Jerry
Jerry Haynes tapped a quick series of Ctrl-Ws and Ctrl-Qs to close the windows and a couple of Ctrl-Ds to close the terminal. Click the shutdown button and select restart. Pull the
USB stick when the bios message appears. He dropped the stick into a pocket and went to the door.
"Hello Jerry. Long time no see."
It had indeed been a while since he had seen Agent Al Speer. His first name was Alfred and always made Jerry think of the Nazi
war criminal which was a good reason for him not to use it. But a lot of Alfreds and Alberts went by Al. Still between FBI
agents these days and Nazis there wasn't a good choice to associate them with.
"If you wanted to wait a little longer I'd be good with it."
"I was in town and thought I'd see what you inventory looked like. Couple of nice classic 'vettes."
"I don't sell stuff that ain't nice. You looking for anything in particular?"
"Not just now. I'm looking for people and thought you might look at some pictures."
"Mugshots?"
"Some. Some surveillance shots, some others."
"I don't know a lot of criminals these days. At least I don't consort with people I know are criminals."
"If you say so."
"I'm just an old man selling used cars."
"Pretty pricey used cars."
"That white 'vette is a '72 Stingray assembled from parts of three or four cars. Not preserved or a resto with matching numbers or low miles
but the build is top-drawer.
Thirty-four flat and if you look at the records - the driveline was about twelve thousand - you can see I'm making about four thousand. I get audited
every year and if there was anything that looked like an excuse I'd be under arrest in about two minutes."
"A man in your situation would be careful. Most aren't."
"What situation is that?"
"Four armored car robberies that no one can figure out. Those poor crews got put through the
wringer since it looked like they had to be inside jobs."
"Where do I figure in on that?"
"The total take was over eleven million in cash. That was twenty-something years ago.
It was three years before you even began to move upscale and that was a little at a time.
Most aren't that smart."
"Three years from the last one?"
"About. They were spread out over two years."
"That was smart. No clues at all on who did it?"
Speer never smiled. Probably some of it was training, kind of like the cop that stops you
doesn't take off his sunglasses even when it's cloudy.
"None. You mind looking at those pictures?"
"Not at all."
Speer handed him the folder and Jerry looked through them. The mugshots had the name blacked out but
he easily recognized Melvin Hunt even if the picture was recent and he hadn't seen him in years.
None of the others looked familiar until the last one.
Billy Brawner. They never ID'd any of us but Billy just might have an idea where that loot from
the jeweler came from. He never met any of us but he knew enough to maybe put it together. But what
took so long?
"That looks like Billy Brawner," Jerry said. "I haven't seen him in years but he used to hang out with
some guys that were rumored to be connected with the Harrisburg Mafia.
Straight up. They already know that, probably know the last time I saw him. If only because he told them.
"He was a fence. Did you know that?"
"Maybe, probably. It's been a while. I didn't fool around much with those guys - they did some crazy stuff."
"What sort of crazy stuff?"
"Dogfighting was the one bothered me most. Those are some mean people. Add liquor and drugs, prostitution with minors, I didn't want to be around them."
"Were you?"
"Once that I know of. I got out of there. I want nothing to do with them."
He'd probably know that. Knows everything else. Probably knows I went up there to get Mary Ann and that dude had taken her up there.
Probably dumb of me, could've got killed but I had to get her out.
"Anything else?"
"As far as I know and it mostly just what I hear just the usual. Drugs and prostitution. Rumors of underage girls and some people with money from as
far away as Memphis and Little Rock, St. Louis even. Are you interested in drug and human trafficking or twenty-something year old armored car robberies?"
"I'm working on several cases. I'm pretty sure those other matters are being investigated. Brian Stanley and Scott Baker are dead and Jimmy Clark is in
a nursing home with dementia. You're the only one extant and lucid."
"Those are the ones you think did it? Them and me?"
Al Speer didn't change his expression. Jerry handed the folder back to him.
