DELAWARE RECEIVES THE EQUINICS TORCH, Saturday, August 26, 2000

The flight to North Carolina was uneventful. I did manage to slug down half a dozen Crown and Cokes in my first class compartment. I had accepted the assignment from Revelation ( Delaware track manager) to provide security in the carrying of the Equinics torch from North Carolina to the great state of Delaware. I had checked my Walther PPK with the airline Captain, and went to collect it from him as I was about to deplane. He smiled as he handed me my trusty, but time worn firearm. "British intelligence, right?" I smiled back and said "retired. Lived in the states for several years now". We exchanged farewells, and I went on to retrieve my bag. After getting my bag, I stepped outside to hail a cab. Got one quickly, got in and said "racetrack, please." The hacks name was Billy Bob, according to the license on the cab's visor. He said "Y'all going to the racetrack in those fancy duds and that porkpie hat and walking stick?" "Haw,haw, haw" "You ain't a clown or one a those funny guys are yuh?" I said "just drive please" in my angry, American-tainted British accent. Arriving finally at Tar Heel Downs (what the heck is a tar heel anyway?), I paid Billy Bob, got out and bought a ticket for the clubhouse. I went up the stairs, into the clubhouse, and sat my tired bones at an empty table.

As my old eyes finally adjusted to the dark, I looked around the clubhouse and OH, MY LORD! Everyone in there looked just like the cast of Deliverance! Overalls, boots, Jeb Clampett hats, shotguns, and hunting dogs everywhere! Hillbillies, like I've never seen before. One particularly strange, toothless gentleman came up to me and laughingly said "you must be that Avenger feller, huh?" Suddenly, all eyes in the clubhouse were on me, with people laughing and pointing at me, and dogs howling too. After the commotion died down, he introduced himself as Desparado, one of the N.C. track managers. "Now Avenger, as a security measure, shout out who sent you here" Desparado said. I shouted, "REVELATION!" Every shotgun and pistol in the place was suddenly pointed at me. "Take it easy folks", Desperado said. "Avenger here said Revelation, not revenuers". Damn. A close one.

Des said, "It's time. Come with me down to the infield, so we can hand over the torch." I followed him down the stairs, outside, then past a number of old pickup trucks on blocks, then a row of outhouses, and finally to the track infield. Just as we arrived there the crowd went wild, as Labreche ran on the track with the Equinics torch, only pausing for a moment to light an old woman's corncob pipe. What a gentleman! Labreche, breathing hard, handed the torch to me and said, "goodluck, old man. "Long ways to Wilmington." That's for sure. I ran off the track, and onto the street to the shouts of HEE-HAWs, WEE DOGGIES, and shotguns firing. So here I am, running down the highway in North Carolina, in my tux and bowler hat, carrying not only the Equinics torch, but my bag, my Walther PPK, and my cane as well. Enough for today, I'm running for my life. we'll pick up tomorrow.

Well, its after midnight on the Lord's day, and I'm still running with the torch down interstate 85 now, well away from Tar Heel Downs, Northbound for Wilmington, Delaware. I managed to change into my local camouflage uniform, a Tar Heel tee shirt, sneakers and some jogging shorts. (Tough changing while jogging down the road.) Got the eye from a couple of birds in a Ford Pinto. Difficult to write while jogging too, but I'll manage. 7 or 8 hours of running were taking their toil on this old cloak and dagger man, so I pulled the cellular phone from my bag and dialed up Revelation.

He answered with a growl "It's 3 A.M., what in the Hell do you want?" I advised him that the other Delaware trainers, who were to be here to help with the 516 mile trek, never showed. We must average 5 Kilometers an hour (3 MPH) to get to Delaware on time, and I am tiring severely. Revelation said " I understand. let me make a few calls. Where exactly are you?" I told him I was on I-85, near Winston-Salem. He said I would hear from "them" soon.

