in which I get radio interviewed

Kirtland

Jennifer was driving herself back towards the Kirtland aerodrome airfield. The job she had just been on was not something she would typically do. They had asked her to step in because they needed somebody who could relate easily to a British woman, and they needed to make fast progress to make contact.

Clare’s car had made its way back to Albuquerque. The driver had made good progress, and they were now close to the train station in Albuquerque.

“This is where we will make the switch into the taxi” said Jennifer.

Bigsy and Chuck were sitting in the diner. Bigsy was marvelling at the authentic 1950s look of the place. At least he imagined it was a 1950s look. 

 'Nothing could be finer' it said on the menu. And it featured blue plate specials, too. 

Durango 


 “Jennifer has given me an address in a place called Durango” said Clare, “ It’s supposed to be like a safe house we can stay in, and there is another vehicle there for us to use. It’s only supposed to be around two hours from here, but I think it’s across part of the desert.”

Jennifer accompanied Clare into a briefing room. It had frosted glass walls and a central table, complete with a telephone system. One wall had flip charts, and there was a full projection system built into the ceiling.

"Is this being recorded?” asked Clare. 

"Yes," said Jennifer, "And filmed. The record stays here though. They won't be removed unless there is an emergency."

Clare had woken early at the hotel in Santa Fe around 6:30 AM. She thought it was the time zone difference that had caused her to wake early but then realised that someone was knocking at the door. She went to look through the security keyhole and could see that it was someone delivering room service breakfast.

 Using the security chain, she slightly opened the door. 

 “Good morning, room service” said the waitress, “with the compliments of Chuck Manners.” 

Bigsy exited the hotel first. He was carrying his backpack which now had a small extra content of tee shirts. 

 He made his way across the square through a garden area with a small bandstand and tourists who were taking photographs and sitting on the grass and various chairs surrounding the square. A guitarist was busking for small change from the passers-by.