Takin’ It Out: The Last Chorus of a Tune

By Richard Bancroft

Cy and Rane McCormick are on vacation when an unfortunate encounter with a group of hoodlums causes Cy to rely on his military training to escape. But when the thugs follow his family to their remote cabin getaway and begin shooting at them with M16s, Cy puts in a desperate call for help to his friend, recognized jazz saxophonist and fellow marksman, John Skinner. Hours later, John slowly creeps toward the cabin where his friend is held at bay, knowing he is Cys only hope for survival.

John is a devoted family man and owner of a music repair business who has a strong sense of right and wrong. With weapon in hand, John expertly wounds the three thugs surrounding Cys cabin. After the incident and before they part ways, John confesses to Cy that his urge to avenge injustice has led him to participate in several covert CIA missions. Now that Cy is safe, John continues on a dangerous journey where he is determined to use his sniper expertise for the good of mankind.

Takin It Out shares the tale of a marksmans mission to overcome injustice as he courageously protects his friends, family, and country from hostile forces and is led to places he never expected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480811355

Richard Bancroft

Richard Bancroft earned a doctorate from New York University. He has been a music professor, professional photographer, conductor, published composer and arranger, and owner of a musical instrument repair business. He lives on the coast of Maine with his wife, Joyce, and their dog, Siegfried, where he remains a gun aficionado. This is his debut novel.

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CHAPTER 1

IT WAS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY for the last week of June; fluffy, roly-poly clouds, as white as white can be, drifted easterly in a vivid blue sky. Below, on planet earth, people went about their daily lives at a slower-than-normal pace in the sweltering heat. It was the first true feeling of summer, and by all accounts, it was predicted to be an omen of what the coming months had in store for most sections of the country, especially the East Coast. Climates throughout the world were definitely changing. Summers began earlier with temperatures above normal daily, and winters were heating up with little snow one year and double the amount the next year. People couldn’t decide whether it was a good or bad trend, but a trend it was.

Traffic was light as Cyrus and Rane drove their rented SUV out of Scranton toward the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania. Their three children sat in the back. Selina, the oldest at seventeen, was trying to read a map of where they were and where they were going while doing her best to ignore the boys, who were constantly arguing.

At fifteen, Thomas tried to boss around his thirteen-year-old brother, William, without much success. William was growing like a weed and was already the same size as his brother but not yet as strong. Both were built well with broad shoulders on lanky frames. Like their father, they were destined to be over six feet tall, with trim hard bodies and inherited gracefulness of movement. As boys continually do, they tested each other in all kinds of ways: fighting, bickering, pestering, plus a myriad of mental and physical challenges. But at the end of the day, they protected each other from outside harm, helped each other when they needed it, and truly loved their brother. The family unit was a sharing and caring group with each comfortably at ease with the other member.

Cyrus and Rane spent many evenings discussing what to do with their kids to give them a positive experience that would best affect their growing understanding of what life meant, who they were, and who they were to become. All parents agonize over this problem, yet few seem to actually put a plan into effect, and not many bear fruit. Fancy activities such as cruises and tours with complicated travel itineraries, taking the children hither and yon for events that are supposed to enlighten their young minds, rarely succeed. Either the timing is wrong or the activity is wrong for their age or whatever. The reluctant children end up in total rebellion, learn nothing, feel sorry for themselves, and make everyone else an object to heap misery on. It becomes a regrettable experience that is totally negative to all involved.

Cyrus and Rane were determined not to make similar mistakes. They concluded the time was optimum for all three children to absorb the most important lessons about life so they would have a firm understanding of their individual destinies. Agreeing that honor, determination, and a solid personal self-awareness were the keys to life values, the parents decided their young ones needed to see and appreciate the seat of America’s government. The beauty of Washington DC would be inspiring, and the children would also understand the magnitude of operating so large a government.

They planned to visit the major monuments and historical sites without undue rush. The Capitol Building, the White House, the legislative bodies at work, the Supreme Court in session (if possible) were absolutes, as were the Smithsonian Museums of Natural History, American History, and Air and Space. Cyrus also wanted to visit the Vietnam Monument to pay homage to some of his senior friends who had served in that war of futility. He’d been too young but served in the next generation of warriors, following the lead of many men he had gained undying respect for.

