Chapter 12

"Sweet is revenge--especially to women" - Lord Byron

For reasons that I could entirely appreciate and fully understand, Pete had not been crazy about the idea of using his lovely and rather private family beach house as our planned staged location to fend off a not-so surprise attack by one or two dozen paid mercenary killers. I didn't blame him, I wouldn't normally want bullet holes, not to mention various high explosives going off in my house either! He was frankly quite delighted that his uncle was now gone and he was enjoying the prospect of eventually being rid of us and having the place all to himself. But for the moment we, or perhaps just I, was still of interest to him and Pete was still interested in becoming part of our little adventure.

We'd all spent the better part of the previous day scouting out the local area looking for a place to stage our counter-ambush that was both suitable and yet reasonably private. Automatic weapons fire and explosives do tend to attract the attention of local law enforcement. Pete knew of a couple of abandoned or empty houses nearby but none of them quite fit the bill. They either looked a little too nice for us to be happy about wantonly destroying or else there were neighbor issues.

Collateral damage is bad! Plus we were already quite a bit too far north of Miami already and this made for a not insignificant drive for Norman and his shooters to make on short notice to come after us. For time efficiency, if nothing else, it would be best that our ambushers had to make the shortest possible drive. This would give them confidence that I'd still be there at my hideout and the short trip would give them less concern about the possible risk that they'd been set up themselves. A long two to three hour drive north might give them rather too much time to think and plan, and possibly give them cold feet.

If necessary, I could have lived with doing the idea of doing the swap as planned at the mall food court, but it was certain to get violently ugly. There would be too many witnesses and possible attention from law enforcement, not to mention more video cameras. No ... we had to make sure that Norman would leap at our bait and come charging in at the soonest possible time to bushwhack me and seize the documents. At most, he'd delay to perhaps gain some cover of darkness before assaulting us, but I didn't think he would. It was summer and sunset would be relatively late in the evening, enough so that waiting for it would conflict with our proposed swap meet time at the food court. Not that he had the slightest intention of actually making that meeting.

Actually the more I thought about it the more certain I was that he'd tactically plan his attack to coincide with my scheduled 6 p.m. return phone call. This way he could be 100% certain that I and the phone would be exactly where he thought we were, probably alone and certainly trapped. He'd want to make sure that I was still physically there, making the call to him just as he sent in his goon squads to collect me.

Having done the planning for some of Norman's more conventional military operations overseas, I was 98% sure that I'd know exactly how he'd would try to pull off this operation. Accordingly, I really wanted to find just the right sort of place so that I could pretty much count on him doing things by routine ... and thus become nearly perfectly predictable. If you know exactly what your enemy is going to do, sometimes being badly outnumbered isn't always a bad thing.

So, with all of this in mind we'd wasted about half of the day driving up and down Hwy 1A and then checked around the west side of Biscayne Bay and came up with nothing even vaguely suitable. It's all hyper-expensive real estate that's been totally over-built and even the odd empty house that had sat around unrepaired since the last hurricane or so had neighbors, and usually plenty of them. Usually with nice big picture windows to look out from! I even started to think about using the semi-abandoned house at the path to Wally-Boy's private shack next to the Glades, but that too was a bit too far away and in the wrong direction, south.

Running out of ideas and good afternoon light, we just gave up the coastal plan and instead looked over a good Florida map and tried to find blank spots to the west of North Miami that suggested that this might be a somewhat more remote rural area. The Foole pointed a finger semi-randomly at an area west of Hwy-27 and by dinner time that evening we found just the right sort of place on a mostly private road surrounding a small lake. From the looks of the subdivision, it catered to rich northern snowbirds, most of which would still be up north this time of year, and the lakefront lot sizes were huge. There were lots of trees in-between the property lots providing screening cover between the houses, and better still the semi-abandoned looking property we selected was already in the early stages of being comprehensively re-landscaped, with about half of the ground cover including small trees and brush already having been bulldozed. This provided us with the perfectly odd combination of having lots of wide open shooting zones and various mounds of earth, brush, cut timber and even a few ditches suitable for targeting with explosives. A very evil thinking person could turn this innocent appearing landscape and turn it into a charnel field ... someone like me, or even worse – The Foole!

The fairly large two story house itself fronted onto the small lake giving us what we had ideally hoped for, a building that could only be reasonably approached from just three sides. Also with just a main front door and a side access to a covered deck by the lakefront, this would limit significantly the paths that Norman's shooters would be able to take. The building looked rather weather-damaged and none too recently, suggesting that this had been an inactive retirement property that hadn't been repaired or renovated in at least five years. A couple of broken windows and, a few missing roof tiles and bits of wall siding all added to the general aura of decay and neglect. Undoubtedly the owners had insurance, but from the looks of all the earth moving and construction equipment, I'd guess that the house was going to be demolished and replaced anyway. We finally spotted a For Sale sign that had fallen over some time ago and was more than a bit weather faded, suggesting that nothing much exciting was happening around here lately.

No loss then if we gave them a helping hand. Ha!

