Page 5 of Operation: Reckless Angel

“And hopefully we’ll wrap this up and be back before the snow flies,” Mother said.

“I’m hoping it isn’t anything as sinister as what Moe is thinking,” Roth said.

“And if it is, hopefully we figure it out quickly and end it,” Lambchop said. “We need to hit the ground running when we arrive.” He had placed his phone in the mounting bracket on the dashboard when he’d taken his seat. He hit dial. Jimmy Wilson answered on the first ring.

“Yell-low,” Wilson answered. “I have you on speaker.”

“We need to hit the ground running with a plan when we arrive. I have the phone number for our contact and will provide him with our ETA when we’re closer. He’ll meet us at his townhouse. As soon as we set up, we need to get eyes on our target and arrange for one of us to meet him, maybe by the mailboxes. I want to see if we get a vibe off him.”

“That’ll mean one of us is burned at get-go,” Wilson complained.

“Small price to see if we can get an impression of him,” Lambchop said.

“I say our guy claims to be new to the area and asks for a reference to a nearby bar or coffee shop. Maybe we can strike up more than a quick conversation,” Mother interjected. “We can have our guy strategically run into him at his local hangouts by his own recommendation.”

“I like it,” Lambchop said. “Text Smith on the Digital Team and have him look into where this guy shops, what bars and restaurants he frequents, everywhere he spends his money. I want a complete list of everywhere we can trace him to through his bank and credit cards over the last month.”

Mother tapped out the text message.

“Who wants the honors of trying to cozy up to this guy?” Lambchop asked. “Me, Mother, and Burke are out.”

“Why’s that?” Roth asked.

“He’s a thirty-five-year-old white guy. We have a better chance of him buddying up with someone just like him,” Lambchop answered.

“That rules me out,” Wilson said. “He’s clean cut, most likely won’t invite me to his favorite hangouts.” He still had longer hair.

“Ditto,” Tessman said. “Every bartender out there swears I look underage.”

“Okay, I guess that leaves me,” Roth lamented, knowing that if this guy didn’t readily talk to him, he just may end up being out of the action, relegated to surveillance from afar.

Mother glanced back at him and chuckled. “Don’t sound so excited to be his new bestie.”

“We’re assuming this guy wants a buddy. He could be a loner that prefers to keep to himself,” Roth said.

“We’ll know in a few hours,” Lambchop said.

“So, what’s the plan if he doesn’t leave his house the first few days?” Roth asked.

“I guess we’ll have to lure him out,” Lambchop said. “We’ll have to see how this plays out and adjust as needed. But we do need to get access to his place within the first few days to get the surveillance planted.”

“And if he already has security cams in his house?” Roth asked.

“We knock out his internet before we go in,” Mother said. “That’ll knock out his cameras. Everyone has them tied into their internet these days, so they can view the feed on their phones. It’s a weakness in the system we can exploit.”

“While we’re in his house planting the cameras and bugs, we need to try to get the Digital Team into his computer, if it’s not a laptop he takes with him,” Lambchop said.

“And we’ll enact twenty-four by seven surveillance on him, following him wherever he goes,” Wilson added. “So, we’ll need to rotate who’s on him so he doesn’t get suspicious.”

“We’re going to need a third vehicle,” Tessman said. “The Traverse will blend in, but the Suburban screams federal authorities.”

“Yes, we’ll get that tomorrow. If Roth buddies up with him, he’ll exclusively drive the Traverse,” Lambchop said.

“Yes!” Roth exclaimed. “New car smell.”

The others chuckled.

“Smith will get back to us ASAP with what we need,” Mother reported. “We should be able to build a profile on him before we arrive in Waterloo.”

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