Les looked on in confusion. Steve and Henry were handed the cords and instructed to tie the two men to their chairs. Soon, Crewcut and Les were strapped down with their arms wrapped behind the chair backs.

   "What are you doing?" Les was in near panic. The Boss knelt down between the pair.

   "Crewcut delights in telling us we can't do anything to you. And we're not really going to do anything to you. Still, we need some answers and you're going to provide them. Show 'em your claws, Ed."

   Ed smiled and extended his fingers before shaping his hands into talon-like claws. Ed had sharp fingernails like Roger once had, and they indeed looked pretty dangerous from Les's point of view.

   "You said you weren't going to do anything to us!" Les protested.

   "We're not, really." The Boss handed the blackboard to Ed. "Have some fun, Ed. Everybody else cover your ears."

   Ed scratched the blackboard, filling the room with a harsh whine that set teeth on edge. Even Crewcut had to squirm as the the board was raked. Ed kept at it. Yes, it was comically simple, but it seemed to be effective. Les begged for Ed to stop. Crewcut held out longer, but grit his teeth as the sounds became more and more unnerving. Crissy held her hands tightly over her ears. She wondered how a mousette like Daisy could even stay in the room, despite having grabbed and handkerchief and a scarf and stuffing them into her ears. Les was on the verge of tears as he begged Crewcut to cooperate. Ed leaned in and scratched at the board in such a way as to send the annoying noise directly into Crewcut's ears. 

   "Alright! Alright!" Crewcut yelled. "I'll tell you the whole thing, but stop doing that!" Ed relaxed, but he held a claw at the ready if Crewcut needed further encouragement. The procedure was more physically taxing than it probably sounds. Crewcut had to take a few breaths to reorient himself.

   "Well?" Minerva scowled.

   "You're right," Crewcut began, "I'm not working for the reds, but I have a chance to get in good with them if I can deface C.B.I.P. and it's stars. This studio is seen by many as symbolic of America. A lot of leftist powers would like to see you taken down a notch. Katy Sutter has sympathies. Most of this was her idea."

   "My sister isn't a communist!" Les insisted.

   "No," Crewcut confirmed, "but she's easily swayed. It didn't take much to convince her that your movie stars are all unfairly privileged. Getting her to play along was easy, because she's in love with Scott Karble. He's the third member of our group, the assistant publisher at Headliner. Headliner produces subversive tracts among other things. Scott told me about the idea of targeting C.B.I.P., and what Katy's brother did for the studio. We concocted the scheme."

   "Katy is behind this?" Les was crushed. He turned to face the girls, unable to make eye contact with any of them. "I'm so sorry. I thought Katy was being held prisoner and I had to play along to keep her safe. I'll tell you everything. We have photos taken in private at the Carter and Chestnut homes. Along with all the other materials you know about, they're in three packages ready to be sent out if the right telephone call is made."

   "Where are the packages now?" Henry asked.

   "Karble has them. He's got them waiting somewhere, to make a call if he sees you approaching the Headliner office. If Katy's involved, she's probably keeping an eye on the packages, but I don't know where."

   "What about this number?" Beverly opened one of the magazines to the page with the number she was supposed to call. Les nodded. 

   "That's Karble's home number. Katy must be there with the packages!" The Boss reached for the telephone.

   "This line is tapped, isn't it?" Les nodded again.

   "So is Sally's. That was the most difficult part of the whole scheme."

   "I'll call the police from the drug store," Ed offered, "as soon as we know Katy is unable to make her move. She'll have to leave the house to get the packages into circulation, but if we can surround her first..."

   "Where's Karble's house?" Henry asked. Les hung his head in defeat. Crewcut did the same. In short order, Karble's house was surrounded and the packages in the hands of the local police. Moments later, the Amsterville authorities raided the offices of Headliner Publishing. Miraculously, none of the offending materials got into circulation, but plenty of evidence was uncovered which put Crewcut, Karble, and Katy behind bars. Because he was forced into it, Les wasn't arrested. The Boss and the others didn't press charges against Les. He did, however, have his office taken away and his position as department head removed. Busted to the trenches, the Boss figured his still having to work with the girls he'd wronged was a better punishment than outright firing him.

   The assembly of friends who had been involved in the affair burned the magazines and other materials in the studio's incinerator before returning to their homes. That device had proven a good investment in getting rid of the studio's waste materials. In the Chestnut bedroom, the hole in the wall was temporarily covered by a huge bureau pushed into place by Henry. Even with the bureau in place, Sugar still felt very self conscious. She figured she would for the foreseeable future. It was a similar story at the Carter house, where Misty made sure to hang overcoats and blankets over the pictures hanging on the bedroom walls. 

   "I think you're over-doing it," Ed sat down next to Misty on the bed, "all we need to do is plaster back over the hole and all will be back to normal."

   "Will it ever be back to normal? Really back to normal? We take our privacy for granted, Ed. Maybe we shouldn't. We're prime targets for anyone who wants to try this sort of thing again."

   Ed put his hand on Misty's back and rubbed gently to sooth her. Misty leaned into Ed and rested her head on his chest.

   "We can't live our lives in fear, Misty. Remember what the Boss said. We're never alone in our battles."

   "I know, Ed. I can't stop thinking about it, though."

