Section 30

Those three soon left the others to plot and plan whatever they were planning and plotting.

“Everything you’ve been saying makes perfect sense but nowhere but here feels right. It just isn’t complete yet.” Belle admitted. “I always had a sort empty place until the Guard posted me to Rodanthe. That felt right and the empty spot got smaller. Now, it is even smaller, but replaced with a little fear that something will trigger events and I’ll miss the signs.”

“Hang with us for a few days. Phil has this way of knowing things he has no reason to know. He’ll tell you what you decided when you need to know.” Emily smiled and said. “We’ll tell you about ‘gravity’ later. Do you play an instrument?”

“Mandolin and fiddle. Why?”

“Just checking.” The other girls, like Emily, were thinking Belle Barton was home already. Now, she and Phil had to realize it.

Marcie, Traci and Phil found Nicole and Nick telling war stories with several of their security teammates. “Nick, how is Lisa doing?” He asked first. “It’s been three days already. Much improvement?”

“She wants out. Your Mother Bear Claire is making her crazy at Piedmont. Lisa is bacteria free, the wounds are healing fast and the check-ups on her old knee replacement went well.” Nicole laughed. “Now the fun starts.”

“You got that right, sister. She’s been lobbying Adam, Donald, your Dad and anyone she can find to get her a new Blackhawk. Not a problem. We need a replacement.” Nick shook his head, chuckling, “But she wants souped-up Hellfires, miniguns, Stingers, a Ma Deuce at both doors and curare tipped blowgun darts. The best, installed, powered up with a green light and targets. Lotsa targets.”

“We’re talking serious payback. You do not shoot down Lisa Glane and get away scot-free. Let’s say she’s very motivated to get to the frontlines.” Nicole grinned. “Claire has her hands full keeping that spitfire in the hospital and wanting to be her copilot at the same time.”

“Good on her.” Marcie said, “You can’t keep a good girl down.”

“Glad she’s going to be OK. What about us? Who wants us dead enough to ignore collateral damage and expense?” Phil continued with what he knew. “I know Abrams’ black ops budget was the seed. A $20 million reward is a nice deal for small groups. Figure ten in a group, half million prep and an opportunity to strike. Split the bounty among the survivors. Good payoff for that kind of work.” He threw his hands up. “Which third party padded the bounty enough to make the Cape Town crew interested? Mercs with that kind of equipment want half up front. They lost five times the reward in helicopters and transport.”

Traci said, “Or did they already have a mission going and decide to pick up some quick pocket money along the way? Like ‘Hey boss, just got a Telex for a 20 mil contract on two dozen college kids. It’s on the way. Whatcha think?’ ‘Easy enough, why not? Destabilizing Barbados can wait a couple hours. Set course for the Carolina coast.’ Maybe we saved a government somewhere.”

“From our side, it looks like someone made it worth their while, hired them deliberately or we were a side job.” Marcie decided. “None of which gives me the warm and fuzzies. If we were a quick money thing, what was their primary mission? Where? Is it complete or pending?”

“Then there’s Zina’s Fanatic Factor. ‘True Believers’ have no off switch. Wounded egos have to be avenged, reputations rebuilt. Martyrs r’ Us.” Phil added. “It may stop making sense altogether.” He looked around. “As if it ever did. Who would have predicted this? A drunken fortuneteller on LSD couldn’t get close on a good day with a script.”

“Last week I wanted some time at the beach and a nice light tan. We’ve been here exactly a week. Best I can get is powder burns and body armor.” Marcie grinned. “It makes no sense now, Phil.”

“OK, OK, Ms Patterson. Here is where we stand. Abrams is out, but in the wind. The Undersecretary of Defense is Acting Director of DHS. The Justice Department wants to know who is financing paramilitary operations inside our boundaries. The CIA is asking pointed questions overseas to some very inconvenienced informants. The CinC is pissed, very pissed.” Nick started to explain before Phil interrupted.

