[Franklinnoble]

Placerville, California
August, 2003

There's nothing like being awakened at 2 a.m. by a screaming baby in the
basinet next to your bed. Junior was awake, hungry, and determined to let
everyone in the county know about it. Unlike an alarm clock, there is no
convenient snooze button, no "five more minutes." The creature demands to be
fed, and does not relent until you comply.

Franklin stumbled out of bed as his wife comforted the three week old baby.
He snatched the bottle from the nightstand that Junior had emptied just two
hours prior and mumbled as he walked into the kitchen. The dogs were barking;
probably at a deer. He walked over to the sink to rinse the bottle and was surprised to see a pair of headlights in the drivewayas he looked up out the window.

Double checking the clock on the microwave as he heated the bottle, he decided
to see who it was after he made sure Junior was eating. He handed the bottle
to his wife. "There's someone in the driveway. I'm gonna go see who." She
nodded sleepily and continued feeding the baby.

Franklin walked out to the driveway and approached what appeared to be a black
Crown Victoria, but the man behind the wheel didn't appear to be a police
officer. He tapped on the driver side window, and the man rolled it down.
"Can I help you, buddy?"

A voice from the back seat spoke. "Actually, I think you can. Do you have a
moment?"

"Dude, it's like 2 a.m."

"You're right. Would $5000 cash be worth losing a few minutes sleep?"

Franklin stepped back from the car. "I don't want any trouble."

The back door of the car opened, and a lean, graying man of about 55 stepped
out. "Actually, this will be the one honest deal I've made in a while.
Please, I've got to leave shortly, and if I don't take care of this now, it
will all be for nothing."

"Fine. Talk. But keep your money."

"Fair enough. My name is Bruno Triveri..." Franklin snorted.

"Hah. And I'm Clark Kent. Don't mind the cape."

Triveri smiled. "I need to leave the country for a while, but I'd like
someone to look after my football team. I cannot trust any of my current
associates."

"Ah. Sure. But you can trust a guy living on a dirt road in the middle of
nowhere that you just met. Look, I don't know who you really are or if I'm on
some sort of new reality TV show here, but I don't have time for this - I have
to work in the morning. The road you're on doesn't go anywhere - if you're
lost, you need to turn around and go back the way you came. "

"Mr. Brown, humor me for a moment." Triveri smiled - he could tell by the
look on Franklin's face that he was wondering how he knew his name. "I have a
helicopter that is going to land on the back of your property in about ten
minutes. The valley that your land borders provides a route out of the county that the authorities will have a difficult time trying to trace."

"Why are you in El Dorado County in the first place? And there are a hundred places along this valley you could fly out of..."

"I had some unfinished business in Sacramento. This is about the last place they'd expect my escape route to begin from. But I chose your property for a reason." Triveri grinned.

"Why's that?"

"I've always wanted to own a football team, you know? It was a lifelong dream of mine to manage and build a franchise into championship form, and just as I was able to acquire a team, I am forced to flee the country due to some outstanding legal issues I have."

"Is this the part where I get out my violin?"

Triveri grinned again. "Does the name Jim Gindin mean anything to you?"

Puzzled, Franklin replied. "Yeah. He makes computer software. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I have to leave the country. Tonight. I also have to sign over my interest in the San Diego Chargers to somebody else before I go, or the team will be operated by the league until they decide what to do with it. I cannot trust any current business associates. I have no family. I need someone to own the Chargers and that someone is you."

"You lost me."

"You know, Front Office Football is the only thing I know how to use on my computer? I've bought over 100 copies of each version, just to help make sure that Jim keeps on working on the next version. I called Jim a few hours ago. He told me he has one client in El Dorado County who has bought every version of the game since FOF2. That client is you."

"So, basically, because I play Front Office Football, you want me run the San Diego Chargers?"

"Correct."

"Riiiight. And what if I told you I played Grand Theft Auto once?"

"I have the papers right here, Mr. Brown. Charles here is a notary public, he will witness your signature of them. You have nothing to lose."

Franklin began looking over the papers that Triveri had placed on the hood of the car. They looked real enough. "Why would you do this?"

"I know that you have at least some interest in running a professional football team, and some basic idea of how it works. A man of your limited means doesn't spend over $100 on different versions of the same game for no reason. I will lose the team if I don't sell it to someone. I'd rather it go to someone who might at least try to make something of it." Triveri paused. "Of course, there is one catch."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to be living overseas, and, to be blunt, I'll need the money."

"Well, hell, I'll just run down to the credit union and see if they'll make me a loan for the San Diego Chargers. That'll be, what, $300, $350 million? I'm sure they'll have no problem with that."

"There won't be any banks involved, Mr. Brown. You will transfer $30 million dollars from the San Diego Chargers to an off-shore 'investment' account every year for at least the next 20 years. If you have not won the Super Bowl in that time, you will continue to transfer $30 million per year until you do so. You can not sell the team at all in the next 20 years."

"It doesn't mention any of that in the papers here."

"Of course not. It would be entirely illegal to do so."

"I see. But you have people like Charles here to enforce the terms, right?"

"It won't come to that. If at any point you decide not to continue the arrangement, you let me know. We'll arrange a transfer to someone else at that point."

A helicopter could be heard approaching in the distance. Triveri looked towards the back of the property. "My ride will be here in moments. You must decide now."

Franklin thought for a moment. What the hell. Even if it was a big scam, it couldn't hurt to sign the papers. "Alright. I'll play along. But I still think you're full of shit."

Triveri collected the papers after Charles had signed and stamped them, and placed them back in his briefcase. "You'll hear from my people in a few days. After that, I would expect the media will be very, very interested in speaking with you."

"Yeah, whatever. I'll give you a shout out if they ever put me on TV."

Triveri smiled again, and walked off towards the hilltop out back where a sleek black helicopter was just landing. Franklin shook his head and went back inside.