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Missy's Operation Lily Pad (Missy the Werecat Book 6)

Page 17

by P. G. Allison


  For all the cadets at West Point, it was a very good day!

  -----

  Not long after the game ended, Troy left Mike and John and headed over to Hanscom AFB. His day shift guard followed along behind in his own vehicle. Later, there’d be someone else covering him for the night shift. He had mixed feelings about having this protection detail watching over him but, ever since agreeing to work for Robert Ulrey, his whole life had taken quite a turn.

  Terrorists. Would he and the BAT Team be able to find them? And, was there maybe someone now trying to find him?

  After joining the others in their secure operations center, he looked to see who would be providing an update on what their search so far had accomplished. He wasn’t surprised to see Major Schermerhorn step forward and ask for everyone’s attention. The major clicked the video controller he was holding and a map of Boston’s Dorchester area appeared on the large screen in front of them.

  “Here are the areas from which our four psychics here are getting signals which might have some connection with our special items.” The major used his pointer to indicate several city blocks. Everyone knew these items had been selected from the equipment sent back from the Herat training camp. “The good news is, everyone is sensing residual energy from the same items which in turn are providing some faint signals coming from these particular Dorchester neighborhoods. The bad news, of course, is those signals are so faint we can’t narrow down to any specific buildings and thus this area is still quite large with many possible places which will need to be searched.”

  For the past two days, each of the four witches had been taking turns, six hours at a time, with various items. Troy and Oliver had been up most of the night for their shifts while Millie and Desiree had just finished with theirs.

  Ed Collinsworth said, “Well, this gives us a much smaller target area than all of Boston, so I say it’s actually pretty good news, regardless. When looking at our BAT watch list, we can narrow it down to less than twenty names.” He had cross referenced and identified all those who had any connection to addresses within the designated area; this list now appeared up on the screen. “I can’t say I understand how you psychics are actually doing this, but …”, he glanced around and added, “I’m starting to think we might really be making some progress. If you are correct, we should be able to find these guys.”

  Robert said, “We’re not ready to share this with the entire BAT Team yet but I am giving it to Dale Hewson. We need his resources to start surveillance of these people and he assures me there won’t be any premature actions which might spook our suspects.”

  “Thank goodness for that!” exclaimed Millie.

  The discussion continued for another thirty minutes and then the meeting broke up and they all headed for home. They were hoping to enjoy being off for Sunday while they waited to hear from the new surveillance teams about any developments they might come up with.

  While Nasir Fadal and none of the others who had trained in Herat had their names on the list, both Abdullah Zahir and Yuri Qabani were amongst those who would now be getting looked at by these new teams.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dec 14, 2019

  “Ready yet?” asked Missy with just a touch of impatience in her tone. She’d just returned to her hotel room looking for Tracy. They’d returned after the game to change into their “civilian” attire and, after quickly getting into a pair of jeans and her “Go Army” tank top, she’d gone down the hall to talk to a few of her other classmates. The euphoria amongst the cadets after beating Navy was growing at an exponential rate, helped along by their learning they were now getting an extended curfew, in honor of the big win, so they could stay out extra late partying.

  Tracy called out from the bathroom, “Hey, we don’t all have super-speed like some folks, you know!” She walked out wearing a yellow outfit and cowboy boots, looking great. She had decided to dress up and definitely was ready-to-go.

  “Hey, isn’t that the outfit you wore when we went dancing that night in Cancun?”

  “Well, yeah … thankfully, it’s something that goes nicely with the white sweater your brother gave me for Christmas last year. I only wish he were here to see me wearing it.” Tracy pulled the sweater on but left it unbuttoned. Since the dress was sleeveless with a low neckline, the sweater would keep her from getting any chill.

  Both girls now had their hair combed out, worn in the pageboy style which met the academy regulations. Tracy had applied makeup and some eyeliner and mascara so her dark brown eyes really stood out. Missy had dressed down and hadn’t bothered with any makeup, trying to not stand out. Her green eyes, however, were filled with yellow speckles and she was radiating so much energy, there was little hope of her not commanding attention, in spite of how casually she was dressed.

  They locked up, took the elevator down to the lobby and went looking for their friends. They found them in the hotel bar which was completely filled with excited cadets; it was standing room only with very few actually seated. In spite of most cadets being underage and very little alcohol being served, the hotel’s bar was still making a huge profit. Their waitresses were jostling back and forth with platters of food and pitchers of soft drinks, trying to cope with the huge demand. The overflow from the restaurant out into both the lobby and the bar was quite large but the hotel had anticipated this, of course, and was well prepared.

  They found their friends had all gathered near Mitch Cooper who was the hero of the game. He was at a large table in one corner and, with Kelsey nestled closely next to him, was accepting congratulations from an endless flow of his classmates. Sharon, Sally, Kelly and a few other girls were seated at a nearby table with Marcus, Tony, Gary and several guys standing next to them.

  As Missy and Tracy approached, there were several welcoming calls and a couple of seats were quickly offered as guys rushed to make room for them. Tracy received several complimentary remarks on how nice she looked. The ratio of men to women was five-to-one and, with the atmosphere overflowing with testosterone, being chivalrous was now a competition. Any girl there was definitely getting special attention, whether she was dressed up or not. Their football team had won and it was time to party hearty!

