Merry - Chapter 69

   "Rob? I'm feeling more like my old self now."

   "Good."

   "Yeah…"

   "Hmm. What's the look for?"

   "Rob. I'm… going on a little field trip. You don't have to mix up in it. Thought you might think it was fun, though."

   "What are we talking about."

   "You remember up on the hill?"

   "Sure."

   "Well. There was one more. That was supposed to be there. But he wasn't. He? Was home with a bad bug."

   "What's the big deal?"

   "Well… the others? Got picked up in the sweeps. The hill pigs? They… indicted themselves, simply by being there. This little piggy? Missed that. So…"

   "You wanna wrap up a loose end."

   Panic winked and smiled.

   "How… official is this?"

   "It's… unofficial. It's… off the books. But, no one will miss him."

   "I don't really care, one way or the other. Would we be going to cowboy him? Or…"

   Panic shrugged and smiled. It obviously didn't really matter.

   "Are we sending a message?"

   "No. Quiet work. I got a file, to get us started."

   "What's the house like? We get an approach?"

   "From the rear, yeah. I was thinking, we case the place. I'll get a key made from the lock. Then? We'll just go in, see what there is to see. Something should pop out."

   Just like that, they planned an impromptu DC hunting trip. Panic hugged Merry, and whispered into her ear that he was going on a hunting trip. Down to DC. Little Robbie? Was going with him. Merry just nodded.

   On the drive down, they tossed ideas back and forth.

   "Honestly, Rob? I was starting to think… Insulin."

   "Guy's got sugar? I didn't see that in the file…"

   "He's not, but, it happens. You just load up a shitload of Insulin in something they eat or drink? There's no stopping the sugar crash coming. By the time everyone figures out he didn't just faint? He'll already be dead. Autopsy? Just shows a sugar crash. It's not unheard of. Sudden onset catastrophic low blood sugar. Human body makes insulin. It just made… too much. With no injection pimple? Just the matter of getting rid of the delivery container. Beer can, coffee mug. What have you.""

   "I guess I like that. I was honestly looking at the hobbies. I saw… hunting and shooting. What if when we go in and look around? We see some reloading stuff. Be too easy, to arrange an accident."

   "Hmm. A rifle reloading accident?"

   "If he has something with big enough a case, sure. I was thinking… 150 kilo Psi accident… ain't no locking lugs can take that. Bolt will come right back, through the head and shoulder. We're looking at full chamber separation. The shooter's head is right above that going off."

   "Messy, and public."

   "Yes. But… also very… accidental."

   "There's a certain something to be said for… a city cowboy hit, you know. I mean, it's just the city. Anyone that mattered looking into it? Would just assume he was being kept quiet, from talking. That he knew some things."

   "That's our backup option."

   "All right."

   Later on, after dinner… they walked around the neighborhood their quarry lived in.

   "Don't look now, but, that's the one. There. The one with the yellow porch light."

   "His girlfriend is still working, he's probably out with the boys. Kids?"

   "Ex wife keeps the kids. He lives alone with his new girlfriend."

   Later on, Panic approached the back door. He was, ironically, using the same rake tool on the guys back door lock, that they had used on his girl's apartment lock. Once he had the door open? He photographed the four digit security key on the inside of the door lock. While he was in? He wiped his feet on his own towel he brought with him to make sure, and walked around for a quick little look see. Small city townhouse. The spare upstairs bedroom? Man cave. Couple of hunting rifles. One, a 30-06? Was the one being used all the time. He had the rank basics of reloading equipment. He photographed everything, and returned out to Rob to show him pay dirt.

   "30-06… nice."

   "Notebook? Says he shoots 40 rounds, every weekend. Same load every Sunday. And here…"

   Panic dropped an empty brass case, and a loose projectile into his hand. Rob held them aloft, looking much like a jeweler observing a gem stone.

   "I have a primed case, and a projectile. All we need? Is to overfill the case with really fast powder. Seat it, sit back and wait."

   "Did he have any pistol powder in there already?"

   "No, or I would have done it already."

   "All right. No dog, no security system? This is too easy. You got the key code?"

   "Yeah. No sense scratching the tumblers up for nothing. Let's split up when we get back. You? Go get a pound of what do you think, HP-38?"

   "Sure. You gonna get your key replaced?"

   "I sure am. Damned kids, losing my shed keys."

   "We'll do this tomorrow this time, be back in time to read about it in the papers. We meet up for dinner tonight?"

   "Place we had lunch?"

   "Sure. Why not."

   They split up, and went shopping. Rob took the car for the drive to a sporting goods store. Panic just walked around after Rob dropped him off in the business district nearby. Hardware stores are all over and easy to locate. Then they met up for dinner at the same pizza shop they had lunch at. After ordering an extra large pizza be brought back to their table, they went and sat down to compare notes.

   "I got the powder."

   "I got my key."

   "All right. We'll handle it tomorrow afternoon, be on the road back before anyone really even misses us. Everyone thinks we're out looking for a new gun shop, huh?"

