"I understand. Then I wish us all good luck. May God be with us."
"Thank you. Take care my friends."
Mike and Tim were the first to depart. Linden had delayed his departure to spend further time making plans with the host.
"Mike and Tim are good people but I don't think they understand what is involved from our point of view. There is no going back. Once the money is transferred to the account, I intend to close the account and relocate the money in another. The shooter is going to have to test the weapon. Hell, I won't let him do it without a test. Tim and Mike may be mad as hell but it's the way it's going to go down."
"I totally agree. Nice guys, and their hearts in the right place, but this is not a business for nice guys. You’re just talking about the one test aren't you?"
"Yes. Do you have someone in mind?"
"Judge Del Ray Brooks. He should never reach the Supreme Court. I'll see that you get the information immediately," Linden said.
"Good. Good. I will start the process on my end. I'll wait until I have relocated the money before I turn Mr. Red loose."
"Is he really the best for this job?"
"Well, he is the best I've ever seen with conventional weapons. The SILVER-2 may change everything. If anyone can get the job done it will be our Mr. Red."
"Alright, you're the best in the world at what you do. I'll leave it up to you. I just hope I can deliver on my end so you won't have to activate the backup procedure. It will bring additional risk for both of us."
"All you can do is your best Linden. You can't force him to go along. Take care and keep me posted. You know how to reach me once I've settled in the States."
Within hours they had separated and were heading back to the USA.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Once Zane received the call he was on his way from Grand Cayman in a matter of hours. He decided against using false papers. He would just use his first initial and last name. Z. Tolbert is how he would travel. He entered the country without incident. He settled in and waited for further orders.
It had been decided to use the same system that had served them so well in the 60's for communication. The system was simple and not being currently used by today’s agencies.
His first assignment was to retrieve the SILVER-2 and deliver it to a location in New Mexico. He rented a van as instructed and acquired the weapon. It took him the better part of four days to obtain the gun and to drive to New Mexico. The delivery was smooth and without incident. They were off to a good start.
His meeting with Mr. Red, as he was code named, went well. He thought the guy was a bit of a rogue but seemed solid enough. He wasn't the handler this time so he only gave the guy a cursory check. Once the weapon was delivered he returned to his staging area to await further instructions.
Giovanni was thrilled. To him, the SILVER-2 was not only impressively built, but it was a thing of beauty as well. It was sleek and futuristic looking. It looked like it could have come from an art museum. While it seemed to be about the same size as an ordinary automatic machine gun it was obviously much more, even to the untrained.
He received no instructions from the man that delivered the weapon. I fact, he didn't know anything about how it operated. He was told that he would receive further instruction within the next day or so. For now he was to just hang low.
"No way," he muttered to himself. He spent several hours trying to figure out how to connect the power supply and powering up the system. Once he figured that part out his learning curve took a big jump.
His first attempt to fire the weapon almost ended in disaster. The gun had defaulted to the 'automatic' range position. He pushed the trigger button and nothing happened.
As he was raising the weapon to see what was wrong, he released the button and the weapon discharged. It blew a hole through the intended target, the barn behind it and a tree several hundred yards further down the line of fire. He never did figure out where it finally stopped.
Once that drama had played itself out, he went to work on figuring out the rest of the weapon. Within a short time he figured out the Doppler scope and the image intensifier system. He then concentrated on mastering the range distancing device. It didn't take but the one time to figure out that the weapon discharged upon release of the firing button, not when you pressed it in. It made a lot of sense to have it work that way. Once depressed the shooter should sight, hold his breath and release the button with virtually no jerk at all. Nothing to upset the balance. Just beautiful.
The gun was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was an intoxicating rush. He found that once he had the scope zeroed in at 100 yards it automatically compensated for any range that was dialed in to the distancing device. Wind was never a factor so no adjustment had to be calculated into the equation.
Staggering. At first he thought each shot had to be activated by releasing the trigger button. He soon discovered it had an automatic function. Once released the weapon would continue to fire at the rate of sixty times a second. It would continue to fire until the button was depressed a second time. You could actually depress the button and walk away and the weapon would continue to fire. It had virtually no recoil so it remained in the same position until moved or the button was depressed for the second time.
Every time it fired, Giovanni could feel a slight vibration and a soft hiss and that was all. No noise, no smoke, no contest. There was nothing else like it in the world. Once he became the master of this weapon he would be the deadliest man in the world he thought to himself. He continued to explore the weapon and to try to dominate it.
After he became proficient by his standards he went to work learning how to break the gun down and reassemble it. Within hours he had figured out the best system for connecting the battery and powering-up the weapon. One of the down sides, he soon learned what that nothing worked on the weapon until the gun was fully charged. The strength of the battery seemed to have some effect on the power-up time. By the end of the day the first battery was close to exhausted and the power-up time became longer and longer. The fire power was not diminished nor was the distance. Just the startup time. He could see no way of recharging the battery once it was depleted. He realized he would need to conserve the precious batteries until he figured out a way of accomplishing that detail. He hardly stopped to relieve himself or to eat he was so excited.
