Price For A Patriot

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Price For A Patriot Page 14

by F. Denis King


  Willie Brown’s voice resonated above the din, “Back up a sec, what about the judge? Will she keep her mouth shut or will Brandon’s empty grave become a headline?”

  It was a question others considered asking.

  “The Judge suggested revealing our discovery to the press. She objected to the symbolic burial without remains of the deceased, and to the government’s lying to the family. She didn’t give a rat’s ass about good intentions. She was really angry about the deception but finally acknowledged that the burial ceremony had been a wonderful tribute that provided some closure for family and friends. After I argued that revealing the truth would upset the community, embarrass the family, and serve no good purpose, she agreed to keep quiet. She left it up to me to share or not to share the information with family members. She doesn’t know Brandon is alive, and I didn’t tell her; making that public might get Brandon killed.”

  “Why did she agree to exhume in the first place?” Raul Sanchez asked.

  “To get her permission to exhume, I told her that I had a witness who swore Brandon’s body was never recovered. Was it Brandon’s grave or wasn’t it? I needed to see for myself. She argued against it but as a family friend she finally agreed.”

  Smitty was propped up on several pillows listening to Daniel and watching his fellow conspirators who surrounded his bed. “You’ve heard the evidence,” Smitty uttered as best he could. “Now, Daniel will tell you enough for you to decide if you’re in or not.”

  Only Phil, Daniel and Jerry Peppers looked at Smitty as he spoke. The others couldn’t. They listened with heads bowed. Harold Pruitt was Daniel’s best friend, the man Daniel knew he could count on; the others were Phil’s buddies from his stint in Panama.

  Daniel outlined his plan, omitting details, saying, “I’ve made contact with Iraq and I’ve been told on good authority that I can buy Brandon’s freedom for five million dollars. I told Defense and CIA; they won’t pay. McNamara won’t because he’s in denial. Leaving a man behind doesn’t look good on an ambitious man’s resume, and that comes first. CIA probably won’t because John Keiley says it’s doubtful he can get his superiors to agree to any option including ransom without a positive sighting and White House approval. The White House won’t consider a proposal, unless it has CIA endorsement. Catch 22. Gentlemen, that is unacceptable. If you’re with me, we are going to take the money from Uncle Sam. Call it a loan, if you like.”

  Heads turned, eyebrows lifted, but no one spoke.

  “You can leave now with no hard feelings,” Daniel explained, “or you can throw in with us and help us pull it off.”

  The room was quiet but all heads nodded in agreement. No one budged, and after a brief silence, Daniel said, “Okay, after you hear the details you’ll have another chance to opt out, but we hope you’ll stay. Brandon needs you.”

  “I’m living on borrowed time,” Willy Brown said, as he scanned the faces around the bed, careful not to look at Smitty. “I wouldn’t be here, couldn’t be here, if Brandon hadn’t saved my ass. It’s like Jerry said. I owe Brandon big time. I’m in, regardless. You want me to rob a bank? I’m in. You want me to steal an armored car? I’m your man. Hell, my life has been pretty dull since I hung up my spurs, and it sounds like you’re about to change that.” He laughed, and his basso profundo voice reverberated in the small, tiled room.

  “Willy?” Phil said with mock seriousness, “how the hell did you get to be a D.I. with those soprano pipes of yours?”

  The tension in the room broke as men laughed at the absurdity, and friendly banter filled the air. Phil stared across the sheets at his old friend who wagged a warning finger at him in mock rebuke. Willy was pushing forty now but looked thirty, and was still as hard as a rock. Ten years ago as a drill instructor, Phil knew, Willy inspired both confidence and fear in his new recruits. With that voice and that body, Phil mused, probably much more of the latter. Willy had been a D.I. the troops admired. He was a straight shooter in life and on the rifle range. He took no booze, no drugs, no steroids, and no shit from any man. Willy smiled his bright smile as Phil shrugged in confused innocence saying, “What?”

