Cross Roads (24 page)

“Who?” the Sisters shouted as one.

“Fish and Stu Franklin, that's who!”

“Oh, my God, Annie, you're right! That would certainly explain so many things,” Isabelle stormed. “And it also would explain one of those…visions I had. I told you about it when I first got here. I saw Stu, Jellicoe, and Fish fighting for their lives. There was so much gunfire, I thought I was going to lose my hearing. In the end, I was afraid of Stu.”

Annie snorted. “I was never afraid of Fish, but I think he was afraid of me. He said more than once he couldn't depend on me, that I was like mercury. I took that as a compliment.”

“And well you should have, dear. Being mercurial is a wonderful attribute,” Myra said. The Sisters agreed, and Annie basked in their praise.

“I cannot wait to get my hands on that weasel,” Annie said. “I want you to know right now that I am declining any and all help when it comes to Fish.”

“Point taken and noted,” Kathryn said, giggling.

“What else do you have, Maggie?” Nikki asked.

“It's really only been a few hours, girls. I'm sure my source is working diligently on getting more, but for now, that's pretty much it. Do you have anything sweet?”

Yoko scurried to the fridge and brought out half a coconut cream pie. “Just eat it out of the pie plate. There's only enough for you.” Maggie obliged.

Even though the hour was late, and no one had had any sleep, the girls trekked down to the war room, where they went to work, Alexis with her list for Charles to fulfill for the mission that was just days away. Charles's eyebrows shot upward, but he didn't say a word. He tried to shift his mind into the neutral zone, but it refused to budge. He cringed when his wife looked at him, and she said, “It's admirable to stick up for one's friends; it's another thing not to have an open mind. You can't always be right, dear. And last but not least, we're women. You seem to have temporarily forgotten that. We haven't failed yet, and we won't fail now. I just want you to know we are not going to hold this against you in any way, dear,” Myra said. “Are we, girls?”

Charles strained to hear the Sisters' responses, but none were forthcoming. His insides felt like an army of ants on the march.

“You did, dear, but don't dwell on it now. We're closing in,” Myra said soothingly as she patted Isabelle's arm.

T
he strip, as it was called, which was actually A1A in Fort Lauderdale, teemed with tourists, locals, and thousands of men and women who were gearing up for a show of solidarity for the ride up the eighty-mile stretch of Alligator Alley for the benefit of the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation.

Jack Emery—decked out in what he called Florida gear, an outrageously colored shirt covered in palm trees, a straw hat with strings hanging all over it, sunglasses, cutoff short shorts, and sandals—looked at his posse and burst out laughing. “Someone really should take our picture, especially old Harry here.” Harry's middle finger shot into the air. Espinosa clicked away.

“You're looking bloody silly,” Avery Snowden said, coming up behind the five men. “Silly because I could have taken you in the blink of an eye.”

“Aren't you supposed to say ‘over and out' or something equally stupid, Snowden?” Jack pointed to Snowden's outfit and burst out laughing. “You are never going to pass for a biker dude,
dude
! You look like you've been embalmed, and they forgot to tell you. My advice is to go out there in the water, get soaking wet, then roll around in the sand so you don't look so
new
. I don't think I ever saw anyone ride a Harley with a spit shine on his biker boots. Plus, you look just like what you are, law enforcement,” Jack said, adding insult to injury.

“And you all look like something the cat dragged in, then realized she'd made a mistake,” Snowden shot back.

“Now you're getting it, you asshole. That's the look we were shooting for. It makes us belong. We're beach bums, locals. You did notice how people are crossing the street so they don't have to walk past you, right?”

“I don't like you,” Harry said quietly. Jack and the boys stepped backward against a window display of colored beach towels that were two for twelve dollars. The scent of coconut suntan lotion wafting out the open door was overpowering.

“Well, ask me if I bloody well care,” Snowden snapped.

“You should care,” Harry said, “because there is no more room on my list of dislikes.”

Jack and the boys watched as Snowden tried to process Harry's words. When he couldn't, he turned and motioned to four of his men. “This is no time for personalities, Mr. Wong. We're here to do a job. If you want to take me on when it's over, come ahead.”

“That makes sense, Harry. Now you have something to look forward to,” Jack said. “If you're stupid, that is.”

Harry slid his sunglasses down over his nose. “As usual, Mr. Emery, that makes a modicum of sense. Thank you for your input.”

“Anytime, Harry, anytime.” Jack cackled.

“Let's go over there to the Anytime Bar and Grill and talk this through to make sure none of us screws up, Snowden,” Bert said. “We have plenty of time, thirty-six hours to be exact, before the bike rally starts. We've been here twenty-four hours already, so I think we have a good bead on things.”

Seated around a scarred wooden table, the party of ten ordered burgers and draft beer. To order anything else would have been suspicious, Bert said. “How did the flyby go?” he asked.

