Page 76 of Operation: Silent Angel
“As you know, your cover will be six fisherman friends renting a cabin at the same campground. They stayed in cabin number seven, per Moody’s wife. See if you can get the same cabin when you check in; if not, you’ll need to get in there and look around. I know it was searched by the State Police, but they may have missed something,” Shepherd said. “You’ll fly into Atmore Airport, the local municipal airport. From there, it’s a half-hour drive to the campground. Atmore Airport happens to be about an hour and a half due north of NAS Pensacola. SecDef will have two pickup trucks and a bass boat waiting for you at Atmore when you arrive, plus the fishing gear and meal supplies in coolers to make you look legit to any scrutiny.”
“Will he have six packs of beer in those coolers?” Robinson asked. “Gotta have beer on the lake to look legit.”
Many of the men at the table chuckled.
The corner of Shepherd’s lip ticked up. “I’ll put in that request.”
There was more laughter. “And Doc is a fisherman. He is at HQ this week and is available to give you any info needed regarding fishing if you’re not familiar with the sport, so you blend in,” Shepherd added.
“Doc should have been the medic assigned to this case,” Winston said. “All I know about fish is what kind of wine to pair with it.”
The laughter continued until Shepherd held a hand up. “Any mission questions?”
“What weapons are we authorized to use on this mission?” Flores asked.
“Sidearms and rifles. And try not to divulge your federal law enforcement status to anyone, including the local LEOs if you can help it, before you get answers. There are several local militias who don’t like or trust the federal government in Alabama, one close enough to be of concern. Woods is including information on them in the last push of intel you’ll get shortly,” Shepherd said. “But we have no reason to believe the four men came in contact with them at the campground and on the lake. That’s not where they train or live. The FBI and ATF keep a close eye on them.”
“An anti-government militia?” Mac asked with a grin. “This mission just keeps getting better.”
Laughter erupted again at the table.
“Just as long as they aren’t the Klan, I’m cool with them,” Robinson said. “From what we’ve all seen over the years, I have to agree with many of their concerns about the federal government.”
“Grant’s pulling your ammo. You have a plane to catch,” Shepherd said. “Good hunting, gentlemen. Get some answers for these families.”
The six of them came to their feet and left his office. Mac and the other Bravo Team members went up the stairs to get their backpacks and bags from their offices. Cooper went down the hall to his office to retrieve his. They all met up in the garage where ‘Requisition Ryan’ Grant was just finishing loading the ammo cases into the back of one of the two Shepherd Security SUVs parked in front of the elevator. After placing their bags in the vehicles, they went into the Team Room and brought out their rifle cases.
Cooper slid behind the wheel of one of the SUVs. Mac stepped towards the passenger door, but Flores cut in front of him. “Why don’t you ride with the rest of the team? I need Cooper’s ear.”
Mac nodded and went instead to the second SUV where he took the seat behind the driver, Winston, and fastened his seatbelt. As they pulled forward, between the two garage doors that were one of several security barriers protecting the garage, he glanced at his car parked beside Yvette’s Acura, just as it was in the garage of the townhouse. He’d chosen a black Porsche Cayenne. He really wanted a red 718 Boxter, but it was just too flashy. And he’d probably get in trouble with the speed.
“That’s a nice ride you have,” Robinson said, nodding towards his car.
“Yeah,” Mac agreed. “I have an old Mercedes parked at my place in London. I need to get back there and sell both it and my flat.The Cayenne rides so much better than the Mercedes. I’m glad I didn’t buy another, almost did.”
“I heard you were once chief of London Station,” Robinson said.
“No, not station chief. Just posted to the office. It was an okay gig, and London is a fun city to live in, better than most of the other places that job brought me.”
Robinson chuckled. “Yeah, I hear you on that. In our careers, we’ve all been to some dangerous shitholes.”
“And some great places that were just as dangerous,” Mac added.
“I’m thinking bumble-fuck nowhere, Alabama, may fit into the former rather than the latter category,” Robinson said.
Everyone in the car laughed with him.
“What was that about?” Cooper asked Flores, inside the other vehicle.
“Just trying to force interaction and bonding of Mac with the team. Did you notice the team went to one car as a group, and you and Mac peeled off to this one? I know he’s been busy with getting through the training, but he hasn’t had enough time with us for the guys to get to know him or trust him.”
“Just the guys? Not you?”
Flores snickered. “I trust you, and if you slated him for this mission, then you think he’s ready.”
“You do realize he’s been operating for nearly thirty years, most of it solo, which requires skill and instincts.”
“My point exactly. He’s used to flying solo, and he’s ex-CIA.”
