"John could actually overhear calls, if a cell phone were being used out there?"
"He could if he has a scanner. You can buy them at Radio Shack and modify them to pick up cell phone frequencies."
"But it wouldn't pick up Ham's scrambled phone."
"No, and if it did, it would only get static."
"So if Ham got the phone out of the lake, he could use it without being caught."
"Without being caught electronically," Eddie corrected.
"If you're right about John catching on," Holly said, "then Ham would know about it, because he was in the car. Maybe that's why he's not using the phone."
"But he was here when I explained how the scrambled phone walked," Eddie said. "He heard me say that it would be undetectable."
"That's right," Harry said. "If Ham remembers."
"He'll remember," Holly said. "He's got a memory like a bear trap, better than mine."
"I hope it's better than mine," Harry said.
"Hey, listen up," Eddie said, pointing at the radio. "Ham's on the air."
Holly heard a jumble of voices, then a door close.
"Ham, I hear you're working wonders with the Barrett's rifle," a voice said.
"Damn right he is," another man chipped in.
"It seems to be going well," Ham said.
"Could you be ready to shoot by, say, Monday?" the first voice asked.
"John, I'm ready now," Ham replied.
Harry spoke up. "Eddie, is the tape recorder on?"
"Yes," Eddie replied.
"Monday will be soon enough," John said.
"You ready to tell me what I'll be shooting at?" Ham asked.
"Two, maybe three men in the back seat of a limo," John replied. "And that's all you need to know for now."
"I think we ought to start watching the weather," Ham said. "You get the Weather Channel out here?"
"Yes, on satellite," the third man said.
"Peck, that's not going to get you a local forecast."
"Why are you worried about the weather?" John asked.
"I'm worried about the wind," Ham said. "If there's more than a slight breeze, windage could be a real problem, depending on the distance. Is this limo likely to be moving through a crowd?"
"Maybe," John said.
"I don't think we want to shoot near a crowd, if there's any wind. You don't want to kill a lot of citizens, do you?"
"Not unless it's absolutely necessary," John replied.
"Well, if you have an option-I mean, if there's a route for this limo, and you could choose where to shoot, you might want to look for a spot with trees on either side of the road, and the taller, the better."
"That would help you with the wind?"
"It would, if the wind wasn't too strong."
"I can get an aviation forecast that would give me winds at the local airport twenty-four hours ahead of time."
"That would be a big help," Ham said. "The winds ought to be the same on the street."
"Well, let's go to dinner," John said, and the three men left the room.
"Well, whatever it is, it's Monday," Holly said.
"Eddie," Harry said, "I want you to get on the Internet and visit every Florida site you can find. Look for a list of events on Monday. Doug, I want you to call the FAA and tell them I want to know-in fact, I want tapes-of anybody who calls from Saturday onward asking for a forecast of local winds, not a whole briefing for a flight and not a winds-aloft forecast, just a forecast of local winds at any airport in the state."
"Will do," Doug said.
"Ham can't tell us where this is happening," Harry said, "because he doesn't know, but we do know he's supposed to shoot at two or three men in a limo, and on Monday. It's a start."
51
Ham excused himself right after dinner, claiming to be tired, and walked back to the bunkhouse. The place was empty when he arrived, so he walked out to the lakeshore. It was a cloudy night, so there was no moon, and the water looked very dark. He needed to be able to see, if he was going to find that phone. He would have to wait until morning and take a chance on looking for it in broad daylight.
The others arrived at the bunkhouse an hour later, and Ham was already in bed. He pretended that they woke him up, then he grabbed a blanket and a pillow. "I'm sleeping outside," Ham said. "You guys are going to be snoring away in a few minutes." He walked out of the house, this time dragging a bunk mattress, and stretched out beside the lake.
Half an hour later, it was quiet in the bunkhouse, and Ham was tempted to go after the phone, but he only wanted to do this once. He knew his warning to Jimmy about cottonmouths and gators might be more real than imaginary. He settled in for the night.
Holly went to bed early, with a movie on the TV at the end of the bed, but it bored her, and she was soon sleepy. She switched off the TV and lay in bed, thinking of Jackson and waiting for sleep to come.
Ham woke in the green-gray light of the predawn, and soon he could see that the sky had cleared during the night. The others would be waking soon, so if he was going to do it, now was the time.
First, he walked quietly back to the bunkhouse and looked in through a window. The four men were all still fast asleep. Then he walked to the corner of the barracks, looked for the stone he had left at the lakeside as a marker, and walked toward it. When he got to the stone, he stripped off his shorts and waded gingerly into the lake. The bottom was soft, and he stirred up a lot of mud.
"Shit," he said softly to himself, "that's going to make it harder." Then the bottom fell away in front of him, and he was shoulder deep in the water. He looked back at his reference line, then took a deep breath and went under, hoping that the lake didn't get much deeper.
The water was reasonably clear, and he swam along the gently sloping bottom for a few yards, sweeping his hands along the bottom, feeling for Holly's package. He began to run out of air, so he surfaced and looked back at the barracks. He was off his line a bit and farther from shore than he intended to be. He reckoned that the package was ten yards from shore, and he had swum fifteen or twenty.
He got back on his reference line and swam a little closer to shore, then he dove again, feeling his way along the bottom. There was not as much light as he had hoped, since the sun wasn't really up yet.
The water became shallow again, and he popped up, looking back at the barracks to be sure no one was watching him. He was, maybe, five yards offshore.
He checked his reference line again, adjusted his position, dove and started back toward deeper water. He had only swum three or four strokes when his hand brushed against something soft. He stopped and looked, but he had stirred up the bottom, and he could see nothing. He returned to the surface, got another breath and dove again, keeping as much as possible in the same spot.
He still couldn't see well, but this time he came into contact with a plastic bag. He came back to the surface again, and as he did, he saw Jimmy standing on shore, looking out at him.
With his free hand, he waved. "Come on in," he said. "It's a little chilly, but not bad."
"What about all those snakes and alligators you told me about?" Jimmy called back.
"I figure I can see them in daylight," Ham replied. He was clutching the plastic bag, dying to look at it, but having to keep it underwater. He turned on his back and floated a little, hoping Jimmy would go away.
"You okay out there?" Jimmy called.
"Just fine," Ham called back, not looking at him. A moment later, he heard the screen door slam.
He swam around for a while longer, then started back toward shore. He couldn't leave the water carrying the bag, so as he found the bottom, he began looking for a place to leave the plastic bag. He saw a clump of tall grass and headed for that, surreptitiously stuffing the bag into the grass as he passed it, then he got out and walked up to the barracks and stuck his head inside the door. "Somebody toss me a towel?" he called.
Somebody did, and he dried himself, then went back for his bedding. By the time he was back inside the bunkhouse, the four were already dressing.