Chapter 5

“What’s wrong?” Beverly asked when Ryan ended the call.

“They’ve taken Sarah and little Ryan,” Ryan said.

“Oh my God,” Beverly said.

“Listen, I have to get home, make some calls,” Ryan said. “Do what you normally do. Don’t say anything to anyone.”

“Okay, dear,” she said. “I just have a few things to do here. I’ll come right over when I’m finished. We’ll get through this, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. He gave Beverly a kiss and left for home. Once there, he called Bill.

“Hey, how’s it hangin?” Bill asked.

“Not good, they’ve taken Sarah and little Ryan,” Ryan said.

“Oh shit,” Bill said. “Any idea where they’re going?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “I haven’t verified it but I have a pretty good idea. Look, I need you to reach out to the old team, get ‘em here as fast as you can. Got it?”

“Got it, old friend,” Bill said. “I’ll be in touch.” They ended the call and Ryan dialed Jorge’s number.

“Evening,” Jorge said. “What’s the word?”

“I just heard from Bob. Elmer’s boys grabbed Sarah and little Ryan,” Ryan said. “Also killed the two FBI guys protecting them.”

“Crap,” Jorge said.

“My thoughts exactly,” Ryan said. “I’ve reached out to Bill. He’s making some calls. I want you to reach out to both Bob and Bill. I’d like you on the team if that’s possible.”

“You think they’re going to the retreat?” Jorge asked.

“I do,” Ryan said.

“Okay, I’ll reach out to them and call you back,” he said. “I’ve got something that might come in handy.” They ended the call, and Ryan went into his home office, where he had a map of the retreat on a board. He studied the map and began making plans. A few minutes later, Beverly came through the front door and stood next to Ryan.

“What are you planning?” she asked.

“I need to take a look at that camp,” he said.

“What?” she asked. “Are you going there tonight? Alone?”

“I need to know if our intel is correct and I need to know if they’ve taken Sarah and Ryan there,” Ryan said. “I can’t do that from here. It’s only about two and a half hours by car. I can cross Hwy 62 here, take this road into New Mexico and be north of their camp. If this is correct, I can be right here,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map, “and I should be able to look right down into their retreat without them knowing a thing.”

“What if someone like a neighbor spots you?” she asked.

“From the satellite photo I got off the Internet, it doesn’t look like there’s anyone living within 10 miles of the place, so I don’t think that’ll be an issue,” he said.

“Why don’t you just call the FBI and let them deal with this?” she asked.

“Right,” Ryan said. “Because the FBI did such a terrific job protecting my family. Look, Bev, these people are dangerous and they don’t play by the rules. Neither do I. They might expect the FBI, but they’re not expecting me. Besides, they have my family and I made Elmer Jenkins a promise. This has to end now.”

“You have to do this?” she asked.

“I do, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s my family they’ve got. Don’t worry. I’m just going to do some recon. Two and a half hours there, maybe a half hour or so on site, then two and a half hours back. It’s 8:00 now. If you don’t hear from me by, say, 11:30 or so, call this number.” He handed her Agent Smith’s card. “Tell him where I am. He’ll take it from there.”

“All right,” she said. He handed her a .45 caliber pistol.

“You hang on to that,” he said. “If anyone other than me gets through that door, you know what to do. Aim center mass and fire.”

“Okay,” she said nervously. He took her to a closet in the hallway, opened the door and pulled a hidden rope. The floor opened up, revealing a set of stairs.

“Then you get yourself in here, close this behind you and get the hell out. It opens up out by the pistol range,” he said. “Got it?” She nodded her head.

“I got it,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “I just need to grab a few things and I’m gone.” He went back to his office and grabbed the backpack he put together earlier. Beverly went into the kitchen and came back with his thermos, full of fresh, hot coffee. He smiled as she handed it to him.

“Remember I love you,” she said, kissing him deeply.

“I love you, too,” he said, returning her kiss. “Don’t worry, this is just a recon. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back. Don’t call me. If Bill, Bob or Jorge calls, tell them to text me. I’ll call them back.”

“What if the people who took your daughter call? What do I tell them?” she asked.

“Tell them I’m out drinking a beer or something,” he said. “Take a message, text me and I’ll call them back.”

