Chapter 6

The contractor drove up as Jeff was finishing his walkdown just after daylight. Eyeing the big trailer with the tractor sitting on it, Jeff waited until Dave had gotten out of the vehicle. "That rig is pretty long. Did you have any trouble with the driveway?"

Dave propped his foot on the bumper to retie the laces on one of his work-boots. "There was one curve where I had to back up and do a bit of jigging, but it wasn't bad. I've done it before. I went ahead and used the smaller of my dump trucks to pull the tractor trailer. I pull it a lot of the time with my big pickup, but not up that driveway. Hell, I've been up it a thousand times I guess, while we were building the convention center, but I still respect it. One mistake and you're toast, so I chose a truck I knew would easily handle the tractor and trailer on a steep slope."

"I don't blame you. Hey, I'll bet the driveway cut down on the sightseers while you were building the place," Jeff said, grinning as he checked out the posthole digger attached to the tractor.

Laces tied, Dave paused for a second. "I never really thought about that. But now that you mention it, we didn't have as many rubberneckers as we usually have, particularly with the job taking as long as this one did."

Dave turned back for the cab. "Hop in Mr. Matthews, you can ride out with me and show me exactly where you want the holes for the target frames." As Jeff got in the truck with Dave, the contractor continued, "I got my welder to do a little work yesterday. I hope you don't mind, but even though you're in a hurry for the range, I've made some changes. I got a friend of mine to let me check out the county range setup. They use a turning system that consists of a welded frame that looks like a 'T, ' with the holes for your two by two's on the ends of the wings of the 'T.' The center spike of the 'T' fits into the concrete, and it's a simple process to add a turning mechanism later on.

"Your wooden target frames just drop into the holes at the end of the wings just like you had originally suggested they do in the concrete. We made up ten stations. Heck, now we only have to drill ten holes instead of twenty. I hope you don't mind the changes. The range will be much better when we're done."

Jeff looked at Dave with new respect. "Actually, that's the way the outdoor range was set up in Georgia. I was just trying to make a 'get by' sort of thing, thinking that we would never need a turning target."

(Note to reader: This is a system where the targets are turned parallel to the shooters — edgeways. Instead of the command to fire, the targets all turn square to the shooters at the same time, initiating the beginning of the firing sequence. When time is up, the targets then snap back edgeways, signaling the end of firing.)

When they got to the designated area, they got out of the truck. As the contractor fished out some stakes, cord, and a flat-headed hammer, Jeff said, "Since you're improving on my sloppy design, we might as well put in the system of turning targets. Of course that doesn't have to be done now, but it will probably be nice in the weeks to come when we start working on combat shooting."

"Just about there for the first one," Jeff said, pointing.

Dave drove in the first stake and attached the cord. "Straight out this way?" he asked, feeding out the string as he walked away.

"Yeah, that looks good. Just make it so the targets face in the general direction of the house. That way we'll be shooting directly away from the house, which should cut down on the sound some. As far away as we are, we shouldn't even be able to hear it inside."

"We're almost level here," Dave said. "It won't take a lot to shoot a level and smooth it off with the tractor." After driving in the stake, he turned to Jeff. "I thought you might want some turning targets sooner or later, so I took the liberty of getting the name of the equipment company the county uses. We can get them to send us a catalogue so you can pick out what you want. They also offer a sort of trolley system that pulls a target across the range."

"Shooting at a moving target will add a lot to the training," Jeff agreed. "But first, I've got to teach two of them to shoot, period. Melissa and Jennie had never picked up a gun before this started, and they're both scared to death of them. Once they get use to shooting, they will probably get a kick out of shooting at a moving target. Diana is an excellent shot, and has even shot a little competition. Arlene and Laura have shot a good bit, as well, and Ann has, to a lesser degree. Doctor Boswell has shot a rifle, and hunted, but very little with a handgun. I'll call and get the catalogue. Once everyone is shooting competently, moving targets will spice up the training."

Dave fished out a scrap of paper with a name and phone number on it and handed it to Jeff.

"I appreciate your taking the time, particularly your off time, to get this set up right. The range I shot at in Georgia had turning targets. I was just going to do something quick. I'm so damn worried about this guy that I told you about, that I guess I'm trying to push things too much."

The contractor was kneeling, his hammer raised to drive in a stake. He stopped and looked up at Jeff. "I told my guys about this shithead, and you can bet they will be on the lookout for him. You and your family have been both good to us and very generous, as well. Do you think you could get us a picture of these two? Hell, we'll post it on the wall at the shop. I'll make photocopies and plaster their pictures on all my job sites. If he comes around any of my people, they'll let me know in a heartbeat."

"How many job sites do you have?" Jeff asked as they walked back toward the truck.

"I've got eight right now. None of them are very big." Knowing what Jeff was probably thinking, Dave added, "I've downsized considerably since we built the conference center, and even then, I subcontracted the bigger steel work to an outfit that had the necessary equipment."

Dave yelled and waved to two of his crew that had just pulled up behind the house. When he had their attention, he motioned for them to come to where he was standing.

