A few weeks earlier, I had decided we needed something more secure for the bulk of our legal recovery, so I had gone shopping. I remembered that in Cocoa Village, there was an old bank that had been closed many years ago. Over time, it had taken on life as a dining establishment of one kind or another. After passing through several owners, it had come back on the market recently. The beauty part of it was, over the years, the various owners had kept the vault intact and used it as part of the décor and ambiance. The building’s interior, vault, and everything associated with it had been well taken care of, so I bought it.
We contacted the vault manufacturer and flew in one of their techs from New York. He cleaned its mechanism and thoroughly inspected it. Once we received a thumbs up from him, he reset the combinations on the vault’s locking system. We installed some new electronic security measures inside and out and moved the bulk of the treasure “legally” recovered inside—around 275 million dollars in gold and silver.
The building was staffed with a security force and a communications center, but there was no in-and-out daily traffic. For appearances’ sake, it was still just a closed business that was having some renovation work done. Our deliveries and vault refurbishing occurred at night. The workmen in coveralls around during the day were all security personnel. Since Lair Two was the site you saw on the news, the security personnel were uniformed and very visible there. No need for a covert approach; I wanted them to be seen. That made them a psychological as well as a physical deterrent.
Our original Lair in the industrial area of West Cocoa still housed the bulk of our “Pirate Booty.” Its non-descript exterior and location hid well over 3.9 billion dollars in gold, silver, and gems. People drove by it every day and had no idea. The building sported a chemical company logo and hazardous material signage supplied by Fitz and his Acme Corporation. We now had three areas where our wealth was stored. My mind still had a hard time taking it in, but it was all part of the plan. If word ever got out about us having a secret location for our finds, I would give up the bank in the village. I hoped that the original Lair location would remain unknown.
Early the next morning, I was awakened by the incessant ringing of my phone. I picked up and immediately recognized Doc’s excited voice.
“Colt, I got another call…”
“What now?” I groggily asked, the adrenaline starting to kick in.
“Looks like the state is preparing for the potential of an altercation at our meeting tomorrow. They contacted the Guard again to make sure they would be armed.”
“What the hell…” I exclaimed, sitting up and wide awake now. “Why would they be so concerned about that unless they were planning on starting a shit storm?”
“I know,” Doc replied. “That’s why I called; something is definitely screwy with this.”
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll get on the horn with Fitz and alert him. Let me know if you hear anything else. I’ll be at the office (what we now called Lair Two) in an hour.”
“Roger that, I’ll meet you there.”
I hung up and called Fitz. He was as mystified as I was. “Maybe they think you are going to respond poorly to whatever it is they have on their minds.”
“Poorly?” I asked.
Fitz began laughing and said, “Okay, bad choice of words. How about in a less than favorable fashion… better?” His laughing continued.
“You’re not being helpful here,” I said.
“All right, let me see what I can do. We sure as hell don’t want an O.K. Corral on the high seas occurring. I’ll be in touch; stay frosty!”
“Thanks, will do.”
I informed the rest of the team, and we set up a meeting at the new office (Lair Two) for an hour later. We had a conference room in this facility, just not as high tech as our original Lair. We took our seats around the table and dove into the facts as we knew them. Tension was rising, and I was worried.
After an hour of discussion, I felt we were as prepared as we could be. However, Dimitri and Joe were not much help in quelling my concern.
Dimitri had said, “We’re good to go, Colt. We’ve got weapons, ammo, and Gus has enough explosives on board the Falcon to sink a destroyer.”
“Yeah, we’re loaded for bear!” Joe added.
“For crying out loud, you two! You keep that up, and I’m going to put you both in a ‘time-out’ and leave you at home.” That’s when the laughter began, not at what I had said, but at the fact that I had taken the bait those two yahoos had thrown out.
Through the fits of laughter, Dimitri turned to Joe and said, “Told you he would fall for it,” and continued chuckling.
“Hook line and sinker,” Joe said.
As the laughter died down, I felt the heat of the flush start to recede from my face.
“All right, you two Bozos, that was not funny…”
“Oh, yes, it was,” Doc said. “You’ve gotten yourself wound pretty tight over this meeting, and you need to take a breath. We can and will get through this. We’ve handled worse, so relax a bit and let’s get to it.”
He was right, of course; we had been through much worse and came out the other side just fine. So, I did begin to relax a bit. We were ready, and we
