Homegrown

By Steven Roberts

The Secret Service task force must find out who the bad guys are and end their spree of murder and mayhem across the nation. The culprits are well funded and seem unstoppable. Surprises and twists to the story abound in this action adventure crime tome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steven Roberts
• Release date: May 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9780984945245

Steven Roberts

Writing: Steve has written eight books, non-fiction books, action adventure novels and an anthology of short stories, poems and songs. He has spoken to groups about surviving cancer, the challenges of entrepreneurship, and writing books, as well as presentations of his books.Community: Steve is currently Chairman of the Dearborn Library Foundation and works with Habitat for Humanity in Florida. He is the founder of authors’ clubs in Florida and Michigan.Personal: Steve worked in the automotive industry in Europe and Detroit, later operating his own management consulting firm. Steve and two partners also built and operated a golf course near Jackson, Michigan. Steve and his wife, Jane, live in Dearborn, Michigan and spend winters at Kensington CC in Naples, Florida. They have four married children and twelve grandchildren.

Book preview

Homegrown

By

Steven L. Roberts

The following was inspired by true events.

Homegrown

Copyright 2011

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-0-9849452-4-5

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

By

Steven L. Roberts, All rights reserved

www.stevenlroberts.com

Summary

The Secret Service task force must find out who the bad guys are and end their spree of murder and mayhem across the nation. The culprits are well funded and seem unstoppable. Surprises and twists to the story abound in this action adventure crime tome.

Also by Steven L. Roberts

Wildflowers

The President’s Own

The Proscenium Conspiracy

The Jericho Papers

The Lake

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 1

Now, what was that you were saying about why you’re here in my town tonight, the bleary eyed youth asked, because you know I’m in a mood to hurt you...right. The youth pulled his long blade, folding knife from his hip pocket. He opened the knife as if he did so according to a practiced ritual. The opening seemed obscene in the method used by the youth, one-step from a display in erotic attraction.

The Agent stared at the glistening blade. He nodded and gave as much effort at pulling the bonds around his wrists as he could with his rapidly fading strength, Yeah, the agent nodded, So are you going to talk me to death or put me out of misery at having to listen to you...you asshole?

You’re talking your life away, I’m warning you for the last time, and it doesn’t have to be this way. Now tell me what I want to know and I will make it easy on you. I can make death come as if you were just falling asleep. Painless in death as painless can be. That is what anyone would say about how you died if anyone knew about it. Wouldn’t that be a whole lot better than a lot of suffering I’ll make you experience if you don’t tell me what I want to know?

Ass hole, you’re getting nothing from me. However, you remember what I’m telling you now; Whatever happens here, will make all the difference in how you wind up. And make no mistake, you’re gonna pay the ultimate price for what you do. My family will come and they will send you straight to hell.

See, there you go again with that acting like all those others from the big city, who think they’re better’n us. You spew out that puke and think it will scare me. Okay, you win. I gave you a chance. All of you big city boys think you can come down here and say anything you want and we’re too damn stupid to figure out your bullshit. Well I got bad news for you Mex, we have you boys all figured out and you lose. A smile cracked across the youth’s face.

It was the smile. It told the agent it was all over. The smile told him the youth was ready and willing act. Then the Agent did all he could; He slid his ring off his finger with the tip of his thumb, letting it fall to the soft dirt below. Once on the ground, the Agent led his heel, pushing the ring into the dirt, hidden from view. An avenging force would come and eventually find it, which was true. His family would never let the murder of one of their own go unpunished. That thought gave him solace in his final seconds.

It came as a swift, powerful thrust, ending as the blade sliced its way deep into Julio’s body. The hand on the knife then pulled the blade in a quick upward jerk. The Agent kept his eyes fixed in a cold contemptuous stare, as his life quickly drained from his body, his final act of defiance went barely noticed.

Don’t just stand there looking at him Patrick, we gotta get him cut down from that tree and get rid of his body. You know Peter is waiting now. Move it, ordered Wayne. Then he went about cutting the Agent’s body down, with it tumbling into the waiting plastic bag now placed under the body.