  Various hors d’oeuvres and appetizers were currently being devoured with more food and beverages on order and expected to arrive shortly. Gary announced, “My dad told me I could run a tab and he’ll take care of paying the bill, so dig in! I’ve already ordered for everyone!” Gary’s dad was a Brigadier General who had recently rotated back for a stateside assignment. It turned out he’d been at the game and, since Army had won, he was gladly treating all of Gary’s friends. Gary added, “There should be plenty to eat, even with Missy here with us!” This got several laughs.

  Missy said, “Hey, that box lunch they gave us before the game was hardly enough … did anyone else almost faint out there during our march-on?”

  “The real question is did anyone else sneak some food onto the bus for the ride down here?” Tracy asked. “I’m sure Missy would’ve keeled over without all the extra snacks she probably brought.”

  “I did not bring any snacks!” protested Missy.

  Her denial was ignored and the conversation quickly returned to the game highlights. Then, someone started singing on the other side of the room and pretty soon everyone in the bar joined in. The place was completely filled with West Point cadets and Army fans; the celebration now got well under way.

  Missy and Tracy looked at one another and similar thoughts were going through their minds. Yes, they were supernatural beings, but today? Today, they were human beings and it was very, very good to just be that.

  -----

  At another bar, the mood was not at all celebratory but quite morose instead. Paul Morelli and his two companions were drinking heavily and their complaints were growing louder and more frequent. Their bookie Lenny had just called and was demanding several thousand dollars from the three of them. Right away.

  The g
uy on Paul’s left said, “I still can’t believe fucking Army won that game. I was way up this season and now I’m gonna be way down. Shit!”

  “Same here, Frank,” replied Clay on Paul’s right. “But Pauli lost more than both of us combined. Whatever happened to Navy being such a sure thing?”

  Paul looked back and forth at the two of them and said, “I say we change our luck and go grab some money from this fucking bookie instead of paying him. Why should D’Amato’s organization take advantage of us? Ain’t it enough he’s interfering with me seeing my girlfriend?”

  He’d been making some nice money all year long by helping one of his uncle’s bookies. He and his two buddies had been handling things at his college campus, not only taking bets but also, when needed, enforcing the collections. But, when he’d heard Navy was the heavy favorite for this game, he had wanted to score big and maybe take some revenge in a backhanded way at the same time. So, he’d placed a huge bet with one of D’Amato’s bookies and had encouraged his two friends to do likewise. That had now backfired.

  Clay asked, “You can’t be thinking about hitting somebody works for D’Amato? You know that’s the only way you can get any of his money, right? By killing him. Are you crazy?” While they hadn’t participated in the recent mob war, they’d needed to be extra careful until a truce had finally been declared. All the families had been hitting one another’s businesses, casino’s and night clubs, grabbing cash and drugs worth millions, all the while claiming they were only retaliating for attacks brought against them by the others. The collateral damage had been extensive and it still hadn’t been determined, as far as they knew, just how the war had started. D’Amato had been the one to end it, however, which was why Clay thought breaking the truce would be so crazy.

  Frank said, “You’ll have to somehow take out that bodyguard of his as well. Tiny. Shit. That guy’s a fucking legend. I know you’re trying to impress your uncle, Pauli, but he’s not gonna like you …”

  Paul interrupted quickly, saying, “Nobody needs to find out it was us, okay? Not if we do this right. And, nobody’s gonna want to do anything that looks like they’re breaking this fucking truce that D’Amato is taking credit for. Especially not anyone in D’Amato’s organization. That’s why I think the timing is actually good for this. We just need to make sure it looks like an accident.”

  -----

  Lenny Giddings had been supplementing his restaurant business income for ten years as a bookmaker for Tommy Muccio, a capo in Sal D’Amato’s organization. It had been easy to wash all the extra money, using his restaurant, and Tommy had always provided him with plenty of protection. Life had been good. But, then Tommy had been killed during the recent mob war and life had gotten much more complicated.

  Barely a week after Tommy’s death, the capo who replaced him -- Vincent Cappiello -- was found dead, an apparent suicide, and most of Vinnie’s crew had then disappeared. There were lots of rumors about that but it was pretty certain the disappearances were permanent. Sal had ended up dividing Tommy’s territory up amongst his other capos and Lenny now reported to Tyler “The Terror” Terada.

  The good news was Tyler had assigned one of Tommy’s former bodyguards, Tiny, to now be his protector. Tiny weighed over four hundred pounds and whatever name he may have originally had, it had long ago been forgotten and he was now only known as Tiny. He was not very bright but was extremely loyal to the organization. He did as he was told and had earned quite a reputation. The very formidable Tiny had been out running errands when Tommy had died. Many believed Tommy might still be alive had Tiny maybe been there that night.

  The bad news was Tyler had insisted on a twenty percent increase in his weekly take. If Lenny hadn’t needed to increase payments to Tyler, he never would have accepted the bets from Paul Morelli and his two buddies. But, there had been a lot of recent betting on Army winning and he’d needed to balance those with some heavy bets on Navy. So, when Morelli had called him, he’d said okay. Now that Army had won, he was feeling much better about that decision. He only needed to collect and all would be good. And, with Tiny right there to help, he wasn’t too worried.

