Carthago Delenda Est

"Let me run something by you I read a few days ago..." Jimmy said, while Jack picked up his own fork and began to pick out the slices of chicken and broccoli from his unwanted noodles.

XXXVIII

Wednesday, 1315

Jack and Jimmy walked into TNT-Tactical, noting the lack of customers and quickly walked up to the showcase in front of the proprietor, Rick.

"Rick." Jack said simply, extending his hand.

"Jack." Rick said, shaking his hand and then offering his hand to Jimmy. "Jimmy. Good to see you both."

Jack looked at Jimmy, surprised that Rick knew him by name. Rick saw this and smiled, before explaining to Jack. "Jimmy is one of the few guys who buys nice quality, bolt action rifles and just as nice Leupold scopes from me. Like you, Jack, he pays cash and throws me a lot of business." When Jack and Jimmy said nothing, Rick smiled and stood up slowly from his stool and headed back to his shop.

"Just as I said on the phone; they didn't work, but I tooled them down a bit and now they feed smoothly from magazine to breech."

"Thanks, Rick!" Jack said as he casually took the re-tooled shell adapters from him and turned to leave, Jimmy trailing behind after looking seriously at the new Sig P-320, one of the serious contenders for the new US Army sidearm contract to replace the aging Beretta, M9.

"Come on, Jimmy." Jack called. "Don't buy it until the Army officially adopts it."

The next six days for Jack were a mix of mission preparation and intense and repeated sex with Veronica. Beginning Sunday afternoon, when Jimmy had time, they would rehearse their now combined plan to get Jack into Baby Doll's using the ruse they'd adapted from Muj attacks on Coalition bases in Iraq, using an unpleasant reality of life to lower the suspicion with which Jack would be subjected as he attempted to enter the club and take out Dante. Jack practiced his planned actions on the objective, using the shotgun adapters to shoot and reload as quickly and accurately as he could, and found that the .22 LR rounds were really only accurate from the shotgun he planned on using to within 10 meters. The weather's turn towards the cold onset of winter had taken a normal, late autumn turn back toward 'bluebirdy days,' and had left the rivers flowing and navigable; this was key to Jimmy's suggestion for their clandestine infiltration to and exfiltration from their staging area. As a result, the two of them spent several hours from Sunday until Tuesday in Jimmy's kevlar canoe, traversing a specific 20 mile length of the river in question. Jack had told Veronica that he'd likely make his play against Dante sometime in the next week, and while he'd noted that she had only nodded her head in reply, she seemed much more 'clingy' when they were not having sex, and far more passionate when they made love. Jack didn't mind her need to be with him, but did feel bad about the extent to which he caused or added to her growing trepidation. Though he told her it was necessary for their ability to be together in the future, he knew each day that passed made her demonstrably more nervous.

XXXIX

The following week, Wednesday, 2350 (10 minutes prior to mandatory bar closing time)

Jack sat in the 'Pipe Dreams Plumbing' van he'd stolen from their not very well fenced-in lot, watching the swirl of the snowstorm that was not quite a blizzard outside the van. He was parked along the same street which Baby Doll's fronted, the engine was running and he was watching the parking lot slowly move toward empty as the anemic crowd they'd attracted testified to the seriousness with which most potential customers had taken the weatherman's dire warnings of the blizzard that wasn't. Things were once again working out perfectly for Jack, which was in itself very concerning; something always goes sideways on an operation, he knew, and reviewed his plan again, looking for warning signs of critical flaws in the actions he'd taken that had allowed him to get to this point.

XXXIX.I

Previous week, Friday, 1647

Jack had finished scrolling through the first four days of footage he'd downloaded from the clubs and had realized that in addition to glimpsing Dante's routine of visiting each of his clubs (but spending only one evening at three of them, and the rest of his evenings at Pirate's Cove, and each time, he parked in the same 'VIP/Management' parking space at each of the clubs, except for Baby Doll's which had, critically for Jack's plan, a small, rear lot and delivery area), he had also noticed that during the week, each location had been visited by a plumbing truck, from Pipe Dreams Plumbing company. The fact that each club had a visit from the same company made Jack suspect Dante had contracted with Pipe Dreams to offer exclusive service, and he confirmed this suspicion in a call, requesting the same service, and being told by the receptionist that until mid-2016, they were under exclusive contract to another client.

"That's the in." Jack told himself, now just needing to devise a ruse by which Baby Doll's would, on the day of Jack's choosing, need plumbing service. Looking at the company's website, Jack discerned from their pictures that they had three service trucks, a fact that he confirmed as he drove past their office late at night over the course of several different nights and counted the same three vans (noting their license numbers) were behind the locked, chain-linked gates each night.