He spent hour after hour working on fine detailing his movements and the exploring the limits of the weapon. That night he spent several hours working with the intensifier scope. It could see in color even in the darkest of conditions. Nothing as primitive as gray or green images. The colors were not as bright as day light, but you could definitely tell what they were. It was obvious that the images were being digitally manipulated.
In the early hours on the morning, Giovanni finally called it quits and went to bed. He awoke late in the morning the next day and realized he was still fully dressed. He even had his boots on.
He stripped, showered, shaved and put on clean clothes. He was ready for a new day of adventure. He decided to find a real target to hit so that he could get the full effect of the gun.
He loaded the SILVER-2 in the back of the pick-up truck that had been left for his use, covered it with blankets and headed out into the country.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The rancher had been looking for several head of cattle that had been missing since the previous day. His ranch covered several thousand acres so lost cattle were nothing new to him. They always turned up eventually. Late in the afternoon he spotted several buzzards circling overhead to the southwest. Well he thought, I've found one of them at least.
He gassed up his Jeep and headed off to get the rest of them. When he arrived at the spot, he couldn't figure out exactly what he was looking at. He was sure it was what was left of several head of cattle but it didn't make any sense to him. It looked like something had caused them to explode. The few bits and pieces that remained had a burnt smell. What in the h
ell had gone on here he wondered.
He went to his Jeep and called the Sheriff's office on his cell phone. After much bickering he convinced the Sheriff that he needed to see this for himself. It was late afternoon before the Sheriff and his deputy arrived.
The Sheriff was a large potbellied man with a huge mustache.
"Godamn Fred, what in the hell have you been doing out here? You been stickin' sticks of dyn-o-mite up their asses to see what would happen? You got to get into town more," the sheriff joked.
"Damn it Earl, this ain't funny. I figure there is close to eight head of cattle in all. What the hell do you suppose did this?"
"Shit Fred, how in the hell am I supposed to know? You ever seen anything like this before? Me neither. Hell, I don't even see any foot prints or anything."
"Anything funny been going on around here?"
"What do you mean by 'funny'?" Fred asked looking at the Sheriff with alarm.
"Any strange sounds in the night? Any Satanic markings?"
"What in the hell are you talking about? Satanic? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Hell, I don't know. Just asking. You see any strange markings on any of your property?"
"Naw. Shit, I don't even see people out this way but about once a month."
"UFO's."
"UFO's my ass. What the hell are you talkin' about Roy?" the Sheriff said to the deputy.
"My ol' lady read all about the UFO's that have been taking cattle and stuff for some kind of weird experiments. She says that this shit happens all the time."
"Now just where in the hell does she get such an enlightened view of the world?" the Sheriff wanted to know.
"The checkout counter at the store. It's in those papers every week."
"You're a work of art Roy. No, I really mean that," he said rolling his eyes at Fred.
"How about a rocket?" Fred asked at last.
"Nah, that would have left shrapnel all over the place. This is definitely very weird. I think we should call in the local F.B.I. boys and let then look at this. That okay with you Fred?"
"Hell, I don't care. You do what you gotta' do. I don't want this shit going on anymore, ya hear?"
"I hear."
The sheriff radioed his office and had the transmission patched through to the local F.B.I. office. The sheriff told than that he thought he had found a mass murder site. Nothing like a good body count to get them boys off their asses. They arrived about an hour later and were really pissed off when they found the mass murder was of some rancher’s cattle.
"Earl you're a real asshole, you know it?" the top F.B.I. dog said disgusted.
"Oh shit. What are you pissing about? All you boys do all day is set on your ass in that fancy office of yours. You need to get out and get some of this good fresh air. Keeps your perspective in place."
"Perspective my ass. Look Earl this isn't an F.B.I. matter. This is your problem."
"How do you know? Are you sure those were all cattle? Hell, you're here aren't you? Why not look around?"
One of the other agents was poking around and commented," looks like they were shoved in a microwave and cooked."
"Real helpful."
He was closer to the truth than they realized.
"UFO's" the deputy said again.
"That's it. We're out of here. Men, let’s get back to the office. I think the good Sheriff has it well under control."
With that, they got in the car and took off in a flurry of dust and spinning tires.
"Pricks."
"Was they serious about the microwave?"
"Oh hell, Fred. They were just jerkin' your chain. They don't know shit."
"Well something sure cooked my cattle."
"I'll send in some samples to the lab. I saw that one of them young fellers took a sample too. I don't have any answers for you yet Fred but I'll keep on top of this."
"Alright Earl. Hey do me a favor. Keep Roy's wife away from those tabloids, will ya?"