Snowden smirked. “Well, 123 Dolphin Drive is occupied by three people as of seven o'clock this morning. We know this because of the heat sensors in the plane. They flew low, so let's not get into the technical end of things or a bunch of questions. We have a video of the neighborhood. It was one flyby, and by now I'm sure your guy has called the airport and checked the tail numbers. Before you can ask, the plane is registered as a trainer, and the log shows a student going up at seven seventeen. No blowback there. The video was uploaded to Charles the minute the plane landed. We're waiting for further instructions.”

“Annie called us a half hour ago and said the girls think Fish and Stu Franklin are with Jellicoe,” Bert said.

“Makes sense. Beautiful day—the waterway will be busy today. I have guys out there. If Jellicoe has been hiding out here for as long as you all think he has, his guard might be down, what with nothing happening. Has anyone said how the girls plan to…infiltrate…123 Dolphin Drive?” Snowden asked.

Jack and his boys laughed. “Surely you jest, Snowden. We won't know that till the last minute. I do know this—they're on their way. Annie said there are twelve of you, right? That makes us a party of seventeen. Our own little biker gang,” Bert said.

Snowden chomped down on his burger, ketchup dribbling down his chin. He swiped at it. “I spent four hours yesterday in the records department here in Fort Lauderdale. I checked all of the building permits, and I think it's accurate to say 123 Dolphin Drive is about as safe as Fort Knox. The doors are steel, but there's a mahogany veneer on them. The building permit just says mahogany doors, but with the high-powered binocs, I could tell. And those garage doors, they're just doors—but there's a solid wall behind them. These lenses can see through everything but three layers of steel. What the hell is this guy afraid of?”

“Beats the crap out of me,” Jack said. “Then again, maybe it's the fear of those five guys from the intelligence and law-enforcement services coming down on his ass. That would scare the hell out of me.”

Snowden leaned across the table. “What the hell did he do?”

“Like we know! Something, obviously. We just don't know
exactly
what it is.”

“And for some unknown reason, we are taking this guy out?”

“Yeah. Interesting, huh?” Ted said, speaking up for the first time. “Technically speaking, we aren't taking him out, the girls are. We're just backup.”

“What now, Snowden?” Jack asked.

“We're quartered a half mile up the strip at the Seashell Motel. Our bikes arrived last night. We signed up to take part in the rally, although why is still a mystery to me. I guess it goes under the category of nitpicking details. We have creds that say we belong. Your bikes should be arriving in”—Snowden looked at his watch—“thirty minutes. We have just enough time to pay the check and hoof it back to the motel. I registered you guys last night, so all the details have been taken care of. You plan on riding in those silly getups?”

“Uh-huh,” Harry said.

Bert paid the bill and mumbled something about $192 being a rip-off.

“With or without the tip?” Espinosa asked.

“Without,” Bert snarled as he pocketed the receipt, wondering who he could turn it in to for reimbursement.

As they walked along ogling the nubile sunbathers, Ted decided it was time to vent his frustration. “This…this mission smacks of a few past missions where no plan was in place. Is anyone seeing this but me?”

“If that snide comment was directed at me,
Teddie,
eat shit! I'm not in charge of anything and, like you, I'm here because I was ordered to be here. Look at the bright side. We got some new duds out of the deal,” Jack said, referring to the beachwear they'd purchased at a thrift store for pennies on the dollar. “The even brighter side is when you and Maggie finally tie the knot, and you take her to Hawaii on your honeymoon, you won't have to shop for island wear.”

“What are you guys babbling about?” Snowden demanded.

Jack didn't think Ted's voice or tone could get any surlier, but it did. “I was just mentioning it would be nice if there were a plan in place. Or is this crap NTK?”

“It is need to know, Robinson. First and foremost, never question orders; just obey them.”

“I don't like your attitude, Snowden. Furthermore, I don't work for you, so that means I don't take orders from you. I'm with Harry. I don't like you. In addition to all of the above, you are going to look pretty damn stupid in those biker duds sitting poolside with us
while we wait for orders.
”

“Wiseass! My men and I will
not
be sitting poolside with you clowns. We will be tinkering with our Harleys. That's what bikers do; they tinker every minute they aren't riding.”

Harry inched closer to Ted and hissed, “Would you like me to kill him now or later?”

“I heard that! I heard that! You and what army, Wong? Hope you aren't counting on those four
wusses
behind you.”

Harry laughed. Jack thought it was a delightful sign of mirth. For certain it was a harbinger of evil things to come. Snowden must have thought the same thing, because he moved away to take a call that was coming in on his cell.

“Well, boys, I think we have arrived at the Seashell Motel,” Bert observed, pointing to an ugly square structure painted pale purple, yellow, and pink.

