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Brushy Lake could be one of several places known by that name but few knew about this place known by that name. A few miles north of U.S. Highway 64 and not a lake at all the name gave no clues to outsiders. Jerry Frazier had called that since he was a child and had once lived there and thirty years later was again spending most of his time there. It wasn't unpleasant except during the worst of summer when humidity and insects were at their worst and as long as one could get inside it wasn't so bad. He was inside now and not interested in going outside but it seemed someone had other ideas. He moused to the dialog box and clicked on the new message. 'You awake? VX4.' Vertex Four. Whatever they got it'll be a change of scenery. 'All ears. Continue.' 'We have something that requires some special skills. You have anything in the hopper?' 'Nope. Wondering what happened to you.' 'It's been a busy few weeks. What did you think of the latest Templar operation?' 'Looked efficient.' 'The usual as far as most know.' 'Someone know something different?' 'Check the latest post by Chaos Lily on the Citadel board and get back to me.' 'Roger. See you in a few.' He rolled the chair over to Cassandra and moved the mouse to wake her up and selected a USB stick from several on a keyring, plugged it in. A folder appeared and he selected the the key for Citadel. Once connected the main screen appeared and he clicked on the a section. Chaos Lily was an operative in Charlie Seven at Amarillo. She was Jerry's liaison officer and while he had met her a few times he knew exactly nothing about her except that she was five-seven and about a hundred and twenty pounds and looked about thirty at most. He suspected that most everything about her was highly classified. The timestamp was about fifty-six hours ago and the message was brief: Operation Steel Bear assessment reveals two anomolies. The site needs to be examined closely at the earliest opportunity. A connection to the Masters beyond the usual is suspected. Fifty-six hours ago and the earliest opportunity is probably when I get a team in there. And I don't like the idea of a Masters connection. Steel Bear was supposed to be a routine sanitization of a nest. He messaged Vertex. 'What do you think?' 'More than two days ago and now it needs another look?' 'It happens.' 'What's the setup?' 'How soon can you be at the Lodge?' Hundred and twenty miles give or take, three hours with no problems. An hour to prepare. 'Five hours.' 'OK.' 'See you later.' The drive wouldn't be much to worry about - three stretches of rural highway and two small towns and one really small town and a couple of wide spots in the road. Each of the towns had an agent or two and he would be advised of any enemy activity along the way. He called Olivia on the TR-500. "Yes m'lord," she said sleepily. "Your lord has to make a journey," he said. "He regrets the short notice." "As does his lady. How many days is the journey?" "Citadel called," he said. "Something with Steel Bear apparently doesn't look good." "That was a couple of days ago," Olivia said. "What I told them. Apparently it was enough to worry someone. I'll be up in a few minutes." Olivia's quarters were upstairs in the big house and while they were either together either there or at his place he had gotten in late and didn't want to wake her. He went across to the hall to the master bath and brushed his teeth and shaved before a quick shower. A khaki uniform unadorned but for the lapel pin went on and a favorite pair of his Timberland boat shoes finished the outfit. The shoulder rig went into the small bag - if he needed it along the way it would be on the front passenger seat. Driving while wearing it wasn't practical so he shoved the Ruger SR40 into a crossdraw holster and put the Curtiss kubon on the right side. The shorty M1 would ride along with the shoulder rig. What else? The razor in the back pocket and the leaf knife on the neck chain. That should do it. Time to kiss Olivia goodbye. That was always the hard part. Olivia was up and dressed when he arrived. Red silk harem pants and a tight T-shirt and barefoot, her long black hair a little wild.... Olivia was calm if nothing else, holding him for a long while without saying anything. She let go and stepped back. "Is this serious?" she asked. "Not as far as I know," he replied. "But you know how that can go." "Something in the Steel Bear raid worried.... someone upstairs?" "Right," Jerry said. "And for now that's all I know. I'll call you in... give me six hours. By that time I should know what's up." "Always the optimist," she said. "Whatever it is let me know." "Got it," said Jerry. "Hal and the crew are at your command. They won't let anything through." "OK, I'll be waiting for your call." A quick kiss, always at times like this. Pretend it's nothing to worry about. He turned back to the stairs. The black 2004 Pontiac Bonneville was the usual ride of choice for occasions like this. Anything made in the past four years would definitely attract attention and a ten-year-old vehicle was a bit risky. A generic twenty-something was as near invisible unless he wanted to drive a jalopy to look like one of the really outsiders. The Bonneville had the Caddy V8 and if he had to go fast for a bit it would to it. He tossed his bags in the back seat and got in, laying the M1 on the passenger seat and tossing an old M-65 field jacket on top. The Commpad went into its nest on the dash. He fired the engine and looked at the instuments, fuel was full as it was always topped off when returning from a trip. He pressed the button to open the front door of the drive-through garage and drove out. A crushed rock driveway ran the two hundred or so yards to the gate. He slowed as he approached and then stopped to wait for the two men who emerged from a