About a hour later, I came to a military roadblock. There were 3 humvees, a deuce- and -a half , a limo and 2 squads of Green Berets. My old friend, Colin Powell stepped in my path. "Give the torch, to this young trooper and get in my limo." he said. Exhausted worse than I ever recall, I followed him inside the huge car. Colin said "By the way, Avenger, your camo is good, but you're as out of place as an elevator in an outhouse wearing that bowler hat with jogging clothes"

Damn. Attention to details. Gotta be old age setting in. "General Powell, I thought you were retired" I said, rapidly changing the subject. "I thought you were too, "Avenger" Powell said. We both laughed and agreed that old soldiers never retire or die, they just act and smell that way. "Avenger", Powell said " I am on special assignment on an urgent matter of national security, as are you, but I'm sure you are not aware of this." "Oh no, not again" I replied."

I have been directed by the President to lend you whatever assistance you require, in this Equinics torch running thing, so I brought the two squads of Army Special Forces with me from Fort Bragg." "I have a detachment of Navy Seals on standby, along with a platoon of the 1st Marines and a couple of Apache attack helicopters from Fort Rucker. Also some Air Guard F4s." Powell said. "What's going on here? World War 3?" I asked. "No, Avenger," said Colin. "Middle Eastern terrorists have hijacked your fellow trainer's chartered plane out of Philly, and our covert intelligence sources tell us that an unnamed Arab Sheik is trying to take over the SIM and steal the torch" "We cannot allow such un-American activities by this group, and will stop them at all cost." "Again, we are at your disposal. All of the young soldiers here are from Delaware" "Damn. I need a drink" I said. "Sure, Avenger. My aide will fix you a Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred, Right?" "No, thats the other guy, 007. I used to drink Champagne, but now its Crown and Coke." I replied. "No problem, Avenger. A double Crown and Coke, Lieutenant" said Powell.

Much to think about. Green Berets taking turns running the torch. Fellow residents taken hostage. Middle Easterners gunning for me. These were my last thoughts before I drifted off to sleep, slowly moving down the road with General Powell in his limo.......

Day 3: Monday, August 28, 2000

THE ORDEAL CONTINUES, WITH A CALL FROM BILL

I awoke with a start,still in the limo, as the Army medic was shaking the blazes out of me. "What time is it?" I queried. He said 0600 hours, Monday. I was shocked to learn I had slept so long. "We thought you were dead" the medic added. "Not hardly", I replied in my best John Wayne voice. I stared at my undrunken Crown and Coke and wanted to cry. Shame to waste the nectar of the Gods. General Powell, reading the Wall Street Journal, glared at me and said "We can haul you to a hospital, if need be, Avenger." "No I'm fine General. I need a further mission briefing" I said.

"On a personal note, Avenger, you need to start working out and watch your diet." "Yes Sir," I replied, knowing I was lying to the former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff . "Alright then" the General said. "You know almost as much as we do about the hijacking. We have every available AWACS plane out looking for your friends." "Uh, friends might be a bit strongly worded here, Sir" I said . "Well then associates, rivals, subordinates, whatever" Powell roared. "Yes" I answered meekly. Then boldly, I said, "You were sent to my aid, but I thought the President and you were on different political sides of the fence these days?"

"Yes, we are" said Powell. "But horseracing is bipartisan. I never knew any racehorse to belong to either party"

How true! what a wise man. "and national security is too" he added. Again, I agreed with this outstanding and knowledgeable military commander. Suddenly, the red phone rang. Powell answered, gave a brief position report and handed the phone to me. It was the President asking to speak to me. "Hello, Avenger", Bill said. "Hi..... Mr. President, I responded. "Not yet Avenger", he said "I may have some time for it later." "Anyway, pleasantries aside, I guess you understand the clout your leader, Revelation, has with this office" "I am convinced, sir", I replied.

"Well, then Avenger, get that torch to him, and on to New York. I'm moving there in January" Bill said. "I will do my best, Sir" I responded. End of conversation.

Damn! I wanted to ask him about cigars and Monica and why he thinks Hillary isn't going to file divorce papers on him after she can no longer be First Lady. Oh well. Guess I can pick up the National Enquirer after this mission ends. General Powell told me the Army runners nearly have gotten us to Raleigh, so I believe we are ahead of schedule.

Time to celebrate with a dozen Crown and Cokes or so. "Hey, Lieutenant!"

