Alpha Chase consisted of two unmarked cars inside the Frieberg Fire Department. They were in a vehicle bay vacated by a pumper that we had persuaded the fire chief to park outside. We hid them because we felt that Gabriel was likely to pick up on them before they were aware of his presence. Four TAC officers were assigned here.

Last, but not least, was Alpha Foot. One male and one female TAC officer, plainclothes, were available to stroll by any location we wanted, to double-check and get a ground view of any situation. They were currently upstairs in the Frieberg Public Library, which was a full block removed from the bank, and where they'd be able to enter and leave without being observed by anyone in or around the bank.

We all had diagrams on a Xeroxed sheet. The bank was in the middle. Alpha 1 was to the right of the bank, close to the edge. Alpha 2 was below the bank, but close. Alpha 3 was in the upper left corner. Alpha Mobile was about halfway up the page, on the left edge. The boat was on the lower right corner, Hester's office was opposite that, and the chase cars were way over on the lower left corner. The river was indicated on the extreme right edge. The two north-south streets that formed Frieberg proper were parallel lines about three inches apart. The east-west streets were indicated by three parallel lines evenly spaced down the page.

The tension was high for about the first hour. Nobody said much, and everybody was grabbing a look out the windows of the darkened office every few minutes.

By 0230, we were making trips to the adjacent office, and grabbing coffee. By 0345, some of us were staying in the coffee room for as much as half an hour at a stretch.

At 0351, we all watched a train go by on the tracks between the Beauregard and the pavilion. A slow train.

I was in Hester's office about 0400, and saw Nancy and Shamrock walking across the parking lot, and heading toward the General Beauregard. Not a bad vantage point. I silently wished them luck with the photos. It had occurred to me that a good set through a telephoto lens could do us wondrous good in court.

About 0412, our radios crackled to life.

"CP, Alpha Two has suspicious movement."

"Alpha Two?" It was as though Sally had been waiting for just that call. "CP, we've got a brown Toyota four-door with Illinois plates, who's just started his third pass by the bank in five minutes."

"Alpha Two, Alpha One, is he eastbound? All we have is headlights."

"Ten-four, eastbound."

Silence. The tension was back.

"Uhh, Alpha Mobil hasn't seen any Toyotas."

"And Alpha Two has the suspect vehicle back on the street facing west… and they seem to be stopping to speak with a female subject walking east… on the north side of the street…" There was a silence of maybe ten seconds. "And she's in the car, and I think she should go for about twenty-five bucks…"

"A hooker?" I couldn't believe it. "Right here in River City?" I started to laugh.

"We've had rumors a couple of them are trying to work around the boat," said Hester.

"Well, I think you can mark those 'confirmed,'" said Art.

A flurry of activity like that, and now everybody was pumped with nothing to do. You don't want to leave the area, in case you miss something. So you just hang in there and fidget. And think.

I tried watching TV. My favorite, the Weather Channel, showed the blue and pink worm arching almost above us. Fantastic. Warmth, and on schedule.

By 0540, we were no longer pumped. Hester called down to the buffet, and ordered a bunch of rolls and orange juice.

By 0630, it was getting light, and Alpha 1 was stood down for a thirty-minute break.

I think we'd all reached that scratchy stage, when the sun comes up and you haven't slept, and you've had so much coffee that nothing would feel better than to brush your teeth and take a long, hot shower. And then pull the shades, and get into bed.

"Hey," said George, brightly, "only seventeen and a half hours of Sunday left."

With the sun coming up, the boat looked gorgeous. The sky had some high cirrus clouds, and was all pinks and grays. Out on the Mississippi, steam was coming up in the ice-free area around the Beauregard, and also out in the open main channel.

"I hate sunrise," said Hester.

There were large vertical pillars of steam coming off the ice. They were fun to watch, and lent a spooky air to the whole thing.

By 0700, the sun was theoretically rising. I say theoretically because those neat tendrils of steam were turning into a thick fog. Over everything. Visibility was dropping.

"Would you look at this shit?" said Art. "We're not gonna be able to see a damned thing." He turned from the window. "Well, they'll call it off, now. You can't see well enough to make a getaway in this crap."

I should have realized this could happen. The land and the river were very cold, and damp. The warm, moist air coming up from the Gulf was causing the problem. The jet stream. The problem was that there was almost no wind. Maybe 5 to 7 mph. Just enough to keep the warmer, wet air moving over the river and the land. Not enough to blow the fog away. Visibility was down to 500 feet.

Volont shook his head. "No, they'll do it. They have to."

At first, I thought he meant that "had to" because we were all ready for them. But the more I thought about it, the more it began to sound like Gabriel and company were not about to stop for anything.

"He must really need the money," I said.

"He does."

At 0828, the radio rasped again. "Alpha Two has a female subject approaching the bank."

It turned out to be the odd-hour teller. The first clue was when she produced a set of keys and unlocked the door. I was glad they could see her. In the fog, we couldn't even see the bank anymore.

"She's alone?" asked Volont. It appeared so. That wasn't part of the plan, as she was to have been joined by a young FBI agent who was going to pose as an apprentice teller.

Volont got busy on his radio. He looked up. "My man seems to have gotten lost in the fog," he said. "He thinks he made a wrong turn…"

No plan, as they say, ever goes as written. Volont got on the secure radio, and had one of the team members on street level get out of his gear, lose his FBI jacket, and hustle to the bank as a customer. He'd just have to stay there until the "apprentice teller" got himself unlost.

No problem, really. Just like the first scratch or dent in a new car. You simply hope it's a small one.

By 0910, I was tired, hungry, and bored out of my mind. I had thought that, if any time was best, it would be just before the bank opened, but after the tellers had arrived.

At 0912, Alpha Foot called on the radio, and advised they'd "go for a walk." That meant a general reconnaissance about the area of the bank, on foot, that would probably take thirty minutes. Volont called, and said the lost "teller" was now assigned to a team, and left the other agent in the bank.

At 0914, Sally, George, and I went down to the buffet, and played like we were just tourists. Scrambled eggs (special no-fat variety), and bacon, with pancakes and butter and syrup, and orange juice and coffee and toast. Like I said, I was hungry.

We ate in silence for a few moments. Looking out the windows, at the Beauregard in the fog. You could still see her fairly well, but we were only about 200 feet from her at that point. Visibility was down to about 300 feet, here at ground level. The garish lights were creating a pinkish haze around her, in the dim light of day. It seemed to be getting thicker.

"Well, only fourteen hours to go," said George, with false optimism.

I raised my hand to attract the waitress who was roving with the coffee. "Piece of cake," I said to George.

By 0940 we were back in Hester's office. I looked out her office window, and could barely make out the Beauregard. "Hell, we can't see shit from here." I looked at my watch. "I think I'll take a walk over toward the bank. Anybody else want to come?"