“If I was them, I’d be asking how it got this far. Then, who wants it to go farther? Why us?” Phil was serious. “The President promoted me to protect my girls from a corrupt man who was seldom held publicly accountable for his sins. I thought it was to slap down Abrams. Now the Pentagon, Justice Department and Intelligence communities are involved.”

Traci had to add, “And the Families have pretty much smashed two or three countries and who knows how many crooks and cartels. Except for the smashing part, how come we had to do the DEA’s job? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“The usual major players, the Yakuza, Triad, Russian Mafia and the Saudis carrying the water for the terrorists, are the prime suspects.” Nick said, “But we have family eyes and ears there as well as the CIA. They don’t seem that interested anymore. The Chinese and now the Yakuza see the destruction of the South Americans as a business opportunity. They are trying to outmaneuver the other. The Russians are consolidating territory, hoping the Asians hurt themselves enough to make Russian expansion relatively effortless.”

“Unless there are new faces, that leaves the Saudi terrorist sympathizers, or Yemenis perhaps, as the only parties able to afford the tab.” Phil assumed, “And the ones most likely to cop a fatwa sanctioned jihadi attitude. The ones with the least reason on the surface, too.”

“If we can’t squeeze the South Africans, it might be a game of wait and see. That sucks.” Traci smiled, “I’m telling Mom.”

“That is a very good idea.” Nicole said, “Libby’s spies might be looking under different rocks.”

“Oh, shit! That’s it, different rocks. There is a new player who is an old player. Nick, Nicole, we are on lockdown, information-wise. You two and you two only, sweep the boat for bugs and trackers. Marcie, go with them. You know the comm. desk best. Look for anything odd, consoles moved, clean spots, even wires not tangled right. Listen to your intuition. Act casual, don’t rush, but rush. We might be in danger now.”

“Traci, call your Mom. Ask her to get to a private office, alone, and call back Tell her to trust no one except Max and the President. No one.” Phil whispered. “I’ll clue you all in when we are safe. Don’t talk until the ‘Darling’ is clear.”

Marcie and Nicole strolled to the dock and then to the ship, chatting about the reception and excellent food. Nick went to his supply truck for the electronic broom. Phil and Traci, with her on the phone, walked over to the banquet table where the other twenty girls were still working on Belle. They hardly noticed when Phil motioned two very worried brunette twins to follow him and Traci to the far end of the pier.

“It’s bad. Bonnie and I pinged real hard a few minutes ago, cousin. You felt it, too? We’re in it deep and right now.”

“Yes and double yes. I think I know who and why. Traci, give me the phone and go work with Marcie to clear the boat. Signal Connie or Bonnie when it is safe to board. You twins get the others organized to say our good byes. Get Sherry and the Ninjas ready for trouble. Protect the girls until I get there. I have to talk to Libby.”

The phone buzzed softly. “Libby here. Scrambled and alone. What’s up?” Straight and to the point.

“We were looking at the wrong loonies, Lib. Run everything we have on the Neo-Nazis in Germany, Argentina, and South Africa against that crazy White Separatist Reverend and his associates we pounded in Scarboro, anything we have on the Cape Town mercenaries, names, families, old jobs, customers and targets, and where they get the funding for guns and groceries.” Phil told her in a rush. “Use your secure laptop and log onto the SingerNet. Use ‘BeeHynde FuzzyWuzzy’ instead of your normal password. A fuzzy-logic AI emulator will open. Feed it everything. Images, databases, conspiracy theories, newspaper clippings, dossiers, bank accounts, dates, genealogies, anything. It will sort and compare as you enter. Also, the program has an Internet data-miner which will open and search for any words and phrases it pegs as keywords. Whatever it finds will be added to the your input. Get Max to plug in a USB keyboard and enter data simultaneously.”

“This is huge, Phil. Who can I trust to help assemble the data?”