The youthful killer cleaned off his knife and continued to stare at the body. He never stopped staring me down Wayne. He kept those damn eyes burning a hole clean through me. I felt like he was putting some mean spell on me. You think he did that Wayne? Could he have put some spell on me that would make me do something that will get me killed? I’m already feeling something bad is going to happen. I have shivers up and down my back. I once heard a Mex can put a spell on you. Do you believe that?

I don’t really know what to believe about that, Patrick. I guess it is possible. I once heard some of those folks over in Baton Rouge put spells on people.

Did they work? Did the spells work on someone?

Wayne nodded, I heard they did.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Wayne shook his head as he stared at the body. I think you might be screwed Patrick.

Patrick nodded, I think so too, shit.

Seriously, you give it too much thought. It don’t mean nothing. He’s dead as dead gets. Spells don’t work if the person putting a spell on you dies, now do they, Patrick?

Then it’s not a spell…Wayne.

Wayne grunted, There you have it then. What’s the problem?

Patrick shook his head, still staring at the corpse, "Then it’s a curse.

You really think he felt much Patrick?

Patrick shrugged, Probably, as the blade sliced through everything inside.

The other youth gave an exaggerated shiver, Don’t talk like that Patrick. It makes me shudder.

Better get over being so weak Wayne, there’s no room for you being faint hearted, Patrick said with a laugh.

What did he say Patrick? I thought I heard him sputter something out before he died.

He did. Something to try to scare us, I guess. Then he finally gasped a name...Roger...it sounded like that...maybe...

It’s not your first kill, Patrick. You’ll get over it soon I guarantee you, the consoling Wayne said as he interrupted."

That damn stare, Wayne. It was scary.

Get over it, Patrick, we’re late. You know the schedule.

We have to take care of the body, that’s going to take some time Wayne.

Too much time dick head.

So what Wayne, we have to do it like we were told.

Wayne shook his head, Peter is going to be mad if we’re late. For now, we’ll just dump the body out between the camps. You tell the others we handled it like they told us...okay?

Okay, but why so close?

It is so simple, it’s because this property is the backside of the fields where most of the guards patrol. No one else will ever get close to the camp on this side of the lake, or into any of the fields, without attracting some attention. We can get it later.

Chapter 2

Wayne and Patrick arrived back at the farm. See, the vans are already loaded, whined Wayne, Now we’re late, like I was afraid of.

An authoritative voice rang out, Hurry up you two.

Wayne whispered at Patrick as they ran, See, some of drivers in the vans and the escort vehicles are already starting up their vehicles, dumb shit. That’s why I wanted to leave the body for now, Wayne whispered.

Okay-okay. Don’t call me that again, Patrick yelled back.

Alright Patrick, you go with the VAN ONE to Chicago. Wayne, you’re going with me in VAN TWO to St. Louis, ordered Peter while scurrying about.

Peter stopped at VAN ONE and gave the van and its chase car a fast going over. Are you still sure about you going on this mission? It’s not too late to have an alternate go instead.

Jonathan shook his head, Wouldn’t miss it.

Peter nodded and picked up his briefcase. He put it on the hood of a chase car. He took out the thick envelopes and handed them to each man. Once done he tossed the briefcase out of his way. I want everyone take out your maps and itinerary. Study the plans for your identity change. Rehearse the changes until you have it so memorized anyone will believe you. Got it? He waited a moment and looked around at his men. Anyone have any questions about when we hit the cities? There were no questions. Good enough then. We go teach the bastards we know how to do the job right. But first, let’s have a quick prayer.

Everyone quickly formed around Peter and Johnathan. Lord grant us the strength and wisdom to end the terror of the beast now controlling our nation and destroying the freedoms that you intended your creatures to enjoy. Guide us in the destruction of the enemy. Amen. Peter looked around from his prayer and noticed everyone was following along with him. He was pleased. It’s time to leave and execute the plan, gentlemen. Good luck to us all.

Each van with its escort quietly pulled out of the small town, heading in the direction of each of the vans’ four destination cities.

Should we be going this fast Peter, the voice broke the silence with the scrambled transmission over the radio. I mean...is it safe, asked the worried voice of a driver ahead of Peter.

I told you before you knucklehead, without fuses installed, that crap is safe as a bag of firecrackers.

I thought this explosive was a whole lot more than just firecracker stuff, the same voice said with a slight tone of humor. It is, isn’t it, Peter?

