Free Runner by Carl Deuker Page B

is finished, you'll be eligible for up to fifty thousand dollars for your college education. But really, it would be better if you came in so that I could show you the various enlistment options and go over the benefits that come with each. Do you want to schedule an appointment?"
    "Right now I'm just thinking things over," I said. "I'll call back another time."
    "That's fine. But before you call, I want you to think about what it means to be a soldier. Defending your country will require courage. There is no place for a coward in the armed forces."
    "I know that," I said. "And I'm not a coward. If I was a coward, I wouldn't even call."
    "Good. I'm glad to hear it. So the next time you call, I'll be expecting you to use your real name."

CHAPTER TEN
    The strange envelope showed up in early December. It was a standard size, probably nine by twelve, but the paper was darker and felt rougher to the fingers than any envelope I'd seen in stores in Seattle. In the upper right-hand corner was a long string of numbers. The 7 s had that little line in the middle of them that Europeans use, and the Is had loops in front of them that made them look like 7s.
    I was fingering the envelope, wondering if I should even take it, when I heard a woman laugh. I looked up the beach and saw a whole group of women jogging toward me. I shoved the envelope into my backpack and started back for the marina. When I reached the utility room, I stuck the envelope into the locker the same way I did the regular packages.
    Melissa had been on me about writing something for the newspaper. I didn't want to let her down, so that night I went
to the Ballard library and looked up salmon in an encyclopedia. I copied down stuff about how they spawn and how seals and dams and pollution are ruining everything. For about twenty minutes I wrote.
    When I'd filled a couple of notebook pages, I stopped and read it over. Right away I knew it was all wrong. Melissa didn't want me to write a school report. She wanted something lively, something interesting. But what did I have to say about salmon or seals that would be lively or interesting? I ripped up the pages, tossed them into the trash, and started for home.
    Outside in the night air, I found myself thinking about that envelope again. What could it have been? It was too light and too flat to contain drugs; I was sure of that. But if it was just some papers, why not stick them in the mail? Why go through all the trouble of hiding papers in rocks? It didn't make sense.
    Instead of boarding the sailboat when I reached the marina, I returned to the utility room. I wanted to look at the envelope again. As I turned the key in the lock, I had a strange feeling I was being watched. I looked around quickly—no one. I pushed the utility room door open. As usual, the room was empty. I went to my locker, opened it, reached in for the envelope, but it was gone.
    I closed the locker and headed back outside. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, the bright lights of a car blinded me. I put my arm up to shield my eyes. The driver sped toward me, and then veered off hard to the right, tires squealing. As the car sped off, I got a good look at it. It was a newer-model black Mercedes, but the windows were so heavily tinted I couldn't tell how many people were inside.
    My heart was racing, and so was my mind. Once I was back on the sailboat, with the security gate between me and the parking lot, I took a series of deep breaths to calm myself. It was dumb to be afraid. The driver of the Mercedes was probably some kid my age working as a valet at one of the fancy restaurants down the road, maybe even Ray's. It was just a coincidence that he sped up as I opened the door, nothing more. I was making a whole lot out of nothing.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    That Friday night I trudged up the hill to meet Melissa and the others at the Blue Note Café. I was late, but when I stepped through the door into the warmth of the coffee shop, the only person I saw