It is our policy not to negotiate with terrorists."
I stared at the phone, my eyes wide. I was speechless and very, very angry.
"Are you still there?" The voice belonged to an unnamed official in the NSA. Perston‐Smythe introduced him as one of Cox's supervisors.
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
"It is the policy of this government not to negotiate with terrorists."
"Do you mean to tell me that you consider me a terrorist?"
He sounded almost prim. "Certainly. You've taken a hostage."
"Terrorists," I said, gritting my teeth, "attack the innocent to achieve their goals. If you're about to tell me that you consider Cox an innocent bystander, then this conversation is over."
"Terrorists are—"
"Oh, fuck it! You want a terrorist action so you can consider me a terrorist? There's no way you can keep me out of your nuclear arsenals. Where do you want the first one to go off? The Pentagon? The White House? The Capitol building? How about Moscow or Kiev? Wouldn't that be interesting? Do you think they'd launch?"
His voice was a lot less prim. "You wouldn't do that."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I wouldn't. BECAUSE I'M NOT A TERRORIST!" I slammed the phone down on the hook and jumped.
Stichwörter: jumper
I told her about my revenge on Topper the attempted rapist and the guy at the transient's hotel in
Brooklyn, and, finally, I told her about stealing the money.
"You did what?" She sat straight up in her chair, her eyes wide, her mouth open.
"Shhh."
Other diners were staring at us, frozen in silent tableau, some with forks or spoons halfway
to mouth.
Millie was blinking her eyes rapidly. Much quieter, she said, "You robbed a bank?"
"Shhh." My ears were burning. "Don't make a scene."
"Don't shush me! I didn't rob a bank." Fortunately she whispered it.
The waiter walked up then and took our drink order. Millie ordered a vodka martini. I asked
for a glass of white wine. I didn't know if it would help, but I figured it couldn't hurt.
"A million dollars?" she said, after the waiter left.
"Well, almost."
"How much of it is left?"
"Why?"
She blushed. "Curiosity. I must look like a proper little gold digger."
"About eight hundred thousand."
"Dollars!" The man at the next table spilled his water.
"Christ, Millie. You want me to leave you here? You're fifteen hundred miles away from
home you know.
Stichwörter: jumper
I'd thought about this for a long time. "That bank loses that much money in bad loans every
month. They make that much money in interest every day. They're a big bank. The money I
took was small change to them. No depositor was hurt."
She shook her head. "I still can't approve of it. I don't think it's right."
I felt my face go remote, still. I crossed my arms and felt cold.
She spread her hands. "It doesn't change the fact that I still love you. I've missed you terribly.
I've missed your phone calls, and I've missed your body in bed next to me. I don't know what
to do about this. My loving you goes way beyond my disapproval of your theft."
I uncrossed my arms and reached across the table for her. She leaned forward and we kissed
until the candle burned a hole in my shirt. Then we laughed and I held an ice cube to the
burn and the food came and everything was all right.
Stichwörter: jumper
Davy,
Didn't you realize that the only thing I wanted from Mark was his version of the night you,
well, removed him from the party? I know Mark is a sleaze. I'm not involved with him in any
way, but when you vanished from in front of me, what was I to think?
I don't know if you're even human. For all I knew you fly around in a flying saucer kidnapping
humans left and right. If this sort of jumping to conclusions bothers you, think how much
alternative explanation you offered.
I know you're hurt, and I guess you were hurt even more when you thought I was getting
involved with Mark again. But, dammit, you are doing your share of lashing out, yourself.
Millie
P.S. I still don't know if you are human, but I know that I care for you enough that you can
hurt me. You did.
Stichwörter: jumper
God’s Blessing are more numerous than those growing trees. /Muhammad Abdullah Hassan, Defeat of the Infidels/
Steven GouldStichwörter: inspirational
A hungry man thinks only about how he can feed his family today. He doesn't care that how he feeds them today destroys his children's tomorrow.
Steven GouldSteering is for people who know where they're going.
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