“Okay,” she said. They kissed one more time and Ryan headed out. She watched the truck go down the driveway, tears in her eyes. “Please God,” she prayed. “Keep my man safe and bring him back to me.”

Ryan filled up both of his truck’s fuel tanks in town, as well as the two five-gallon cans he kept for emergencies. He knew there was a station where the road crossed the highway, and he planned to top off his tanks there, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He headed on through town and made it to the highway, where he topped off his tanks and refilled his thermos. Now it was on into New Mexico.

He carefully followed the road and finally got to his destination. He put the truck into four-wheel drive and followed the dirt road for about 100 yards before shutting down. He grabbed his backpack and applied camouflage paint to his face. He took the night vision binoculars and carefully made his way to the rocks overlooking the camp.

Attaching the binoculars to his head, he looked and found a Lear Jet parked at one end of a dirt runway, indicating that the board, along with Sarah and little Ryan, were already there. He scanned the camp itself, and noticed it was surrounded with a high chain link fence. Probably electrified, he told himself, observing what looked like signs attached here and there to the fence. He suspected the place was surrounded with sensors to detect possible intruders.

There was one gate, manned by two guards, and he counted 12 other guards walking the grounds. There could be more, he thought. Perhaps they were already inside one of the log buildings. He studied their movements and made notes on his pad.

As he watched, he saw a woman and a young boy being led into one of the buildings by an armed guard and a bigger man he thought looked like Elmer. No doubt, this was Sarah and Ryan. He made note of the building on his pad.

He spotted several other unarmed individuals wandering between the buildings without a care in the world. They seemed to be slightly drunk and he could hear them laughing and joking, although he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Perhaps these were other members of the board, there for the festivities.

He made notes on the terrain and the general layout of the area, then slowly made his way back to the truck. Consulting his watch, he realized he had been there for just over 30 minutes. He put everything away and wiped the camo paint off his face. He reconnected his smartphone to the truck’s Bluetooth so he could use it hands-free, then eased the truck back up to the road, keeping his headlights off.

When he got to the road, he turned and sped off, keeping his lights off for at least a mile. Fortunately, there was enough moonlight that he could see the road quite clearly. After he felt that he was in the clear, he called Beverly.

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m on my way back.”

“So you got what you needed?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “No problem. Any news on your end?”

“Yeah, I got a call from Jorge, he said to let you know they’re on their way and you can call his cell when it’s safe,” she said. They, Ryan wondered. Who the hell is “they?” He dialed Jorge’s cell. Bob answered the phone.

“Hey, Ryan,” he said.

“Hey yourself,” Ryan said. “What’s going on?”

“Well, Jorge, Bill and I are on our way to your place,” Bob said.

“What?” Ryan asked. “All three of you?”

“Yeah,” Bob said.

“Look, son, this isn’t a camping trip, you know,” Ryan said.

“I know, Ryan,” Bob said. “But they’ve got my family and I’m not just going to sit around waiting for someone else.” Ryan knew how Bob must be feeling, so he chose not to argue the point, at least not on the phone.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ryan said. “Let me talk to Bill.” He could hear the phone changing hands.

“Yeah, boss,” Bill said.

“You get in touch with the old team?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah, some of them, anyway,” Bill said. “I spoke to Ian, Buster, Cap and Jim. They’re on their way to your place now. Should be there about noon or so.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “When do you think you’ll be there?”

“The way Jorge’s driving, I’d say about 5 pm or so,” Bob said. Damn, Ryan thought. Jorge must be driving like a bat out of hell.

“Alright, I’ll see you then,” Ryan said. “Be safe.” He ended the call and kept driving. He pulled up in front of his house, grabbed his gear and went inside, where Beverly was waiting for him. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank God you made it home,” she said. “I was so worried about you.” He hugged her back and returned her kiss.

“Nothing to be worried about,” he said. “It was just a recon.”

“Are they at the retreat, like you thought?” she asked.

“They are,” he said. “And they have Sarah and little Ryan there.”

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“Some friends are on their way,” he said. “I intend to go get them.”

“What?” she asked, shocked. “Are you nuts?”

“Probably,” he said. “I warned Elmer Jenkins what would happen if he messed with my family. You should probably stay here tonight, just to be safe.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But I have to tend to the chickens in the morning.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “Just in case. Do you have any deliveries tomorrow morning?”

“I have a few, but they’re close by,” she said.