"The gold in one of those trucks was worth over two million," he said. "On top of the cash and other loot. So thirteen million in twenty-year-old
dollars. By the way Billy Brawner is dead. He lived about a year after he got out of prison."
"I haven't kept up with that stuff," Jerry said, "but when you said he was a fence I figured it."
"He never told anything either. Someone took good care of him while he was in prison. Kept his commissary account topped off,
he could bribe other inmates and the guards. He had as good a life as one can have in prison. He didn't blame you."
Never stop trying. And it wasn't my fault he got caught on something unrelated to us. But I took care of him to be sure.
Apparently they were never able to trace any of the money or other stuff.
"There's someone I'd like for you to talk to," Speer said. "Tomorrow about nine or so. She will be carrying a duplicate of this
card."
He'd like me to? No threats? Something up.
He handed Jerry a business card. An FBI agent card. Jerry turned it over. Apparently written with purple marker
were the characters 'F-204'.
"Twenty-one-hundred or oh-nine-hundred?"
"In the morning," Speer replied. "Here."
Jerry watched Agent Speer walk to his grey Chevy Trax and drive away. Looked down at his Explorer. Almost noon and he was pretty sure
that Speer had seen it peeking out under the cuff of his shirt sleeve. He didn't know of FBI agents were necessarily knowledgeable enough to tell if
a Rolex was real.
Whatever. He knows I'm loaded but has no idea how much. The government knows about over ten million in cash and property but the gold
and silver and buried cash they know nothing about. What they knew about was so legit that going after him would cost more than they
would recover. Unless the satisfaction of putting him in prison became more attractive.
He didn't like to think about that but there was always the last-ditch option. He could disappear and live off-grid for as long as he wanted
without giving up any of the luxury he had become accustomed to. One of the benefits of being part of a League Freehold. A special part - he
was a deep-cover agent and had minimal contact with his outfit. One of their contingency operators.
The Explorer said it was 1039 and that was good enough. What else was he going to do for the rest of the day? If a prospective customer came
by - a rare event when it was known that thirty thousand was the low end of his inventory. And Miranda could handle those. Time for a smoke and
a drink.
Drinking before noon wasn't something he did a lot but the visit by Speer had irritated him. He went into his office and buzzed Miranda.
"I'm out for the day," he said, "unless something important comes up."
Not that anything important would come up. Speer represented the only interest anyone important had in him.
Anyone at Silver Lake that needed to get hold of him had his number. The wet bar in one of the back rooms was well stocked.
Turkey? Nah, Jack neither. Ezra? Yeah.
He poured three fingers of Ezra Brooks 99 into a highball glass and added four fingers of vanilla Coke. The stuff was only available in
small bottles but that was probably just as well as it would go flat in the big ones no more than he used. Four ice cubes filled the
glass to the rim.
He put the drink on an endtable beside the La-Z-Boy and unwrapped a 4x30 Swisher. Years ago expensive whiskey and cigars had become a
distraction and he preferred a mid-range whiskey and the cigar he had enjoyed for more than forty years. He lit the cigar and took a
sip before the fist puff.
The cigar was near finished and the drink was ice water when he heard his phone. He'd left it on the desk out in the office. He didn't
get many calls and didn't make many - you pay people to do that. Still this wasn't a normal day. He got up to check.
Lizard. What's she up to?
Elizabeth Anne Reynolds hated being called Lizzie and tolerated Liz but a few close friends called her Lizard. He hadn't seen her in...
a few weeks. He wouldn't mind seeing her more often but... he tapped the call button.
"Yes m'lord. How can I be of service?"
"Dunno, you called me."
"So I did. Now why would I do that? I must be terribly bored."
"That would be my guess."
"I don't suppose you'll be up this way any time soon?"
"Depends on where this way is. Up would probably be Jonesboro."
"I'm staying here for a bit. You know where my condo is."
"The one you're leasing from the guy that lives in Saudi Arabia? Or was it Qatar?
"The UAE but actually he's back in Europe now and in any case I extended the lease for two years."
"Those things are getting old," Jerry said.