It is. It’s probably one of the most powerful explosives made. Just remember, it will not explode without having the proper fusing installed. Right now it’s nothing more than a bunch of chemicals, Peter answered trying to ease the fears of his men.

Okay, it’s just that it’s a lot of stuff to take any chances with and it still scares me...you know what I mean?

The drivers settled down for their trips to St. Louis, Chicago, and to New York City. VAN FOUR, heading to Los Angeles, had departed twenty-four hours earlier. Timing was critical. The course design allowed for the simultaneous arrival of each vehicle at the targeted city, at the same exact time, the most critical aspect of the bold mission now in progress.

VAN TWO

Peter’s chase car and his van merged into the early morning traffic traveling onto the interstate for Macon, Georgia. Peter thought about how the results of their plans would affect every person living in the nation. He was anxious to accomplish such a statement. He knew only a rigorous adherence to their plan would prevent their arrest before the mission, or after. He had no desire to find himself languishing in prison for years, awaiting a death sentence, for expressing his political and philosophical views so directly.

Later the same day, Peter pulled to the side of the road.

Are we here already, asked one of the men.

Peter nodded, We’re here.

Two of the men searched both sides of the road. Where is it? All I see is thick brush and trees. I don’t see anything else.

Peter laughed at the man’s observation, Well if you could see it from the road, anyone could see it right? Would that be good for us, or our movement? Now watch the road ahead.

A man walked out into the road and waived, That’s our sign. Peter’s two vehicles pulled into a secluded compound surrounded by tall trees. An impenetrable wall of ivy covered all of the trees. It shielded the innocuous looking compound from the eyes of outsiders or those who might hazard an inquisitive and dangerous peek.

About time you got here, Bubba said while he closed the gates behind the pair of vehicles. Others have already reported in at their assigned checkpoints. Everything’s going fine so far, how about with you?

Good so far. They’re on schedule then, asked Peter as he put a submachine gun down on the hood of the late model Crown Victoria.

To the minute, Bubba said, as he opened up the van’s roll up rear door. Son of a gun, look at all that explosive. I never knew the whole world had this much in any one place. What is it, about six thousand pounds? Looks like that much.

It is smart ass, Peter snorted, it’s exactly six thousand pounds.

Bubba nodded, Well then that should be more than enough to get the job done.

It’ll make dust out of the target, total dust. Now, get on the stick and do your job while we stretch out.

Peter and the rest of his St. Louis team entered the bunkhouse, a small living quarters for up to ten men. The large coffee pot was already beginning to perk. The men sat, waiting for the coffee to finish.

Bubba went to the barn and returned with his electric golf cart full of prepared fuses; all custom designed and built in the barn. Every fuse, carefully installed into one box of the extremely powerful explosive, linked together through a series of connections. All fuses, once properly linked, used a specially designed detonating system that allowed for one control box connection at any loose end. After several hours, the job was completed. Bubba sat back and admired his handiwork with his helper. My best work sits before my eyes.

The helper nodded, It is amazing to look at. Can anyone take all of that work apart?

Bubba laughed and shook his head, It has to be detonated, and there is no way to disable it. A single interruption anywhere in the system will make the damned thing fire.

The helper chuckled, There has to be a way. Some hotshot somewhere could come up with a way, I’ll bet. Anything can be taken apart, somehow.

Bubba laughed and pointed at the fuses, Say you pick that fuse right there. You try to break down the epoxy coating to get to the printed circuit inside. Boom! Say you cut any or all wires at the same time, then it’s a boom as well.

Acid, said the helper as he blurted out his solution. Drop the whole thing in acid, truck and bomb. The helper laughed. What about that?"

Bubba shook his head. Wrong. You could never get every single fuse immersed at exactly the same split second. Miss just one fuse and it will still go boom. The fuse alone has so much explosive in it that it would cause a huge explosion. No, once that firing mechanism is set, the bomb is going to go boom.

The helper shook his head, You scare the shit out of me with your designs. Where did you learn to be so devious?

Bubba laughed, Would you believe it’s from my years at MIT and then working for the U.S. government?

I heard rumors like that. I just wanted to hear it from you.

That’s where I met Peter, MIT. He’s a lot smarter than people give him credit. You might want to remember that. Now we go.

I’ll try not to forget.

