Zeke took the van, Spooky fired up his Porsche, and Skull drove the Jeep as the recovery vehicle. An hour later they came back in it, having sent the van into the lake in a hidden cove. If they were lucky it would be months before anyone found the site.

In the meantime Daniel had cooked some food, trying to use up everything that they couldn’t bring along. He laid a huge spread, knowing he’d eat a lot of it, and the others wouldn’t be too far behind. Stuffing their faces, between bites the talk naturally turned to the coming operation.

“How soon do we go?” Daniel threw out. “And how?”

“Qui Audet Adipiscitur,” quoted Skull.

Daniel furrowed his brow at Skull. “Latin?”

“Who Dares, Wins. The motto of the SAS.” He meant the Special Air Service, British special forces.

“You mean you think we should go in fast and hot.”

“Yes.”

Daniel nodded, thoughtful.

Zeke looked at him, then at Skull. “I agree, to a point. And I think I want the treatment.”

“What?” That caught Daniel off guard.

“Hey, I’m the oldest one here, I’m getting fat, my feet are flat, my cholesterol is high, I got a hernia, and it ain’t gonna get any better. And we have to do this right and do it fast, for Ricky’s sake if nothing else. I’m willing to take the risk.”

Daniel shouldn’t have been surprised. The payoff looked too big, too rich, to ignore. “Anyone else?” He asked around, challenging.

Skull shook his head. So did the rest, though more slowly.

“Not yet,” said Nightingale. “What if it makes my…makes me not be able to…you know.” He looked down at his crotch.

Everyone burst out laughing, but it was a legitimate question. They just didn’t know anything about the side effects.

“Well, I haven’t noticed any problems.”

“I don’t see any women around here to test yourself on.”

The next few suggestions were vulgar; warriors can be rough-spoken. After the laughter died out and everyone had pretty much finished their dinners, Zeke drained his beer and said, “Well?”

Everyone stared expectantly at Daniel. “Well what?”

Zeke held out his hand, palm up. “Bite me.”

“Oh, man…this is creepy,” Daniel answered. “Maybe we should just cut our thumbs and mix our blood.”

Zeke shook his head. “We don’t know that would work. We do know this does. Bite me.”

“Bleah, bleah,” Daniel did his best Dracula. “Okay.” Grabbing his hand he bit Zeke, slobbering on the wound a bit for good measure. “Yech. I’d make a bad vampire.” The skin tasted like cheap after-shave, which meant really, really horrible. To his credit Zeke hadn’t flinched, just rubbed the bloody spots a little and looked.

“It took a little while. Overnight, for me. Don’t expect anything before that, except to get unusually hungry and sleepy,” Daniel put in.

Zeke shrugged. “Que sera, sera.”

They tidied up, locked up and moved out.

Daniel called his neighbor Trey with a clean phone on the way. “Hey Trey, Dan here.”

“Hey, man. Glad you called. There is a truck parked in your driveway. It says Dominion Power on it, but I saw four guys get out and they went in your side door. Which seems weird since I know you’re not home, and it’s after hours. You want me to call the police?”

Daniel really didn’t want him to. He actually wanted them to clean up the body, if that was what they were doing. He hoped they weren’t setting up a frame for Jenkins’ murder, but pushed that thought away.

“No…Trey, it’s some classified stuff, national security. I think these guys are bad guys but I don’t want to tip them off. I’ll just report it myself, okay? Don’t get involved. They might be dangerous.” He didn’t think Trey would. He was a nice guy, but not the adventurous type.

“Okay, man, your call. You got a number I can reach you at?”

“No, sorry, I’m moving around. I’ll call you now and then, okay?”

“All right now. You take care.” Trey hung up.

Daniel pulled out the batteries and tossed the phone out the window when they crossed the next river. It traced a sweet arc downward to splash fifty feet below. Then he went to sleep.

He woke up when their convoy was pulling into Outdoor Mountain near Richmond, a mecca for the hunting, fishing, and nature sporting crowd. A hundred thousand square feet of gear, from the smallest lure up to bass boats and ATVs, and guns and ammo.

Lots of guns and ammo. They did some shopping.

They didn’t actually buy any guns. That would take a background check, ID, and an hour or two of waiting even if the record is clean. They couldn’t be sure any one of them wasn’t on some watch list somewhere.

Ammunition, however, can be purchased like candy in Virginia. Echoes of carpetbaggers and Reconstruction and the Federal city right on its northern border kept Virginia’s gun laws libertarian. Thomas Jefferson, native Virginian, had said, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.” A few million Virginians stood quietly ready to prove him right if the Feds ever tried to take their liberty and the guns they protected it with.

Daniel picked up a few things he wanted to try out, a few things he thought would be useful. They all did. Then they drove on, well stocked.

-11-

The sun was coming up the next morning over Onancock as they deployed around the apartment complex where the Integrated National Strategies people lived. It turned out that they all had units at a place called Seaside Acres, built in the last ten years, cookie-cutter. Made it easier to recon. Made it easier for their security people to keep an eye on their own guys too.

Zeke, Spooky and Daniel sat in the Land Rover, parked down the street from the apartment complex’s single gate. Zeke munched cheerfully on his fourth ham-and-egg croissant. The XH had taken hold.

They’d already watched one little nerdy-looking guy get into a black Suburban driven by a big Hispanic minder. The Suburban was parked just inside the gate, by the leasing office. It was easily visible from the angle the guys had chosen.

“That’s Arthur Davidson, virologist. The heavy is Miguel Carrasco, former Texas Ranger.”

It was hard to say for sure, but Carrasco didn’t seem to be all that alert. Just another day on the job for him.

He got out of the vehicle again as another guy walked up. Caucasian, thin, grey and balding, thick glasses. His pants were too short and he had on a stained white shirt, and dirty leather shoes like fry cooks wear on greasy floors. “Roger Auprey. Epidemiologist. Nominated for a Nobel prize once, but apparently he has to be reminded to shower and change his clothes. Mad scientist.” One more of the watchers followed behind him.

“The guy behind him must be Rogett.” Karl Rogett, Master Gunnery Sergeant, USMC retired, Daniel remembered from his file. Looked tough as nails, like you might expect. These two hard cases seemed more focused on controlling their charges than protecting them. I guess they expect me to run and hide, not gather up my own personal A-team – well, Zeke’s - and come after them, Daniel thought.

Daniel really wanted this thing to go smooth, no casualties. He wasn’t sure the other guys were on the same page, despite his insistence.

Skull, Larry and Vinny had gone in the Cherokee, over Larry’s strenuous objections. A flashy Escalade just wasn’t any good for surveillance, so they’d parked it back at the chain motel where they were staying. They should be down at the biggest marina nearby, renting a nice big pleasure boat that would accommodate everyone. If they were lucky, INS’s corporate vessel would be at the same marina. If not, it would be easy to keep an eye out for them from the water between there and Watt’s Island. The harder thing would be not to be noticed themselves.

The Suburban pulled out of the gate and Zeke, Daniel and Spooky shadowed them from well back. They drove like locals, not too fast and not too slow, and pretty soon the Suburban pull into the marina where Zeke’s guys should be. Sometimes things do go smooth. For a while.