  Daniel called for attention and the buzz in the room tapered to silence. “Here’s the drill. Phil works at DFW Airport in Cargo for Global Air. He gets twenty-four hour notice from the Bureau of Engraving and Printing in Fort Worth when they have a shipment planned. Sixty percent of U.S. currency is printed in Fort Worth, so money is shipped all the time. And, every Friday for the past month B. E. & P. has been making shipments of twenty and fifty dollar bills to the Federal Reserve Banks around the country. We’ll plan on that continuing, and Friday after next, one of us will be in San Francisco to receive a package. The package will be a coffin laden with crisp new bills.”

  Murmurs of surprise were quelled when Daniel held his hand high and promised, “More on that later. We need one rider in coach on the flight with the shipment. A last minute ticket purchase would be costly, so we’ll make the reservation tomorrow.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” Smitty piped in. “I’m making good money lying here watching the soaps, and I’ve got no way to spend it. Just wish I could make the flight.”

  “I wish you could too, Smitty, but we need you here to run the Command Post. Smitty will be our contact. If you have a question or problem, or anything we should all know about, call Smitty.” Daniel noted the pleasure that gave the battered warrior. “Phil will make sure the coffin gets put on the same flight as the Fed’s shipment. I’ll need two men to carry the coffin into Global Cargo, two big men, so that means Willy and Raul will pose as employees of a Dallas mortuary.”

  Both men nodded their acceptance of the duty but Willy said, “That can’t be my only job.”

  “No, it isn’t. After you drop off the coffin, you and Raul will leave DFW in a crew cab truck for Phoenix. Rent a big one.”

  “Jerry, how about volunteering to be on the receiving end in San Fran,” Daniel asked as he continued to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

  “Sure, no problem,” Jerry answered in his usual way, few words, no emotion, but ready for action.

  “Global in San Fran will load the coffin into your rental van, Jerry, so you’ll be handling the assignment solo. You’ve all met Harold. He’s an old friend; we go way back. Take my word for it; you can trust him just as you trust each other. I’ll stake my life on it. Harold has a contact in South Dallas who specializes in providing I.D. cards, licenses, certificates, passports, et cetera, for those who can’t get them through normal channels.”

  “That’s right,” Harold edged in, “my source is a braggart but not a bullshitter. Give me a shopping list and I’ll get what we need. I’ve seen his work. He’s good but he isn’t cheap.”

  “Good enough,” Daniel answered. “I’ve already prepared a list. What I lack are ID photos of Willy, Raul, and Jerry, for the funeral homes in Dallas and San Fran. We don’t have a hearse, but I doubt anyone at Air Freight will give a damn if they even notice. Rent a Ryder or U-Haul with the fake ID Harold will provide, and explain, if needed, that business is good at the mortuary, too good, and you had to resort to a less distinguished carriage to make the shipment or pickup on time. I doubt you’ll be asked, but that’s your cover story. Harold will have documents from the funeral homes authorizing shipment and receiving.”

  Harold nodded his understanding as he listened and reviewed Daniel’s list.

  “Cell phones,” Daniel announced. The two words introduced the next subject. “We will all have phones for the duration of the mission. When we stand down, we’ll wipe them clean and dump them. Harold will find those on his list, and he will make the purchase agreement for seven phones on one fake business account.”

  “What about you, Daniel?” Smitty croaked, realizing that Daniel had omitted one important bit of dialogue.

  “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I’ll be in the coffin.”

&nbs
p; That news stirred the crowd and for a moment the visitors forgot hospital etiquette. Smitty signaled for quiet and Phil picked up on it and added his stronger voice to quell the chatter.

  Daniel smiled and feigned surprise. “What? Did I say something?” And over the whispered undercurrent of comments, continued. “Here,” he said as he held a sheet of paper aloft, are the dimensions of a standard casket used for shipping. The airlines provide a slip-on cover euphemistically referred to as an HRC, a human remains container. Passengers looking out the cabin windows see a box being loaded but don’t automatically assume it’s a casket. If they did that wouldn’t be good for business, right?”

  Nods and brief laughter answered his question.

