“Call our friend Long.”
O’Meara flinched. “Are you sure that’s wise? Long is pretty competent, at least the best we have. But Long is… unpredictable.”
“Do you doubt Long’s commitment to our cause?”
“To our cause, no? To our group, absolutely. Long never bought into us being any better than anyone else. Plus, Long has a soft spot for men in the service.”
“So we’ll say they’re traitors who shot several of us in Boston trying to protect the status quo. Unless you can think of someone better for the job?”
“Isn’t Long following up on the other search?”
“Yes, but that’s not a problem,” she said. Anyway, Long is a sniper, not a researcher. We’ll get Mark Cabrone to do the research.”
“How much does he know?”
“How much do any of us know? Have you told me everything you know?” Her eyes bored into him.
O’Meara swallowed. “How about I plead the Fifth? And I know you haven’t shared everything.”
“Precisely. Decentralization has its advantages, as the unfortunate Mr. Mason’s ancestor knew all too well. It doesn’t really matter. The whole point is to expose what the Constitution really says, not hide anything.”
“Yeah, but what if it’s like what happened in Boston?” They’d uncovered enough of the collapsed chamber that had claimed their comrades’ lives to discover it wasn’t at all what they had expected. In fact, the discovery called their motives into question, so in some ways the fact that it had been destroyed was a blessing. All he sought were the tools to stop America’s decline.
The shadow woman’s breathing grew louder, and for a few seconds she said nothing. Finally the breathing stopped. “I assure you O’Meara, it is not like what happened in Boston. I heard it from the lips of my grandfather himself, and his father was actually present that day in Gettysburg. In any case, we need proof, and neither you nor I can go poking around the Smithsonian’s archives.”
O’Meara could recognize a battle no longer worth fighting. “Fine, I’ll contact Long right away. I bet Bones and Maddock will go by the warehouse, that’s as good a place as any to do it.”
The woman nodded with the limited head movement common to the aged. Then she left the room without a word.
O’Meara glanced around the office, a temporary place owned by a Delaware corporation with enough layers of ownership to make an onion jealous. It all traced back to one of the Sons of the Republic if you looked hard enough. The building was old, the floors pitted and creaky, but somehow it felt just right given what he was trying to do.
His eyes landed on Mason’s corpse, and he sighed. One more headache to deal with. He suspected someone who invented a quick, easy, and untraceable way to dispose of a body would become rich beyond belief. Sadly, such a genius had yet to materialize.
As he painfully got to his feet, he muttered to himself, “The things I do for my country.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The warehouse didn’t look like much from the outside. Just a monolithic gray structure a little over two stories high. It wasn’t as old as the textile mill buildings, but proximity to the Delaware River had almost certainly served as the motivation for its construction. In years past, the Port Richmond area of the city had boasted vibrant industry; now it was an up-and-coming residential area with reminders like this one still dotting the riverfront.
Given the lack of lights in the area, Dane and Bones had considered donning all black, but in the end rejected it as potentially drawing more attention than it prevented. It would reduce the likelihood of someone spotting them, but if they were spotted, no one would be in any doubt about their intent. So they wore jeans and dark jackets, enough to stay in the shadows but not look too nefarious. The thirty-five degree temperatures also allowed them to wear black gloves without raising any eyebrows.
“Looks like the door is locked. Time for a little breaking and entering?” Bones asked.
“I prefer not to break when I enter, Bones. See those high windows. If we slide the dumpster over, we should be able to remove a few panes of glass and then reach through and open the window.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re no fun, Maddock?”
“Mostly you, Bones.”
Bones scrutinized the windows. “Okay, so what are the chances they’re alarmed?”
Dane had worried about that very thing, but he figured they didn’t have many options. “No idea. That’s why we need to be in and out quickly.”
They headed into the shadows and moved the dumpster. Up by the window, Dane’s Recon One knife made short work of the crumbling putty around the ancient planes of glass. Within a minute, Bones used his long arms to reach in and turn the latch so they could slide the window open.
The window turned out to be about ten feet above the floor inside, and they managed the drop easily. Dane heard no alarm, nor saw any flashing lights, but he still worried about some sort of silent security system tied into the police. He switched on his light to get his bearings.
The place was empty. Just hard concrete as far as the eye could see. Moving the light around, he finally saw a door about seventy-five feet away. Before Dane even said anything, Bones started moving towards it. Dane switched off the light, not wanting to take the slight risk that someone outside would see a light beam flickering. Enough light came in through the few windows that he could see a vague outline of the door as he got close.
Bones reached for the knob and opened it. The much smaller room on the other side had a couple of wooden chairs and a desk, but no windows. Dane shut the door behind them and switched the light back on.
“Dude, I think we found something.” Bones pointed to a huge pile of shredded papers in the corner. It rose at least six feet high, and spread a number of feet down the wall.
“Well, it could be nothing — most companies destroy their old documents after a certain number of years.”
“True, but we’re in an empty warehouse that we know is tied to the Sons of the Republic. Why store all these documents right in this old office. I bet—”
Bones reached over to one side of the pile and started nudging it aside. A mass of the shredded confetti started moving and Bones had to jump back to avoid being buried in three feet of it. He pointed and laughed. “Yep, see the edge of that file cabinet. This stuff was in there.”
Dane frowned. “Well it’s all we have. But it’s useless. I don’t care what you see in the movies, no one pieces together information from stuff like this.”
He picked up a handful and let it run through his fingers, trying to stave off the rising disappointment. He noticed Bones staring at the file cabinet with more concentration than he normally applied to anything.
“What is it, Bones?”
Bones didn’t say anything, just jumped into the pile of documents and started tossing them over his shoulder towards the other side of the room. Dane had to jump aside to avoid taking the flying debris in the face.
“I’m afraid to ask what you’re doing now.”
Bones looked up under his shoulder with the familiar grin. “Looking for buried treasure.”
When Dane remained planted with a quizzical look on his face, Bones stood up. “Okay, we agree that these shredded documents are useless, right?”
“Right.”
“I want to look inside the file cabinet. With so many thousands to shred, maybe they missed one.”
Dane pondered this for a moment. It seemed like the longest of long shots. But hell, they were here and this would only take a few minutes. He waded in and started helping Bones. Pretty soon they had the front of the cabinet clear so they could open the drawers. Opening each drawer, they felt all around the inside.