   "Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you." Ed quoted. Misty smiled. Ed was right. The pair sat there for a while, Ed wrapping his arm fully around his wife.

   Daisy walked into her bedroom, but paused to look around. So far as she knew, her house wasn't part of the spying operation, but the very idea had shaken her. Daisy couldn't quite bring herself to change for bed. She then thought of the same scripture Ed had quoted to Misty. Daisy relaxed and began to disrobe. 

   At the Baxter house, Jeannie and Beverly tried to resume their regular routine to ensure some normalcy. They were watching television while munching on a big bowl of popcorn. During a commercial break, Bev turned to her sister.

   "Just what was that big plan of yours? You never told me."

   "You said the spies were like the Blob, increasing in size, unable to be destroyed. That got me to thinking the best way to fight a monster is with another monster. I thought we might be able to intimidate them into leaving us alone by putting on a front that we had powerful friends they didn't know about. The Boss kinda did what I was thinking when he threatened Les and the other guy by telling them about how many people they'd ticked off. The idea was to scare them into backing off."

   "Who's idea was the chalkboard?"

   "I think the Boss came up with that on the spur of the moment. Pretty sharp."

   At his house, the Boss stood at the bedroom window to look out at the lights of main street in the distance. His quiet little town had been spared. Would there be similar plots to shut down in the future? Would they be far enough ahead of the bad guys next time? He lit a cigarette as he let the warm evening air comfort him. His wife, a sensational young platinum blonde, stepped up behind him and placed her arms around his chest. He pulled her around to the front and kissed her. He looked at her, then back to the lights in the distance.

   "It was really close," he said as he turned back to his wife, "thank God it worked out the way it did."

   "Do you think they'll try again? From what you told me, it sounds like the enemy has a real problem with the studio."

   "They have a problem with America based on principal. C.B. International is just a symbol of it. They may try something in the future, but God willing we should spot it early enough to take it down. We trust Him, not ourselves. It all worked out smoothly this time, and should anything like this happen again, we have no reason to believe it won't work out fine the next time."

   "I can't help but feel sorry for the girls," she rested her head on his chest as she hugged him tightly, "what must they be going through?" The Boss turned his head back to the window. What indeed? He prayed for their comfort that night.

   A similar discussion took place in the Morrow house, where Patty wondered if the events of the day had left a mark on her husband. After seeing such a twisted attack on the virtue of his friends, would he have any romantic feelings that night? Or would his thoughts be consumed by anger, pity, or fear? Steve indeed was hesitant to express his appreciation when Patty stepped into the bedroom in a beautiful sheer gown, but the events of the day really served to remind him of just how beautiful love is. It can't be conquered by evil, no matter how desperately evil tries. Steve pulled Patty close.

   "I try to let you know every day that I love you," Steve began, "well, I love you more tonight. When one is confronted by ugliness, it only makes beauty that much more glorious. I don't mean your physical beauty, although you have more than your share there, but I can see afresh just how good you are, Patty. Goodness is sexy. And sadly, I don't think the enemy is capable of understanding that." They kissed.

   At the Ralphwit home, Crissy took stock. Her bedroom had a huge window, and it was almost always open. They had no neighbors to worry about disturbing. She'd always enjoyed the privacy of her home, but knew now how much she'd taken all of it for granted. Roger stood in the doorway and watched his wife as Crissy looked out the window. Crissy turned to Roger.

   "I can't imagine what Ed and Misty are going through tonight. Or Henry and Sugar. For them, the whole world must feel upside down right now."

   "If that IS the case," Roger walked over and placed a hand on Crissy's shoulder, "it'll pass. Routine has a way of catching up to us quickly, comforting us with the familiar. I'm not making light of the situation, but I know it'll pass."

   "What you did today was really wonderful," Crissy stood and placed her hands on his shoulders, "I'm glad that our friends reached out to you. I'm so proud of you for leaping right in and doing everything you could for them."

   "We have some wonderful friends in this town, Cris. That's something that's always worth fighting for." Crissy wrapped her arms around Roger and squeezed him tightly as she buried her face in his chest. He stroked her hair as he wondered how the others were doing. These were nice people who had been treated so badly. That makes the offense seem even worse. The thing the enemy fails to figure out about a seemingly soft target, though, is that nice people can shake off an attack. What is perceived as weakness is actually their strength. 

   At her house, Minerva quietly puffed a cigarette as she studied the photos in her albums. She'd been the subject of thousands of cheesecake pix since her joining C.B.I.P. and she'd seen them used against her in the most unflattering way. Steve's photos had a special quality to them, though. Here wasn't a salacious uncovering of the subjects, but a celebration of feminine beauty. Sure, there were those out there who would never be able to see it, never see Minerva or her friends as anything other than objects to be desired physically. They didn't speak for all their fans, however. One can't focus on the negative aspects of human nature. Life is to be spent embracing the better part.

   Minerva closed the photo album and leaned forward to extinguish her cig in the ashtray on the coffee table. She stood and walked over to the window. It was a beautiful night. The stars were shining through sparse groupings of cloud which were illuminated by the moonlight. Minerva smiled. For the first time all day she felt happy. Her friends had rallied to her side to defend her. That was what she decided to remember from this episode. She was blessed, and prayed blessing on all who had blessed her that day. What began as a dark moment had become a celebration of the wonderful. The enemy had lost.

THE END