Diary continues tomorrow.

Tuesday, August 29, 2000

DELAWARE RESIDENTS RESCUED.. ....JOINING THE TEAM SOON.

I awoke this Tuesday morning with my head pounding from a powerful hangover. Too much drink, I think. Colin told me he switched to Navy Seals as torch runners last night, and we are making excellent time with the fresh runners. Only 10 miles from Richmond now, past the halfway mark. We are still slowly moving North in the limo, down Interstate 85. Will switch >to Interstate 95 in Richmond.

I asked General Powell why the President was so short and cranky with me yesterday. He said he thought it was because he was afraid Al wouldn't get elected, and Bill's much needed Pardon was in Jeopardy.

Much to my delight, I was advised that Delta Force had rescued my fellow Delaware trainers, who were hijacked in Philly. Seems the Middle Eastern terrorists >ordered the plane landed in Denver and surrendered because of the non-stop bickering between the hostage Delaware trainers. The terrorist leader said he would rather be dead than hear the words "training title" or "Raider/Avenger Domination" again. Evidently, most of the arguing was between Raider and Morrissey, with Stretch throwing in an occasional outburst.

Ah, those guys...... Anyway, they are being flown to Washington, then bussed to our then current location tomorrow. It will be great to see old "friends" again soon, and I look forward to putting them to work jogging down the Interstate carrying the Equinics torch.

Time for another drink, so I will write again tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 30, 2000, Day 5.

HAIL, HAIL, THE GANG'S ALL HERE !

I woke with a bloody hangover again this Wednesday morning. Changed back into my tux and hat. After all, I have an image to live up to. I was informed by General Powell that he and the military support would be leaving us as soon as we meet up with the bus carrying the rescued Delaware trainers. It seems Mike Wallace and the unnamed Arab Sheik reached some kind of deal on co-writing a camel racing SIM. So the Middle Eastern threat is over, and the world and the SIM are safe yet again. Shortly after we passed Richmond, Powell, with my thanks and respect, set off for Ft. Lee, in Petersburg, Va. I transferred to a humvee (no A.C., damn it) for the balance of the ride to the rendezvous point, 63 miles north of Richmond, on I 95 enroute to Washington D.C., our next major city. We finally arrived at the meeting point, and the Delaware trainers, starting with Morrissey, took over the torch running duties. Think I'll wear him down then put Raider up and do the same to him, just like the SIM! I dismissed the rest of our military escort, with thanks, and a tip of the hat, to our armed services and the fine men and women that make them the best in world. So here we are, in our bus following Morrissey carrying the Equinics torch at a gruelingly slow pace, fighting on who gets to check their Delaware morning line on the satellite linkup next. We are on schedule, and alive at least. Revelation, who is holding down the fort in Delaware, sent me a case of Crown Royal with the bus. Bless him. We're moving along sooooo.....Bottoms up!

Until tomorrow, theavenger......

Thursday, August 31, 2000


AND, WE"VE REACHED THE QUARTER POLE!

We reached Washington, D.C. today, still on Interstate 95. Only 108 miles to go to Wilmington, even less later today. Should only be 75 miles out by morning. Most all of Delaware trainers, save Revelation and myself, are taking turns running the torch. It ran low during fuel on Raider's stint, so I poured a liter of Crown Royal inside, and it burned like new! Yankee ingenuity? Not! The sheer beauty of being in charge of this mission, is that I get to sip my concoction and watch while THEY run. It's really wearing down the older trainers, right according to my plan. They'll be too tired to even dream entering horses on Sunday. Hee-Hee.

It's hotter than the hubs of Hades outside, so maybe I'll stop our air conditioned bus at the next exit and buy some of that cheap, watered -down American beer for the others. Gotta replace their sweat with something, and they're not getting any of my Crown ration. Bad enough I had to feed one to the torch. We picked up a hitchhiker a few miles back.
Interesting fellow. Says his name is D.B. Cooper, but he looks alot like Andy Beyer. Sure seems to know speed figures and par times in our constant racing conversations aboard the bus. Hmmmm. That name, Cooper, seems to ring a bell too........ Need a drink to help me think. Will check in again at first light tomorrow.