  -----

  It was almost midnight when Paul knocked on the door at Lenny’s restaurant. Frank and Clay stood just behind him. The restaurant had closed at ten and all the workers were gone but Tiny was there and opened up for them. They were expected. After patting them down for any weapons, Tiny led them back to the office where Lenny was waiting.

  “Hey, Pauli, good to see you. You got my money, right?” Lenny was seated at his desk and watched warily as the three college kids were ushered into his office. They had obviously been drinking but had shown up, as he’d demanded. He wasn’t sure why they’d picked him to place their bets with rather than any of the bookies in Ray Morelli’s organization, but hey? Why look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

  Paul said, “Well, we brought you half. You said to come by tonight so we figured we’d bring you that much now and bring you the rest later.” He pulled a large brown envelope out of his coat pocket but held onto it. “Or, maybe instead of our just paying you the rest later we wondered if maybe you’d be interested in an arrangement.”

  Frank and Clay stayed a few steps back as Paul approached Lenny’s desk. Tiny was armed with a large revolver within easy reach inside his shoulder holster; he stood with his arms crossed, slightly back from the three visitors, eyes focused on Paul’s movements. The office was not that big and was now a bit crowded but Tiny wasn’t really expecting any trouble from these college boys.

  “What sort of arrangement?” asked Lenny. He was instantly suspicious and not at all pleased. If these idiots thought they …

  Paul suddenly turned around and rushed straight at Tiny, tearing open the envelope which he pressed tightly over Tiny’s nose and mouth. Paul had thoroughly soaked a handkerchief with chloroform and then had sealed it tight inside this envelope. Meanwhile, Frank and Clay each tackled Tiny at the same time, holding onto the huge man’s arms. All three attackers knew they needed to hold their breath. Unbelievably, due to Tiny inhaling a large breath as he reacted to all of this, he quickly lost consciousness and stopped struggling. Paul then pulled Tiny’s revolver out and spun back around to face Lenny.

  “What the fuck!” Lenny exclaimed, completely caught off guard. He hadn’t even tried to reach for the revolver inside his desk’s top drawer. “You assholes can’t get away with this,” he shouted. He started to stand up but stopped and just stared at the gun now pointed at him.

  Paul kept the gun leveled at Lenny and said, “Yes, we can and yes, we will. You’re going to open up whatever safe you have here and give us all your money. Otherwise, we’ll be causing you all kinds of pain.” Frank and Clay came around and quickly pinned Lenny in his chair so he couldn’t move. Paul said, “I’m gonna go grab some knives and stuff from the kitchen and be right back.” He turned and left the office.

  Lenny stared at Tiny, sprawled on the floor, out cold. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Looking back and forth at Frank and Clay, he said, “You kids realize what you’ve done? It’s not too late yet. Let me up and … and …” He slowly realized he couldn’t really think of any solution.

  Then Paul returned with several kitchen knives, a large meat cleaver and a few other items.

  Thirty minutes later there was a large explosion inside Lenny’s restaurant. While the circumstances of the apparent gas leak would look suspicious, there really would be no evidence to show this leak and the subsequent fire had not been an accident. Autopsies on the bodies of Lenny and Tiny would not reveal anything other than smoke inhalation as cause of death. And, Lenny’s charred remains wouldn’t reveal how badly he’d been tortured prior to succumbing.

  Paul and his two buddies stayed out late at a neighborhood bar, celebrating their now being almost ninety thousand dollars richer. Paul kept bragging how he’d known that chloroform he’d stolen from the university lab weeks earlier would come in handy someda
y. Yep! That day had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dec 15, 2019

  Russ Simonetti was awakened by the phone ringing and as he reached to answer it, he looked over at the clock. Almost five a.m. He knew this wouldn’t be good news. His first thought was Ray Morelli might be calling him but then he could see from the caller ID it was one of his guys.

  “Hey, boss? Sorry to bother you like this but you’re not gonna believe what happened last night.” The voice saying this was both apologetic and incredulous. “I can’t be sure but I think Pauli may have done something bad. You know how I’ve been following him around, keeping an eye on him like you said, right?”

  Russ answered, “Yeah, what about him?”

  “Well, I didn’t think that much about it at the time but then, when I heard about the fire … shit! I think he burned down that restaurant belongs to Lenny Giddings. And, it looks like Lenny and his bodyguard … you remember Tiny, right? Used to work for Tommy Muccio? Well, him too. Him and Lenny. They were inside the place when it happened.”

  “Let me get this straight,” said Russ. “You’re saying Lenny’s restaurant got torched? By Pauli?”

  “Yeah, well … he and two of his buddies were there right before it happened. I saw them go in and about a half hour later, I saw them come out. Then, I followed them over to this bar where they got really tanked. I kept out of sight so I couldn’t hear what they were talking about but they were pretty excited. Celebrating something, you know?”

  “Okay, okay. So, what about the restaurant?”

 

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