His sons had briefly studied the Civil War in school, and both were seriously interested in all its aspects. The problem was that in their school, more attention had been given to the regional history of Native Americans, while the distant conflict received less than satisfactory coverage. All three were fascinated by the Native American problems, as well they should be because their mother was a full-blooded Shoshoni, and Cyrus was half Nez Perce and half Scottish. They were proud of their heritage, but they longed for information beyond their home state of Idaho. Seeing the site of the Battle of Gettysburg was, for sure, a must.

Cyrus and Rane knew this was the most important family outing they would probably ever make, so they decided to use part of their hard-earned savings for the venture. The best time would be prior to the Fourth of July, before the city became packed with throngs of travelers and sightseers. They had consulted the children, with mixed results. They pointed out that it would likely be the only trip they’d ever take as a family, followed by explanations of where they would go and what they would see. The children grew excited. It would be their first airplane trip, as well as their first trip out of Idaho. Then they discussed other possible sites of interest.

Rane smiled inwardly that the idea had been accepted and had evolved into a group decision-making endeavor. From early March onward, they had pondered maps, looked at routes by the car they’d rent once in Washington, read histories of the possible sites and monuments they might see, and generally ignored the time usually devoted to television in the evenings after homework. Everyone was involved in the planning, which promoted cooperation to sneakily invade the kids’ mind-sets. They didn’t even realize the change, but the parents were delighted.

From the thrill of flying to doing Washington, the trip was a huge success. The kids were in awe most of the time, eager like little sponges to soak up every bit of information while relishing each experience. Everyone had their favorite thing, but no single place was more popular than another. The whole family had a shock at the Vietnam Memorial, when they witnessed their father cry for the only time they could recall. He’d known about a few of the fallen heroes, and some had been relatives of men he’d served with during his ten-year military career that began after the end of the unpopular war.

After a week in the nation’s capitol, they drove north to Gettysburg for a full day’s viewing of the sacred battleground where the bloody battle, fought so gallantly by both sides, became the turning point in the Civil War for the Union Army. The war had been a vague classroom concept for the children. Their known world was in and around Idaho, without any connection to ancestors who had been participants. The massive numbers of men killed on both sides in the fields and woods at the site created a chilling effect on each young person. Ghosts of the casualties lingered in the air.

Selina knelt in the waving grasses of one field, and with moist eyes, she said to her parents that the clump of grass she held in her hand had been nurtured for generations by the blood and bones of all the fallen soldiers. The whole family shared the solemn moment. They stood for a long time envisioning the fighting, the dying, and the rebirth of the land.

The stillness ended as Cyrus quietly explained their surroundings and how the armies had moved in the deadly battles and skirmishes. He had studied the Civil War for years as a hobby, so he could help them understand the strategies that occurred. Talking about such military actions had often brought yawns from the children whenever their father brought up new information he’d discovered at dinner. Seeing the place in person made much of what he’d said come alive. As they drove north the following day, everyone agreed that Gettysburg had been the highlight of the trip, even though Washington was almost as good.

Cyrus and Rane were proud that the young children were expanding their personal views of life by serious thinking. They agreed that their decision to not allow any cell phones or electronic games on the trip had been the smartest thing they’d done. Only Cyrus’s cell phone was allowed, and that was only in case of an emergency. The kids had fought the mandate as they planned the trip, but after the excitement of their first flight, they didn’t miss their favorite distractions. Within a couple of days, they had forgotten about not being able to survive without their toys.

Cyrus took the exit from Route 84 to Milford while Rane read the directions to the summer cabin where they’d spend a few days. The cabin belonged to Les Blecker, an army buddy Cyrus had kept in touch with. When Cyrus mentioned they were going to take a major trip east to show the kids Washington and other sites, Les told him he just had to use the cabin. It wasn’t far to New York City and many places the children should see. He wasn’t going to use it until a week after July 4, so the timing would be perfect. Les said that if they stayed long enough, he and his family could drive up from Philadelphia to spend a couple of days together.

