Nate had come in during Dave’s briefing, and tossed a file on the table. “Awright, if there aren’t any more questions, beat it. Dave and I got some more things to work into the plan.”
* * *
Nate dropped Dave and me off a quarter mile from the target on the south side of the compound. His station would be 200 yards north of there, on a rise that had a clear view of the buildings. Couldn’t see much inside the walled-in yard, but the second floor and entire northern perimeter were visible. Once our watches showed it was 10 p.m., we headed for the waterfront.
A narrow beach ran up to the boundary of Crosby’s place, where a seven foot brick wall with concertina wire along its top awaited our ministrations. The wall curved around and joined with the corner of the house. All underbrush had been cleared back from it for ten yards. Normally there was a continuous patrol conducted by live guards, but not tonight.
The wall itself was a formidable barrier. If the concertina wire was cut it activated a silent alarm according to the company who’d installed the barrier. The one weakness was the gate at the water’s edge, where the wall turned back towards the house. It didn’t have a coil of concertina on top of it, like the rest of the fence. A narrow pressure sensitive plate was in its place. After a careful examination, I slipped a thin wedge under the pressure plate and was over the fence in seconds. Once Dave was over, we held ourselves immobile for sixty seconds, alert for any sign we’d been discovered.
Reassured by the absence of alarms, we crept towards the boat house that ran under the seaward part of the house. A side door that didn’t look like it’d been used very often invited my scrutiny. No lock was evident; must be blocked. I took out my class cutters, applied a sucker to the lower left window pane and made short work of cutting through it. Have to make sure and glue the window pane back when we left. Laying it aside, I reached in and felt around. Like I thought, a metal brace ran from the knob to the floor. Moments later I eased the door open and we moved inside.
Getting into the basement from the dock was easy compared to what we’d done so far. A walkway led to an entrance into the basement, and my lockpick had us through it within seconds.
Dave touched his throat mike. “We’re in. Starting stage two.” We eased up the stairs, all senses alert.
There were three guards, all of whom had settled around the kitchen table for what looked like a serious game of poker. Dave pointed up, then at himself. I nodded, and he disappeared. I prowled the first floor, looking for ideal places to install the hardware I’d brought along. The first room was a large office, which naturally got a voice-activated mike on the underside of the desk. A floor safe next to the desk had the palms of my hands sweaty. One of my favorites, a DeWalt, and with a classic dial face. I caressed it. No time now. “Soon, baby,” I whispered.
Thirty tense minutes later, I joined Dave in the basement. A closet door with a serious looking Yale lock took me five minutes to conquer. Inside, the space had been converted into an arms locker. Three rifles with night vision scopes on them decorated one wall, while the rest of the area was taken up with several assault rifles and ammo. Bushmaster AR-15s, mostly. An idea percolated in my brain and I headed to a work bench I’d seen in a side room.
It was another fifteen minutes before we joined up with Nate. He maneuvered our way along route 20 and towards I-5. “Did you see all that hardware?” asked Dave. “Those were sniper rifles, weren’t they? And at least ten AR-15s.”
Nate stopped at the light, and made a right turn. “Shit, wouldn’t wanna take them on with all that firepower.”
A smile crept onto my face. “Yep. Not very good ones, though. In fact, all the armament in that closet’s pretty low quality, if you ask me.”
Dave gave me a disbelieving look. “You kidding? That’s a lot of serious firepower, man.”
“Yeah, but they haven’t been very well maintained. Not sure what’ll happen when they’re fired, with all that Gorilla Glue down their spouts.”
“Glue…” Dave’s chuckles turned to laughter. “So that’s what you were doing. Wondered why you were taking so long in that closet.”
Once close to I-5, we stopped at the first fast food joint to coffee up. In this case, a Wendys. “I’m buying, guys,” I said, pushing through the doors.
“Man, if you’re buyin’, why not that fancy restaurant a couple blocks back?” asked Nate, making a beeline for the restroom. “Order me a coffee and two burgers, willya?”
“…So other than the big boats goin’ by in the bay, wasn’t much happening from my perspective,” Nate said.
I refolded the map of the house we’d just visited. “Good. And with listening bugs planted in each of the offices and two conference rooms, we should hear whatever we need to.”
Dave drained his coffee. “You think two spy eyes are enough?”
I shrugged. “The boat shed and garage seemed the logical places to spot comings and goings.” The mini-cameras, both the size of a cigarette pack, were motion-activated and should be able to last a couple weeks if necessary. “Okay, guess that’s it. Anything else we need to…” A sudden memory stopped me cold. Glass window. I hadn’t glued it back.
Dave leaned forward, a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong? I swear it looks like someone just walked across your grave.”
“We got to get back there,” I said, standing. “I forgot to