  “This casket will be uniform in size, not tapered and an inch wider than the HRC cover. By the time the airline realizes this, it will be too late. We’ll threaten to sue if the dearly beloved isn’t shipped as scheduled. Arrangements have been made, burial is scheduled, religious beliefs dictate, et cetera.” Daniel’s words trailed off and he added, “You get the idea. If a cargo rep gives us any static, Phil will step in and do what needs to be done on his end to load the coffin as is. ‘As is’ means I can open and close the coffin from the inside or the outside, but anyone else will find that almost impossible. Here is a diagram if anyone is interested in seeing how it will be constructed.”

  Daniel held the diagram aloft. “This lid,” he said, pointing to the drawing, “appears to pivot on a long piano hinge, but the hinge is phony. The lid is actually two sections and one drops down and slides beneath the other. An occupant can lock it from the inside and prevent it from being unlocked from the outside. Air Freight personnel who get nosey or for some reason think they have to open the box, can’t. Most external screws are dummies. But when I’m not in the box I can secure the lid using the external screws attached to the interior latches. Clear?”

  “No. I still don’t get it,” Raul admitted.

  “That’s because you don’t have all the information yet. Phil, why don’t you take over?”

  Phil stood as he slid his chair away from the bed and stepped to the open area of the room where he could pace and think as he moved. “The Federal Reserve uses Armored Express to make deliveries and provide security.”

  Raul’s eyes widened and he blurted out, “We gonna knock off an armored car?”

  “No, Raul, sorry. This is a stealth operation not a Bonnie and Clyde stickup. With the tools here at Hood we could do it easy enough, but we don’t want to hurt anyone. We’ll let Federal unload and then we’ll make a withdrawal in a very civilized manner. They’ll never know what hit them, and here’s how it goes down. The armored vehicle will pull up to the rear of the aircraft and a guard will get out of the cab to open the rear door. The inside guard rolls the cash packs to the back of the truck on a dolly, and an airline cargo handler picks them up one at a time and places them on a conveyor belt. The packs are transported to the hold of the aircraft via the belt when the courier gives the word. Topside, handlers stack them inside the cargo hold and secure them. Each pack is about the size of a case of Coors cans but much heavier. The courier has a clipboard and he marks the case and makes a notation as each case passes up the conveyor. That continues until all the cash is loaded. The baggage handlers shut the cargo door and retract the conveyor. The armored car pulls away to sit and wait at an observation point until the plane takes off. The courier stays with the cash. He goes topside to an assigned seat after all the cargo doors are closed and the aircraft is ready to depart. The Captain will have a letter of introduction from the Air Courier Division giving the courier’s name and seat assignment. The letter also answers the ‘what if’ questions, in case the plane has to go to an alternate. Basically, it reminds the Captain of the high value shipment he’s carrying, and that, gentlemen, is an understatement.”

  Phil took a sip of water and continued. “Here’s a quiz for you math majors. Smitty tells me that each cash pack contains four bricks and each brick has forty wraps. A wrap contains one hundred bills. So, how many bills are in a cash pack?”

  Willy laughed. “Anybody got a calculator? It’s a big number, I know that.”

  Phil scanned the faces. “Raul, you’ve still got your First Communion money. What’s the answer?”

  “Sixteen thousand?”

  “Give that man a cee-gar!” Phil barked. “And what’s twenty times sixteen thousand?”

  “Three hundred and twenty thousand,” came the swift reply.

  “I’m impressed but confused, Raul. How is it you came up with these answers and you can never get it right when it comes to splitting a beer tab?”

  Willy hooted and Jerry taunted as Raul’s face reddened.

  “Now what if the cash pack held all fifties?”

  “Eight hundred thousand.”

  “Bingo! Right again, my friend, and that’s just one box. Insurance companies limit the carriage of more than ninety-nine million, but that’s okay because we only need five and that’s all we plan to take.”

  Again, Daniel held the diagram of the coffin aloft, and took over the dialog as Phil returned to his seat.

  “The dimensions of this casket will permit two cases laid side by side and four cases end to end. We could stack them three high for a total of twenty four cases, but would we?”

  “No,” Harold answered.

  “Right you are. Why?”