Bubba rolled down the van’s rear roll-up door and installed the big padlock into the van’s handle locking mechanism. He walked into the bunkhouse and handed Peter one remote control device.

It’s all done? asked Peter as he took the device and gave it a quick inspection.

It is.

"So it works as we discussed?

‘It does. All of the devices given to your crews are exactly as this one."

I caution you, do not open the rear door again or you’ll blow the whole works to hell, Bubba instructed as he pointed to buttons on the device. Punch in your access code there, and the remote is fully armed. Once you have entered that code, the device becomes impossible to armed, ever. You either blow the target on schedule, or pick a place to destroy, because come the set time, the van is history, along with anything close.

What if someone tries to get into the van? Peter asked.

No matter how they cut the skin of the van, now, she’ll blow. I put so many features into that system there’s no way to open it from now on.

You better be right about this Bubba. Otherwise, Peter warned as he shook the controller at Bubba.

Bubba touched Peter’s hand with the controller to stop his hand from moving. "I suggest you be very gentile with this controller, Peter. Remember if you activate this button, she blows.

I haven’t entered my codes yet, Bubba.

No, that doesn’t matter. Your code starts the timer according to the preprogramming I’ve already programmed into the device memory. Your code will start the timer while you’re still an hour away from the target. But if you push this button...anytime, it’s bye-bye world. Bubba still had his finger pointing to the little button.

Have the others had that explained to them?

Of course, Peter.

Why will this be any better than a truck full of explosives in the basements, Bubba, asked Wayne, the youth.

Every box contains custom designed charges, made by the manufacturer and packed with the high explosive. They’re all specially designed copper cones with their backside packed full of the explosive. Once ignited, the individual cones will direct explosive force out on specific paths we have already calculated.

Wayne snickered, Those are big targets.

Bubba chuckled, It only takes a one inch shape charge, with just the right amount of explosive, to punch a hole into most of the heaviest armor on the Army battle tanks. When everyone places those vans properly, as designed, the main support columns in the buildings fall victim to the explosive force and become severed. We can thank that by the cutting cones of our explosives. Every charge in the van takes out very specific columns. Those buildings don’t have a chance of surviving this sort an explosive attack.

Okay Bubba, said Peter. That’s enough. Are you sure your helpers will have the other three vans rigged the same way?

You can take that to the bank.

We already did, remember? The explosives and fuses alone, for just one of our vans, cost us over ten million dollars. So it had better work as advertised.

Bubba smiled and nodded at the taller man. You could have done it yourself. You had lots of good training while you were in Eastern Europe. I remember you telling me about all the explosives you worked with. This was not my plan, Peter. I just designed the shape charges and fuses, and then calculated how and where to use the explosives. All the parts of the plan I worked on will work, as advertised. But, the vans must be parked exactly according to the drawings.

Peter nodded, Then it’s a done deal, Bubba. We’ll sleep now, and leave at the crack of dawn."

VAN ONE

Johnathan, there’s a police car about a mile behind us. I must have missed seeing him parked as we passed and he’s making up the distance between us quick. Do you think maybe he’s after us or the van, asked the concerned young Patrick.

It doesn’t really matter, now does it, Johnathan replied with his attention now fixed on the approaching headlights and periodically shifting back to the road in front of him. Get me several clips out of my gear bag, Pat. It looks like you’ll be useful after all.

Johnathan eased the gas pedal back and let a wider chasm develop between him and the van he escorted.

The State Police car pulled into the gap between the two vehicles then turned its red spotlight on, lighting up the van.

Johnathan grinned and slowed to increase the gap, to keep from alerting the Trooper that the vehicles are travelling together. As the gap increased to two hundred yards, he pulled his car to the side of the road and stopped.

The van driver, having noticed that the chase car stopped, then pulled over to the side of the road.

Now Pat! whispered Johnathan.

Patrick slid his hand under a blanket on the rear seat, pulling out the 7 mm magnum rifle with a 3x9 power scope. He adjusted the scope for 4x power, then handed it to Johnathan.

Johnathan let the rifle to rest upon the now open car door. He sighted the rifle on the roof top light of the Trooper’s car as the Trooper pulled the car over to a full stop on the shoulder of the road. He anticipated the Trooper’s next move. Johnathan watched as the Trooper’s head moved, in preparation of using his police radio. It wouldn’t happen.

