by Tom Fugate
“Now, from this point on you are never unarmed while this operation continues. The Walther and the Beretta are both to have a full magazine and a round in the chamber. I will also see if I can find you an ugly knife.” She nodded with a look on her face that said that she was realizing the situation. She was probably realizing for the first time in her career how lucky she had been in Europe.
I went to my bag and got out the carbine. I loaded one of the empty magazines from the box of .30 carbine ammunition. Unfolding the stock I put the twenty round magazine into the gun. Stepping to the line I chambered a round and fired ten shots in a controlled cadence of two shots, pause, two shots until I had fired the ten. I handed her the rifle.
“Center mass on that target.” She took the gun and settled it into her shoulder. Her cadence was not as controlled as mine but she did not hurry the shots. When the bolt locked back she removed the magazine and laid the gun on the bench. We walked downrange to retrieve the target at 100 yards. Her group was all with the “A” hit zone of the target. She was more than proficient. My shots were all in the head, but then I had fired that gun a lot and I am sniper qualified.
Chapter 13
Sylvia pulled out one of the holsters for the Walther and then put it and the gun into the outside pocket of the bag she carried. She put a loaded magazine and one loose round in that pocket also. The bag was really a large purse. I settled up with the nice lady while Sylvia excused herself to the restroom with her bag. I watched her go with a little too much enthusiasm and the lady behind the counter giggled like a school girl. The sound brought me back to normal and I turned back to her and finished our business. We were paid up and ready to go when Sylvia reappeared. The nice lady told us to have a nice day and to come back soon. We walked out the exit door.
“Walther in the small of the back?” I asked her out of professional curiosity. Also I did not want to risk being startled if for the sake of our cover I put my arm around her waist. Finding out the lady is packing heat can startle even a professional.
“Yes, it fits the best dressed like this. I also have the Beretta in the ankle holster that was in the bag. The Smith is in a concealed pocket in the bag.”
“It is very unusual for a woman to be carrying more weapons than me. I only have two guns today, but I do have a couple of knives.” She looked at me with a question written on her face. “North American Arms .22 magnum revolver in the watch pocket of my jeans,” She nodded. “So I get the feeling you’re a belt and suspenders kind of gal.” I was referring to carrying all of those guns but she blushed. I knew what she was thinking immediately. “The kind that hold up your pants, not the other kind.” I had embarrassed the girl without meaning to.
“Sorry, I thought you had looked in the bags and seen some of my purchases.” She smiled a crooked smile. Now my face got a bit red as she embarrassed me. I did not know if she had something like that in the bags or if she was just getting even. If we had not been working together I might have decided to find out.
It was very quiet and a bit uncomfortable in the car as we left the gun range. We followed tradecraft and meandered a bit. We passed a pawn shop and I pulled over and went in to look at some knives. I bought her two. One was a slim folder with a thumb stud that allowed it to open almost as fast as a switchblade. The other was a small thin solid body knife with a skeleton handle. It was in a small sheath that could go on a belt or hang from a lanyard. Not a big knife but very effective in the right situation. One of my personal rules is to always carry a knife. Years later a Navy cop on TV had the same rule. I guess great minds think alike.
After that we had some Cuban sandwiches for lunch and rambled about some more on the way to the safe house. Jacob’s car was not in the garage when we pulled in. We closed the garage and went into the house carrying the shopping bags and the bags we had taken to the range. Jacob had left a note that he was doing some scouting and visiting a couple of the bars that I had been frequenting. I knew that there was a crew covering his back. Going at a different time of day could put you in touch with an entirely different clientele.
We sat at the kitchen table and cleaned guns while I filled her in on the things I had not wanted to talk about in public. I called the cell phone in Jacob’s car and had him rent an invisible car. He brought a Toyota. We began to make plans for the next evening. Today we would familiarize her with the area and the players. The three of us got in the Toyota and we let her drive. You learn streets better when you are driving, at least I think so. By the time we stopped for dinner she knew most of the ins and outs of the players.
Our rounds Monday night would be the same bars I had visited before. My personal bet was that contact would be made in the bar where the idiot had been hired to harass me. I took a nap. I am not sure what Sylvia did. I knew she could not contact anyone without me knowing about it. My people were listening to any outgoing conversations. I was not really worried about her spilling anything to anyone. She was extremely unlikely to have any contacts in the area. Beside she had not known that she was going to be there. Her bosses at Langley? One of them was trying to use her as a scapegoat so she probably wasn’t going to call anyone there.
Jacob came in about 4 PM. He had left earlier in the day to collect information from our control team and probably to find those odds and ends that he felt were essential. We sat with him and made our plans. Sylvia and I would travel in my car as a couple. He would travel in his and meet us at each bar. I wanted people to know that I was not working alone but not seem like I was flaunting my associates. Robertson and his people had to believe that I was a very small operation who would pose no danger to them. I wanted them to hire me not retire me.