"They keep them in good shape. In the time I've been here I've had only a couple of minor
problems and they were fixed promptly. But you're right, nothing is forever. Jonesboro is
changing and not for the better."
"What city does?"
"None I would guess. I'll probably be looking for a place to buy but not in the city. Can
you recommend any realtors?"
"I could probably find one or two. I might find one I've used but they way they jump around
you never know. You might look up where my place is. It's likely to be untouched for a
good while."
"It is nice out there. Maybe you can show me some places. If you're not terribly busy."
"I have a meeting tomorrow," Jerry said. "It's pretty important and I don't know whether it will
affect my plans."
"How about I come down there for a visit? Assuming you're free after tomorrow."
"I'll let you know after tomorrow morning but for now I'd say it looks good."
"I hope it remains that way. I can be down by early afternoon if it's all clear."
"I'll let you know by ten or so, whichever way it goes."
"Please do, I can't wait to see you again."
He put his feet up on his desk waited, looking up at the monitor occasionally. Any vehicle entering the
lot would send a beep and visual signal. 0823 and his visitor was suppose to be there around 0900. He wondered
what the she would look like.
Forties, on the fat side. No attractive features and what do they matter if you're fat. Lesbian most likely.
He lit a gold tip and sipped black coffee as he waited. The infused stick put an edge on his perceptions without
impeding his thought process. Normally he would only use it if physical action was imminent or likely but he had
become comfotable with it. It had other uses.
He was debating whether to have a second cup wheh the monitor beeped. A car was approaching the parking area in front
of the office. 80s Jeep Wrangler looking like new. Not a government vehicle.
From where he was sitting the driver was certainly female. No way to guess age but definitely not fat. He waited for her
to arrive at the door and got up to open it.
Thirty-something most likely and tall for a woman, not much under his five ten. Willowy build but the white satin jacket
hid the details. The pen and cigarette pockets on the sleeve made it an MA-1 copy.
I've got a white one, several actually. And about a half dozen other colors. They know that about me.
She didn't remove the black Ray-Ban aviators when she entered. Long dark auburn hair below shoulder length. Tight jeans
and biker boots. Sort of, not as clunky as real ones. Three straps at the top and brass toe tips.
Someone has plenty of money to spend on clothes. Lizard is one of the few women I know that spends that much and it's
chicken feed to her.
"Herr Speer didn't give me a name to presume," Jerry said.
The sunglasses came off and she laughed. It could have been Lizard but most women who charmed him had that laugh.
Green eyes. Interesting.
"Katherine Stuart," she replied. "And not Kathy. Kat to friends."
"I guess that makes you Katherine for now," Jerry replied. "Speer said he would like for me to talk to you but didn't say what he wanted me to say.
Presumably you're supposed to start the conversation."
"What would you expect him to want you to say? Something about armored car robberies?"
"About the only thing that comes to mind. Get you a drink?"
"Sorry, I have to drive. Maybe another time."
"Is there likely to be another time?"
"It depends. Can we sit somewhere?"
"Sorry, forgot my manners. Hot women do that to me. Come on back."
The barroom had a coffee table and a couple of chairs. Katherine took off her jacket and sat down in one. She was
wearing a black turtleneck underneath and removing the jacket revealed a pistol in a crossdraw rig.
"I believe I'll have a drink," Jerry said. "Can I get you a soda or something? Got Coke and Seven-up."
"Seven-up is good."
Jerry poured a glass of Hennessy and put some ice in a glass. He set the glass and a bottle of Seven-up on the
coffee table, sat down and took a sip of brandy. Katherine opened the Seven-up and poured some into the glass.
"Quite a setup," she said. "Not that I've been in a lot of used car dealer offices."
"This is the only one I've been in," Jerry replied. "I suspect it is different."
"You're not exactly an ordinary used car dealer. I won't ask you now what your real business is but I'm pretty
sure this isn't it."
"You work for the government?"
"Not exactly. I'm a special agent of an agency you've never heard of because it doesn't have a name but I'm also part of something else.