Although a bit uncomfortable with accepting such an offer, Cyrus finally agreed. Les sent him directions along with a description of the cabin. Everything they needed was there (food, bedding, and so on), so he wouldn’t need to worry. There were several lakes nearby for swimming, picnicking, and fishing. Rustic comfort with peace and quiet was how Les spoke of his getaway haven. Cyrus was pleased at his buddy’s hospitality. Besides, maybe he’d be able to meet up with John Skinner, a student from four years ago. Cyrus helped John perfect his long-distance shooting skills. He was the finest marksman Cyrus had ever known, and the men kept in contact with each other over the years for updates on family life and events. Their bond was tight, but living a great distance apart, their chances of getting together were pretty remote. However, Cyrus knew John lived only several hours from Milford, so there might be an opportunity to renew their friendship. He’d planned to give him a call.

Driving on the road headed out of the small town into the countryside of tall hills and thick forests, Cyrus said that they should find a place to get some basic food items before they arrived at the cabin, which was about ten miles away, if the directions were accurate. Five minutes later, they came to an intersection with a narrow rural road; a small convenience store and an attached weathered house were the only buildings in sight. He pulled into the dirt parking lot by the side of the front porch and asked Rane what they needed to buy. There was a nondescript pickup truck parked about thirty feet away in the rear of the dusty lot, where several guys were arguing and gesturing at each other. Cyrus gave them no particular notice as he accompanied his wife into the store. Just as a precaution, he told the kids to remain in the car. The children complained they wanted to get out, but to no avail.

The store must have been there for at least a century. No doubt it predated soda fountains, five and dime stores, maybe even the Civil War. From the warped floors to the wood counters and high shelves, it was more than quaint. They stocked a little bit of everything, from hardware to food staples to locally grown produce, even basic over-the-counter medicines. It was close to being a historic icon. It even had a meat counter flanked by a display of DVDs and VHS tapes for rent. Rane was enamored with the place, and Cy opted to go outside for some fresh air that the slow-moving ceiling fans in the store barely stirred.

No other customers had come into the parking lot, so they were alone except for the guys at the pickup truck, who were still arguing. He took a better look at them as they continued their animated conversation. They did not seem too upstanding. Shaved heads, multiple tattoos, ripped-off sleeves of tee shirts, and old military boots below dirty jeans said it all.

As he walked along the building to look at a derelict 1939 Ford coup, they glanced his way. The larger one said in a loud voice, Well, I’m agonna go ask that guy over there and let him settle this once and for all. He walked toward Cyrus with his adversary and the other bystander watching his every move. Uh-oh … damn … I don’t like this. I got a bad feeling. Keep your mouth shut and stay out of whatever they’re into.

Hey, fella, I got a question to ask ya. My pal over there don’t agree with me, so I says we’ll let you decide who’s right.

Cyrus knew he was in an unwinnable spot. No matter what he said, he could see a bad outcome.

Mister, I don’t want to get involved in this, he said calmly. Whatever it’s about is no concern of mine. Best to leave me out.

The guy stepped closer to continue as if he hadn’t heard a word.

I say that our president is a pussy … he wasn’t even born in this country. He says we all gotta have health insurance no matter if we can pay for it or not; he’s making us into a socialist government and maybe even communists; he wants to take our guns away and doesn’t give a shit about the Second Amendment. I say he’s an uppity nigger who wants to be a king and tell everybody what to do. Cyrus was sizing up this jerk as he kept on talking. I say we can get rid of him just like we got rid of JFK. They all are out to take away our rights and we need to fight ’em. My buddy don’t agree so I’m asking you to sort it out. You look like a smart guy; I bet you know all about it. So waddya say?

Cyrus was out of time to think. He wanted no part of any of this; especially since Rane and the kids were nearby, and the situation could turn dangerous real quick. He replied slowly, I really don’t have an opinion, and I’m not going to take sides. You can work it out with your friend by yourself.

That was the best he could do. Knowing what was likely to happen, he was mentally preparing himself. The guy was about six feet four with wide shoulders and forearms like Popeye. He had a mean look in his eyes that told Cyrus it would not be easy.

That ain’t what I asked, Bub. I want to hear your answer … now! Okay, asshole, my answer is that you are an ignorant bastard who ought to keep his mouth shut. Now get away from me.

The guy sprang at him straight on, as Cyrus had anticipated. He stepped left and at the same time used an upward blow with the heel of his right hand to smash into the man’s nose. He tried to not make it a fatal punch—as it often can be—but he wasn’t taking any undue chances. He hoped only the sinuses would be shattered, compared to death caused by forcing the entire bone structure up into the brain cavity. It wouldn’t take long to determine which it was to be. The man threw his hands up to his face, groping for what remained of his nose, as he pitched forward onto his chest.

