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Lincoln and I speed-walk across the LaGuardia tarmac. The place is like something out of a nightmare. There are people everywhere, but it’s super quiet, except for the stomping of boots and the growing chorus of screaming babies. The air smells of airplane fuel and dead fish, probably a combination of all the H-E tech getting ready to take off…along with the nearby Hudson River.
“All guards report for duty. All guards report for duty.” All around us, Razor Guards pour out of the different exhibit tents and race toward the tech lining the runways. My heart lightens. Hopefully, the tent holding CHUCK will get emptied out, too.
Hey, a girl can hope.
We quickly locate the tent in question—it’s is a long and low structure made of black fabric. Beside it there stands a platform overflowin