“Maybe I’d better go with you,” he said.

“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,” she said. “I don’t think they’ll come after me. But I’ll take my shotgun just in case.”

“Take your phone as well,” he said. “Keep a sharp eye out. If you see anything that looks off, you call me immediately.”

“I will, promise,” she said. They slept fitfully for a few hours, then got back up. Beverly made breakfast as Ryan showered and dressed. After they ate, they drove back to her house and tended to the chickens. Beverly gathered the eggs she was set to deliver and her .410 shotgun.

“Can you do me a favor, please?” he asked, pulling a $100 bill out of his pocket.

“Sure,” she said.

“Would you mind stopping at Jerry’s store on your way back and picking up a couple 12-packs? And about 10 cigars?” he asked. Jerry’s was a small country store that catered to the folks in this area.

“Are we having a party?” she asked. He smiled and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “It’s something of a tradition.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Thanks. And remember, call me if you see anything out of the ordinary,” he told her.

“I will, promise,” she said. “I’ll let you know when I’m done and on my way back.” They kissed and he watched as she drove off. He headed back to his place and studied his map. After a while, his phone rang. He looked at the screen and saw it was from an unknown number. He thought about letting it go to voicemail, but decided against it.

“Hello,” he said when he answered.

“Ah, Mr. Caldwell,” said a voice Ryan recognized as belonging to Elmer Jenkins. “Just the man I’m looking for.”

“What do you want, Jenkins?” Ryan asked.

“What I want is for you to get the feds off my ass,” he said.

“I don’t run the FBI,” Ryan said. “And besides, why would I want to do that?”

“Because I just happen to have your daughter and grandson, that’s why,” Elmer said.

“I don’t believe you,” Ryan said, even though he knew otherwise. “Let me talk to them.”

“Okay,” Elmer said. Ryan could hear movement, then Sarah came on the phone.

“Daddy?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked. “What about little Ryan?”

“I’m okay but they’ve drugged Ryan and he’s asleep right now,” she said.

“You hang in there, princess,” he said. “I’ll get you home soon.”

“Not so fast,” Elmer said. “You have 24 hours to get the feds off my back or your beautiful princess here will get mailed back to you in little pieces.”

“You remember what I told you, Jenkins?” Ryan asked. Elmer laughed.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked. “You’re an old, washed-up, one-eyed merc. You’d better make the best case you can to your FBI buddies and you’d better do it fast.”

“Just so you know, Jenkins,” Ryan said. “I always live up to my promises. So I hope pain is something you enjoy, because I’m coming for you.”

“You and what army?” Elmer said, laughing. “Twenty-four hours, old man. Make it happen.” Ryan started to say something but Elmer had already ended the call. He checked his watch and saw it was nearly 11:00 am. He remembered Bill saying the rest of the crew would be there about noon, so he headed upstairs.

He pulled a trunk out of his closet and opened it up. He hadn’t used any of this stuff in about four years, and he wasn’t sure if the old uniforms would even fit him anymore. He pulled out a set of folded desert camouflage and a pair of worn combat boots.

Stripping off his clothes, he donned a black t-shirt and the camouflage trousers. Removing his cowboy boots, he put the combat boots on and laced them up, then bloused the trousers over the boots. He was surprised the old trousers still fit.

He grabbed his web belt and some other gear, then pulled the old desert camouflage hat and jacket out of the trunk. He slammed the lid shut, then headed downstairs. He tossed the jacket and hat on a chair in his downstairs office and inspected his equipment. A few minutes later, his phone rang. He looked, and saw the call was from Beverly.

“Hey,” he said when he answered. “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” she said. “I hope Coors is okay, because that’s what I got. And I got your cigars. So I’m on my way back.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” he said. “And I really appreciate you getting that stuff. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“My pleasure,” she said. “Love you!”

“Love you, too,” he said, ending the call. A few minutes later, she pulled up, so he went out to help her bring everything inside. She looked shocked when she saw him in his camouflage.

“Are you going off to fight a war or something?” she asked.

“Something,” he said as he helped her carry everything in the house. “I made Elmer a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“What promise was that?” she asked.

“I promised him a war he couldn’t believe if he messed with my family,” Ryan said. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to give him.”

“What if you get hurt?” she asked.

“Then I get hurt,” he said. “It happens.”

