The Toronto Maple Leaf nano-technologies laboratory is amongst the most advanced on the planet. The Toronto Maple Leaf sattelite tracking network is second to none. Yet even with all their resources there are gaps in the system. Simply put, as the satelites traverse the sky in their non-synchronus orbit the area of satelite coverage shifts and small pockets of the planet are left uncovered for small fractions of time. Lou Lamoriello has memorized where and when these pockets occur. He uses this knowledge to slip away from the Toronto Maple Leafs undetected.

Any time personnelle slip off the grid it takes the tracking system several milliseconds to reaquire the asset. So long as they have remained in place this process is quick and relatively simple. What Lou does is follow the quiet zone for as long as he can. Once the automated system has failed to pick up his signal near it’s last location a manual search is required.

“I found him!” A low level monitorring tech announces her success. Brendan Shanahan and Kyle Dubas are at her station quickly. “Here he is, in the school.”

“Why the heck would he go there?” Kyle asks without expecting an answer.

The Toronto Maple Leaf primary school is not far from Toronto Maple Leaf tower. It has nothing to do with the hockey team, it is just a nice public school for children ages 5 to 12. There is no reason for the Leafs GM to be there early on a Tuesday morning.

“Let’s get over there quick.” Brendan says. “Whatever he’s doing, he will just have to stop. If he moves call us right away” This he says to the technician who nods as Brendan leaves with Kyle right behind him.

At the school they find everything quiet. Morning classes have begun. No one in the office knows anything about Lou’s visit. Kyle uses his phone to connect to the Toronto Maple Leaf tracking software and they follow the app to the Kindergarten class. Without knocking they enter the class. Lou is standing at the teachers desk. He looks over and nods but does not stop his lesson.

“Rule number two is M.O.B. That’s money over bitches class.” Lou says. “This is a hard rule to follow but an important one. And it doesn’t just apply to the boys. Money over bitches means choose with your head not your heart. Some stupid bitch is always gonna try to get your shit all twisted. In times like these you need to be calm, focus on what you need to do to get your money. Sometimes the bitches are gonna make you money and that is when you keep a bitch, but if the bitch starts steppin’ then you need to squash ‘em.”

“Lou?” Brendan interrupts tapping his wrist where a watch would be if he wore one.

“Brendo, have a little respect here, I’m teaching.” Lou shakes his head then speaks to the class. “Here is an example of M.O.B. My boss is being a bitch, but I need my job to make money, so I don’t call him out on his bitch tendencies I just follow orders like a good soldier.

“before I leave I want to show you a magic trick. You kids like Magic?” The children cheer. Lou reaches behind the desk and pulls up a small cage with a little bird inside. “Everyone sees the sweet little birdy? Good.” Lou puts a silk cover over the cage. Holding the top and the bottom of the cage he pauses for dramatic effect.

“Shazam!” He shouts as he seperates the top from the bottom with a flourish. In one hand he holds the empty cage, in the other bottom plate. The little bird is gone. The children clap in awe.

“Now here is the lesson class.” Lou puts the top part of the cage down and steps around the desk. “Everybody come in close.” The children lean in. “Can anyone guess where the birdy went to?” Several of the children guess incorrectely. “Well here he is.”

Lou pulls up on a small ring in the center of the cage bottom. As he pulls, the springs in the cage reset and the four walls of the cage lift off the bottom and lock into place. The smeared remains of the bird are stuck to bars. It’s tiny little beak falls onto the floor.

“Remember kids, there is no magic in the world, just blood and lies. Salut.” Lou leaves the cage on the desk and walks out as the children begin to cry. He pushes Brendan and Kyle out in front of him then slams the door. “What’s so damn important you had to interrupt my lesson?”

The cries from the class room have gotten louder as the children begin to piece together what they have just witnessed. The Kindergarten teacher does his best to shift focus but the task is near impossible. Tiny impressionable minds weep over a lost innocence that can never be recovered.

Brendan remains calm. “You left a bomb threat on Mike’s desk.” Mike Babcock is the Toronto Maple Leaf head coach. Lou had left a note for Mike which promised his death in no uncertain terms.

“What else can I do? You won’t let me fire him. The asshole keeps winning. He’s gonna mess up our draft position.”

“Is there a bomb?” Brendan asks.

“No.” The D’uh is implied by Lou’s tone. “I haven’t had time to make a bomb yet. I was hoping he would get the point and save me the trouble.”

“You can’t blow up the coach Lou. Now you owe Mike an apology.” Brendan walks away from the crying children. Lou and Kyle walk with him.

“This is bullcrap Brendo.” Lou says. “At the start of the season I’m supposed to be okay with losing because it’s all about the draft, then I’m supposed to be okay with winning games at the end of the year even though we may miss out on first overall because of it.”

“It’s all pretty simple Lou.” Kyle answers, which annoys Lou. “We don’t care where we pick in the first round.”

“That’s retarded.” Lou answers. “Brendo, this kids on the meth.”

“I’m serious Lou.” Kyle laughs. “Sure first overall is a good headline, but the first round really doesn’t matter. There are always more hits than misses in the first round, so every team has a good chance at a good young player. It’s in the late rounds that our picks really count. That’s what Mark is for.” Mark Hunter has the greatest eye for hockey talent since old Conn Smythe and he works for the Leafs. “Finding real players in the late rounds is better than finding gold. That’s where we can really beat the other guys. That’s where we build our team.”

Lou glares at Kyle. Kyle stares right back with a grin.

“Keep it up ass.” Lou finally says. “Maybe you’ll be the one we find spread all over the parking lot.”

“No bomb threats Lou.” Brendan says.

“This is crap.” Lou mutters.

“And you owe Mike an apology.”

“Whatever.” Lou lags behind as Brendan and Kyle get into the Toronto Maple Leaf stretched Humvee limosine. “Hey, I think I left my weed in the class. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“Let’s go Lou.” Brendan says.

“But the teachers gonna find it.” Lou whines as he gets into the limo then groans when he sees Mike is waiting for him.

“Hey Lou, got your note.” The coach says.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Lou sounds anything but sorry. “I was just kidding, I won’t blow you up in your car.”

“And you don’t mind if I do my best to win some hockey games?” Mike asks.

“No, I don’t mind.” Lou says with a sigh. “I guess first overall doesn’t matter in the long run.”

“It’s a lottery Lou. We can still draft first overall even if we aren’t the worst team in the league.” Mike is cheery in his hopefulness.

“Sure we can.” Lou is resigned to his fate of missing out on a generational talent.

The four men ride in silence until an alarm starts beeping from Mike’s pocket. The coach pulls out a small digital watch and presses a button to stop the noise.

“It’s nine o’clock, lets say it real quick here.” The coach insists.

He bows his head and the other men do the same. After a moment of silence they speak in unison as if the words were a spell. And maybe words do hold the power to create.

“Dear God and Lord Stanley, thank you for bringing us together in Toronto, and please help Steven Stamkos find his way home.”

Brendan takes a beer from the limo’s mini fridge. “Kyle, can you schedule a trauma counsellor for those kids, see if you can get someone in there this afternoon.” The Toronto Maple Leafs president drains his beer dry and takes another one.

“What do you need to do that for?” Lou asks.

“Those kids aren’t going to be able to sleep for a week.” Brendan says. “Most of them are probably going to be scared for life because of what you did in there.”

“I don’t get what the problem is.” Lou shrugs. “I learned about life and death at four years old when I saw my father banging our nieghbour in the shed behind the barn over freshly slaughtered lamb carcasses. I turned out fine.”