"He is a weirdo from another planet, that's for sure," the Sheriff said rolling his eyes again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Giovanni had been stunned at the destructive power of the SILVER-2. He had found the herd of cattle off on a small dirt back road. He quickly assembled the gun and found a good area to shoot from. The scope confirmed his estimate of 1200 yards. Actually the Doppler registered
3651.8 feet to the closest target. He set the distance, placed the cross hairs on the middle of the cow and released the button. It was gone. It had simply disappeared.
He looked through the scope not believing his eyes. All he could see was a red mist hanging in the air. He knew it had fired alright; he felt the slight vibration and heard the faint hiss. It dawned on him that he had evaporated the animal.
The other cattle standing nearby didn't even move. He was simply overwhelmed. He quickly sighted in on another cow. Distance 3666.5 feet. He depressed the button, held his breath and released the switch. Gone. Just the same red mist. It had been obliterated. He couldn't believe the power that he held in his hand. The adrenalin rush was almost like discovering sex in the back seat of his ol' man's 63 Chevy with Donna. Unimaginable.
He found two of the cattle standing, one in front of the other. He checked the distance to the farthest cow. 3694.2 feet. Again he set the distance, depressed the button and fired. They had both vanished from the face of the earth. Within a span of only a few minutes he had decimated eight head of cattle. He caught a faint whiff of burnt meat but other than that you would never have known what had taken place if you hadn't witnessed it.
While he was looking through the scope he spotted a jack rabbit looking around. He checked the distance quickly. 8765.6 feet. He adjusted the distance and fired. Nothing. It was simply no longer there.
It was too much. He dissembled the weapon, looked around for tracks and headed back to the ranch he was using. Nothing he had very done compared to the experience. The possibilities were unlimited. He decided that he would go back later that afternoon and examine the spot where he had shot the cattle.
He had just about reached the turnoff when he saw a police car with its light flashing, coming up fast behind him. He checked his speed and slowed just a little to be sure. The Sheriff's car, as it turned out, blew right past him.
He watched as the car turned down the lane he was headed for. He was pissed at how stupid he had been. He had come within minutes of being caught by the oldest failing of all, returning to the scene of the crime.
He traveled on down the road for a mile and then doubled back to the ranch. No more venturing out for him, he decided. It was a sobering effect after the intoxication of the SILVER-2.
Two days later, the man that had brought him the weapon returned. He handed him a packet and gave him an outline of the test target. He was to complete the assignment and then return to the ranch to wait further instruction. He was glad for the diversion, it was time.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"The White House announced today that First Lady Harriett Richards would meet with Khaled Meshaal later this month in hopes of working out a peaceful solution to the mounting tension between the U.S. and the PLO. The meeting is to take place in Switzerland. The details are still being worked out at this time, but both sides seemed confident that the issues could be resolved. This unprecedented statement seems to have caught members of both parties by surprise and few would comment on the announcement. Chief of Staff, Wilber Wainright said that it showed how visionary the President was and fully supported the action."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Judge Brooks had been working far too many hours or so it seemed. He was becoming just worn out. Too many damn unnecessary cases that were just pissing away the tax payer's money. The caseload seemed to mount higher and higher no matter how long he worked. What a rat race.
It was a little after 7:00 P.M. when he finally called it quits. It was raining slightly and puddles of water were everywhere. Evidence that they had had a good storm while he
was cooped up in the courtroom all day. He trudged down the steps, pulling his rain coat tightly around him and headed towards his car lugging his bulging brief case.
All he wanted to do was go home, have a couple of drinks and lay his aching head down. He was thankful that he had no social obligations tonight. The judge slowly walked the two blocks to his car. He sat the brief case down on the ground, fished out his keys, opened the door and slid in behind the wheel. 'Shit', he thought looking down and seeing the brief case on the ground. Climbing out and opening the back seat, he placed the brief case on the floor and got back in the front seat.
He sat there for a few seconds. He was really tired. He was setting there gathering up the strength to drive home when.
For a brief second, he thought he saw a small hole appear in the windshield. It was the last thing he ever saw. All that remained of Judge Del Ray Brooks was a red mist.
Giovanni watched through the scope fascinated. He saw the good Judge simply explode as he released the button. He did not need to hurry. No one had heard a sound. He took his time in disassembling the SILVER-2 and placing it in the case he had fashioned himself. He slowly walked away without looking back.
When the police were finally called to the scene by the parking attendant that had seen the Judge go to his car but never leave, they didn't know what to make of it. They found a pair of glasses, a singed shoe, part of what looked like a rain coat and little else.
The brief case belonged to Judge Brooks and the registration on the black 545i BMW confirmed it was the Judge's car. All that remained of the Judge was burnt goo.
The police decided that this was too politically hot to handle so they called in the F.B.I. The Feds were of little use. They couldn't make heads or tails of what had happened here. They took samples of the burnt residue and sent it off to the lab. None of them could come up with a plausible explanation as to what had happened to the Judge. They filed a report that was mostly supposition and contained little actual substance.
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