"I'll be damned." Burke chuckled. "You can tell one of the others is much larger, too."
"If he was lying down, I could tell you how tall he is."
Burke frowned. "You're kidding."
"Afraid not," McKenzie said. "He can measure a known distance and interpolate to make other measurements."
"Like the Jeep over here," Buddy said. "I have a book with vehicle measurements. I correlate the measurement on the print with the Jeep's listed width or length, then set up a scale to measure anything you'd like."
Burke was so fascinated by the photography that he didn't get away from Aerial Photomap until later than planned. He drove back to the car rental office and swapped the Caprice for a van. Then he went on a shopping spree that included a camera store and a marine supply outlet. He also paid a visit to a less fashionable side of town. He knew the right places to look and the right questions to ask. Before leaving New Orleans, he had purchased a snub-nosed Ruger .38 revolver with the serial number carefully removed. As he looked at the pistol, he knew he had really crossed the Rubicon with this one. The gun was probably stolen and had been illegally altered. Was he any better now than the people he was pursuing? He hoped so, though he wasn't absolutely sure. Nothing was done in the abstract, he assured himself. You had to consider motives. And he was quite comfortable with his own motive. He was no longer just pursuing this case to track down Cam's killers. He had to get to the bottom of Jabberwock before D-Day came and God-knows-what happened. The gun would be insurance for the trip to Oyster Island. In case it should be lost or misplaced, he didn't want one that could be traced.
By the time he reached Apalachicola, it was early evening, nearly time for the call to Lori. He had considered all his options during the drive back, eventually reinforcing the same conclusion he had made earlier. It would take a trip to Oyster Island to make any definitive judgment on Operation Jabberwock. He certainly knew much more now, but he still had no idea what the "device" could be. The odd-looking truck was a puzzling new development.
"How did the photo opportunity go?" Lori asked when he called.
"Unbelievable," he said.
When he told her about the pictures and what Buddy Bottelli had been able to conclude from them, she asked hopefully, "Does that mean you won't need to go out to Oyster Island?"
"Sorry. I know they have some sort of explosive device, but I don't know what it is. And I don't know how they plan to deploy it, or for what purpose. If I can follow up on those clues to a possible security system, it should help improve the chances of slipping in unobserved."
"All right," she said, abandoning her attempt to change his mind, her voice taking on a note of determination. "If you're going to insist on traipsing out to that island, I'm coming down there, and I'm bringing reinforcements."
"You're what?"
"Chlo and Walt got onto my case last night about how I'd been acting," she said. "They knew I had a major problem, and I finally decided to lay it on the line."
"You told them about Jabberwock?" he said in disbelief.
"These are my best friends, Burke. They want to help. That's what I meant by reinforcements. Walt is coming with me and we'll rent a sailboat to get us out to the island. He's as good a sailor as you'll find."
He had to admit, if grudgingly, that Lori could be a big help to him, especially with her CIA experience. And he had missed being with her these past several days. But the expedition to Oyster Island could easily turn into a disaster, and he felt a real reluctance at exposing Lori or Dr. Walter Brackin to that possibility.
"I guess he'd be a real asset if somebody got hurt," Burke said, "but I'm not looking for that to happen."
"There's one thing about Walt I didn't tell you," she said. "Before going into practice, he was a doctor with the Army Special Forces. He'll be an asset whatever happens."
Burke tried one last gambit. "From what I've heard, those guys are just doctors who treat the wounded. That's considerably different than being a Special Forces soldier."
"What you didn't hear, my love, was that they are not required to go through the rigorous training program. But they have the option to. Walt took it. He knows all the tricks. He suggested that I stay with the boat and he would go ashore with you."
Burke considered that prospect for a moment. It could double the odds of a successful assault. He still didn't like the idea of further spreading the word of Jabberwock, but he had to admit Lori was a pro at organizing an undertaking, for whatever purpose. He knew he couldn't deny her participation any longer. After all, this was what her father had died for.
"When will you be coming down?"
"Sometime tomorrow. Where's the best place for you to meet us?"
"Panama City is closest, but the airport isn't very big. Your best bet would be Tallahassee. It's just a little more than an hour's drive."
"Let me get onto a terminal here and see what's available. Hold on." There was a long silence, and then she came back on. "We can fly through Atlanta and get there early in the afternoon. How does that sound?"
"Fine. It should give us plenty of time to find a boat. Are Hawk's buddies still around? Would they follow you?"
"I've already set up a little deception for them. After I got home last night, I called Walt and we talked about the sailing party we planned for Friday. Supposedly Chlo is to meet us on Saturday. When we start out in the morning, I'll give Hawk's henchmen the slip, then we'll drive up to Baltimore to catch our flight."
Chapter 36
After breakfast, Burke tuned the TV in his motel room to the weather channel. He watched as the screen shifted, waiting for it to cycle around to the evening's forecast. The only thing that could deter him from the attempt to reconnoiter Oyster Island would be the storm that Kevin McKenzie had mentioned as likely hitting by the weekend. If it would just hold off until they could get back early Saturday morning.
When he finally saw the forecast, it brought only mild concern. Increasing clouds and brisk winds out of the west during the evening, with overcast skies and light rain by mid-morning Saturday, changing to heavy rains and possibly severe thunderstorms, confined to the north, Saturday afternoon. Since he planned to get under way before midnight and back by early morning, it didn't sound too bad.
With that worry behind him, at least for the moment, he put in a call to Toby Callahan in Kansas City.
Callahan growled. "You again? I thought I was finished with you."
Burke chuckled. "I don't have a single question about your boss-to-be. I'm only interested in a perimeter security installation. I figured who would know more about it than old Toby Callahan."
Faced with a non-threatening subject, Callahan reverted to his normal gruff but friendly manner. "Got some bastard after you, huh? Maybe you could do like Ollie North and get a well-heeled benefactor to put in a fence."
"No, it's nothing like that. I'm talking big time, industrial security, the stuff you do. Seems I recall there used to be some outfits in Florida that built high-tech equipment."
"There's one in Fort Lauderdale called—"
"How about northern Florida?"
"Northern Florida? Oh, sure. We used a Tallahassee company on a job in Mobile. Damned good outfit. It's called Starr Security Fence Company. Run by a guy named Randy Starr. I told him he should get rid of that 'Fence' in the name, it's misleading. But he said that's what got him started, chain link fences."
Burke tried to keep his tone light and chatty. "Would you do me another favor, Toby?"