Not part of the government."
"What does Speer want you and me to talk about?"
"Al became disillusioned with the situation long ago," Katherine said. "He continued working on your case in order to keep track of you and
see what you were up to."
"Why?"
"He doesn't like the way things are going and doesn't believe they can continue much longer. He can retire in about a year but isn't certain the government will
be around long enough for him to collect his pension. He's been making preparations and can survive but he knows you have access to a huge pile of money. And
believes you have plans for it, plans that interest him."
"That's a pretty convoluted way of getting to the point," Jerry said.
"We... he knows..."
"We? That's the problem with playing games. One slip and you're exposed."
"OK, I might as well. Al Speer is my uncle but he raised me from the time I was twelve.
My parents died in an accident and I lived with Al and his wife. She died a few years ago.
Being in the FBI you learn a lot of things and Al looked into a lot of things, some of which he
probably wasn't supposed to. Things that the FBI was interested in but were particular about who
worked on them. Category 9."
"How many categories are there?"
"There aren't any officially. There are divisions for differenty types of crimes but
Cat 9 is just a code name for a set of special projects."
"You seem to know a lot about the FBI. Uncle Al talk a lot?"
"Probably no more than most people talk about their work to friends and family. OK,
in recent years may be a little more."
"What's in Cat 9?"
"Stuff related to anti-government activities. Militias, extremists, stuff like that."
"That's a super secret category?"
Not all of it - just certain ones."
Jerry took a sip of his drink and took a cigar case out of a pocket and removed a Al Capone cognac flavored
cigarillo and lit it. Some of the people he associated with smoked and some didn't but no one ever asked for
approval - there was no need.
"Somewhat," Katherine replied. "The Cat 9 guys do special ops. You've probably seen some even if you didn't
know it but in at least some cases you probably did."
"How would I know?"
"The neo-Nazi demonstrations? White supremacist marches?"
"We always figured those were government," Jerry said. "So fucking transparent I suspected they wanted us to know."
"We? The high-dollar used car dealers association?"
Jerry had to laugh. Whatever was coming was probably going to be interesting if nothing else.
Katherine smiled too.
"Shall I get to the point?" she asked.
"Might as well."
"Al is retiring in about a year," said Katherine. "He became disillusioned yeas ago but stayed around partly for the retirement - for whatever
that might be worth - and to learn more about things like Cat 9. They have some info on groups like yours and others but much. But it was
enough to get a rough picture. Al wants to be involved."
"Assuming there is some kind of organization - resistance or something like that - an FBI agent showing up and wanting to join might just
be too ridiculous to not be legit. But somehow I suspect whoever they are - if they are - isn't likely to fall for it."
"Obviously. But it's real."
"Why come to me?"
"You didn't ask to see the card," Katherine said holding it up.
"Yeah. Forgot that. Somehow he knows about a storage unit on the south side of Jacksonville. What else does he know?"
"Pieces," Katherine replied. "Some gold and silver coins were stashed there for a while. And the entire facility is a
phantom - it's not open to the public and always appears to be undergoing repairs. And has armed security 24/7."
"He never did anything with that information?"
"No, but at the time it wasn't worth much on its own. He didn't put it into the record but continued to investigate.
Eventually he identified the owner - a shell company that owned several other interesting properties. One of them
was a property here that was sold to you a couple of years ago. The Parkside condos that opened up a couple of
months ago. Owned by Parker Investments and you're the senior vice president. Is Parkside a phantom site?"
"Someone seems to know a good bit about me," Jerry said. "Not that it helps much with the case except to make a
tenuous possible connection to me. Doesn't connect me to the other thing."
"The robberies?" Katherine laughed, that laugh that reminded him of Lizard. "Al stopped being interested in those
years ago, except for the connection to you. He found what you were doing more interesting. And with your confederates
dead of permanently incapacitated - if you split the loot your part would be a few million twenty years ago. It would
be about twice as much now."
"Why is he interested in me?"
"As I said, your other activities."
