Chapter 7

Fortunately, the RV turned out to be easy to drive if we constantly kept in mind its tremendous length. I wondered at the significance of Alice having the least trouble in backing up the monster. There was a fenced parking lot within two blocks of the condo where we could park our RV, but it sure was expensive.

Other than the heated conversations about what we were doing with such a large RV, we really had no trouble. The RMV had gotten smart and had a driving simulator for the road test with vehicles this big. All they had to do was to dial in the dimensions of the vehicle, and the simulator did whatever was necessary to test the driver. We all passed the test and had our licenses endorsed to the new class of license. We paid our fees and left with valid temporary licenses. The permanent ones would be delivered in the mail in a few days.

We made a short trip in the new RV out to Western Massachusetts on Rt. 2 to get used to driving the monster. We had no problems, but we did get some stares as we drove along. This RV is just too big to be considered inconspicuous! We decided that, under the circumstances of such a conspicuous vehicle that we should wait until our permanent licenses arrived before we drove it to DC.

In the meantime, we got permits for Doug and Pete to carry a gun and rented enough time on a range for them to become familiar with the GSh-18 pistol. We all practiced for a while with standard 9mm cartridges so that we would not attract any more attention than we had to. It took a week for the licenses to come through, so we had plenty of time to do everything necessary to get ready for our trip.

I had a hunch that we might run into trouble, so we three men started letting our whiskers grow, and Alice got a blonde wig. She was a natural brunette, so it was a "logical" change for her. Actually, I preferred her as a brunette, but this was no time to quibble.

One of the things we needed to do as soon as possible was to get our gold converted to cash and moved out of the country. Doug knew of a computer wizard whom we might recruit, so we figured to work on her when we got back from DC. I had visions of doing something I had read in a story: using a computer to steal money from crooks and transfer it to our accounts so that we could fight crooks.

We loaded up the RV and hooked the car on the back. We headed for DC with plans to drive straight through. With the sleeping facilities on the RV and four of us with licenses, we should have no trouble making the full trip within 24 hours. We followed the Interstate routes and had no trouble until we hit NYC at the beginning of rush hour. We got through, but I was glad that Alice was the one driving during this time: she was our best driver, and all of us knew it. The tunnel tolerances were tough, but the bus had been built with them in mind, so we did manage to get through without scraping paint.

We pulled into DC very early in the morning, so our first job was to find a place where we could park. Luckily for us, there are a lot of RV parks around DC, and we found a place large enough to handle our length. I paid the fees to get us hooked up, and we sacked out for four hours before we started any serious business for the day.

We woke up and fixed breakfast, well, Alice did. After we cleaned up from breakfast, we disconnected the car and drove to take a look at the building we planned to hit. We found the warehouse, and it was of average size. From what I could find out, the whole warehouse was rented by one company, and that meant that we did not have to worry about innocents being involved. That was a major convenience, and we planned to make a mess of the whole thing.

The warehouse was conventional in size and shape, and it had several doors for people as well as the doors at the loading docks. The warehouse was one story with a ceiling clearance of 14 feet. That could handle anything that the terrorists could want to store there, and it seemed ideal for their purpose.

Okay, we had the information that we could glean without attracting too much attention, so Alice drove us around so that we could see the usual tourist attractions. We were lucky and found a place to park near the Washington Monument, and we walked or rode the trolly to see the other places on our visiting list. Man, Washington is an impressive place, and we enjoyed our break from reality.

That evening, we went to a recommended Italian restaurant and tried not to stuff ourselves too heavily. In plenty of time, we headed back to the RV park to get ready for our evening excursion of destruction. We were armed with our Russian automatics and plenty of ammunition. So far we had been lucky, but we had to be prepared for a gun battle. At least we could, now that we had more people on our side.

As usual, I picked a lock and we entered the building. Hot Damn! We ran into a hornets' nest! There were eight men in the warehouse, all armed with AK-47s. There must have been a silent alarm on the door, because they were waiting for us.

They waited until all four of us were inside and the door was closed before they started shooting. Thank God that we were wearing our body armor! All of us were hit in the chest, and all of us were knocked down by the bullets striking our vests. I did not need to worry about the two combat-experienced Marine-types, and I was reasonably used to being shot at, but I was highly concerned by Alice. Well, that woman had more survival sense than average, because she lay on the floor and oozed her way behind a barrier.

All of us made it to shipping crates to use as crude barricades against the AK-47 bullets that were whizzing everywhere. Suddenly, there was a shout in a language I did not understand, and a long spiel was issued in the same language. It was soon obvious that there had been a warning issued about being more careful where the bullets went. That may have been a warning not to damage the contents of the crates or it may have been a warning not to shoot at crates containing explosives or fuses. That was not important to me as such, but I would like to know which ones they were afraid to shoot at so that I could hide behind them!

Needless to say, we were shooting back probably a bit more carelessly than we should, but all we had to worry about was running out of ammunition. That was not likely to happen very soon, but it could eventually become a problem. I seemed to be in the best position to flank the other guys, so I started looking for the best way to do that. Pete was at the far end of our skirmish line so I yelled, "PETE, CREATE A DIVERSION!"

Pete didn't bother to answer me directly. Instead, he started pumping bullets at the other side, and they all began shooting back at him. I figured that was the best diversion I could get, so I bent low and ran as fast as I could to the next crate on my right. I made it without drawing fire, and that told me that we were dealing with a bunch of amateurs. Pete was still doing his thing, so I dashed to the next crate. Still no reaction against me, so I ran to the third crate.

This put me far enough around that I was able to follow a line of crates to get behind the terrorists. Once there, I was able to see the backs of five of the eight men. I paused long enough to swap magazines before taking aim at the nearest enemy. I popped him in the back with my first shot, and he screamed in pain.

I was able to fire at two more men before they realized where I was. Those two I also put down, but I had to use five shots to do it. I hate the pissy stopping power of the 9mm bullet! The two remaining men whom I could see were now firing their AK-47s at me with no regard as to where the bullets were going. This spray and pray technique was enough to make me keep my head down, but I was not really worried about being hit.