Tag
Copyright© 2025 by A Well Traveled Man
Chapter 13
Early Thursday morning, Tag was in the kitchen drinking his brew and going to the gym for his off-day workout. When he finished, he took a shower and returned to the kitchen. While eating breakfast, Tag thought about his day. After setting the bomb and alarm, he went through the tunnel, hopped on the soft tail, and rode to the warehouse. Tag went through the hidden access and set up his supply store. He put all firearms and explosive devices in the safe. The other items were placed on the shelves. When I was done, it looked nice and organized.
Tag locked it up, rode to the patent attorney, and applied for Vol 3 game patent/copyright. Then he rode to his friends, made the needed copies, and headed to the new house. Tag parked the bike, locked everything up, and went through the tunnel. He had a few thoughts as he entered the house and went upstairs. Tag got out the laptop, searched the Actors Guild, and called. He requested information on the requirements for working in a remote location. They asked for his ID number and email to send to him.
Tag asked if they could help steer him to a source on how to choose an agent. The person laughed and said tips were on their website. All he had to do was sign in. Tag gave them his email, and she said she would include the link to the member’s page. He thanked her and logged off. Then Tag was ready to go on the dark web and look for traps for the tunnel, but realized that if they reached that point, they knew anyway, so it was useless.
But he must fill some cabinets with things to make them look used. Three cabinet shit, oh well, maybe visit some yard sales. Yea! He checked his email, and the information was there. Tag printed three copies of the requirements and added the member’s link to his favorites. He debated what to do with the van, but the contents needed emptying before disposal. He’ll move and strip it tomorrow early. Tag ate lunch and continued working on Vol 4 Germany, hoping to finish before leaving. He programmed until dinner, hopped on the moped, and went to an Italian restaurant. Tag stopped at an Arco for fuel and a newspaper and headed home. He drank the brew, went to the gym, did his nightly routine, showered, and centered. I woke
2 am Friday, Tag was in the kitchen drinking the brew. He headed to the gym and did Sensi’s and weight routines, then dressed in black, went to the woods, and before he knew it, was walking out again. Tag could tell he did something by looking at his clothes, but he was in a zone. Then he visited the FBI boys in the SUV and took photos. He went home, showered, and sat nude in lotus and centered. Tag awoke, went to the kitchen, had breakfast, and looked in the paper for yard sales.
He found two close by to visit on Saturday. Then, Tag rode the BMX to the self-storage. He hooked up the battery, loaded the bike, drove to the warehouse, and pulled inside. Tag emptied the van, putting everything in its place and the firearms and explosives in the vault. He looked in the glove box, which had the pink slip signed by the previous owner, but the buyer’s side wasn’t filled out. He had an idea, so he left his BMX at the warehouse and drove the van to the Ford dealer.
Tag directed the sales manager to give him a fair deal on a sweet-looking black convertible Mustang in the showroom. The sales manager gladly accepted the van as a trade-in, and Tag drove the new Mustang to the new house and parked it. Then he jogged to stop and rob, called a cab, and ate lunch while waiting. He was delivered to the warehouse and rode the BMX home. Tag headed upstairs and called Grampa, asking to check the 5 o’clock news.
Tag worked on programming until 4:55 when he routed through four servers and signed in to the chatroom. We went to a private, encrypted room and said hello. Tag told Grampa about his problem and the solution. There was no response for a few minutes. Then he said to do a full page, but make it look professional. We logged off and searched for the local paper and then said screw it and called the LA Times. He asked for advertising, and a funny-sounding person answered, saying This is Ronny.
Tag told Ronny he had a serious problem and could lose his job if he couldn’t correct it. He told Ronny he was supposed to place a full-page ad in the Sunday paper and needed help. Ronny was finalizing the copy, and if he had art and fieldwork worked out, he could get there by 7 p.m., and it would go in. Tag said thanks, and he was on the way. Ronny told him where to go, and Tag ran to the stash. He grabbed the memory card and wore a disguise with a beard, special glasses, and a hat.
Tag ran downstairs to the tunnel and drove the Cuda to the LA Times. Ronny let him in, and we completed the ad in 15 minutes. Tag paid cash and went home. He ate a late dinner, drank the brew, and did his nightly workout, showered, and centered. Then he awoke.