   "Yeah. Fun road trip kinda thing."

   "Panic… is this the… end of this stuff?"

   "I think so. Like I told you before. I considered that combat up on the hill. Our little piggy? Was supposed to be up there. Now? He will be. Just… retroactively."

   "I told you, I don't mind… I just find this all… irregular."

   "Of course it's irregular. You didn't find, what they were up to… to be irregular?"

   "I did, and I told you so. I don't have a problem with motivation."

   "So… we're good?"

   "We're good."

   When the pizza arrived, Panic told Rob to order some side dishes for take out. Panic ordered a meatball sub for take out, the way he liked it. He had Rob get a steak and cheese the way he preferred it. Between that and the side dishes? They had food for tonight, and tomorrow to get them onto the road before they could stop and relax.

   They both went in the following afternoon, for the final entry. They overloaded the shit out of a single 30-06 round, and carefully crunched a projectile down onto it firmly. Computer estimations were running over 200 kilo Psi, way more then enough for a kaboom situation. They carefully matched case overall length, to the other loaded rounds the man had been in the middle of reloading when he had last quit.

   When he chambered this round, however? It would be his last ever. With gloves on, and little hospital booties over their footwear, they left no trace anyone could find if they even looked for it. Using the key on the lock was the final straw, and they locked the door behind themselves and made their way out.

   Once on the road, they drove in mainly silence, until off the highway and out of the city. Rob was driving. Panic wanted to get into his meatball sub, and Rob didn't want into his steak and cheese yet.

   "Panic. Can we talk about stuff?"

   "Rob… me, you… we can talk about anything."

   "You're really not going to level with me, what all's going on here, are you."

   "Rob. I honestly level with you, on almost everything. I swear. There's one main thing, that I can't. And one day in the future? I'll be able to tell you, and I will. Then? This will all make perfect sense."

   "What's with this sudden interest in the FBI. It's not in your character."

   "Rob? I'm hunting a group of assholes. I got Speedy on my side for it. It ended up at the FBI. That? Is my sudden interest in the FBI. Now… is me doing anything I have to do, to get the job done… is that in character for me?"

   "When you put it like that? Yeah, I guess it is. What exactly would you call this… technique you're using."

   "Actually? I call it… entry-ism."

   "How's that work?"

   "Well… you join an organization. Usually bottom rung, just to get in. One way or another? You start using and influencing the organization. Next thing you know…"

   "Yeah. I noticed how chummy you are, with internal affairs."

   "More than just internal affairs, now. I leapfrogged that up. That guy back there at the bar, the one that came in to run everything?"

   "Yeah…"

   "He oversees big operations at the FBI. He's going to take over me and Speedy's case. Then, on the sly? Speedy can just tell him whatever he thinks ought to get done. Poof. Gets done."

   "Does this guy know, about me and you?"

   "He suspects. He doesn't care. He tried to run our background, by the way. He ran into a wall. He understands that, and he backed off, and re-routed right around it. He's former military intelligence."

   "Are we in reports?"

   "No. Not beyond, we were witnesses."

   "He knows…"

   "He suspects. All he knows for sure? Is that he got handed a big gift, with a red ribbon on it. It just showed up on his front porch. A lot of people, liked that gift."

   "So… you got us, tying up his loose end?"

   "No. This is my loose end. I didn't lie to you, Rob. Those dirty cops? They really fucked up when they sent an asshole to kill me and my girl in our bed. I greased that asshole? And I greased the rest of them, too. To me? It was personal. You wanna bring combat to the real world? Well… boo fucking hoo, when you run into someone you shouldn't have fucked with."

   "Are you just using Merry, to get what you want?"

   "No. I like her, I really do. I'm pretty sure? I love her. At least, I think I do. You know how some of the guys with money in our group, they have trophy wives?"

   "Sure."

   "Well? That's mine. That? Is my trophy. She gets me. In her own way? She's as crazy as me and you put together. She doesn't want money, she doesn't want to golf with the mayor. She… just wants to wake up next to me."

   "And… if another woman looks at you, she'll beat her eyes closed."

   "I know… isn't it sweet?"

   "In a weird way? Yeah… I just can't get over the feeling, that there's something else going on."

   "That's the thing, Rob. There is? I can't tell you. Just… let it ride. One day? I promise, I'll tell you. When I can. But for now? I got the board set up just the way I want the game to go down. I'm about to get off of this… little side project, and back onto the main case. Me and Speedy."

   "Speedy isn't retarded, Panic. He's… gonna know something's up."

   "Sure he will. But? Speedy is also very practical. Just like that big guy at the FBI, found a big present with a red ribbon on his front doorstep? He couldn't help but take it and make use out of it. Speedy's, in a way, no different. Speedy? Is gonna look at the new lay of our land? And just grab the reins with both hands."

   "After Speedy strangles you."

   "Well, yeah. After that."