What are you waiting for Johnathan, take him down, commanded Patrick in his agitated state of anxiety.

Easy killer, easy. About ready... He squeezed the trigger so gently he was almost surprised as the rifle discharges its load.

Johnathan watched as the round traveled to its target. The body of the Trooper slumped forward in the seat, but then Johnathan, still watching through his scope, noticed a movement. He cranked the scope up to seven power for a better view of the Trooper. The Trooper moved, slowly.

Shit! Johnathan yelled and slammed the car into drive, closing in the gap. He slammed on the brakes behind the Trooper, colliding with the two cars slightly. With a sub-machine gun in his hand, he leaped from his chase car and ran to the Trooper’s car. Thirty rounds from the weapon spewed its bursts of metal into the sides of the Trooper’s car as the Trooper tried to get out of the line of fire. The Trooper slumped back over into his seat, saturated in his own blood.

Johnathan stepped away from the Trooper’s car and waved at the driver in VAN ONE.

VAN ONE sped off down the dark highway.

Patrick glanced into the Trooper’s car. Shit-shit-shit, he yelled, when he noticed the dead Trooper’s hand. It held the police radio’s microphone. More will be coming…soon.

Johnathan knew he had only a few seconds, of that, he was sure. Take the wheel Patrick! Get us out of here quickly, Johnathan, ordered. He tossed a grenade into the Trooper’s vehicle before he climbed into the rear seat. Patrick pulled the car back onto the highway and sped down the dark highway.

After several minutes Patrick’s voice broke the silence, There’s now two sets of lights back there and both are coming on real fast...I mean really fast, Johnathan. What do we do now?

Johnathan thought for a moment and then sighed, I don’t think anyone saw our plates and I don’t think the one we killed had enough time to call for backup. Even if he did, I doubt he had much of a description of this car. His attention was on the van. He probably called in what information he had on the van, which wasn’t much. So I think it’ll be the van they’re after. Get your speed up. Let one of those bastards try to pass us, then I can cut him down.

The younger man yelled excitedly, Now there’s another set of headlights. It just joined in, with the others. That makes three cop cars now. This is starting to look like a big nasty mess all of a sudden, Johnathan.

We will take care of the next one just like I said. Turn off onto the first road. That will be the best place to take care of this nuisance, before he becomes a problem.

The first Trooper and second trooper approached and then passed the dead trooper’s car, while the third Trooper stopped where the Trooper died. The third trooper’s lights rejoined the chase as the escort car crested the hill, then faded from view of the second and third Trooper.

Patrick paid close attention to the terrain. He killed their lights then jerked on the emergency brake to stop without causing brake lights, I would say we’re out of sight of the last two Troopers. Take him now, the young Patrick yelled.

Johnathan held the sub-machine gun’s trigger while he sprayed a full clip of thirty rounds at the side windows of the now passing State Trooper’s car. The fast slam of another clip into the weapon allowed the resumption in the bursts of bullet’s impact upon the Trooper’s car.

I’m sure I hit that Trooper at least once! Johnathan yelled, I must have hit him, because he lost control of the car and it flew off the road. His car landed in the ditch. It landed hard, Patrick, Johnathan, yelled. I heard a loud crash back there. That cop has to be dead. But stop anyway so I can make sure he’s good and dead.

I saw it in the mirror. I agree he has to be dead. Guess you can mark another notch in you gun’s handle, Johnathan, Patrick chimed.

Patrick pulled the big sedan to a stop and quickly backed up.

Johnathan rapidly assessed the likely actions of the other Troopers, who were rapidly approaching. Johnathan rolled out of the back seat and ran to the ditch housing the patrol car. You drive up the hill and wait, Johnathan yelled. He fired two bullets into the trooper’s head and then took up a spot where he could get off a clean shot as the next Trooper entered his killing zone. The wait was short.

The next Trooper pulled off the road and slammed to a stop near the officer’s car. As he ran to the vehicle with his weapon drawn, he yelled into the microphone on his shoulder. It was easy to hear him yelling. He never said anything about the car near the hill on the highway. Yet another Trooper pulled further ahead of the second Trooper’s car. He exited his car to join the second trooper.

