"Yes dear," she said, still talking to Sonja.
"And that room you call your office, Jesus. You have more equip- ment in there than . . ."
"It looks like more than it is . . ." Scott downplayed the point. "Mainly communications. The local phone company is a joke, so I installed an uplink. No big deal."
"C'mon, man, I just can't see you sitting on the sidelines."
Tyrone stressed the word 'you'. "Not with what's happening now?
There must be a thousand stories out there . . ."
"And a thousand and one reporters. Too much noise, too busy for my liking. After the Homosoto story, if there's one luxury I've learned to live with, it's that I can pick and choose what I do." Scott spoke much too reserved for the Scott Mason Tyrone knew.
"Aha! So you are up to something. I knew it. I gave you one, maybe two months, but I never figured you'd last three."
They carried the four plates laden with steaks and potatoes over to the table where their spouses waited. Fresh beers awaited their much appreciated efforts.
"I do get a little itchy and I read a lot." Tyrone glared at Scott with disbelief. "No really, just a little research," laughed Scott in mock defense. "O.K., I received a call, and it sounded kind of interesting, so I've been looking into it."
"Poking around, here and there and everywhere?"
"Kinda, just following up a few leads."