Jack had spent the previous two days looking at detailed imagery of the exteriors of each club, and decided that he wanted to hit Dante while he was at Baby Doll's, as it was in a section of town far enough from regular police presence (and with a city-wide recent dip in reported thefts, assaults, robberies or other crimes) that it offered the best opportunity to hit the place fast and get out. The fact that Veronica had worked there, and that it was at that location that Dante had attempted to coerce fellatio from her was a convenient coincidence, but not necessary to Jack's plans.

From the imagery the cameras recorded Jack concluded he wasn't getting the information he needed to setup the assault. He had an idea of how to initiate it, but he'd need to get some eyes-on recon of the building from closer up than his cameras would allow. He picked up his iPhone and dialed Jimmy's number as he got his jacket and called to Veronica through the door to the guest bath where she was luxuriating in the tub.

"Ronnie, I have to go meet Jimmy and run an errand. I'll be home late."

XXXIX.II

Later Friday, 2318.

Jack sat in Jimmy's Wrangler, parked along the side of the highway overpass that overlooked Baby Doll's from the Southwest, while Jimmy squatted on the ground outside the Wrangler, looking to the few drivers who passed them like he was changing the rear, passenger side tire while Jack clandestinely piloted the quadcopter drone from inside the Jeep.

Jack watched the image on the monitor of his laptop as he passed the drone over the club's roof, pausing the drone for a moment and turning on the flash before taking a detailed photo of the roof's surface, figuring the flash from the drone's light wouldn't seem too dissimilar from the rotating search lights Dante kept outside the club's entrance, on the West side of the building, and which were rotating and quite bright on a loud, thumping Friday night. Jack moved the drone slightly around the roof, taking three more pictures, before moving it North, past the building and watching the recorded footage of the club's rear entrance. Then he saw it, the one other detail that he knew would make his plan feasible.

"Jack, you about done?" Jimmy called to him as he put the bolts he'd earlier removed from the tire, back on, then hauled the spare back to the mount on the rear door and re-secured it.

"Yup!" Jack called, directing the drone back to their location where Jimmy intercepted it as it descended toward the surface of the road's shoulder, and passed it to Jack.

"Damn, Wolfman!" Jimmy said as he got back in the Wrangler, turned up the heat to full blast and put the engine back into first gear. "This feels like we're back in the field, like it's real; I missed this shit!"

"Welcome back, King James." Jack said, smirking and extending his hand for Jimmy to shake. "I understand you're in the market for a new job..."

XXXIX.III

The following week, Wednesday, 1600

Jack held Veronica tightly and slowly kissed the smooth, dark skin of her face and neck, and gently ran his hands around her shoulders and back, trying to comfort her. They stood together just inside the door to his condo. They had spent the morning and most of afternoon in bed, making love, cuddling and being affectionate. Finally, Jack had risen from the bed and showered as Veronica had dozed off to sleep. He changed and came back to wake her up, finding that he could not simply leave her sleeping and unaware of his departure to wake up alone, in his darkened condo. She had been very quiet and seemed somewhat cold as he kissed her good bye, and he had almost departed the condo when she ran to him and clung to him, quietly crying. "Jack, please... You don't have to do this." She whispered desperately into his ear as he held her. She felt the itchiness of his wool shirt against her arms and neck and the warmth of his strong arms around her.

"Hey, it's okay, Ronnie. Don't worry about me, I'll be careful. I promise." He said quietly into her ear, kissing her forehead and continuing to rub her back.

"Don't leave me, Jack, please..." She begged him, tears streaming from her eyes while her lips quivered as she looked up into his green eyes and willed him to not just hear her, but to listen to her words. She stepped back and put her hands on either side of his face as she stared deeply into his eyes. "Don't leave me..."

He kissed her lips, tasted the salt of her tears and felt the tremor that ran through them. Jack hated upsetting Veronica, and felt guilty about the thrill he felt from looking forward to executing his plan and, he had to admit to himself, the desire he had felt to hunt and kill a man who served as a suitable surrogate for the hate he never got to dish out to his father.

"I'll be home tomorrow morning, sweetheart, I promise."

"Will you call me?" She asked, though he'd already told her he would not use his phone until everything was finished.

"I'll call you when it's finished, Ronnie." He told her again, softly, not letting anything but calm and (he hoped) gentle reassurance into his voice.

"I love you." He told her, kissing her once more before he turned to the door.