One of the Troopers glanced toward the chase car and then pulled his shotgun. The Trooper then walked slowly toward where Johnathan was poised, waiting for an opportunity to spring into action.

The sweat rolled down Johnathan’s face. Even his hands showed sighs of the clammy moisture. He wasn’t sure if it was the anticipation of killing these men, or the idea of killing them up so close and so very personal. Death from a distance was so easy. Explosives had made death as easy as playing a video game.

Johnathan heard the Trooper’s footsteps making soft sounds as he approached. The Trooper was allowing himself to put too much distance between himself and his car. He would pay the price for letting himself do so.

The approaching Trooper yelled at the second Trooper. Both now closed in.

Johnathan heard the asphalt rocks suddenly crunch under the Trooper’s feet, divulging his exact location. A jump and roll from the car put Johnathan four feet from the car. In the rolling motion, Johnathan threw a grenade toward where he had last heard sound. Johnathan stayed flat in the ditch where his body landed. The grenade exploded. A loud cry erupted catching the Trooper unprepared, and now hurt. Johnathan sprang from the ditch and held the trigger as ten rounds made an impact in the injured Trooper.

The last Trooper yelled and started shooting toward the car with his pistol. Johnathan used the ditch to outflank the Trooper. As the Trooper fired another salvo at the car, Johnathan crawled out of the ditch and stood then walked to the crouching Trooper.

Johnathan leveled his weapon at the officer and fired twenty bullets. The Trooper died in the ditch on the side of the highway as Johnathan sprinted back to the two Trooper vehicles. He tossed a grenade into the farthest then ran to the chase vehicle, tossing an additional grenade into the closer trooper vehicle.

As Patrick quickly accelerated while Johnathan watched both of the trooper vehicles erupt in flames as the grenades exploded.

Damn good Patty old boy, damn good, the winded Johnathan yelled as the adrenalin pumped through his body. Now get us as far away from here as fast as you can. Johnathan let himself lie back in the rear seat while he pulled his radio out of his bag and called the van now ahead of them.

This is Chaser. Change your license plates and put on the screens. Stay on the schedule. We’re back behind you but we’ll catch up pretty soon.

The van driver gave a fast response over his radio, State Route Sixty-three, he said as he turned off his present course.

Well? one of the younger members asked.

We are turning off this road and onto State Route 63. That will provide a good location to four minutes of work. He pulled the van over and parked on the dark side street to follow his orders.

David, the Chicago van driver changed the front and rear license plates already on its Velcro tape. The new license plate reflected numbers for a new and legal license. The helper began unrolling a large decal that went over the rear doors. The name on the decal agreed with the license plate owner’s name. They made their fast installation of the commercial business name to both sides of the van as well. Once finished, they drove back onto the main road and proceeded as a normal commercial.

Two minutes later, they approached a multiple car State Trooper roadblock spread across both lanes of the highway. One Trooper held his shotgun in his hands, pointing his weapon at the van. Another Trooper approached the van with his weapon drawn and pointing at the van driver.

David, the Chicago van driver already had both hands up on the steering wheel where they were plainly visible. On the dash sat the remote control device that looked much like any run of the mill garage door opener. David was ready to hit the button if circumstances dictated he should do so to eliminate all evidence of the group’s plans now in progress.

Good evening officers, what is going on?

We’re stopping all vans and trucks. There’s been some trouble, that’s all I can say. Let me see your driver’s license and registration, please.

Okay, officer, here they are, the driver handed the requested documents to the Indiana State Trooper.

So what’s an emergency medical delivery company out of Georgia doing in Indiana, the Trooper asked while walking around the van. Then he returned after seeing the large lettering and full colored decals on the rear doors. The van was brightly lit up with an excessive amount of glow tape to call attention to the van.

We transport organs for transplant, officer. We have some skin grafts to transport to Evanston, Illinois, just outside Chicago.

The trooper gave a condescending nod and smirk, Yeah, yeah...I know where Evanston is. The Trooper handed the papers back to the driver.

Then maybe you know a quicker way to get there, officer?

No, I think you’re on it. Go on, get out of here, the Trooper said as he waved them on through the roadblock.

In the escort car, after hearing the warning from the van, Johnathan put all of the weapons under some blankets, sleeping bags, and other items on the rear seat. Patrick pulled the escort car to a slow stop as the Trooper waved him to do so.

