I knew something was wrong when I heard him breathing heavily, more so than usual, moving quickly down the hallway toward my desk.
As I stared out the office window, bracing for Jones’s arrival, the first vehicle appeared in the parking lot. Whoever was behind the wheel drove fast, erratic, like they were in a hurry to arrive somewhere they hadn’t been invited. Close behind was an SUV, followed by a van wrapped in an American flag decal. For a moment I forgot Jones was approaching until I heard his voice behind me. “We’re under attack.”
His tone had a burr of excitement that didn’t match the words. Seeing the American flag on the van outside, I assumed they were fans of Jones’s show who had somehow discovered the location of his office. Even though I tried to hide it, Jones was perceptive enough in that
moment to notice my skepticism.
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