A large bulldozer and a couple of smaller earthmovers remained on the partially cleared grounds but nothing suggested that these work crews would be returning anytime at all soon. Windblown dust on the driver's seats suggested that the workers hadn't been present for at least a couple of weeks and were not likely to interfere with our plans right away either. All three earthmovers were parked off to the side of the property and wouldn't interfere in our plans in any way, being a bit too far off from the house to provide our attackers with anymore more than just incidental and very temporary cover as they moved closer towards the house.

Really, the site couldn't have been more perfect, especially with the very incomplete landscaping had created several ditches and mounds of dried out trees, brush and dirt more than suitable for providing cover to an assaulting force! Frankly, I couldn't have created any better hiding places myself given a week of advance preparation time! Also it was easy and relatively fast to get here from Miami and if Norman was anywhere nearby there, as we assumed, then he could assemble his shooters and be nearby ready to assault us with in about an hour for certain, perhaps even less.

This particular lot of property made up about an eighth of the total of the subdivision surrounding the small lake, if that's quite the right word for it. There were about a half dozen other neighbors sharing this one main circular road around the lake, along with two feeder roads that connected to county roads to the east and west. This would extremely limit the route by which Norman could access this semi-rural and rather private retirement community, and our eyes could stay rather focused on just the two county road entrances. Of the eight houses we only noted that two of them currently had cars parked in their driveways, and only those two houses had interior lights come on that evening, confirming our suspicions that most of the owners were not home – nor likely to be when things started to get interesting tomorrow.

I walked around the property a couple of times with a smile, already lost in my mental calculations and evaluations of how I would sneak onto the property and exactly how I would send my own teams of shooters to capture my target. Norman wasn't terribly original and after his first glance of the terrain layout he'd do it straight by the textbook, or so I hoped ... after all, it was probably still the same playbook for field operations that I'd revised and updated a few years ago. I knew that playbook in my sleep ... and just how to counter it!

I just nodded to the Foole and he smiled and then pulled out his cell phone to make a few calls. He had some of his supporting cast and crew of hirelings standing by in Miami and by this time tomorrow we would be ready to face Norman and his security force on our own terms! It would be a long night getting ready, but as they say ... proper planning does prevent piss poor performance!

"Hello Norman," I calmly stated, "I've heard through the grapevine that you might be entertaining a casual acquaintance of mine." It was right at the dot of noon the next day and I was tired but quite satisfied with our advance preparations for this phone call. I didn't want to sound too excited or seem over-anxious and I just wanted to keep things reasonably polite and upbeat enough to suggest that I didn't have the slightest concern or trepidation in the world about the safety of calling him on the old company satellite phone. I'd need a couple of minutes at the very least to say everything that needed saying, which hopefully would be enough for Blackwell's tech boys to do their job and trace me to within a few hundred yards or so.

"I'd heard that Miss Lee was just a bit more than just a casual acquaintance," he laughed. "I had so wanted to catch up with you to discuss old times that I thought meeting a good friend of yours might help me to fill-in some of the pieces of your more recent life. She's quite safe and sound ... for now."

"Let me talk to her then. Now ... before we start discussing alternatives to the rather messy sort of goodbye party you're considering for our old school reunion."

"I'm afraid she's not with me at the moment," he snickered. "She's off staying with another acquaintance for awhile as part of a good-faith payment to the folks holding the expense account bills. But we can arrange for a meeting of all of the particulars." I could just imagine the sneer that was surely on his face, the rather sort-of crooked smile that Norman tended to display whenever he was concocting something particularly nasty. He was most definitely up to something sneaky and underhanded ... I could read it in his voice with every word he said.

"That's rather unfortunate, because contrary to your faulty intel, Miss Lee isn't much more than a sometimes business associate of mine and I'm not too sentimentally attached to her, or any of her miscellaneous body parts, so it's a complete waste of your time and emotional energy to starting snipping off and mailing me an assortment of her fingers and toes. On the other hand, I've got something new that you will sort of want and that your employer will undoubtedly much prefer to have other than my polished skull as a fireplace mantel decoration. Kedra's just a little token for you to move about the game board, and a pretty minor one at that. I've got a much bigger one to play ... and it doesn't involve any more operators getting hurt. Let's deal!"

"You're bluffing. I don't think you've got any piece to play, big or small, that would deter our employer from collecting their main objective, but we can reasonably discuss this ... once you've turned yourself over to us in return for us releasing Miss Lee."

"I don't think that solution is terribly practical!" I laughed. "Frankly that sort of resolution would make both myself and your hostage rather immediately expendable. No, we need to have a suitable sort of face-to-face discussion since I really do have something to trade that is of significantly greater value than your hostage."

"I'm afraid I'm going to need something a bit firmer and substantive than just your word on this matter. You're clearly just stalling for time."

"Alright then, here's enough of a primer to demonstrate some good faith on my part. An appetizer of sorts, but I can back my claims with hard paper ... paper that your employer is going to want very badly ... much more than my head on a spear. Interested enough to at least listen?"