small grove. He lowered the window. "Anything hot?" one asked. That was Greg Watson, nearly Jerry's age. The younger one was named Tommy Hillis and was in his twenties and that was all Jerry knew - he had arrived a couple of weeks earlier and being vetted by Vertex was all he needed to know. "Beats me," Jerry replied. "I guess they're vague because half the time it's nothing but they want me to hurry anyway. I'll advise it I have to be gone more than a day or two." "I get that," Greg said. "Everything is hot. Be safe." "Will do." The gates opened and he drove through, turning left onto County Road 334. It had a good chipseal surface and very little traffic. He set the cruise at 55. There was a 45 MPH speed limit sign at each of the wide spots - he observed the limit even though traffic enforcement was rare most places outside the heavily populated areas and there it was usually a pretext for checking out a suspicious vehicle. Powell population 13,306 whenever it was last updated and that could be a while. The main drag was four lanes and had seven traffic lights - they were synchronized and with little traffic and timing he could usually hit most of them on green and traffic was light these days. There were also a couple of regime agents in Powell and Jerry knew who they were - both were routinely assigned about three years ago some rumors of rebel activity in the area got back. Jerry knew what it was as Vertex had planted it - coordinating with Section Six in Amarillo. They even dropped bits of information occasionally to get them to snoop around the area. Jerry had met them a couple of times as Citadel had agents watching them and had set up operations to get them in the same place at the same time. Both were typical bureaucrat material and may well have been pulled out from desk jobs at some non-essential agency. One seemed to be in his late forties and the other thirty-something. On one he posed as a local who lived out in the country and dropped what should have been enough clues to get him reported but they didn't seem to notice. But perhaps they were just lazy and took the government job because it was easier. He exited the otherside without seeing anything alarming and hit resume to begin the longer stretch to Oak Grove. The Commpad buzzed and he looked over at the screen, tapped the talk button. "You're late," he said. "Harry is late," the 'pad replied. Bill Anderson, one of the agents in Powell. "I got the call twenty minutes ago and got on the road in time to see you pass. I'm about a quarter mile back and will close up to a couple hundred - white minivan." "Gotcha." "We can't risk putting a drone up just now," Bill said. "but Jeremiah is waiting at Oak Grove to run point." Jeremiah was Kurt Gibson and Oak Grove - or a place just outside town - was a safe house under his supervision. Oak Grove was just a few miles after the turn onto 103. The 'pad buzzed. 'Grey 09 Ford Ranger just before OG' There wasn't much traffic and the vehicle that had gotten between him and Bill at the last traffic light in Powell was still there, not that there was anywhere for it to be go until the the next town. It was a fairly new Chevy Impala and it being a government vehicle was likely, that or someone with connections. He kept an eye on it while watching for Jeremiah. There. The grey truck moved back onto the road well ahead of him and matched his speed when he was a couple hundred yards behind it. He could see Bill's vehicle only occasionally as he road curved enough to see past the Chevy. Bill had closed up some but the Chevy was maintaining its distance. At Oak Grove they were closer together and the first light caught them. Sandwiched between Kurt and Bill he could see that there were two people in the Chevy. The 'pad buzzed. 'Your tail is G-men. The Coastal station is a good place to lose them.' The Coastal station was on the left after the light after the next light. The tail followed but when he moved into the turn lane at the station it kept going, as Kurt did. Bill followed Jerry and stopped at the pumps while Jerry parked at the front of the store and went inside. He got a soda and a Slim Jim and a pack of Backwoods cigars. Bill was waiting outside. "That's a new one," he said referring to the Chevy. "No ID yet except government. Let's see what Kurt has." They went to Bills vehicle and he buzzed Kurt. 'Followed me for a while and just turned around. Headed back your way.' "We've got about five minutes," Bill said. "Let's get onto a back street." Jerry ran to his car and followed Bill for several blocks. Bill buzzed him. 'Follow me'. Bill led him on a circuitious path out past the edge of town and back onto the highway. A few minutes later they spotted Jeremiah's grey Ranger and the procession reassembled. Rockford was not quite an hour away and they passed through uneventfully and the remainder of the trip was the same. At the entrance to the grounds of the Lodge Bill and Kurt turned back while Jerry entered. No personnel were visible but he knew that several cameras - and guns - were tracking him as he entered the underground garage. He parked and got out as a small crew approached. Three of them were wearing the slightly dark tan uniforms of Lodge regulars, one was in camo and the other was Miranda. Something must be up. "Guys, take Jerry's luggage to his quarters please," Miranda said. "Harry's waiting for us." "Harry was late getting my escort started," Jerry said. "Please," said Miranda, "this is important." "Nice to see you too," Jerry said to the guy in camo. "Likewise," Brian Stanley replied. Brian Stanley didn't talk much and Jerry liked that. He was also a good man to have around for just about anything that might come up. "Didn't expect to find you here," Jerry said. "Neither did I," Brian said as they arrived at the elevator.
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