08-20-2012, 07:57 PM
While Buzz was pondering the controversial life of Danny Springer, Boone Morris was reconnoitering around the service entrance of the hotel. If he could just slip inside, unnoticed, he could still reach the exhibit area and confront Buzz face to face before the hired muscle kicked him out again. It was a huge risk, but it would be worth it if he could expose the truth about the Apollo 11 hoax.
The service entrance, like every other private entryway into the hotel, had no door handle on the outside and was accessable only with a keycard. Boone would have to wait until somebody came out, then slip inside before the door shut. The rest he could take care of himself. He just needed to be patient...
The dull, clunking sound of metal striking metal, and Boone was on his feet, ready to spring into action. He flattened himself against the wall on the hinged side of the metal door, waiting for it to swing open. Then he would grab the door, rush inside quickly and quietly, and hide again inside before whoever had gone through it would notice him. With luck and good timing, no one would be the wiser.
The heavy metal service door approached him from his right, coming straight at him. For a moment, Boone thought he'd be crushed against the wall. Quickly, he came back to his senses and grabbed the edge of the door, just as he had planned. He heard a scraping sound across the pavement. He peeked from behind the door and saw a pimply-faced kid in white kitchen garb dragging a load of broken down cardboard boxes to the dumpster a few yards from the entryway.
Boone whipped around from behind the door and through the service entrance in one fluid movement. From what he could see, he was in some sort of storage/receiving area next to the kitchen. He ducked behind a row of folded banquet tables standing upright by the door and waited for the kitchen helper to return, taking the moment to catch his breath. Another clunk of metal, the door opened, and the helper's acne-scarred visage came into view. Boone ducked behind the tables, but the helper didn't even glance in his direction, let alone spot him. Blessing his good luck, Boone emerged from his hiding place and began to look around for a way into the hotel proper.
There was another door on the opposite side of the storage area. It might be a a way in, or it might be just another closet. Since the only other way out was through the noisy, bustling kitchen, he dashed for the door, pulled it open, and ducked inside. Again, no one noticed, but he was trapped in total darkness. Fumbling around the wall, he located a light switch, turned it on, and found himself in the linen closet. Boone sighed in disappointment. Okay, he wondered, how the hell am I gonna get out of this one?
He looked around the shelves of freshly laundered table linen, neatly stacked and bound in shrink-wrap. There was a canvas hamper for soiled linen, but it was empty. Then he spotted a stack of white aprons, and, next to it, white cotton caps. A desperate plan hatched in Boone's mind. He grabbed an apron, put it on, tied it around his waist, then he pulled on one of the caps, stuffing his long brown hair underneath it. Suitably disguised, he emerged from the linen closet and began to stroll casually through the kitchen, keeping his head low and his pace steady so as not to draw attention to himself.
"Hey, you!" he heard a loud voice echo throughout the kitchen.
Boone froze in his tracks while a short, burly man in the same apron and cap approached him. I am so (bleeping) dead! Boone thought in his panicked state.
The burly man, however, thrust a grey plastic dishpan into Boone's hands. "Get over to Conference Room A!" he ordered him. "We need it cleaned up and cleared out in twenty minutes!"
He thinks I work here! "Uh, yes, sir!" Boone replied with fake enthusiam, half-saluting as he spoke. "I'll get right on it, sir!"
The burly man simply turned and left. Boone took the dishpan and left the kitchen. Well, at least he had a cover to get into the hotel, though he didn't have a clue as to where Conference Room A was.
(Uh, oh, gonna have to cut this short again! Will return later. V)