***
The hotel complimentary breakfast was nearly a full buffet. A significant dip in the bacon, scrambled eggs and muffins was quickly done and gone. The coffee pot was down by four cups in short order.
After they returned the car to Detective Marshall, McKenzie and John headed to South Pointe Park by the ship canal to wait for the arrival of Chuck and Cliff. Rob was picking up Chuck at Opa-Locka Executive Airport where no one would be interested in the cargo of his old 1977 Cessna 172M. Cliff was already in town and heading their way, having driven in from his latest building implosion job in Fort Lauderdale.
John had the information they gathered earlier in a file. He had printed out a satellite image of the warehouse and blown up images of various areas around it. A photo of the yacht with the call signs for the boat, photos they got of the different men patrolling the area, photos of Lorenzo and of both kids, and other information was all prepared to fill everyone in. McKenzie wanted to get things going as soon as possible.
Marissa had called Lorenzo, with Rob’s supervision, and told him she had found Bobby and some of the money and was bringing both to him that night. Although Lorenzo was skeptical at first, Marissa was eventually able to convince him by confirming Bobby’s dad as their father’s killer and making it out to be a vengeance plot. McKenzie was hoping that with the plan in place, once they were able to get their guys and gear to the marina, the kids would still be there with Lorenzo. His only fear was not knowing what the inside of the warehouse looked like outside of Marissa’s vague descriptions.
McKenzie looked up as he saw the pudgy man with black shaggy hair bumbling toward them. He wasn’t fat, exactly, but McKenzie couldn’t help but feel bad at the toll a diet of booze and takeout food had done to his friend and demo engineer.
“Shut up, old man. At least I still have my sexy hair.” Cliff grinned as he plopped onto the bench across from McKenzie.
“I keep mine cut short just to give the ladies a chance without facing me in all my magnificent glory.” McKenzie shook his head. “How you been, Cassidy?”
“Eh, you know, same shit, different year. Still separated from the wife, still drinking too much, I’ old.”
McKenzie nodded. John smiled as he shook his head. It had been awhile since all the Old Farts were together. McKenzie had hoped he could try to get Bailey down there, but he wasn’t sure the man could do much. Last he heard, Phil Bailey was in a wheelchair and not holding up the best with old age. It made him sad, watching them all begin to bend and shrink under the weight of age. They had strength, integrity, and abilities, and now it was all they could do to still use what was left to still do things they could be proud of, things they believed in. McKenzie tried not to dwell on it, the whole sad fact of life.
Cliff had them holding their sides in laughter by the time Rob came up with Chuck. The loner sniper had hardly changed a bit. He was still thin as a pole, but his arms showed a muscle tone that even McKenzie was a bit jealous of. His small smile and nod to his buddies were all that they expected from the quiet man. Rob had to shuffle to sit at the table, leaning his cane against the side, as Chuck slid between him and Cliff. McKenzie waited while everyone went through their pleasantries and catching up on bullshit before calling attention to the matter at hand. He didn’t have to wait long.
“So what’s the SITREP, Cap’n?” Chuck picked up the satellite images.
“To the point, alright.” McKenzie filled them in on the case, everything he and John had been through and found out. It was odd, once again, to have all those eyes watching, listening, and beginning to formulate their parts of the plan.
“So how’s tonight gonna go?” Cliff glanced up at McKenzie from the pages and images in front of them.
“Well, we have Lorenzo believing that Marissa is coming out tonight with Bobby and some of the cash in tow. This means Lorenzo should be there, and hopefully, the kids will be too. Logically, in order to get the rest of whatever Bobby has, he will need to use the kids as leverage. So we need to find a way to get eyes in the warehouse, clear the guards walking around, get the kids out of there, and then I have someone I’ll call and the cavalry swoops in and does their end of the deal. I need a sniper to take out the guys with guns,” McKenzie looked to Chuck, “and possibly a nice boom for a distraction to get the kids out,” he pointed to Cliff, “the goal is the kids, safe and whole, out as soon as possible. The PD will deal with the cartel, so we don’t need to worry past getting the kids and ourselves out of there.”
As everyone nodded, the plan began to pull together. McKenzie hoped everything worked out. He saw the hope in Rob’s eyes, that his grandkids, and his son, would be safe. John was nervous but excited. Chuck was quiet, his mind speaking volumes through his eyes as he scanned the photographs and diagrams. Cliff made his jokes about blowing up the whole city just to be safe, but in the end, decided on the best places to set off distraction charges. McKenzie was pleased as they wrapped up their meeting and agreed to meet in the park near the marina before nightfall.
The Old Farts In Miami Page 13