"This agency," said Jerry, "or the something else. Am I likely to have encountered either one?"
"Probably, the government one anyway. That little affair just over a year ago, in Vegas. Ring
any bells?"
"The ones that bugged my hotel room or the ones that tried to abduct me at the Catalina?"
"It was the same ones. You never did figure out who it was?"
"Nope. I figured maybe government goons since they're the only ones likely to be after us. Why they grabbed me I
don't know but guessed they wanted to do some creative interrogation."
"I may tell you about it one day," said Katherine. "You're right - they would like to know what you were up to. I
do know - Bronze Bishop."
"Do you know that from you government gig or your other..."
"Other. Interested now?"
"Interested in knowing who you are and what you're up to, if only for threat evaluation. I'll have to check with some
people."
"That makes sense," Katherine said. "We're no threat and potential allies. Things are getting serious and we both need
to know where we stand. You've got four cameras in here and all high-quality audio. Video of my vehicle, DNA on the glass.
Anything else I can do for you?"
She stood up and picked up her jacket. Gave him a cool almost smile.
"I believe that should do for now. How about we talk in a couple of days?"
"That should work. Go ahead with your date tomorrow but we need to talk soon.
I may know some things that you don't and there may not be as much time as you
think."
She smiled and with a thumb hooked under the collar of her jacket draped it over her
shoulder and went out.
Damn! I didn't see Al planting anything yesterday. The phone? It's not secure but
that's pretty fancy - tapping me that quick. She does work for the government though.
Big question is what the fuck is Al up to? He on the level?
He had another glass of brandy and another cigarillo before doing anything. The pieces either
fit together enough for it to be a setup or for it to be real. That could be dangerous.
He put the usb stick in and rebooted the computer with it. When it was up he logged in and opened the
dozen or so windows and the terminal. He would be needing that. He tried Harry McCammon at Mantis.
'Harry is indisposed at the moment. Next expected availability is thirty-one minutes,' the app replied.
0820 and he's either already occupied or hasn't showed up for work yet. Guessing it's the latter - never
knew him for a slacker.
'Have him contact me ASAP', Jerry replied.
He spent the next half hour on Al Speer's files. There wasn't much in there besides records of their encounters over
twenty or so years and occasional information from other sources. There wasn't much to indicate that he was doing
anything other than doggedly pursuing a hopeless case.
Except for this. Yeah, that was weird.
Three years earlier Speer had called at his place, accompanied by two agents. The agents looked around giving the
place a good examination while Speer made small talk. He and Marianne had been out back shooting and both were carrying
their B&H shotguns.
"Interesting," Speer commented. "Who makes those?"
"FBI man doesn't know his weapons?" Jerry asked.
"That's not one I'm familar with," replied Speer.
"B&H is a small company," Jerry said. "Some AR types and handguns. These are 20-gauge shotguns with twenty round drum mags. There's a 12-gauge version
as well but the twenty is lighter and pretty effective for the intended use."
"What's the intended use?"
Marianne's espression was amusing. Jerry wondered if Speer was serious.
"Defense," he replied. "What else?"
"You're something of a prepper," Speer said. "One of the local organizations?"
"What does that have to do with your investigation?"
"Probably nothing. I might be interested in having one."
"They advertise some," Jerry said. "In the prepper media. I can probably set you up if you're
serious."
"Maybe later."
He had pretty much forgotten it but Speer's interest in the weapon was out of the ordinary. Was he
thinking that way back then?
A message box appeared on the screen, accompanied by a beep from the speakers.
'What's up Jerry?'
'Can you go to the Carnwennan net?'
'Can do. Give me five.'
While he waited Jerry shook a gold tip out of the pack and lit it. After a while a beep sounded and a message appeared on the green screen.
'OK, we're secure. What's happening?'
'Alfred Speer. The FBI guy that's been chasing me for twenty years. Says he wants to bail on the government and
hook up with the resistance.'
'You got 30 seconds to tell me you're joking.'
Jerry waited.