Early Saturday morning, Tag drank the brew, did his off-day workout, beat the heavy bag, and cooled down on the speed bag. Then he went upstairs, showered, centered, and came out at 7 a.m. Tag went to Denny’s for breakfast and checked out the garage sales. He saw a wooden kitchen table with five chairs. Tag could envision his dummies sitting there for training and purchasing them with some games and a box of various electronic cables.
Then he saw some boxes on the side and asked what they were. The lady said her son had an idea of building a bike and spent two years buying shit, as she put it. Then, all of a sudden, he meets a girl and moves across the country, leaving me with it. Tag asks her how much and says $150. He pays her and says he needs to get his truck and return. She points to a Ford F250, her son’s first project, which he never finished. It’s for sale too. She hands Tag the keys, and he drives to the new house, drops everything off, and runs it by a local auto repair shop. They checked it out and said it looked completely redone. It was the paint and interior that needed work.
Tag gave the repair shop $200 and drove back to the yard sale. He bought the truck for $3,500 and drove it home. He returned to the yard sale, picked up Cuda, drove to the new house, and parked in the garage. Tag programmed for the rest of the day until dinner time. He ate dinner, drank the brew, and headed to the gym. Tag did his nightly routine, showered, sat nude in the lotus position, and centered. He woke up
2 a.m. Sunday, Tag was in the kitchen drinking the brew and off to the gym for his off-day workout, and gets in some bag work. Then he headed to the shower and then centered. He came out and went to the kitchen for breakfast. While he was eating, the phone rang. It was Jim, and he said What have you done? (I play dumb) and say whatever they are saying. He’s innocent, he swears. What was he accused of doing? Jim asks if he read the Sunday LA Times.
Tag says no, we don’t get the paper. What does the newspaper have to do with your call? Jim says there’s a full-page ad on the second page of the main section, metro and home. Tag asked what’s so unusual about full-page ads. Jim reads to him, and Tag says well, it sounds true. Don’t they have a lot of free time on their hands? Isn’t it true that they park on public streets and guard neighborhoods 24 hours a day in the interest of public safety? He doesn’t see what the problem could be.
Jim said to be by his phone in the morning. We will be getting a call for sure. Tag said he would be waiting for his call. He goes back upstairs and programmed until noon. After lunch, he headed down the tunnel to the garage and worked setting up his workshop. Tag organized the workbenches and parts. He realized he needed some more stuff. Tag drove the F250 to the Tractor and Trailer supply. He picked up three more workbenches, rubber mats for the floor, and three adjustable-height chairs. He also picked up some more parts trays and headed to the new home. He finishes setting up his workshop at dinner time. Tag locked up and headed up the tunnel to go home and fix dinner. He drank the brew and did his nighttime routine. Then he kicked and hit the bag into submission and cooled down on the speed bag. Tag showered and centered. When he awoke, it was the next day.
Early Monday morning, Tag was in the kitchen drinking the brew and headed to the gym. He did Sensi and weight training and dressed in black for his trip in the woods. Tag finished his ninja routine and stopped to see the FBI boys in their SUV. He takes pictures and heads home. Tag has a good, long, hot shower and centers. When he came out, Tag went to the kitchen for breakfast and just finished when the phone rang. It was Jim, and we were summoned to the Judges’ chambers at 9 a.m. He printed 20 photos and hopped in his Chevy truck with the tracker.
Tag arrived at 8:45, met Jim, and we walked into the Judges’ chamber. There were two lawyer types and another guy who was FBI and sat down. Soon, all hell breaks loose, with threats of a lifetime in prison being one. Tag sits and says nothing, and the judge looks at him and asks if he did it. Tag asked Did what? The judge looks at Jim and Tag, opens the paper, and hands it to him to read. Tag read it and said if he placed the ad, he wanted to know what the problem was with the ad.
There was more yelling, and he waited until it settled down and reviewed the ad line item by line item. Tag turned to the FBI guy and said we hadn’t been introduced. I’m Thomas Gallo, and you are? He says he’s Jack Spire, the Special Agent in Charge of the Los Angeles Office. So, Tag says, then you are in charge of everything that goes on in the LA area? Jack says yes. So, Tag asks why, after receiving an order from a federal judge, your agents have camped on his street and followed him for six weeks, and they even put a tracker on his truck to keep track of him. Then he hands Jack photos of his agents camped in front of his house.
