Chapter V

illiam was trying to add up all he knew about the recent goings on.  With him in the paddy wagon was four of the armed gunmen in green flak jumpsuits with all the pockets typical of a swat team.  They were bristling with weapons, and none of them were smiling.  In fact, judging by the look on their faces, he had offended them very badly.

"Can one of you guys tell me where you're taking me?" he ventured.

"There will be no talk from the prisoner," the guard with the extra chevrons on his sleeve said hatefully.

"I thought . . ."

William merely grunted when the stock of one of the rifles came up and hit him in the jaw.  He was knocked out cold.  The men there in the truck swiftly stripped him, threw his clothes in a bag, and handed the bag to the guard riding shotgun.  He tossed the bag toward a trashcan as the driver slowed down and pulled close to the curb, then gunned the big vehicle.

William, now devoid of his tracking devices, disappeared without a trace.  Tack had his man, but he had severely injured one and killed another in the process.  William stirred as the big turbo-prop C130 transport lumbered down the runway.  "Sure is a big plane for just a single man . . ." he thought, then lapsed into unconsciousness once again."

When he awoke he found he was not alone.  He was however, still in the armored vehicle, but the man on the gurney next to him was pretty messed up.  He was bandaged all around the head so William did not know it was Lane lying there.

"So much for my rights as a citizen of the United States of America," he thought.  He put together the fact that they had driven the armored car right onto the plane to keep the risk of being seen down to a minimum.  "This is beginning to take on the airs of a Federal Government operation," he decided.

"William."  William diverted his eyes to the sound of his name being called.  "Is that you Lane?" he asked.

"Yeah, where are we?" he asked weakly.

"Well, judging from the fact that we're in an armored vehicle and probably aboard a C130 military transport, I'd say we're in the air bound for Washington, DC.  Or at least to one of their detention facilities," he answered.

"Do you have any idea as to what this is all about?" Lane asked.

"No, Lane.  I haven't the foggiest idea as to what this is about, who is involved, what they want, or where we're headed.  But I sure wish I did know," he concluded.

"How are you doing Lane?" Will asked.  He looked at Lane and his eyes were closed, so he left off attempting to talk to him.

William heard the pitch of the synchronized props fall slightly, and the plane began to descend.  This was not the first time he had been questioned in connection to the Crawly Caper by the huge Federal Government machine.  He knew this machine moved at a snails' pace, and it could very well be a long time before he was free again.

The bump and roar of the huge wheels on the runway told William they were down.  In his mind he was trying to determine how long they'd been in the air but didn't think it was over two hours.  But in that length of time, they could very well be anywhere in California, or perhaps in Oregon or Nevada.  But he didn't think it would be much further than that.

The plane lumbered to a stop after making several turns maneuvering through the maze of runways.  He decided it was at some huge terminal because he heard the thunder of 'heavies' as they shot off into the wild blue yonder.  "Well," he thought to himself. "Might as well settle down for a long experience.

He thought about the warrant that agent Rice had used to arrest him.  He'd heard Jake say it was signed by Judge Baker.  How could that be?  Judge Baker was as honest as they come, and he had no price.  On the other hand, if he was forced to sign at gunpoint to one of his family, well, that would be another matter completely.

And that was the first thing Jake checked on.  He had made the call to Judge Baker before they ever drove out of the parking lot with William.  But the Judge just stated he had signed the warrant and then pretty much went silent.  There was something definitely wrong there!

With that, he informed Len and the ladies of what he had just learned from the Judge.  Sharon headed out there, while Len made arrangements for Williams car to be picked up.  Melinda said she would hunt Tack down and see what was going on.  Len was on the phone and had not taken off when the tow truck arrived.

He pointed in the direction where William had parked, then noticed, Williams car was not there.  It was gone from the parking lot.  "This is all going down much too fast he thought.  There's too many tangents developing all at the same time.  This has been in the planning for some time now.

It was well past midnight when he got the call.  Judge Baker was found in his office chair at home with a single bullet wound in the back of the neck.  There was no doubt that this was an execution.  He had no doubt been killed right after Jakes phone call.