We were going to the same clubs I had hit before. I decided that the club where the idiot had tried to rob me would be our third of four or five stops. My feeling was that Robertson or one of his people had actually been there that night. If that was true then they were probably there quite often. My money was that was the bar where they would make contact, maybe not that night but soon.
We hit the refrigerator and made sandwiches from the supplies that I had laid in and Jacob had added to. All of us were going armed when we hit the clubs. Of course that was my standard procedure most anytime. I sat in the office of the safe house and wrote up some notes on what had happened so far. Next I went into my bedroom and lay down on the bed with the lights out. I was not sleeping, just getting my head together. We were getting into the meat of the assignment and the danger was real. One of the reasons my group had been brought in was that we made things happen. By the time we came into the picture most of the preliminary investigating was done. Most of the evidence was in but needed some tying together. I was the end game of the operation. I was the specialist who finished things and took no credit for it. My contribution should end up just a footnote unless things really went south.
I laid on the bed about 15 or 20 minutes. If I told you that I achieved a Zen-like state of mind I would be full of crap. I was trying to prepare my mind for what might happen. By the time all of us were ready to go out it was about 6:30. There was no point in hitting any of the locations we thought that Robertson might be in before 8PM at the earliest. His minions might be there before then but the boss would not show before about 10PM.
I was dressed in my usual I don’t care what you think casual look. Jeans, a green (not pastel) polo shirt and a light-weight sport coat, to cover my gun, and a pair of sensible lace up shoes were my attire. Don’t wear loafers on the job, they might come off if you have to run. Jacob was done up right without looking tacky. He could have stepped off of the set of Miami Vice. I looked more like someone from Mayberry Vice. Then there was Sylvia. Her dress came down to just above her knees and had slits on the outside of each leg that came up to about mid thigh. When she walked you could see the tops of stockings that were a very fine fishnet weave and a pale gray. The dress was a teal blue and rather clingy with a pale pattern on it that looked vaguely oriental. I was beginnin
g to wish that I had hung around for the trying on part of the shopping on Sunday. This was the first time that I had seen her legs. Jacob and I helped each other pick our jaws off of the floor. The legs might not have been Tina Turner class but they were definitely somewhere in the same zip code.
I cleared my throat, “Are you armed?”
“Well, the Walther and the folding knife are in my pocketbook,” the pocket book was a medium size clutch with a shoulder cord. It matched the dress. “If I tell you where the Beretta and other knife are hidden we might have to get married.” She was enjoying this. You could tell from the cat ate the canary grin.
“I can handle it, I am a professional. No, we’ll guess. Jacob you first.” He smiled and looked her up and down in a professional and still slightly lecherous wolf manner.
“The Beretta is in a thigh holster just above the slit of the dress on her left leg since she is right handed. I figure that the knife is probably no more than six inches long and she has it on her right leg on the inside of her thigh.” She blushed and I knew he was right. My guesses were the same as his. There are only so many places to hide something in a dress like that.
“And I thought that I was being so clever.” She sounded a bit disappointed.
“Of course we figured it out. We are professionals and probably slightly perverted.” I looked at Jacob and grinned.
“Speak for yourself. I am very perverted,” he said with a straight face. Sylvia turned a most becoming shade of crimson. We would have picked on the third member of our group even if it had been a male. You always tease the rookie. “I guess she is our magician’s assistant.”
“That she is,” I said with a broad smile. She looked slightly puzzled. I explained, “The job of the good looking magician’s assistant is to assist with the tricks but also to distract the audience. You are quite capable of doing that.” Her face turned even redder. “Relax; you look fine, more than fine. You’ve never hazed a rookie?” She relaxed a bit when I said that. Now she realized we were trying to be humorous before we went into a situation that could be dangerous. She had thought at first that we were being crass, sexist men and maybe we were a bit. You can’t change biology. Women looking like her would bring at least some of that out in any straight guy. We had to keep the mood light and under control. You have to be relaxed when and if it hits the fan. In some types of operations it is not if the brown and smelly hits the fan it is when. I had a feeling that this would be one of those operations before all was said and done.
Chapter 14
We killed some time going over some of the operational details of the evening. The things we covered were code words and hand signs for danger signals and other things. We would have done this even if one of our team was not a relative rookie. You drill on things until they are automatic. Take too long to think of a response and someone could die, unfortunately it could be you. Between one thing and another we left our humble abode about 7:30. Jacob headed out first because I wanted him at the first club at least twenty minutes before I arrived with my “Lady”. No, I did not say that to Sylvia’s face, the girl was heavily armed.
Sylvia’s and my route was somewhat circuitous and even as we neared our destination it was weaving. I was checking for cars that were known to be driven by our quarry’s minions. I parked the car myself. Valet parking is a sure way to no have wheels when you need them. Our space was one block past the club. We walked to the door. There was already a line even though it was rather early. These were the wannabes, the hangers on. I handed the bouncer on the line a hundred and we became VIPs. Of course he had seen me here before and I had tipped well those times also. Money talks. A few people on the line looked pissed but the ones who saw the money change hands understood. Ordinary people do not hand out business cards with an image of Benjamin Franklin on them. For those people I was pegged as one of the reasons that they frequented these establishments. I was obviously one of the bad boys. One of the people that they want to be near just not too near.