"I'm going to get out of here and let you get your men started. When you can spare a few minutes, come to the kitchen. Diana said that she and the girls were going to bake homemade doughnuts this morning just after breakfast, and you and I need to talk."

Dave glanced at his watch. It's six twenty now. "It will take two or three hours before I can break for any length of time. Then I'll be there. Doughnuts sound great."

Jeff agreed, and walked back toward the house, greeting the two workers as they passed him. At the kitchen, he pushed the door instead of banging it open. Helen looked up from her paperwork and grinned at him. "Don't tell me you are going to stop slapping that door open. I was just beginning to get use to it," she teased.

"Have you got the coffee made, Teacher?" he laughed.

"Most definitely, Mr. Alpha Male."

Jeff got a cup, filled it, and mock-glared at her. She just smiled sweetly. Sitting down at the other end of the table, so, hopefully, the smell of his sweat wouldn't be too noticeable, he asked, "What's with the paperwork?"

Doctor Boswell made a show of sniffing the air. "Had a hard run, huh?" she asked, grinning. Both of them broke out laughing.

"Alright, alright," Jeff choked out, "you've gigged me enough this early in the morning. How did the girls do on the test yesterday afternoon?" he asked, although the girls had already told him they had aced the test.

Helen put her papers down, took a sip of coffee, then still holding the cup with both hands in front of her, she glanced at Jeff. "Better than any students I've ever had in my whole career. I don't want to push them so much that they become discouraged, though. What I've decided to do is give them books on a subject, let them study them for a week or two, then when they say they are ready, test them. If all goes the way I think it will, a couple of months from now — or less — we'll have four girls in college. I think, I know, that Arlene and Ann could do it quicker than that, but the firearms training will slow us down considerably." As Jeff started to say something, she set her cup down and waved her hand in a negative gesture to him. "That wasn't a derogatory comment. Just a statement of fact. And believe me, if the sergeant thinks that idiot is coming after us, I'm more than willing to spend some time learning to shoot a handgun."

A little after nine, the contractor knocked on the kitchen door. A chorus of "come in" greeted him.

Jeff motioned him to sit with him at the big kitchen table. Arlene had a cup of coffee in front of him by the time he had settled into his chair.

Diana finished pouring glaze on six doughnuts resting on a wire rack she had put them on after taking them out of the deep fryer. She slid them onto a platter and set them in front of Dave. "Looks like your timing is good, Dave. Dig in while they're hot."

Dave knew damn well that it was her timing, not his, that was good. He would bet that she pulled those doughnuts out of the grease when she saw him walking toward the house on the security camera. These people are class. Hell, I'm even beginning to like their Georgia accents. It's not a southern drawl like in the movies, but there is just a hint there that makes it nice to listen to them talk, particularly the women.

The contractor tried never to stare at the women, at least to not get caught doing it, and he harped at his men, "Watch your eyes. If they speak to you, don't talk to their tits," he repeatedly told them. But it was hard to keep his own eyes from drifting as Diana's leaned over and put the doughnuts in front of him.

"Thank you Ma'am," he said with a nod.

"Oh, so formal," Diana teased, as she grinned and walked away.

Dave took a doughnut and shoved the platter toward Jeff, who for some reason, chuckled. Within a couple of minutes, Diana set a fresh platter in front of Jeff, and moved the original platter back in front of Dave, restocked. Now Dave knew why Jeff had laughed. He knew that Diana meant for each of them to have a platter full. Shit I can't eat six of these things. Particularly, as big as they are. Hell, they're delicious, but if I fill up now, I'll want to take a nap instead of going back to work.

Dave finished the first doughnut and took a sip of coffee just as Ann put a big glass of ice-cold milk beside him — the glass itself was frosted and so cold that he knew it had been in the freezer until she poured the milk into it. Smiling at him, she said, "Sometime milk goes really good with fresh doughnuts. Helen set a glass in front of Jeff at the same time."

Dave smiled back at her. "You people are going to kill me. But I'm going to die happy."

"Eat up," Jeff said, "you can handle a few extra pounds."

Shortly, there were two more platters of doughnuts on the table and all the women sat down with them, including Doctor Boswell.

"Okay," Jeff said. "Family meeting. And Helen, I'm glad we didn't have to twist your arm to get you to stay this time."

Boswell tipped her coffee cup at him, smiling, but didn't say anything.

Dave looked perplexed. What am I doing at their family meeting?

Answering Dave's unspoken question, Jeff said, "And yes, it involves you Dave." Glancing around the table, he began, "Diana and I have briefly discussed some aspects of this, but not in any detail. And Dave, so you will understand, we decide, at least the main things concerning our household, in our family meetings. Sometimes, they are rather informal. We had one to decide whether we wanted Doctor Boswell," he continued, grinning at Helen. It took only a glance around the room, eye contact and a slight nod. One hundred percent in ten seconds. If it hadn't been one hundred percent, she wouldn't be here."