Friday, September 1. 2000 and Saturday, September 2, 2000

DELAWARE COMPLETES THEIR EQUINICS RUN, THE TRANSFER TO THE MOB

This beautiful Friday morning leaves us a mere 75 miles from Wilmington, 5 miles from Baltimore. It has been a long, rugged and dangerous week. Devil almost got hit by a semi during his young (and long) shift. Poor Devil. We are a few hours ahead of schedule, so I'll have Stretch just run in circles for a few hours, when we get a little closer to our home track. Everyone is tired, but prepared to stay up all night tonight to complete our mission. I long for a shower and the other creature comforts, as I'm certain my mates are. The day went well, with Sabalou showing the most stamina. The old trainers, are totally exhausted. (except myself, of course) Woodlyns is hanging in there. Our two newest residents, Bleith and Bradpitt have done very well in this physical test of determination and endurance. Unbridled et al, has made a reasonable accounting for himself. As team leader, I am impressed with everyone in the Delaware camp, and it's easy to see why we excel in the SIM. The night has gone well, albeit long, with me slamming down an excessive amount of Crown, but I have tried to conserve my energy a bit by using a tenth ounce less of Crown per drink.

The Saturday dawn is breaking, and we are now only 20 miles from the fabulous Delaware racing facility. As usual, the last few miles seem to take the longest, so the morning was just dragging by until..... we noticed we had picked up a tail. 3 black limos were following us a mile or so back at our 3 MPH pace. Very strange.

I put everyone on alert, and we watched them follow behind us for hours. Thought about trying to raise General Powell on my cell phone, but the limos kept their distance, so I decided to wait. I did call Revelation to see if his liquor wholesaler could cut me a deal on a few cases of Crown, but he was more interested in our position and the limos following us. Finally we are in Wilmington, with cheers and toasts on the bus. Only a mile to the track, and the handoff to the New York folks. Suddenly, the limos cut across our path, and stopped the bus. Raider was running the torch, and kept on running. 6 large, muscular men in double breasted suits, with conspicuous bulges on the left side of the jackets, carrying violin cases boarded the bus. "Where's TheAvenger", they're asking in an Italian accent. I meekly said I was he. Bruno, the head thug, laughed, and said "look at his suit," and gave me his tailor's card. He then frisked me, took my Walther, and said, "The BOSS wants to see you" Oh no, not again. Four of the mobsters escorted me to the third limo, and I reluctantly got in and sat down. There, with a long, unlit cigar in his mouth, was Fivestar, aka Nick "the tout" Frazzetto, the Capo de Tutti Capi. (Boss of Bosses of New York) Speaking in almost a whisper, Nick said "Lets get right to it Avenger" "You boys have done a good job in Delaware, part of my former turf, since I let Revelation take charge." "Tell him as long as my vig keeps coming in, and the count is right, we're pals." "After all, I am a legitimate businessman" Yes, Mr. Frazzetto" I said. "By the way, Avenger, all I want is respect. You have run in New York, outran and claimed some of my horses, and in the past, bad-mouthed me on the message board" Nick said.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Frazzetto, I will make amends" I said. "I hope so" said Nick. "I like you, you're a good boy" "If I call with a request, understand, I'm making you an offer you can't refuse."
"You could wake up one morning with your best horse's head in your bed with you" "Yes, Capo, whatever I can do for you, it is yours" I said. "Alright Avenger, lets finish this deal then. By the way, see my tailor the next time you're in New York." Nick said. "Yes, Mr. Frazzetto" I said, exited the limo and got back on the bus to catch Raider and the Equinics flame. We caught up with Raider a quarter mile from the track, where he was handing the torch to Revelation, who was going to run the final leg, and hand off the torch to the Mobsters. The crowd roared as Revelation ran onto the track, got to the middle of the infield, and ever so gently gave the Equinics torch to, appropriately, Ronnie "the torch" Jacobson, NY track superintendent.

Our weeklong ordeal completed, we headed to the clubhouse with Revelation to enjoy the day's races ( and a few drinks) at our beautiful and wonderful home track.