'OK, we need to meet. How soon can you be here?'
'Here as in the Citadel?'
'Affirmative.'
Liz ain't gonna like it.
'I can be there by noon.'
'I'll have lunch ready. See you later.'`
It was time to call Lizard. Some people apparently don't care that others have personal lives. Or try to.
"Yes m'lord?"
"Bad news. Something came up. Boss man needs me. I'll try to make it a one day affair. If I can
is day after tomorrow good?"
"You know me - idly rich. I'll find some way to entertain myself until you get back."
"I don't doubt you will. Sometimes when I'm really bored I just sleep all day. Time passes fast."
"I may try that. When do you have time to sleep all day?"
"Need you ask?"
"No. Love you madly, come back soon."
"Will do."
The Citadel was only two hours away but Jerry got up early. Couple of cups of coffee and a
cigar while checking the messages and looking at the news. Presidential election two months off
and it wasn't looking good for the good guys.
Give them three or four months with their man in and they'll make the move. And if you don't know what all Hell
breaking loose looks like stick around and watch. Speer might well be serious about wanting to
switch sides - he was looking at it from the inside.
Miranda and Minerva were parked side by side in left two stalls of the garage. He hadn't driven either in a few days
but driving one up to the Citadel wouldn't be smart. The Bronco would also attract a certain amount of attention but
the grey-green Escape would blend with eighty percent of the traffic. Not that he minded driving it - new cars were
full of gadgets and unnecessary features that broke as reliably as the worked but were easy to drive.
He tossed the overnight bag in the back and got in. If he actually stayed overnight there had better be a good reason
or someone was going be unhappy.
The first leg was flat roads over the floodplain. 193 to 49 and the bypass around Jonesboro. The Commpad was powered on
and resting on the passenger seat. He plugged a usb stick into the sound system. It had the first ten Alan Parsons Project
in alphabetical order so he should arrive at his destination during Eye in the Sky or thereabouts.
Thorn probably didn't sleep much last night. If Speer is legit this could be big. Wish I could dump it his lap but I'm already
in. For about twenty years.
Jonesboro sat on the the edge of the flood plain and the twisty 361 ran most of the way th his destination. Jerry hated roads like
that, traffic was heavy and every few seconds he was meeting a vehicle coming from the other direction. Many of them trucks.
Stay calm and close to the right and be alert.
He often considered that he was a little paranoid. Wrecks were uncommon even on such roads but it only took one.
At just over two hours he turned onto County Road 358. It was a decent tar and pea gravel road with little traffic.
He punched the reset on the trip meter. The entrance was 1.4 miles and hard to see if you didn't know where to look.
OK, slow down. Just past a bridge over a small creek. There.
The area was heavily wooded and the entrance wasn't apparent to unknowing passersby. He turned into the drive and stopped. The
road was blocked by an enormous fallen tree. He waited until one end of the tree began to rise. Once it nearly vertical
high he drove past it and continued up the road.
The Citadel didn't look impressive from the outside and wasn't meant to. There was a lot underground and what was visible
was intended to look uninteresting and certainly non-threatening. The road led through a group of metal buildings to a
much larger one with a fence around it. The gate was open and he paused long enough for the guards to wave him through. A
handful of vehicles near the entrance. Not many for a building of that size but there weren't that many people in there. He
parked a couple of spaces away from a Vietnam-era jeep and got out.
The plain metal building had two sets of glass doors like an office building. Inside was a receptionist desk. The receptionist
was a young woman in a plain khaki uniform.
"Hi Jerry," the receptionist said. "Go on up. Harry is in his office."
Harry's office was on the top floor and there were no elevators. Jerry walked slowly up the two flights of stairs, knowing that
Harry had noted his arrival.
I should stop and wait a couple of minutes, he thought mischievously, but Harry probably isn't in the mood.
Actually he wasn't looking forward to the meeting. If Harry was worried he should be worried, or soon would be.
Harry's office was down the hall after a right turn at the top of the stairs. Jerry knew that the entire third floor was restricted
and you didn't go up there unless authorized by Harry.
