He then proceeded to tell Osborne to keep his nose clean while on administrative leave. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He didn't really care. He was glad to get out of the station without vomiting. How the hell did the FBI sniff out his trail so quickly? Maybe it was nothing. Standard procedure in a federal case? He didn't like it either way. He'd spent three out of his last five vacation periods at the compound in West Virginia. There was no way they could know that, but it still unnerved him. It was too much of a coincidence. He'd have to buy one of those prepaid phones and report this to Brown. He started his car and drove slowly out of the parking lot onto 5th Street, heading southeast to the Best Buy on Baltimore Avenue.
Chapter 43
A single loon cut through the glassy water just off the small dock extending from the property's rocky shoreline. Lee Harding sat at the end of the floating dock in an Adirondack chair, holding one of the sporting rods they had found in the immense post and beam rental house. Jackson Greely followed the gravel path to a point where a small wooden ramp met the rocks. When he stepped on the dock, the loon suddenly took off, skipping along the water until it had gained enough speed to achieve flight. Harding turned his head and nodded a greeting.
Jackson took the empty chair and set his coffee down on the chair's wide arm.
"I just heard from Brown. Sergeant Osborne's chief took a call from an FBI agent asking questions about his vacation schedule. Apparently the chief told them to piss off," Jackson said.
Lee muttered an obscenity and met Jackson's stare. "That was fast. I assume you accelerated the timeline of our insurance policy?"
"We cash in on the premium tonight. That should buy us more than enough time to get the convoys on the road. Once the convoys depart, they can connect all of the dots and it won't matter," Jackson said.
"Tell Brown to get rid of Osborne. The FBI isn't likely to accept the chief's response. They'll obtain the records. It's fair to assume that the feds have connected the operatives captured or killed by their employer's vacation schedules. I wonder what else they're working on?" Harding said.
"It won't matter after tonight. They'll be in the middle of redeploying the entire task force based on what they found at the compound, when all hell breaks loose. Confusion will reign supreme for days."
Lee nodded in approval. "And the lab?"
Jackson was starting to get a little annoyed by Harding's barrage of questions. He didn't even have his cell phone handy…which wasn't a shocker given that he only fielded calls from Jackson. King Harding sat on his throne and accepted reports from his subordinates. He shouldn't think like this. The two of them had been friends for a long time, and Harding's aloofness wasn't a new development. He'd always been a "hands off" leader. Jackson was the direct opposite, with a leadership style that bordered on micromanagement. He'd long ago learned to identify competent and trustworthy people to help him compensate for this intensive, "hands on" approach. Brown was one of those people. Anne Renee was another. Maybe Lee's easy affect was due to the fact that Jackson took care of everything. He'd never been forced to adapt his style.
"Carnes is bitching up a storm, but he's pretty sure we can get the bottling wrapped up tomorrow morning if they work through the night. Shipments will leave late tomorrow afternoon if all goes well," he said.
"I can't believe we're this close. One week from now, things will start to change. The stage will be set for the New Recovery," Lee said.
"We still have a long way to go, and most of it will be out of our direct control," Jackson corrected.
"True, but the time has never been riper. The mortgage crisis is in full swing. Mortgage-backed securities. Credit default swaps. Collateralized debt obligations. The big banking collapse is flying just below everyone's radar. The nation needs new leadership to weather this manmade crisis. True America will step in to fill the void."
"We just need to get the convoys on the road," Jackson said.
They both stared out at the tranquil lake, still unspoiled by summer boaters.
"Has Young resurfaced?" Lee asked.
"No. I don't expect he will."
"Let's hope the FBI doesn't have him. He's enough of a weasel to roll on us."
"I'd be relieved if the FBI had him," Jackson said, causing Lee's head to snap up.
"What do you mean?"
"The team that aided his escape in Atlanta was outsourced. Highly skilled and untraceable. I'm hoping Mr. Young hired them. If not, we could have a big problem," Jackson said.
Chapter 44
"No way, and that's final," Darryl Jackson said.
He started pacing back and forth in front of the two double beds in his hotel room. There was no way he would drive back down to Fredericksburg and do what Berg had asked. The streets were jammed with cars, all with the same goal in mind — to find bottled water. Traffic along the Beltway alone would add two to three hours to his trip.
"Are you telling me that the CIA doesn't have access to a stockpile of weapons at The Farm? That's a two-hour drive for you."
"Not with this traffic, and I can't raid whatever armory you believe exists over there," Berg said.
"But it's all right for me to drive six hours or more through traffic to grab shit out of the Brown River armory? Not to mention the fact that Cheryl will divorce me if I abandon Liz," Jackson said.
"Liz will be fine. We're starting to think that the Fort Meade attack might have been a complicated ruse," Berg said.
"For what? A bigger attack? It doesn't sound like you know much of anything at this point."
"All I know is that we're sending outside assets up to Pennsylvania, well outside of any legal boundaries. If these suspicions are correct, this team will need specialized weapons and equipment. I'm cutting them forged FBI badges as we speak. Don't worry, if the shit hits the fan, I have your back," Berg said.
"Pennsylvania doesn't have any waiting period for rifle purchases. You can pick up some sweet equipment on the spot."
"Oh. I wasn't aware that you could buy suppressed weapons over the counter in Pennsylvania now, or fourth-generation night-vision rifle scopes. They overlook federal licensing for automatic weapons too?"
"This isn't fair, Karl. I can't leave Liz unattended. Cheryl will never forgive me if something happens," Jackson said.
"Princeton is a safe town. Well insulated. You'll be back in Princeton by tonight," Berg said.
"I'll be lucky to reach Fredericksburg by six this evening, and it will probably take me a few more hours to pull off the gun heist and—"
"Nobody's stealing. You're authorized to draw weapons from that armory," Berg interrupted.
"I'll be sure to tell that to the board of directors, after your people throw them into a river to cover their tracks."
"The team didn't have a choice in Kazakhstan. You know that," Berg said.
"Uh huh. So, I steal roughly thirty thousand dollars' worth of gear and get back in my truck for the seven-hour drive to Scranton. Thirteen hours in a car, transporting stolen assault weapons across at least three state lines. By myself."