The Trooper walked around the car with his weapon out. Johnathan sat with one hand resting on the rolled down window and the other resting on the top of the seat. Patrick kept both hands up on the steering wheel.

What’s in the trunk?

Patrick gives an innocent shrug of his shoulders. A spare tire and oh yeah, a tire jack, a tire wrench, some blanket...

The Trooper held up his hand to interrupt the kid. Okay, okay kid, the Trooper laughed as he holstered his weapon, Drive safely.

The car drove off.

That was smooth, Pat, really smooth, said Johnathan. You’re going to do real well.

St Louis, Missouri

Peter, we’re one hour from St. Louis, reported Wayne.

That is okay kid, we’ll make it up. Signal Dwight in the van to pull over, ordered Peter in the St. Louis chase car.

Wayne hit the lights in two flashes and both vehicles pulled off the road at the next turn.

Peter approached the St. Louis van with a small bag in is hand, Here’s the money you give to the inside security guard. He will be expecting it the moment you pull to a stop at the basement’s parking gate. Our guy will be wearing his name tag and you will see the name we discussed. You have exactly twenty minutes to clear the structure before it explodes into oblivion. Check your watch. It is exactly sixty minutes until our scheduled blast. Don’t you dare be late in getting the van into position, just like we rehearsed.

Okay, Peter, we’ll put it in the right spot even if we have to jerk any other cars out of our spot, guaranteed Dwight, the St. Louis van driver.

If you don’t, you will have to hide under a rock the rest of our lives. You know that don’t you? Dwight nodded on hearing Peter’s warning, Yes, Of course I do. I’m not afraid of that, I just want to carry out the plans as we rehearsed. I don’t want to fail.

Peter nodded slowly, Of course I agree.

Well, what’s to prevent the guards in the buildings from taking that money and then double crossing us, Peter, asked the young Wayne, upon reentering their escort car.

The bribe money is simply to show our good faith to them. However, we already have someone in place watching that the guards keep their good faith to us and every guard knows it.

The two Los Angeles vehicles pulled into a parking lot. The driver in the van waited and watched the activities around the gates into the underground service entrance and parking lot. The van driver waited for the parking gate attendant to nod for the two vehicles to pull into the underground parking structure.

The already installed watchers observed the private security guard checking everybody driving into the structure. The guard looks nervous. Maybe he’s a little too jumpy.

The van driver put his binoculars down and turned to one of the escort vehicle drivers.

Are we sure he’s the right guard? He looked around for other guards.

The team leader used the radio, He is the right guard. I have his picture etched in my brain. That is definitely the right guy.

The van driver looked at his watch. He checked with the other three men as a safety precaution. They nodded at the unspoken question. It was time to act. The van driver drove to the gate and handed the gate guard the bag with the cash. He took the bag and waved the vehicles in.

Let’s do the deed, the van driver commented as the others nodded.

New York City, New York

In New York City, the escort driver started his car and followed near the van as it made its approach to a gated parking entrance into the United States Federal Building. A lone private security guard approached the van and took the small bag handed to him. The guard checked his watch and waved the two vehicles into the structure. The exact spot where the van was to park had a vehicle already parked in the stall.

The second man in the escort vehicle approached the obstacle for removal. He pulled out a tool known as a Slim Jim. It is a tool the really accomplished car thieves can use to open most any car within one second or so. He noticed the flashing light on the dash. It told him this car had one of the newer type alarm systems. He quickly pulled a small black tool and then reached under the car to a certain spot where he pulled the trigger. The high voltage tool zapped the car’s electronic system, killing its computer circuitry. The alarm was now and forevermore, dead. The man then slid the Slim Jim’s thin blade into the door panel and with a quick upward jerk, the late model car door opened for taking. A quick flurry of action and his motions at the wheel freed the steering wheel to turn. He signaled his cohort and they pushed the vehicle into a spot out of their way. Their van pulled into the newly vacated parking stall, according to a precise placement diagram, correct to within centimeters.

The men checked their watches. They had fifteen minutes before the fireworks and left the building clear of the danger zone.

Chicago, Illinois

The driver quickly drove the Chicago escort vehicle from the structure; Patrick noticed that the private security guard had already cleared out of his post. As hard as he tried to spot the man, Pat was unable to spot him anywhere as they drive out through the service entrance.