The other two compatriots watched in astonishment as their big friend crumpled in a bloody heap. One of them grabbed a tire iron as he rushed toward Cyrus, hollering obscenities and swinging the weapon. As the enraged man came close, Cyrus crouched to the ground and whipped his legs around in an arc behind the onrushing attacker. The man fell backward, and Cyrus jumped up and straddled his chest, swinging two punches into the jaw, one from each side. The guy went out like a light.

Cyrus stood up and checked the first attacker to see if he was still alive. He was breathing okay, which made Cyrus give a sigh of relief. Then he went over to the remaining redneck. You … go pick up your buddies and put them in the back of your truck. Then get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see any of you again … understand?

Yes, sir, was the only reply he made before starting up the truck and pulling close to the two prone figures.

Rane had come out of the store at the moment Cy brought the second man down. She watched in awe as he sprang into action, but she was not nearly as shocked as the kids, who had witnessed the entire situation through the car window. He brushed himself off while helping his wife with the grocery bags. After he started the engine, he saw that the two men stretched out in the back of the pickup appeared to be still out cold. But then he noticed the driver talking on a cell phone. God damn it … this is bad news. I think we’re in for a bunch of trouble. Can’t see how it might have turned out differently, no matter what I said or did. He was intent on starting a fight either way. I should have said nothing and just walked away to the car. But I didn’t … Oh, shit … the whole family is at risk because of me. Guess we’d better get out of here fast and find Les’s cabin before some other yahoos show up. Okay gang … the little show is over. I’m sorry you had to see that, but it couldn’t be helped. Let’s get on the road and find our cabin while it’s still daylight.

Selina exclaimed in an agitated voice, That was awesome, Dad. I was frightened when that big guy threatened you, and everything happened so fast. I couldn’t believe it. Where did you ever learn how to … you know … fight like that?

The boys joined in with lots of questions while unable to hide their admiration for their father’s skill. Rane didn’t say anything, but her admiration of her husband was clearly evident.

In a quiet, steady voice, she finally said, Children, your father spent many years in the military, where he distinguished himself by being one of the members of a highly select unit. He doesn’t talk about those times, and he tries to forget the good and bad things that happened. Those men gave him no option, so he had to defend himself. Too bad for them that they picked on the wrong person. Maybe they learned a lesson. She paused before concluding, We’ve always told you that it is best to avoid a fight by any means possible, but if you can’t, then the honorable action is to stand up to a bully, no matter who they are, and defend yourself the very best you can. Now I think we’ve all said enough. You’ve seen something today you rarely will see, and you’ve also learned a valuable lesson about your father as well as about personal honor. The lesson is over.

Listening to the family discussion, Cyrus was inwardly pleased it had turned out okay. The one problem, only he knew, was that he doubted it was over. People like those brutes would not forgive or forget. He just hoped that they would reach the cabin so that the family could find refuge before some kind of retaliation occurred. It was nearing four o’clock when they came to a bend in the road; a narrow side road appeared on the right. He slowed the car and turned onto the tree-canopied road that the directions had indicated. Next, he was to drive a mile and a half, before turning left onto a driveway marked by a psychedelic painted mailbox. It was a dirt and gravel trail that wound through dense foliage and trees on both sides for a half mile before finally opening onto a large field. Across the field stood the cabin: it was anything but small. The log structure was two stories tall and far larger than any cabin they had seen.

Parking on the circular drive by the front porch, they all got out of the SUV as quickly as possible to exercise their legs while walking around the field and house. The grass was already calf-high and would need mowing soon; however, the house and the rest of the grounds looked well cared for. Around back, the building stood about 150 feet from the base of a large rocky outcropping that rose nearly 400 feet. It was part of a long line of cliffs that seemed to stretch for miles.

Cyrus compared the terrain to that of his home state. Man, these mountains sure don’t compare to the Rockies, or the Sawtooth and Cascade ranges … those are higher, with many jagged tops and deep ravines. These are like oversized hills, smooth and worn … like bumps. I guess the Poconos run into the Berkshires or Adirondacks. They must be part of the whole Allegheny Mountain range … not what I had thought they’d look like. Oh, well.