Espinosa reared backward. “This looks like one of those places that rents rooms by the hour. I am not staying here. And I am not going into that pool. Just look at that murky water. There's no telling what is breeding in it.”

“Well, then, I guess we should start tinkering on our bikes. I do believe those five Harleys sitting on the side belong to us, at least temporarily. And they come equipped with helmets, thank you very much. These people drive like drunken cowboys here in this fine state. What do you think, Harry?”

“I do believe you're right, Jack. However, if these bikes are compliments of one Charles Martin, my advice would be to
pretend
to tinker. ‘Pretend' is the operative word. These machines are delicately honed to respond to their drivers. I read that; I don't know it to be true, but it is always best to err on the side of caution, do you agree, Jack?”

“I do, Harry, I absolutely do. So it's okay to sit on it and have Espinosa take my picture? For Nikki. I'm sure she'd like a glossy eight by ten.”

“You're ahead right now, Jack, so quit.”

“Okay, Harry.”

Snowden took that moment to end his call. “Okay, listen up. I have some temporary orders, so pay attention. First, though, I have to go inside and see if I can upload some info and print it out for you cruds.”

“I have a better idea, Snowden.” Harry's palm slapped at the side of Snowden's face, and he dropped to the ground. His men rushed to his aid while Jack and the boys watched. Harry bent down and picked up the cell. “I'll do the uploading and printing out.”

“Well, that certainly works for me, Harry!” Jack said cheerfully. “There is absolutely nothing like a man of action. Is there, boys?”

“Nope, nothing,” they all agreed.

Harry was back in fifteen minutes. “Hard to believe this dump has wireless. If you'll notice, I collated everything and stapled it for your reading pleasure, and it cost me twenty bucks. So, here it is in a nutshell. In other words,
THE PLAN
!”

 

Kathryn settled herself behind the wheel of the eighteen-wheeler, Murphy on the passenger side. “You know what, Murphy, I feel like I died and went to heaven. I can't tell you how much I've missed this rig. I can't wait to get on the horn to see if my old buddies remember me.”

Murphy tossed his head back and howled, Kathryn's signal to blast the horn. The horn blast meant they were going on the road. “This is as good as it gets, Murph. Just you and me, baby, until we get to Georgia to pick up the girls. Settle in with that cheese bone while I check out who's on the road in case we need some unexpected help along the way.”

Hours later, Kathryn was about to give up when she tried one more time to locate her old trucking buddy, Jesse Sturgen, also known as Big Bear. “Hey, Bear, you copy? This is Little Sis.” It finally dawned on Kathryn that most of her buddies had probably gone high-tech while she was gone and none of them used their CBs any longer. But, not Big Bear. With fingers like tree trunks, Bear would definitely forgo texting. Besides, he loved talking to people.

Disgruntled, Kathryn finally accepted the fact that if she was going to continue to be a trucker, she had to keep up with what was going on.

An hour outside of Georgia, her CB came to life. “Yo, Little Sis, this is Bear. Where you been, Sweet Cheeks? Got seven calls saying you were looking for me. Had to catch a little shut-eye, so I didn't hear the squawk.”

“You telling me you don't know about my nefarious past? God, it's good to talk to you, Bear!” Kathryn said, happiness ringing in her voice.

“Nah, I was being polite. Where are you?”

“An hour outside of Jacksonville, where I'm meeting up with some…ah…friends. Where are you?”

“Forty minutes from Hobo's. You want to meet up for some good old trucking food?”

Kathryn did some quick mental calculations. “Yeah, sure, I'm making good time. What are you hauling, Bear?”

“Kitchen sinks for Home Depot. Got one that's about ready to fall off the truck in case you need one.”

“Got all the kitchen sinks I need, Bear. Thanks for the offer.” It was a joke, pure and simple.

“Whatcha hauling, Sis? You back to trucking full-time or are you…ah…working your own gig?”

“Jet Skis. Or I will be when I hit Jacksonville. Top-of-the-line, latest models, not in stores yet. Not sure about full-time, but I sure am enjoying the road again. Life's a little uncertain these days.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Listen, Sis, we were all on your side, every damn trucker from California to Maine. And their families. We all waited for calls in case you needed us.”

Kathryn felt a lump form in her throat. “That's nice to know, and, Bear, I did know that. I just didn't want to involve any of you with what was going on. But tell me this, when do you have to deliver those sinks?”

Kathryn heard a booming laugh. “Whenever I get there is when. You need me, I'm yours.”

“Know anyone who will be in the Fort Lauderdale, Florida, area tomorrow with a little spare time?”

“Let me check. I'll have the info for you when we get to Hobo's. You get there first, order for me and tell them to keep it warm. If I get there, I'll do the same for you. You got Murphy with you?”