  “Because that’s more than five million and we’re only taking what we need to pay Brandon’s ransom demand.”

  “Wrong, but a good answer. The reason is less righteous. You couldn’t lift it. It would weigh eight hundred and forty pounds.”

  Someone whistled softly.

  “Each cash pack weighs thirty five pounds regardless of the denomination, so eight packs will be our limit in the casket. More than that and the bottom might fall out. We’ll also ship four empty suitcases that can hold one each if it comes to that.”

  “Won’t that cause some suspicion?” Jerry blurted out.

  “Harold will have a sales receipt and a ready explanation for empty luggage. His I.D. will show a California residence and, if asked, he’ll say he got a killer deal on the bags. His daughter needs new luggage. She’s been accepted at Stanford. You get the picture. Harold has a BS degree, and I don’t mean Bachelor of Science. He’s a master of ad lib. We don’t think the luggage will pose a problem, Jerry, but thanks for raising the question. We all need to think critically. Harold will buy luggage that’s easy to spot, red or yellow, but definitely not gray or dark blue. I won’t have time to do a major search. The luggage must stand out whether it’s placed in forward, mid or aft cargo.”

  “Whoa, hold on a minute,” Willy demanded. “Are you saying that the casket, the luggage, and the money could all be in separate places on the plane?”

  Smitty croaked, “We didn’t say it would be easy, but it’s doable.”

  It was Phil’s turn to speak. “Every Friday, the shipment has been on Flight 620, a DC-10-10. I mention the model because planes differ in their configuration. The DC-10-10 has a lower galley. The DC-10-30 doesn’t. That’s important because if you haven’t figured this out yet, once Daniel loads the coffin, he has no place to hide.”

  It was clear from the silence and blank stares that no one had thought about that, but immediately there were several opinions floated about.

  “Hold it right there, guys,” Daniel interrupted. “I’ll save you some brain cells. Phil has schematics of the DC10-10, and we’ve been getting acquainted with the layout below the passenger compartment. The money is always loaded in aft cargo. I don’t know why, it just is. Caskets always travel first class, or more accurately head first in forward cargo. Who knows, this might be as close to riding in first class as I ever get.”

  Phil took his cue. “Let’s break for five, get a drink, and take a leak, stretch, or whatever.”

 
As one, chairs slid backward and groans followed as everyone stood. Daniel leaned over toward Smitty, “How are you holding up?”

  Smitty took a sip of water through the long straw in his sealed cup before responding. “I’m good for a while longer. I don’t want to crap out on you guys being as the party’s at my house.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Daniel said, “We can go to Gilley’s Roadhouse or over to Chili’s in Killeen to finish up.”

  “No. Sound travels and some nosey punk will eavesdrop and then we’d have to kill him.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll wrap it up as quickly as I can. Thanks.”

  Smitty rested his cup against his chest and gave the one thumb salute just as the orderly appeared.

  “Sorry fellas, I have to ask you to leave. It’s bedtime for Bonzo.”

  “Bonzo is having fun, party pooper. One more hour of laughs and these guys will tiptoe out. What do you say?”

  The orderly glanced at his watch. “My head is on the chopping block, guys. If I get caught, I won’t mind the brig, but I would lose the pleasure of Smitty’s company. So, I’ll tell you what, I’ll split the difference. You guys be gone in thirty. Deal?”

  “Deal,” was the unanimous response.

  “Before the break, Willy raised a question about the disparate locations of coffin and cash,” Daniel resumed. “The forward baggage compartment is connected to the lower galley which in turn fronts on the mid-cargo compartment. Aft cargo is separated from the other compartments by an unpressurized mechanical space that includes fuel cells, wing spars, pipes, hoses, tubes, cables and related paraphernalia. Maintenance has panels or hatches to allow them access to everything they might need to fix, and I will use those to move aft, grab the cash and return. If Phil can get my casket loaded aft, I’m home free, but I doubt Phil has that kind of clout. If he can swing mid-cargo, I’m golden, but chances are that won’t happen. If I get stuffed up front like every other stiff, I’m in for a workout, but Phil says exercise is good for me.”

 

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