"In principle, but I'd have to confirm any changes to existing plans with the principals, of course. Go ahead, make my day." Yes ... his tone had changed just slightly, enough so that I could tell behind his casual words that he was indeed very interested in anything that could be a dramatic game-changer. Something that he could use to squeeze out even more bonus money or even obtain an additional payday. Trouble always means opportunity in Norman's line of work and the bastard was never one to let any opportunity for a fortune escape.

"Alright then. Here's the overview, and remember this is just an appetizer ... I've got bigger and better goodies to offer once Kedra is released and the goon squads are gone from my life ... permanently! Here's just a tidbit - shortly after some local hard guys tried to take out Captain Baker at his home with a fire bomb the other day, they ran into me instead. They'd cleaned out his house safe before they blew the place and I cleaned them of the goodies ... some insurance files that he'd stashed away in case the Watters ever decided to do without his professional paid services. A situation much like now, wouldn't you agree? Is this whetting your appetite?"

"I like the basic principle, but I'd need some specific details. I'd assume that common police files would be of rather little interest or value to my employers."

"Naturally, but just for amusement value, let's just say that these rather particular files contain a good many rather significant and specific names, some dates and places, and listed certain felonies that were performed under specific Watters' orders, by himself or by others. Quite a few rather high profile names in local or state law enforcement are noted, not to mention numerous politicians ... several of rather significant political stature actually. Not to mention a current Senator and a former Governor that both have presidential aspirations! Your employers will of course be familiar with all of these names but will not, under any circumstances, want these documents falling into the wrong hands ... such as the local FBI field office in Miami, or worse Washington."

"No, they probably wouldn't." Norman agreed.

"Now, anyone could just throw darts at likely targets and compile any semi-random list of names, so in a one-time gesture of good faith, I'm going to present you on a silver platter just one name and one relevant bit of intel that your employer should already know ... probably ... or at least has the means to confirm quickly and accurately by other channels. In particular, according a document in Baker's files, a certain Elaine Cornet is the office manager at the local FBI field office, and she is also a long-time Watters employee, feeding him regular information about current local federal investigations. Most recently she has heard reliable and substantiated information that an Interpol taskforce will be arriving in Miami shortly to conduct an enquiry into certain stolen art objects from European galleries that Watters is alleged to have secreted at his Coral Gables estate. Furthermore, an unannounced raid of these armed Interpol agents with federal FBI assistance on that property is expected within about 72 hours and certainly no later than next Saturday."

"That is a very specific claim." Norman commented.

"These are some very specific documents." I replied with a smile. I was pretty sure that I had Norman on the hook now. Oh, he'd still stick with his Plan A and grab me the first moment that he could, but he'd try and take me alive now. I could tell in his voice that he wanted those documents, and the very real bargaining chip they would be for augmenting his payday, in addition to cashing in my head. His greed was going to work right into our plan. Sometimes it doesn't matter how smart you are – if you're predictable, then you can be led around like a bull with a ring in its nose!

"I assume then a private meeting at a very public place would definitely be in order then ... to just talk? Once your extraordinary claims have been confirmed, of course."

"Of course. In principle then, a meeting this evening at the Northline Mall food court in North Miami at 8:30 PM? It should be fairly quiet, hardly any customers but perhaps a bored mall cop or two and a couple of dozen pimply teenaged fast food workers to make decent but unobtrusive witnesses. Bring Kedra ... and no shooters. Just one bodyguard with you only. I want to see her first and after you release her to me I'll then leave the files on a central table and our business will be done with no 'unpleasantness'. That's the deal – Watters gets the files ... all of them, you get a fat payday and probably a long term retainer, Kedra gets released unharmed, and I get to walk away and I'll promise to mind my own business. Y'all just leave me alone and I'll do the same ... détente once again across the board. Are we agreed?"

"In principle. You can call me at 6 p.m. this evening and I should have by then a confirmation. If the principle is willing, this trade will adequately substitute and financially compensate me for the less pleasant, prior business arrangement. Until this evening then!"

Norman hung up, meaning that he'd had more than enough time to accurately track me down. His voice was back to being the same normal 'smug' tone that he used when applying the screws to someone and I could tell within about 99% accuracy that I'd be seeing Norman and his collection of shooters long before our arranged appointment time this evening. There wasn't a chance in seven hells that he was going to waste the opportunity now to ambush me first, as long as he had a reasonable expectation of capturing Captain Baker's files in the process. To be safe he'd need me alive, to talk, assuming I'd been clever and hidden the documents someplace just out of his immediate reach.

By naming the actual local FBI traitor on the Watters payroll and a rather fictional report of the Interpol team interested in re-acquiring some of their stolen artwork, I'd provided a backdoor confirmation to some previous deliberate misinformation that the Foole's Washington friend had already provided via official channels to the local FBI field office yesterday. This bogus 'official' report did claim that Interpol agents would be heading to Miami from Washington later this week with a signed Federal search warrant to search the Watters mansion for certain stolen artworks. Obviously not true, of course ... but it did look very authentic, especially when transmitted via official FBI channels right into the hands of Watters' operative at the local Miami field office.