“No,” she said. “I won’t let that happen. I can’t lose you, too. Not like this.”

“He’s got my daughter and my grandson,” Ryan said. “Besides, I won’t be alone. My team is on the way.”

“You mean, the other mercenaries you used to work with, right?” she asked.

“Some of them, yes,” he said. Just then, they heard the tell-tale sound of a helicopter coming over the house. Ryan looked out back and saw an olive drab Vietnam-era vintage Huey land in the area he normally used as a shooting range.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said, laughing.

“What is it?” Beverly asked, scared. “Is Elmer coming after us or something?”

“Nope,” he said. “That’s the cavalry. Would you mind rustling up some lunch? The boys are gonna be a bit hungry, I think.”

“Sure,” she said. “I can whip up some egg salad sandwiches if that’s okay.”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, giving her a kiss. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed his camo hat and went out to meet his old comrades, who were already getting off the old helicopter.

“Jim, you old dog,” Ryan said as he approached the man piloting the chopper. “How’re doing? Where’d you get this?”

“Been working on it for the last three years or so,” Jim said. “Whaddya think?”

“I’m impressed,” Ryan said. “Does this thing have any bite to it?”

“Does it ever,” Jim said, walking around the front of the craft. Ryan noticed a black emblem on the front – a raised fist with the middle finger extended. Ryan laughed.

“Nice touch,” Ryan said, pointing to the emblem. Jim laughed.

“Matches my mood most of the time,” he said. “Check this out,” he said, opening a side door. He pulled back a tarp to reveal an M134 Minigun. “Think that’ll do the trick?” Jim asked.

“Reckon so,” Ryan said. The M134 is a six-barrel rotary machine gun capable of firing 2,000 to 6,000 rounds of 7.62 mm NATO bullets per minute. Jim had a rig that allowed the gun to be fired from the side door.

“I wanted to get some rockets, but they just weren’t in the budget,” Jim said.

“So, you put this thing together by yourself?” Ryan asked.

“Pretty much,” Jim said. “Took me a while to scrounge all the parts. I had to retool a few things, and the engine took a bit of work. But it’s basically as good as new.”

“How much is this going to set me back?” Ryan asked. Jim shook his head.

“Just cover my fuel, give me a beer or two and we’ll call it even,” Jim said. “We’re comrades. You saved my ass plenty, so I figure I owe you.” Ryan nodded his head and shook Jim’s hand.

“Thank you, old friend,” Ryan said. The four men grabbed their gear and Ryan led them back to the house.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Beverly Simons,” Ryan said as they entered the kitchen. “Beverly, this is Jim Talbot, Ian White, formerly of the SAS, Charles Torres – we call him Buster – and Mark Hammond. We just call him Cap. That’s short for ‘blasting cap’ since he’s so good with explosives.”

“Girl friend?” Cap asked. “I thought you gave up on women.”

“I did, until I met Beverly,” Ryan said. He gave them a quick tour of the place and let them be to set their gear down and use the bathroom.

“So, I’m your girlfriend now?” Beverly asked quietly when he returned to the kitchen.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Ryan said, noticing the smile on her face. “Do you have a problem with that?” She smiled as she shook her head.

“Not at all, sir,” she said, giving him a kiss.

“None of that, now,” Buster bellowed in a good-natured tone as he entered the kitchen, causing them all to laugh. Beverly finished making the sandwiches and sat them on the kitchen counter, then poured each a glass of sweet tea.

“I hope y’all like egg salad and sweet tea,” she said.

“Love egg salad, ma’am,” Cap said as he took a bite out of his sandwich. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“Ryan, you’d better hang on to that woman,” Cap said. “Anyone who can make egg salad this good is a keeper.”

“I intend to,” Ryan said. They spent the next half hour or so eating their sandwiches and catching up. When they finished eating, Ryan spoke again.

“Bill won’t be here for a while, so I might as well bring y’all up to date on the situation,” he said. “When Bill gets here, we’ll go over the plan.” He spent the next hour or so telling them all the story of what had transpired since the day Bob came into his life.

“Bloody hell,” Ian said when Ryan finished.

“I agree,” Ryan told him.

“You screwed up letting Jake live, you know that, don’t you?” Buster asked.

