“We’re gonna need it. We’re leaving at first light.” Not even measuring the coffee grounds, he just dumped them into the filter, put the filter in the pot, then plugged it in.
“I’m asking again! What the hell are you talking about?!” Grant started to respond, when Adler put up both hands. “Wait a minute! I have a feeling you might be yakkin’ your jaws for a while.” He walked to the fridge. “Let’s eat! How about some bacon and eggs?”
“Yeah. Sure,” Grant answered with a grin through perfect white teeth. “I’ll make the toast. Where’s the peanut butter?”
As the smell of bacon drifted throughout the apartment, Grant started talking, and he kept talking right through breakfast. He was like a kid who’d just gotten a peek at his Christmas presents.
He tore off a corner of toast smeared with peanut butter, then wiped up remaining egg yolk from the dish. “So. Whadda ya think?” he asked before popping the bread into his mouth.
Adler picked up his coffee cup. “What do I think?! Didn’t I tell you this shit was in our DNA?!”
“I guess that means it’s a ‘go’ then?”
“Damn straight it’s a go!” Adler eyed the last half of toast in a saucer. “Are you gonna eat that?”
“It’s all yours,” Grant laughed as he pushed his chair back. He picked up his dish and fork, then put them in the sink. Tossing the balled up napkin in the trash can, he turned and leaned back against the counter. “There’s something else, Joe, I mean, there’s somebody else.”
Adler put his dish in the sink, then turned on the hot water and squeezed in some dish soap. “Who?”
“Our contact at State. It’s… it’s Scott Mullins.”
Adler turned slowly. “You don’t mean… ”
“Yeah. Tony’s brother.”
“Christ! Did you know he had a brother?”
Grant walked back into the living room and went near the window. Sunlight was starting to cast a glow across the horizon. He continued looking toward the skyline, as he answered, “Yeah, but he only mentioned Scott in passing. He never told me what he did, or where he worked, just that he did a lot of work out of the country.”
Grant glanced at his watch, then turned around. “C’mon, Joe. Get dressed. We’ve gotta hit the road. I’ll tell you more on the way.”
Adler walked past him, asking over his shoulder, “Where the hell are we going?”
“We need to give that property a thorough inspection in daylight. I’m positive there’s more out there than what I saw last night.”
“So, have you become a magician, too?” Adler asked, as he watched the gate automatically swing back.
“There’s an electric eye under the bumper. From what I’ve been told, there’s one for all the vehicles.”
Grant turned the Vette off the driveway, following a recently plowed path around the right side of the house, leading to another garage with three doors. He stopped in front of the left one, then pushed a button on a small garage door opener on his key ring. All three doors simultaneously lifted. He and Adler got out of the car, noticing two large generators to the left side of the building.
Parked inside were two brand new Chevy Suburbans. Both were black with four-doors. Each vehicle had wide, steel-belted radial tires. They were fully equipped, with a few extra options installed: 454 engines; bullet-proof glass; reinforced roofs, door panels, and undercarriages; and security systems. In the end parking space were two Zodiacs, lined up one behind the other.
“I’m really beginning to like your friends!” Adler laughed, as they started walking around the Suburbans.
Grant let his eyes roam the interior of the garage, commenting, “There’s gotta be another space somewhere.”
“For what?”
“They had to think about our special gear, Joe — the explosive kind. Matt probably gave some feedback when this was being built.” He started walking the inside perimeter. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can find where it is.”
Starting from opposite ends, they worked their way toward the middle, but found nothing. Then Adler got down on a knee, and looked under the vehicles. “You got keys to the Chevys?”
“What’d you find?”
“Looks like there’s some sort of cover under this one; can’t tell what it is.”
Grant backed the vehicle out of the garage.
“I’d say this is what you were looking for,” Adler said, pointing. Embedded in the concrete was a door that was similar to one on an armored truck. “Have any idea what the combination is?”
Grant pulled off his gloves, as he stared down at the lock. He hadn’t been given any combination. Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to think of everything discussed during his meeting with the three men. Dates, times, anything with numbers.
Then Adler saw the grin, and he said, “Okay. This I’ve gotta see.”
Grant knelt down and started dialing. When he stopped, he motioned with his hand. “Care to give it a try?”
“Get the hell outta here!” Adler reached for the handle and pulled. “Shit!” Looking up at Grant, he asked, “Gonna tell me?”
Grant stood. “The date I graduated BUD/S.”
Adler pulled the door back on its hinges. “You can actually remember that far back?” he smirked.
Grant ignored the comment. “Looks like another door down there. I don’t see a light switch. See if there’s a flashlight in the glovebox.”
He stood at the top of the metal stairs, when suddenly, a light on the sidewall turned on. “Must be a timer when the door opens.”
Adler stood behind him. “You’ve gotta have two keys for each of those,” he pointed. Two mortise-type locks were set into the door.
Grant sorted through the keys, separating four that were similar in size. He unlocked the door.
They went into an empty room. It was at least twenty-by-twenty. Adler scoped out the area, looking at the overhead and sidewalls, finally commenting, “Ya know, this looks like one of those specially made storage magazines. They must’ve dropped it into this hole,” he said, as he motioned with his arms, “then built around it.”
“Think you’re right, Joe.”
“More than enough space to hold det cord,” Adler said with a laugh.
“Guess we’ve seen enough,” Grant said as he started up the stairs.
With everything locked and the garage doors closed, they got back in the Vette, and Grant backed the car down the path, and parked in front of the house.
Adler got out, took a couple of steps, then he slowly made a one-eighty as he commented, “It sure is quiet out here.”
“Quiet’s good. I’m meeting with Scott tonight, so you and I have gotta put our heads together and come up with a team. We’ll start with at least five names, and maybe a few extra in case we get turned down by somebody.”
“You actually think any of those guys would?”
“People change, Joe. Families could make a difference.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Then I guess this’ll be our meeting place?”
“Affirmative. Oh, one more thing. When we’re through here, we’ll take a ride to an airfield not far from this place. There’s a C-130 and a Gulfstream waiting for us.” The aircraft had Grumman’s U.S. military designation C-11. The basic airfoils for the main area of the wing were similar to those of the A-6 Intruder. It can accommodate up to 14 passengers, and is powered by two Rolls-Royce Spey turbofan engines. Its max speed is 581 mph; cruising speed 483 mph; range 3,680 miles.
“Jesus! How the hell much money do your friends have?!”
“Don’t think we could count that high!”
Looking at Grant as Grant unlocked the front door, Adler had to laugh. “You’re enjoying this shit, aren’t you?”