"This is much, much bigger than just the weapons used in the Crawley Caper deaths," he told Melinda.  I don't know for sure, but this is typical of a CIA - ATF black operation.  Too many developments at the same time."

He looked at the note Melinda pushed toward him.  He acknowledged he understood, and went off on the subject of skin diving.  "I'd like to resume my classes as soon as this case is over.  What do you think Melinda?"

Melinda was sweeping the room to ascertain whether or not it had been bugged.  She then motioned for him to 'come here,' then scrawled on the note, "It's identical to the one in my desk."

Len shuddered to think they'd been in his home, and no doubt, had been in Will and Sharons as well.  Probably the Chiefs' home too.  But the dead list was growing, and he knew that when it came to the CIA or ATF, dead bodies were nothing but a job for someone else to clean up after.

He remembered what happened to Randy Weavers' wife as she stood in the door way of their home nursing their child.  He wondered what did Randy feel when she was shot, her and the baby killed instantly by an ATF sniper.  His son and his dog were also shot and killed.

And Waco.  It was a disastrous event that the people of America have never yet come to learn more about it than the government biased and influence media reported.  And all while Bill Clinton was Commander and Chief.

Life was of little importance to the Clintons, which they proved while Governor of Arkansas.  Military planes being used to smuggle into the US billions of dollars in drugs, and delivering that amount of money in firearms back to the Sandinistas, a gang that literally hated the US.

All the lives lost around Mena, Arkansas, and literally, many places throughout the US, have merely been counted as collateral instances of unfortunate circumstance . . .  He loathed that statement, which was nothing short of being a cop-out.

And now, his best friend, William, was in the grasp of the US Government, and two of the finest men he'd ever known were dead.  They had died in less than a twenty-four hour period of time.

His phone rang again.  This time it was Jake Stamler, his boss.  Jake said "the new Police Chief, Russell Adams, just called me with some more bad news.  Lane Wardlow has been taken from the hospital.  A man showed up flashing an ATF badge and the guards were ordered to stand aside."

"There are no ideas as to where he has been taken, but I would be willing to lay odds that wherever they took him, it is in close proximity of William."

After a few minutes of talk about the situation, Len closed the cover on his phone and said to Melinda.  How about a late night breakfast?"  He motioned toward the door with his head, and Melinda grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

In the garage, he opened the door and pushed his Harley through it.  Melinda closed the garage door and got on.  Len had it started and was ready, and let the pipes rumble as he opened up the throttle.  He always did love the power that throbbed through that big engine.  Out on the highway a few miles out of town, he pulled off, went under the overpass toward the ocean.

He pulled into a grove of trees and shut the Harley down.  Within five minutes, a vehicle with the white and blue license plates of the Federal government drove slowly by.  "Well, honey, either we've been bugged or this motorcycle has.  Melinda was already searching her clothes, purse, shoes.  She looked at Len and shook her head.

Len found what he was looking for, and lifted if off and carried it to a ground squirrel hole and dropped it in.  Again, it was identical to the one Melinda found in her desk.

The car drove slowly back out the little access road toward the freeway.  Len and Melinda pushed the bike down the little trail which meandered through the grove, then stashed it in some bushes.  Len drug a branch back down the trail to wipe out the tracks they made, then cautiously led the way back to where they'd stopped and removed the bug.

Two flashlights were proceeding from the little access road to where they had been earlier, then, the men turned in the direction of the squirrel hole.  "There it is," one of them said.  He reached into the hole and was standing up with it when Len hit him.  The guy went down and the other stood silent while Melinda covered him with her XD.

"Well now," a familiar voice said in back of them.  Looks like we have a little standoff.  Okay.  Take them in men.

Melinda knew the voice of Tack, and knew also that he was not just a dirty ATF agent, but that he was a killer.  She dropped her XD in the sand raised her hands.  One of the guys came up behind Len and rendered him unconscious with a blow to the back of his head.

"Why did you do that?" she screamed and bent over him.  She was instantly knocked out as well.

"Okay, Tack said.  They should have Sharon by now.  Adams was going to pick her up himself.  Seems as though he has taken a fancy to the beautiful Mrs. Travis.

Then he laughed.  "This is getting boring it is so easy" he thought to himself.

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