“Perhaps,” Ryan said. “I actually considered killing the bastard, but I thought better of it. If I had, I would probably have ended up in jail.”

“You’re right,” Cap said. “And there would’ve been two witnesses to it.”

“How’d you manage that with just the one eye?” Ian asked.

“Wasn’t easy, but I’ve been working out,” Ryan said.

“So you can function in the field, then?” Ian asked.

“I manage,” Ryan said. They heard a vehicle pull in front of the house. Ryan looked and saw it was a dark SUV. He noticed Agent Smith getting out of the car.

“Hide those weapons,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.” He walked out the door and stood on his porch as Agent Smith walked up to him.

“So, you heard what happened?” Ryan asked.

“I did,” Agent Smith said. “I figured you’d be putting something together.”

“And you thought you’d try to stop me, is that it?” Ryan asked. “I did it your way, and look at what that’s gotten us.”

“You don’t understand, Ryan,” Smith said. “You don’t mind if I call you Ryan, do you?”

“Not at all,” Ryan said.

“Roger Gillespie, one of the agents protecting your daughter, was a good friend of mine,” Smith said. “He was the best man at my wedding and I was his best man. His little boy is my godson.”

“So, what is the bureau doing?” Ryan asked.

“Not a goddamn thing,” Smith said. “It’s all politics. They’re all trying to dig their thumbs out of their collective asses hoping they can save face with the politicos in Washington. Knight Petroleum is very powerful in certain circles. There’s even talk the president might issue a blanket pardon if anyone’s convicted.”

“So, what do you want from me?” Ryan asked.

“I want to join you,” Smith said. “I figured you’re planning something and I want to help.”

“I’m not out to arrest anyone,” Ryan said. “I don’t believe in taking prisoners. You understand that, right?”

“I figured that,” Smith said.

“But can you live with it?” Ryan asked.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, you know,” Smith said. “I spent time in the SEALs before I joined the Bureau. So, to answer your question, yes, I can live with it.”

“Doesn’t sit too well with that badge,” Ryan said.

“Right now, I’m not an agent,” Smith said. “Like you, I want justice.” Ryan regarded him for a moment before answering. It was possible Smith was simply trying to worm his way in only to arrest them all later. But the look on Smith’s face and the fire in his eyes said something different.

“Okay,” Ryan said. “Welcome to the party,” he added, extending a hand. Smith grasped his hand and they shook. Just then, a dark panel van came up the driveway and stopped in front of his house. Ryan looked at his watch – 5:00 pm, on the dot. As he watched, Bob, Jorge and Bill climbed out and made their way to the porch, where Ryan made introductions.

“Ryan, I want to come with you,” Bob said. “I know I haven’t seen a lot of combat like you, but I want to do my part. It’s my family, after all.”

“You have any military training at all, son?” Ryan asked.

“I was in the Army Reserves for four years,” he said. “My unit got deployed to Iraq for about eight months.”

“Reserves,” Ryan said. “What’d you do in Iraq?”

“I spent some time as a door gunner on a helo,” Bob said. “I don’t know if that will be any help to you, though.”

“Door gunner?” Ryan asked. “You ever operate an M134 Minigun?” Bob chuckled.

“Yeah,” Bob said. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually got one of those.” Ryan smiled.

“Today’s your lucky day, son,” he said. “Not only do we have an M134, we also have a Huey to carry it.”

“No shit?” Bob asked.

“No shit, son,” Ryan said. “C’mon inside. We have some planning to do.” Ryan motioned for them to enter the house, and closed the door behind him when they were all inside. After introductions, Ryan sat everyone down and asked Beverly to dole out the beer. After everyone had a beer he stepped forward.

“We got some planning to do, fellas,” he said. “But first, we have a little tradition. Ian, will you do the honors?” Ian stood up and raised his beer.

“‘Ere’s to Dawson, and all the other blokes who never made it back ‘ome,” he said. Everyone raised their beer.

“Dawson,” the veteran mercenaries repeated before taking a long swig from their beers. Beverly, Bob and Smith joined in. When they finished, Smith raised his beer.

“To my friend, Roger Gillespie, who gave his life protecting Sarah and her son,” he said. Everyone raised their beer.

“To Gillespie,” they all said, taking another long drink.