St. Louis, Missouri

Peter quickly navigated the escort vehicle onto a street nearby so one of the previous St. Louis van drivers could jump out change the rear license plate while the other van driver made the change on the front license while Peter watched inside the chase car. Once both men reentered the vehicle, the chase vehicle departed from the area, carefully observing all speed laws and avoiding attracting attention.

Time, Peter said, as a rhetorical question.

Wayne looked at his watch, Almost.

Chicago, Illinois

Any second, Patrick said to the Chicago team, Any second.

Now four miles away and sitting at a stop light, a loud, thunderous explosion made itself felt and heard. The street light poles rocked and glass windows in buildings just in front of them fell from their sills.

Johnathan pulled slowly into traffic as the city of Chicago was becoming a major federal disaster area, and crime scene. Sirens exploded into action everywhere as streets became jammed with emergency vehicles.

Cops are everywhere!

One of the drivers laughed, It reminds me of when I used to stir up beehives. I’m only sorry we couldn’t do this over and over again, relieving the feeling I have. I feel like a drunk.

Another driver joined in the laughter, And again, and again, eh?

Los Angeles, California

The Los Angeles team quickly negotiated clogged freeway traffic on-ramps and settled down into the busy hum of traffic with the chaos of sirens coming from behind them. Emergency vehicles were everywhere and it was like watching an ant trail on a sidewalk.

Damn, what a rush, what a fucking rush, yelled one Los Angeles van driver as he turned around and watched the huge billowing clouds of dark smoke rise higher on the horizon.

New York City, New York

The New York escort driver turned off the highway onto a street where many apartments lined both sides of the street. He parked the car and he and his assistant headed for a garage down the street. Each of the men carried their gear bags, having made sure nothing remained behind them. Once reaching a certain garage door with a combination lock, the car driver unlocked it and opened the door, revealing the fresh van inside. It already had business signs on its sides and rear door. The men from the replacement van arrived. They quickly changed out their gear and equipment to the new van and just as quickly as they had appeared, they vanished, from the neighborhood. A few minutes later the clean van had safely escaped the city and pulled onto the highway for the long trip home. The passengers were jubilant as they sang.

Los Angeles, California

With the newly replaced van safely out of sight, the Los Angeles team’s van driver pulled another remote control from his pocket and pushed on the button. The previous escort vehicle and first replacement van parked inside residential garages, burst into an inferno of smoke and fire, soon followed by the explosions caused as the flames ignited the freshly filled fuel tanks.

Peter turned on the radio in the car and pushed the scan button, listening to snippets of information from many radio sources. The main reports heard were mostly identical. Emergency conditions were now in effect in four major cities of the United States. Some reports speculated on the significance of the tragedies now unfolding in Los Angeles, St. Louis, Chicago, and New York City. A well-informed radio station suggested a gang of foreign terrorists being the responsible culprits. Yet another radio station reported they were talking to the group who were claiming full responsibility of the events and made promises for more of the same in the immediate future.

How about that, Johnathan remarked and grinned. We spend over forty million dollars per van and then some crank call tries to claim responsibility. Ain’t that a sweet kick in the ass?

Is it possible someone might know about our operation, Peter, asked the youth, Wayne. Maybe they...

Look kid, Peter interrupted, you’re working overtime thinking about all the possibilities. Stop doing that to yourself. Never second-guess a well-developed plan of action. Nevertheless, to answer your question, no, it’s not possible someone would say anything. Our group is way too tightly laced to have outsiders know anything. Our group would not even let someone try to talk to them about anything. You understand that? Peter asked, waiting for some sign or responses from the youth.

Wayne nodded, and then settled back into the seat, his facial expression showing he was still not convinced that the group was so tight. If he lied about the body, then that meant others might lie about something also.

By the way, how did things go with that Mexican troublemaker I gave you and Patrick to take care of? Did everything work out as you were told?" Peter cocked his eyebrow when he caught the youth hesitate with a look of being surprised. Peter bit on his lower lip as he gave another fast glance over at Wayne.

Dwight, the previous St. Louis van driver didn’t miss the looks he caught from Peter and his biting on his lower lip. That was a sure sign he was not happy about something.

"Well...er...yeah, everything went...okay. We