Authorized sounds better than summomed but that's about the size of it.
The doors were closed but he could see Harry at his desk. He opened a door and walked in. Harry looked annoyed.
"What the fuck happened to security?" he asked.
"Beats me," Jerry replied. "I don't work here."
"Nevermind," Harry said. "I sent him down to Communications a while ago. We're shorthanded here - grab a seat."
A couple of chairs were close enough to the desk that Jerry could put his feet up on the desk while seated and he did so.
Harry looked annoyed again.
"Want a drink?" he asked.
Jerry looked at his watch.
"It's after ten," Harry said. "You start drinking earlier than that."
"When I feel like it," Jerry replied. "And I suspect I'm about to feel like it."
Harry got up and went to the end of the large room. Jerry knew there was a wet bar there.
"Turkey, Jack, Beam," he said. "Whatever you want. We're set up good and if things go south you'll be able to get your
favorite here for a good while."
"Good idea," Jerry replied. "I've got a good stash myself. Turkey's good."
He followed Harry and they poured drinks and returned to the desk. Jerry lit one of his custom cigarettes.
"It may be hard to get those," Harry commented, "if things go south."
"Maybe, maybe not. I only smoke one or two a day, sometimes none. And I get the contents from Mexico and that
will probably remain viable."
"Maybe," Harry agreed. "We have contingency plans for getting stuff from Mexico."
The cigarette contained a small amount of cannabis and a lot of people smoked them occasionally to put an edge on. Problem
was if the edge collapsed at a bad time. Another reason Jerry didn't do it.
"Gonna tell me what the rush is?" he asked. "Apparrently not enough to send a chopper to land on my front lawn."
"Sorry about that," Harry said. "I think you'll agree it was pretty urgent. We have an interest in Speer."
"Obviously. Is your interest urgent?"
"I needed to with you before you went any further. We've been monitoring him for years. You're not the first contact he's made - he's been
nosing around - prepper groups, dissident organizations - but when they make him as a fed the shields go up."
"You must have known he was after me."
"We did," Harry replied. "We were wondering if, or when, he would approach you. It seems he has."
"You know how our latest meeting went?"
"No, I figured you'd tell me."
"He came by yesterday and did the usual probe, the armored car robbery stuff, and then he gave me his card with something written on it
and told me to expect a visitor with a duplicate."
"What was on the card?"
"The number of a storage unit that someone used to stash some of the loot from one of the armored car robberies."
"He was pretty sure he knew who did it," said Harry. "But he never could figure out how it was done. When he was looking for a connection to us
he figured you might be a link."
"Want to know who my visitor was?"
"Katherine Stuart," Harry replied.
"I didn't get the last name," Jerry said. "Just that I better not call her Kathy."
"She's feisty," Harry said with a grin. "Smart as a whip and tough as old tree roots mentally at least.
And not half bad in a scrap."
"How do you know her?"
"Never met her," Harry replied. "But she's been on our radar along with her uncle - I'll send you her dossier.
Meanwhile... what's the situation with you and her?"
"She wants to talk soon. Presumably she'll make contact since she knows where I am and I have no idea where she is."
"We know where she lives," Harry said. "And everywhere she goes. If you hadn't called me yesterday I would have called
you within a couple of hours. For now go ahead and wait for her to contact you."
"It'll be a couple of days at least," Jerry said. "She knows I have a date tomorrow. And I didn't tell her."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"A few minutes after Speer left I called Lizard to tell her I couldn't make it and rescheduled for tomorrow.
She knew. Someone has me wired."
"No us," Harry said. "We were watching Katherine."
"I need to get that taken care of," said Jerry. "Anything else you need before I head back?"
"I planned for you to stay over, go over some things with Jackson Miller but he's not back yet."
"If you did have me bugged you'd have known I had a date," said Jerry. "But anyway I have to get back and
this taken care of."
"Yeah. Contact me when you meet with Katherine again. I'll try to have Jackson here next time you come."