“African Americans, Native Americans, Asians, Latinos, the inner circle people you trust except for WASPS. That is a cheap reverse stereotype, but it is what it is. The Nazis and White Power Parties don’t recruit in the ghetto.” He whispered. “Make it sound like grunt work the Master Race is too good to do. Once your people figure it out, they’ll work like bandits. Carmine’s girls think big trouble is eminent and I agree. Nick and Nicole are sweeping any bugs out of the boat our guests may have planted. I have to go now. Call back when you get started and Traci can fill you in on our day.”

“Bye. Be safe. I have work to do.”

Phil quickly called his Mom. “Sorry, Mom I have to be abrupt. I’ll apologize later.” He brought her up to the minute, never taking his eyes off the crowd and his girls. “That’s the story. Libby has the research underway. Maybe you and Dad can get the Families to circle the wagons. Please include the football team and the ROTC guys. We didn’t just beat these clowns; we humiliated them and then gave a concert. They will go after us first, and then go after the rest. Tell Carmine her girls are getting more powerful. They alerted instantly same as I did. I got the opponent, they got the time and place. I have to go now, Marcie is signaling the all clear. We are going to go back to the island if we can. I don’t want to risk a fight with so many innocents around.”

“Son. I’ll make sure the right people know here and in Scarboro. Adam might have another security team near Manteo. They can help, if he can move them to Cedar Island in time. We love you all. Be careful.”

He was still watching the area. “Wait, Mom. The crowd is acting kind of drowsy, like they’ve been drinking, but no alcohol was served. The food is spiked. Better have Dad call the Sheriff. Maybe you should talk to Maggie and Jenny. I don’t think they have eaten.” People were beginning to slump to the ground. “Everyone is going to sleep. We’re on our own. See you on the other side. Love you, too. Bye.”

He ran up the gangplank He walked among the crew, saying softly as he passed each girl, “It’s the White Separatists. Don’t make a big deal of it. Armor up, all weapons hot. Ninjas, everything is on the table. Load the 50s, power up the missiles. Passive IR and video. No radar yet. Marcie, find Crazyhorse. I need to talk to the Special Forces at the island. Traci, call the Craven County Sheriff. Talk to her only. Tell her someone drugged the Beaufort police and Carteret County deputies. Roadblocks might be good. Then dress and warm up the helm. Do not light the engines. Mates, cut the mooring lines but don’t cast off. Let the ropes fall when we move.”

He told Sherry and the Motor Maids, “No RPGs, rifles only. Snipers to target anyone not obviously carrying an assault rifle. Look for RPGs, and shoulder missiles. Hit the shooter, then the weapon. Make it useless.”

Marcie couldn’t get Lt. Gomez on the phone or radio. “The people on the lawn appear drugged or stoned, Phil. I think there was something in the food. But not ours.”

The girls all looked sharp and alert. Good and bad. They were sharp and alert, but the racists probably wanted to deal with them up close and personal, hence, no drugs. What’s the fun in shooting, or worse, a person sleeping?

“Did the exterminators find much? What’s the bug report, Marcie?”

“Medium sized infestations. Five audio and two GPS beacons. We bitched about nosy reporters while we turned them off, but they know we found the snoopers. Means we have at least one tainted Marine in Pierson’s squad, doesn’t it?”

“Yep. I heard some of the militia and survivalist types enlist for the training. Might be the case here. Might be someone who went bad later.”

“Hey, Nick. You and Nicole are ready to rock. Why? You ate as much as any of the sleepynappers on the lawn. How come you are bright eyed and bushy tailed?”

“Leave my tail out of it, thank you.” Nicole grinned.

“My paranoid medic tested the food. Found a cheap trank in the condiments. An energy drink neutralized it straight away. I recommend the mocha late flavored caffein followed by a whiff of amyl nitrate. An ammonia popper will do. My guys passed the word to Maggie. She dosed the LEOs. The deputies and Singer guys are playing possum to stop hostage taking.” Nick answered, “I never liked ketchup on my fries.”