Tag says he thought that only a total moron would intentionally violate a federal judge’s order and put a tracking device without a warrant. So, he felt that he couldn’t validate whether you were a total moron, so he had to assume you were doing it for public safety. Now follow his reasoning, and he’s assuming you aren’t a total moron. If the FBI could spend six weeks guarding his neighborhood, why can’t they offer to all citizens of the greater Los Angeles area?
Looking at the manpower spent in his neighborhood, he assumed you boys at the FBI didn’t have much to do. So, he thought, why not offer it to the masses and, if it works, go national? Just think of your name in lights on the DC Times, saying Special Agent in charge of Los Angeles, Jack Spire, built this program and wants it expanded nationwide. Maybe give your office number for feedback and support. There was silence in the room for what seemed to be 5 minutes.
Tag said Mr. Spire, you have violated my civil rights mindlessly, and he will see you in jail for it, along with every agent who has or will continue. Then he will file a civil suit and see you penniless. He’s been nice up to this point, but what has happened and continues will be on every network by tomorrow if his demand is unmet. The United States Attorney General made that before a federal judge. This is not a threat but a promise. If he sees another agent anywhere around him, he guesses the answer is no.
Tag stood and walked out of the room, and drove home. He entered his street, and there were no FBI agents as he drove up the driveway. Jim called and told him the conversation in the room was somber after he left. The special agent assured Jim that all actions would cease, and he would call the attorney general when he returned to his office. He said the judge was shocked at the FBI’s actions. He asked Tag to keep his phone close.
He ate lunch and programmed until dinner. Tag walked down the driveway, and there were no FBI agents, so he hit the right nerve and went and made dinner. After drinking the brew, he did his nighttime routine, beat the ever-living shit out of the heavy bag, cooled down with the speed bag, and hit the shower. Sitting nude in lotus and centering everything was fine. Then he awoke.
2 a.m. Tuesday, Tag was in the kitchen drinking brew, then went to the gym. He did his off-day workout and bag work. Showered and centered. He woke up and headed to breakfast. After breakfast, he went upstairs and searched for highly rated paint shops. Tag printed them, then searched for auto upholstery shops and printed the top three. He locked up and went through the tunnel to the new garage. Hopping in the F250, he headed to the first paint shop. He looked at it and quoted a high price. Tag asked about the time to do it and was told 3 weeks.
Well, he lost the job and went on to the second shop. This one impressed him. The owner was Todd West, and he looked at the truck. Todd said he wouldn’t paint it if it were his. He said it was a 4x4 that had lost its markings, and he would put on a tough coat that resists scratching and doesn’t have to be waxed. Just use mild soap and rinse. Todd told Tag to follow him, and we went to the back, where a pickup was just like the one he had. Tag asked what colors, and we walked to the office and picked a gray/black mix. Tag asked who he recommended for the interior, and Todd gave him the name. We agreed on price and factory markings (not decals), and Todd could start tomorrow if he wanted. Tag said he could leave it today and call a cab. He just wanted to get the interior scheduled.
Todd said to follow him, and we walked through the front door, made a right, and two down was the shop. We talked about what he wanted, and Tag picked from pictures he had and was done. Tag called a cab and returned to the new house. He pulled his new Mustang out, drove around, went home to his garage, and parked it. He closed everything up, entered the house, ate lunch, and programmed until dinner. Tag drank the brew and went to the gym for his night routine and bag work. He showered and centered. Then he awoke
Early Wednesday morning, Tag was in the kitchen drinking a brew and then going to the gym. A full workout today with Sensi’s and weight routine, followed by the torture room. He walked in, viewed it, and turned out the lights. When Tag turned on the light thirty minutes later, the heavy bags were still swinging, and the dummies were all dead from knives. He walked around the table, removed the knives, and shut off the lights. Tag returned home for a shower and centering. He woke up and went to the kitchen for breakfast.
After breakfast, Tag went upstairs, powered up the desktop, and searched for the best investigative reporters. He also searched for the phone numbers of CNN, NBC, CBS, and Fox. Tag started picking up the phone, and Jim called to say they had a deal. And he could come down to his office to view and sign it. He hopped in the Mustang and drove to Jim’s office. We read it and agreed, then signed it and shook hands. It was done with thank God. Tag went home, worked the rest of the day on programming, breaking only for lunch, and finished Germany Vol 4.