From Ralston's description of Michael Baker, Brad could
be fairly sure that the man wasn't your typical UFO looney.
His operation was well funded, highly structured, and seemed
to be designed to gain factual information rather than
perpetuate hype. Yet, at ten o'clock Brad was going to
pitch one of the most far-fetched stories imaginable to the
man. He knew that if he wanted to get the money to pay
Asher, he'd need something that would convince Baker. Brad
thought he knew what that something was.
Although his meeting wasn't scheduled until ten
o'clock, Brad left his apartment at six. He had expected to
have found what he needed the day before, but had not had
any luck. For nearly six hours he had combed the streets in
vain. When the sun set, Brad gave up his search intending
to start again in the morning.
He had to find Gatewood.
When Brad stopped to think, the situation almost seemed
comical. Here he was chasing a man around a five block
square, knowing all the time that Gatewood might be walking
at the same speed on the other side of the square. No
matter how long Brad walked, he would never catch the man.
The thought had occurred to him to sit in one place and wait
for Gatewood to walk by, but the longer Brad sat, the less
he trusted the idea.
His first bit of luck hit about half an hour after
hitting the street-- and it was bad luck.
As Brad peered into an alley, hopping to spot Gatewood
asleep among the garbage cans, another voice called out to
him. "Yo! Doughnut Man! Hey, man, buy me a doughnut!"
Two bums (not to be confused with homeless) staggered
out of the alley toward Brad. For a moment, a mental alarm
rang in the back of his mind, until he realized that one of
the bums had been in his first group of doughnut customers.
"Hey, man," mimicked Brad, "I'm looking for someone."
"Buy me a doughnut, and I'll help you."
Brad was leery, but he agreed. The bums followed him
down the street a couple blocks to a bakery where Brad
bought a dozen doughnuts. When he stepped back out of the
store he was amazed to find that, somehow, there were no
longer two, but ten people waiting for him. It reminded
Brad of the Pied Piper and his rats.
As Brad passed out one doughnut per mouth, he announced
that he was looking for Bob Gatewood; the guy in the Air
Force field coat. The reaction of the crowd surprised him.
He had expected to hear a dozen wild tales, but instead the
crowd became uneasy-- two of the people immediately ran off.
The first voice to answer wasn't that of one of the original
bums, but instead the quiet voice of a haggard old woman.
"They got him," she whispered.
A tingling sensation crawled up Brad's back, and the
image of aliens from outer space abducting Gatewood, filled
his mind. "Who got him?"
For another uneasy moment, the crowd was silent. It
wasn't the fact that these homeless people weren't talking
that bothered Brad, it was the way they weren't talking.
Each of them seemed to shrink six inchs. They drew their
elbows into their sides, nibbled their doughnuts, and peered
about the street from the corners of their shifting eyes.
"They got him," repeated the old woman.
"It was the FBI," interjected another man.
"They were pirates," called the woman.
"Don't listen to her, she's crazy," offered the man.
"It was the FBI. They were wearing suits, driving an
unmarked car with blackwall tires, and black and white
government plates. One of them was military-- he had blue
pants with a stripe up the leg."
"He was a pirate!" called the old woman. "He had an
eyepatch!"
"It was the CIA," offered a third. "They take you to
their underground headquarters and turn you into a robot."
The three began to argue over which one of them was
correct, yet no one else offered another explanation. In a
way, it made sense: the Air Force was finally trying to
cover their tracks. To Brad, the move only served to
validate Gatewood's claim, but he knew it would make his
story impossible to prove to Baker. It would seem too
convenient that Brad's only witness had mysteriously
disappeared.
Even during the drive to Malibu, Brad never made the
obvious connection.
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