As we walked into the noise I leaned in and asked Sylvia, “What do you drink?”
“Whisky, neat,” was her reply. The way she said the word whisky seemed to me to leave out the e. So scotch was the tipple at this bar. My kind of woman.
We found a table near a wall where we had a view of the entrance and the dance floor. As we sat a waitress walked up and asked what we were drinking. I ordered two Johnny Walker Red, no ice. My choice was based on it being a good enough Scotch to drink and not so good you would hate to leave it untouched if you had to. We would probably stay here no more than an hour if that. Nurse one drink for that time and there would be almost no alcohol effects, especially since we had made sure to not come in on an empty stomach. This might be the only alcohol we had all evening. That did not mean that I might not appear drunk later if the situation called for it. They teach some odd classes at the FARM.
The waitress brought our drinks. We sat, listened to music and acted like we were having a conversation. While we were smiling and laughing our words were actually about our surroundings and the people in the place. No one really stood out as paying attention to us except maybe one guy across the room sitting at the opposite wall. Something about him looked familiar but the face did not seem to be one of the ones we had studied as part of Robertson’s organization. Part of me was sure I had seen him before. I rubbed the side of my head with my left hand. The move would have looked like I was brushing back hair if mine had been long enough to need brushing back. From the end of the bar farthest from the entrance I saw Jacob give the classic con artist finger to the side of the nose to acknowledge that he had seen my signal. After a couple of minutes he came strolling over to our table and made a big production of shaking hands and giving a hug to an old friend.
“Guy alone along the opposite wall. He looks familiar. Keep an eye on him.” With the background noise I knew that no one would have heard what I said.
“No problem. I spotted him too. He is either watching you or he has an eye for our lady friend, but he keeps watching you. I got your six.” We made a show of more soul handshakes and he walked away. It was just someone saying hello to an old friend not anything that would stand out in anyone’s memory for long.
No one approached us or overtly seemed to be watching except for that one guy. When Sylvia and I got up to leave just a few minutes later the man we were watching got up when we did and got to the door before us.
Sylvia learned into me and whispered, “Should I give him time to get outside?”
“An excellent idea. Ladies room?” She nodded at me and headed for the restroom.
Jacob grinned as he walked past me a few feet away. He waved as he went by which is the least anyone who had seen our earlier display would expect. I think he, like me, was becoming impressed with the young ladies skills. She had not done anything big, but big had not been necessary and she had done small really well. Both men were well outside when Sylvia returned and we walked out of the club and to my car. A quick and automatic survey of the car and its surroundings revealed nothing so I unlocked her door and then went to the driver’s side as she got in. By the time I had the key in the ignition she had turned on one of the built in radios. I pressed the talk button hidden in the steering wheel.
“Jacob, do you have eyes on our friend?” I let go of the button. There was no worry about anyone listening in. These radios were current spec ops types that were encrypted and almost as secure as encrypted secure land lines.
“Yes I do and he is most definitely following you. I am about half a block behind him and I have his license plate number.
“Let me have the number and I will get an id.” The new voice on the radio net belonged to John. As he spoke Sylvia leaned over and pretended to kiss my neck. That was a nice bit of tradecraft. Anyone seeing us now knew why we had not just started the car and driven away. I started the car and pulled out into the street.
“Was she nibbling your ear,” Jacob’s voice took on a curious tone. H
e released the talk button.
“No but she was pretending to.”
“Good acting on her part. It sure looked real from here.” I knew she was blushing without even looking at her after he said that.
“Jacob, just drive around for a while. I want to wait for the ID to come back on our friend. I am going to drive around in circles and confuse the guy. You stay on him. I really want to know what he does if I lose him. Make that when I lose him.”
“Affirmative Captain. Oops, I forgot the promotion, Major.” From his tone you could tell that he could be the kind of man who would make superior officers of the wrong mindset totally nuts. He knew it probably would not bother me. We had had our asses shot at together. “Shall we give this boy a wild ride?”
“Roger that Petty Officer.” I said as I dropped down a gear and accelerated down the street. I made a right turn and then the first left. I slowed to see if my pursuit was still around.
“What is with the military ranks?” Sylvia asked. I glanced over at her.
“Just something we have in common. We might tell you about it sometime.” I saw the headlights in my rear view mirror. I kept the speed down for a bit to see how far he would close in. I looked over at my companion again, “Is your seatbelt fastened?” She muttered something that sounded like she was saying not yet as she reached for the seatbelt. I would wait till she had fastened it before the ride got interesting.
Chapter 15
The tail closed to about half a block. He did not seem to care if we knew he was there. Acting like that meant that there were two logical possibilities. He had been told to follow us or he was thinking that the clean cut guy with lots of money was a good person to rob. For his sake I hoped it was option one because trying to rob me pisses me off almost as much as trying to kill me.