Previously: Digger and Twain arrived in New York and set out to recon the museum. And now…
â€œSo how did it end?â€ Digger asked.
â€œAll the time you took in the van,â€ Digger said. â€œIt didnâ€™t take you that long just to change into a suit. You were listening to the end of that show, werenâ€™t you?â€
After Digger had finished telling the story of Frog Boy, the two of them had tried talking for a while, but had little to say to each other. Finally, Twain had turned the satellite radio receiver back on. But since Digger had forbidden a return to the 80â€™s music channel, Twain had instead listened to an old-time radio channel. It wasnâ€™t entirely Diggerâ€™s cup of tea, but wasnâ€™t bad for the drive.
The past 5 hours or so had been spent listening to a marathon of episodes of this kidsâ€™ show, Captain Zero. Apparently, these were â€œlostâ€ episodes that had been found in a garage somewhere and supposedly hadnâ€™t been heard since they were first broadcast in 1948. They were on the next-to-last episode when Digger had stepped out of the van so Twain could change clothes. Twain had spent an extra-long time changing. Digger knew Twain wasnâ€™t shy, so he figured Twain was carrying some sort of secret weapon he didnâ€™t want Digger to know about. As long as he didnt use it on civilians, Digger didnâ€™t care.
â€œZombie attack on Pearl Harbor,â€ Twain said. â€œBut Captain Zero figured out how to kill them.â€
â€œHey, if you couldnâ€™t be bothered to listen to the show, I canâ€™t be bothered to explain it to you,â€ Twain said.
â€œI just didnâ€™t want to wait,â€ Digger said. â€œWeâ€™re on a limited timeline, you know.â€
â€œDonâ€™t worry, weâ€™ll save the hostage,â€ Twain said. â€œWe have plenty of time.â€
â€œHow can you be sure?â€ Digger asked.
Twain just smiled again. â€œWeâ€™re here.â€
Digger looked up. The building was ornate enough, with its arched doorways, but much smaller than heâ€™d expected. â€œThis is it? Itâ€™s like a model of a museum.â€
â€œTold you it was small,â€ Twain said. â€œThe beauty part is, their security probably sucks.â€
â€œYou mean no pressure sensors or laser grids?â€
Twain shook his head. â€œDonâ€™t have anything valuable enough. Not that they know of, anyway. Letâ€™s go in separately. Nothing fancy, just walk through the galleries and keep an eye out for cameras. See you inside.â€
Twain crossed the street and entered. Digger followed a moment later. Inside, the museum was cool and dark.Digger could almost hear his eyes sigh in relief after the sunâ€™s glare outside. His relief was short-lived when he saw the counter in front of him, however.
â€œThatâ€™ll be fifteen dollars,â€ said the attendant at the counter, a slim, pretty black woman with straight hair swept severely off to one side. Her bored eyes flicked down to his hands, swathed in bandages and held in slings, and she was suddenly much more empathetic. â€œAre you okay?â€ she asked.Then she stopped and looked at him more closely. â€œDo I know you? Havenâ€™t we met before?â€
How does she know Digger? Is the jig up? Find out tomorrow in our next episode!
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