Off to the right was a pond that was fed by a small stream. Lily pads clustered at the far end of its oblong shape, about a hundred by two hundred yards. There was a small overturned rowboat lying on the near bank. Cyrus found the house key hidden under the base of a cement birdbath to the left of the porch, and he opened the front door. They walked into a large living room with cathedral ceilings and a dining area to the left. The center of interest was a massive stone fireplace in the middle of the far wall; it dominated the entire downstairs. After checking out the fully stocked kitchen, everyone ascended the wide stairway to explore the upstairs. There were four large bedrooms and two bathrooms, along with a cozy television area. It was far beyond what they had expected. The vision of a rustic cabin with cots and the bare necessities had been definitely upgraded. The kids helped Cyrus bring in their luggage while Rane got acquainted with the kitchen.

The day had remained balmy, with the temperature about 80 degrees. Tom and William went out to explore the pond, while Selina picked wildflowers around the perimeter of the fields. Cyrus helped his wife prepare dinner and explained briefly that he didn’t think they had heard the last from the misfits he’d had the run-in with.

I think you’re being overly concerned, Rane said. Why wouldn’t they just leave it be? It doesn’t make any sense.

Honey, I would agree, except I’ve met similar guys who defy logical understanding. Such animals, and they are animals in their approach to life, don’t think. They only react. I’d love to be wrong, but I have a gnawing feeling in my gut that says differently. I’ve seen some of the bad eggs back home who banded together in their irrational hate for any kind of government that limits their freedom or regulates gun ownership; these guys seem much the same. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were members of some crazy group. They are all over the country, so I doubt Pennsylvania is any different.

Cy, you’re beginning to freak me out. I think you’re reading too much into the whole picture. If you keep it up, it could ruin the remainder of our vacation. Let’s just enjoy ourselves with the children and forget what’s done … okay?

Yeah, I guess you’re right, Rane. I’m over-reacting, but just be on your toes for anything out of the ordinary, plus keep a closer eye on the kids. I will do the same … agreed?

She nodded her head but couldn’t resist having the last word: Cy, you’re getting paranoid and maybe even senile in your old age.

They both had a good laugh as they finished cooking dinner. The uneasy feeling Cyrus had did not go away. Everyone was tired from the trip’s jam-packed itinerary, so they looked forward to an early bedtime. After the kids turned in, Rane made her final preparations to do the same. After making sure the car was locked, Cyrus checked the security of each door. Everything was fine, but after he turned out the downstairs lights, he lingered by a front window to look around the field. He was most concerned about the edge of the tree-line surrounding the field. The darkness of night was like being in a bottle of black ink. His eyes adjusted after several minutes of peering through the window, and he could just discern the silhouettes of the trees nearest the open field. Nothing appeared out of place until he turned to leave his post and sensed some movement on the far side of the field. He remained still, turning only his neck to confirm the movement.

After five minutes of focused attention, there was no further movement or disturbance. Okay … okay … maybe Rane was right. I’m getting paranoid and making a mountain out of a molehill about today’s fight. How could these guys even know where we are? Get ahold of yourself … a good night’s sleep will fix me up real fine.

With those thoughts, Cyrus went up the stairs to join Rane. As he turned off the lamp next to the bed, Cyrus told Rane to wake him when she got up; he wanted to walk around the property to see what they could do there with the kids besides puttering about on the pond.

Light was streaming in the window when Rane woke him at seven. It took a few minutes for them to recall where they were. After getting dressed, Cyrus went downstairs to reacquaint himself with the surroundings. It was already a beautiful day with a clear blue sky, no clouds in sight, and the temperature in the seventies. No doubt it was going to be a hot day. He walked out on the front porch to allay his uneasy feeling, but it was not to be: Their car had four flat tires with a note stuck under the windshield wiper.

Son of a bitch … those bastards screwed up our day.

Bending down to examine the tires, he saw that they had been punctured with a large knife. The note, scribbled in large capital letters said YOUR LIFE IS GOING TO BE HELL. STAY AWAY FROM WINDOWS OR DIE.

His suspicions were confirmed, yet he hadn’t counted on immediate retaliation like this. As he turned back to the porch, a shot rang out from the direction of the trees. A hanging flowerpot shattered into a hundred pieces. He ran up on the porch and dove through the doorway. Rane, stay back in the kitchen and don’t go near a window. Yell to the kids and tell them to do the same; stay low when you move around.