“Normally, we’d break our bottles on the ground,” Ryan said. “But since this is a fairly new carpet, we’ll just have to forego that part of the tradition.” Everyone laughed. “There’s been a slight change in plan. Jim, meet your new door gunner,” he said, putting a hand on Bob’s shoulder.

“You ever fire a minigun?” Jim said. Bob nodded his head.

“I have, in Iraq,” he said.

“Alright, then. When we’re done here, you can join me and we’ll get it mounted up for you, alright?” Jim asked.

“Yeah,” Bob said. Beverly came to Ryan and took him by the arm.

“I want to come, too,” she said. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her, shocked.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t a pleasure trip,” Ryan said. “You could get seriously hurt.”

“But we’re partners,” she said. “Where you go, I go, remember?”

“Ryan’s right, Beverly,” Smith said. “Besides, what would you do?”

“Actually, I could use her help in the comm post,” Bill said. “Have you seen the inside of that thing? Jorge’s got so many damn monitors and things, there’s no way I can watch it all by myself.” Ryan thought it over for a few moments. Bill was a good man, but his prosthetic leg would hinder his movement in the field, and having someone with him to watch the monitors would free up Jorge. He looked at Bill.

“You’ll train her and make sure she has protection, right?” he asked.

“Absolutely, boss,” Bill said. Ryan nodded his head.

“Okay, after we plan the op, you get her out there and start training her,” Ryan said.

“Will do, boss,” Bill said. Ryan looked at Beverly.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said.

“I will, Ryan,” she said. “Thank you for letting me be part of this. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or made you upset.” He took her in his arms and smiled into her face.

“I’m not embarrassed or upset,” he said. “I couldn’t be more proud of you right now. Besides, it’ll give us something to tell the grandkids one day.” She smiled back up at him.

“Really?” she asked. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” he said. “Now, c’mon, let’s go plan this out.” They all went into Ryan’s office where he had the map and the layout of the camp. They spent the next two hours planning out the operation. When they ironed out the plan of attack, Bill handed everyone what looked like a GoPro camera that attached to their body armor and a communication unit with an earbud at the end of a spiral wire. Each unit had a number stenciled on it. Ryan’s was numbered “1.”

“Okay,” Bill said. “Call sign, as always, is Whiskey Delta. Ryan, of course, is Whiskey Delta One. Everyone else’s numbers are on their comm units. We’ll be monitoring your actions in the CP. That’s ‘command post’ for those of you not familiar with the term,” he added, looking at Beverly.

“What does Whiskey Delta mean?” she asked.

“War Dogs,” Jim said. “It’s from the old line, ‘cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war.’ That’s Shakespeare, you know.”

“So, that means Ryan is the number one war dog?” she asked innocently. Everyone else snickered. She looked around, not understanding what was so funny.

“Something like that,” Buster said.

“Alright,” Ryan said. “We leave at 2300, or 11:00 pm. That’ll put us on target at 0130. It’s still light enough out to get everything set up, so let’s go.” Bill and Jorge handed everyone a set of night vision goggles. Bob went with Jim to the helicopter to get the minigun set up and Bill took Beverly to the CP to start her training. Just then, a sheriff’s patrol car pulled up in front of the house.

“Crap,” Ryan said quietly as he watched Sheriff Coltrane get out of his vehicle. Ryan looked at Agent Smith. “I’ll need you to help deal with this,” he said. Smith nodded his head and put on his best official face.

“Sheriff Coltrane,” Ryan said with a smile on his face. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I was driving by and saw all the activity, and that chopper out back and was just curious,” the sheriff said. “You got some kind of a party going on here, or what?” Agent Smith pulled out his credentials and showed them to the sheriff.

“Special Agent Smith, FBI,” he said, identifying himself. “Are you THE Sheriff Coltrane?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am,” the sheriff said, puffing himself up.

“I’ve heard good things about you, sheriff,” Smith said.

“I’m happy to oblige the FBI whenever I can,” the sheriff said.

“Good,” Smith said with a smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Listen, Mr. Caldwell is helping us with a very special operation and I’d consider it a personal favor if you could help us out.”

“What can I do?” the sheriff asked.

“We’ll be leaving here about 1100 hours, and I’d appreciate it if you could clear the road for us, say, from here to the state line. Can you do that, sheriff?” he asked.

“Of course, I can,” Sheriff Coltrane said. “Is this one of them black operations?”