Streets of NYC, Tuesday Evening
Mr. Anderson
Mr. Anderson, in his black suit and dark glasses, shook his head again. "I mean, what are the odds of a licensed pilot and someone who can speak," he checked his notes again, "Ancient Latvian being in the same place at the same time?"
He placed the folder in a metal briefcase and latched it closed. "You gentlemen saved this city today, and in doing so, stopped a chain of events that would have most likely wiped out civilization as we know it."
John
"Really, it wasn't anything, sir," John ducked his head, rubbing a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "We're just glad we could help."
Andrew
Andrew nodded in agreement. "Latvian is really similar to ancient Greek and Hebrew, and I've been speaking those since I was nine."
He nudged John. "Though John is perhaps a touch modest. It was like a freaking video game, the way he was weaving around those building and flying over and under power lines and bridges. I don't think I've ever experienced a rush like that.
"I peed myself a little."
Mr. Anderson
Mr. Anderson glanced down at Andrew and inched back. "In any case," he continued, "you are both heroes. It is highly unfortunate, as I'm sure you both understand, that what happened today can never be spoken of to anyone. Ever."
He looked at them both, very seriously. "You have the gratitude of the entire organization. Now, is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?"
John
"After everything we've been through this week," John glanced over at Andrew, feeling rather responsible for all the minor injuries and current dirty state they were both in. "I think I gotta let my sidekick take this one."
He leaned to whisper in Andrew's ear, "Make it something really good."
Andrew
Andrew's eyes twinkled. "We need tickets to tonight's show of The Tiger Queen on Broadway," he said without hesitation. "It's completely sold out."
[NFI. NFB. I DON'T KNOW, OK.]