Another shot was fired; it smashed the front window before hitting the fireplace stones. Oh shit … what the hell am I going to do now? No weapon, no transportation … nothing to defend us with.

A voice boomed out over the fields, saying, I told you life was going to be hell. It’s just starting for y’all. Have a nice day!

Cyrus quickly ran upstairs to see how the children were. All three were in Selina’s bedroom, lying on the floor behind her bed. They were okay but baffled about what was happening. As calmly as possible, Cyrus told them the situation and ordered all three to remain where they were. Then he sprinted down the stairs to check on Rane in the kitchen. She wasn’t hurt but huddled in a chair by the wall farthest from the windows.

Thank goodness … everybody’s okay. Looks like I got us into a God damn mess yesterday. Stay where you are for now, honey. I want to look through the house for some kind of gun … Les probably has one around for critter control.

Before she could respond, he had disappeared to begin with the front closet. He searched all likely places for a rifle, but to no avail. He even looked in the bedroom upstairs, where he and Rane had slept; there was nothing.

He returned to the kitchen and began to talk with Rane when two shots were fired almost simultaneously; one went through the front window, the other through the kitchen window. At that point, Cyrus was truly worried. Then another shot was heard, but it came from a different direction. He called up to the kids, who yelled back that a bullet had come through their bedroom window on the end of the house. Stay on the floor! he yelled back. Turning back to his wife, he whispered, Honey, this is going from bad to worse. I’m out of options here and don’t know what to do.

Cy, why not call the local 911 to get help? They should be able to get here fast.

Yup … that’s good thinking. That broke the tension a little bit as he crawled over to the wall phone by the sink. When he picked up the phone, it was dead. Damn them anyway … they cut the phone lines. Now what? Oh yeah, you have our cell phone in your purse. I can use that. He crouched down and made it over to the counter, where he removed the phone from her purse. Flipping it open, he let out an exclamation that was not for the children’s ears:

There is only twenty percent showing on the charge icon. I don’t think I can deal with 911 and all the questions before it quits … and … and … I just remembered that our house charger is in the glove compartment, alongside the car charger. What a stupid move! He was beginning to panic. What could he do against at least three armed guys who were intent on harming him and his family? Cyrus, old buddy, relax … slow the blood pressure down so you can think clearly … like preparing to take a long-range shot. Empty your mind of every idea except to aim at the target. Narrow your focus to only one thought: How can you solve the problem? … What do you need? … Who can you get to help? Think … think … think hard. He closed his eyes while sitting motionless in a cross-legged position. Several minutes passed as he searched for answers.

Rane was confused by his action—or more correctly, his inaction. This was another side of him she didn’t know. His vicious reaction to the bullies yesterday was a shock she hadn’t gotten over yet. Now she realized how little she actually knew about her beloved husband. He had never talked about the army, except that he had been a marksman most of his career. During their years together, Cyrus was always quiet, easy going, and devoted to her and the family. His job was to train people how to shoot long-range rifles for a high-end gun company. Nevertheless, he was the most peace-loving man she knew. He always used reason or backed away from direct confrontation. To the best of her knowledge, both methods had always worked. What the hell was going on?

Cyrus emerged from his state of meditation. He opened his eyes and was about to tell Rane what he was going to do when a burst of gunshots riddled the other front window. Holy crap … those guys are shooting automatic rifles in three-shot bursts. That means they’re using M16s … totally illegal, and sure as hell not easy to come by. That clinches it. I’ve only got one option to get us out of this. Rane was paying attention but was completely bewildered by the spot they were in. Hon, I was going to make a run to the car for the cell phone charger, but now I don’t dare. If something happens to me, we’ll all be in a pickle. Plan B now goes into effect. It all hinges on our cell phone lasting for about four minutes. Let’s pray that it does.

Cyrus took a piece of paper from his wallet with a phone number on it. While dialing the number, he looked at his watch to see that it was five past nine. He better be in … or our goose is cooked. On the fourth ring, a voice answered, saying, Skinner Music Instrument Repair, this is Cally … may I help you?

The woman sounded pleasant, but he had no time to waste. Yes … I need to talk with John Skinner immediately … it is honestly a matter of life or death. My name is Cyrus McCormick.

Cally’s initial reaction was that somebody was playing a joke