Jeff winked at her and she smiled back at him. "Now to today's agenda." Jeff paused, took a sip of coffee, then glanced around the table, his eyes coming to rest on Dave. "I going to mention some things about our family today that must remain in this room. You have earned our respect and trust, just as you did Frank Wainwright's. Obviously he was the one that recommended you to me in the beginning."

The contractor glanced at the women, then back to Jeff, wondering what was coming next.

Jeff continued, "We appreciate the excellent quality of your work. I've checked this house, the wiring, plumbing, foundations (what I can see of them), the wind generators, the solar setup on the roof, the backup systems, hell, everything. Not to mention the lab you built, or the changes in our suite. And everything is top notch. Nothing was skimped, nothing shoddy. Recently, I had a long talk with Frank, and one of the vice presidents that were in charge of getting the convention center built. They both said, that even though you did, indeed, subcontract some of the big work, you had your hand in everything. They also related a couple of instances where you refused the subs work, made them tear it down and do it right. Frank said he doubled your bonus when the job was done because of the combination of things I just mentioned."

Jennie realized that Dave's cup was empty. Quietly, she got up and refilled it, topping Jeff's off as well.

Jeff smiled his thanks at her. "We came into a lot of money a couple of months ago when I sold some of my patents to an invention. I also had a bit of luck with investments, thanks to a genus I hired to manage part of our money. We could just let the money sit. We could blow it on useless things just so everyone would know we're rich. But Laura, Diana and I have had to work very hard from the time we were in our teens. Our girls haven't had it very easy, either. We're basically use to not having a lot, but now we can have practically anything we want. None of us want a fleet of half million dollar cars, and we don't use drugs. So what do we spend our money on?

"You're an intelligent person Dave, and you've been around us a lot lately. We're not your average family under any description I can think of. I'm sure you had suspicions before, but after remodeling that suite with multiple stalls in the bathroom, and multiple vanity sinks, you would have to be rather more than dense to not know what is going on. Bluntly, these are my women, and I'm their man. I am responsible for them. This thing with Hagewood has just emphasized other things that I have been thinking about. Our country is in turmoil, hell, the world is in turmoil. Some idiot could drive a van across the border from Mexico any day with a nuclear device in it. Some penny ante dictator could release a virus that would kill half the population of the world. Anyone that thinks Homeland Security is doing anything constructive to stop things like that... well, I hope they're right. But I think it's a big hope.

"Like I said, Diana and I have talked a little about what we could do to keep our family safe, both from the Hagewood threat, and a nuclear or catastrophic event of some other nature. I.e., a safe area well underground with supplies to last for an extended period of time. This would be a big enough project, not to mention the ones you already have on the drawing board, to occupy you exclusively for the next couple of years. I want — we want, quality, and a level-headedness that you have already exemplified."

"You're talking about an underground safe room?"

"No. I'm talking about an underground fortress, if you will, with a large area, many rooms, and everything that we would need to withstand a nuclear or viral/bacterial holocaust. Oh, I don't mean a direct hit, but I do mean that if Denver and a dozen other cities in the US were hit, that we could survive."

Dave sat his coffee cup down. "Shit Jeff. I don't know. I've never done anything like that before. It would call for a lot of specialty equipment, heck, I don't even know enough about it to know what I don't know," he laughed. You probably need some really big construction outfit..."

"No," Jeff cut him off. "You do."

"What... ?"

"I want you to boss it. Hire the companies you need — run the thing. My family and I will rough out the basic design, then we'll find an architect and let him hire the structural engineer, or whomever he needs to complete the design. Plus we want your practical input for every step of the process. When the design is done, you build it."

"Shit," Dave whispered, not noticing either slip in front of the women.

The girls looked at each other, their eyes big. Everyone started talking at the same time. Jeff picked up another doughnut, sat back and leisurely took a bite. Diana looked at her husband, and slow-winked. "I think you got their attention, Husband."

Dave took a sip of coffee. Jeff noted that the contractor's hand wasn't quite as steady as it had been.

For a few seconds, there was quiet. Dave cleared his throat and glanced back at Jeff. As he started to say something, Jeff spoke up. "Dave, I want to hire you for the duration. You can still use your company to do any of the work here that you want to, and hire other outfits to do the rest. You can hire all the people, professional and otherwise, that you think you need. We will start an account with your name on it, and put enough money in it so you'll know we're serious. The salary will be substantial, and again, when you're done, you will still have your company.

"All in favor of Dave supervising the building of our fortress, raise your hands."

Stunned, Dave watched everyone immediately raise their hand. Diana slid her chair back and walked around the table, stopping beside Dave. "Stand, please," she simply said.

When he scrambled to his feet, she hugged him. All the other women quickly followed suit. "Well, that makes it official," Jeff laughed. "Now, all you have to do is say yes."

Dave sat back down, and the women went back to the other side of the kitchen to continue their doughnut production line. "Jeff, I've got to think about this. And talk to my wife. She's at least half the reason I'm where I am today. She's my partner, and my best friend. She needs to be involved in this..."