Veronica took him in her arms once more, this time letting her sobs issue from her throat and held him as she shook from the depth of her fear of losing him and of being alone in a world she'd only known to treat her with, at best, detached curiosity. She was convinced that he was the only man who not only had, but who would treat her with the love, respect, adoration and affection she had always craved. Veronica cried at the bitter injustice of possibly losing him so soon after she'd met and fallen in love with him.

Jack turned around and held her tightly once more, waiting for several minutes as she expended the most violent of her trepidation, then gently separated himself from her. He opened the door, looked back at Veronica once more, waiting for several seconds, smiling at her with his mischievous smile, looking into her eyes, and then closed the door and locked it behind him.

Veronica wrapped her arms around herself, holding her forearms over her stomach which felt as though it was on fire and tied into knots, and sat down on the sofa, covering her mouth with one hand and cried until she was thoroughly exhausted. "I didn't tell him I loved him..." She thought, feeling anger at herself mix with the nervousness and sadness she felt as she had no choice but to wait.

XXXIX.IV

Wednesday, 2138

Jack and Jimmy slowly paddled the canoe quietly to the bank of the river, Jimmy sitting in the bow. As they approached the bank, the overhanging trees (despite lacking any leaves) blocked enough of the wind to significantly lessen the swirl of blowing snow as they came to the river bank. Jimmy was able to see the bank through the contrast of the snow above the bank, and the shiny reflection of the moon on the water below, and felt the soft impact of the thick mud of the bank against the paddle he held out in front of the canoe. Rather than a blizzard, it was a snowstorm they dealt with, but one with enough holes in the cloud cover to allow frequent guest appearances of the full autumn moon and the light they needed to aid their river crossing. Slowing sufficiently to prevent the canoe from making a hard landing, Jimmy jumped out of the canoe and grabbed the bow, pulling the first half of the canoe firmly onto the bank before reaching back to take the handle of the bucket and then the very cold metal handle of the toolbox Jack handed him from where he sat at the canoe's stern. Jack then exited the canoe and helped Jimmy to lift the canoe and quietly bring it fully onto the bank, out of the river's currents. They knew enough about the tides this time of year to know that the river would not reach high tide until late the following morning.

The two former infantrymen quietly moved through the cold, windy snowstorm, inland from the trees along the bank, and exposed to the full might of the wind's fury. While it was unpleasant, it was also a perfect time to break into the fenced-in motor pool for Pipe Dreams Plumbing company, as due to the cold, the guard dogs were not on patrol outside. They spotted the two fixed point surveillance cameras aimed at the chain link gate leading into the motor pool, and moved into position behind a redoubtable stand of 'fothergilla' blue shadow shrubs, approximately 20 meters away from the cameras. Jimmy took out a Ruger Mark IV pistol and, with Jack positioning his hands over and under the ejection port, took careful aim with the open sights, factoring in what he thought was the likely wind drift, and shot first one and then the other camera, the quiet report of the .22 immediately lost in the swirling maelstrom of the angry wind. Still, Jimmy had shot perfectly, hitting each of the the cameras with a .22 LR hollow-point bullet and destroying them, as Jack caught each spent cartridge. As always, Jack was impressed with Jimmy's uncanny marksmanship and aptitude for accuracy using only open sights.

Jack and Jimmy hustled forward toward the now unmonitored gate, set down and opened Jack's tool box, and took out a hand-sized pair of Tecton, 8-inch bolt cutters. Jimmy held the chain out, exposing the old, rusty padlock holding the two ends of the chain together. Jack, as the stronger of them, put to work both of his arms and was able to use the small bolt cutters to shear through the padlock's shackle. They pulled the chain out of the gate and entered the motor pool, hearing the loud din from the guard dogs, shut inside the main building, angry at their intrusion into the yard, but unable to do anything about it. Jack approached the rightmost of three company vans, and as he expected, found the door locks to be as simple to compromise as had been Gill's, and (as he'd expected), once inside the van, found the keys on the sun visor. Jack started up the Van, finding that the tank was only one quarter full, and turned off the ignition. Snag #1, he thought, realizing that he'd not be able to use the van furthest from view of the headquarters building, and thus less likely from a casual inspection, to be noticed as missing. Jack exited the vehicle and checked the middle van, finding the keys in the same location, and that this van's tank was full. "Finally!" Jack said, and quickly put it into gear, driving it out of the gate and picking up Jimmy as he pulled the gate shut and ran the chain through the diamond shaped holes of the fence, ensuring that to a casual inspection, the gate would still appear secure.

XXXIX.V

Wednesday, 2217

Jack dropped Jimmy off several blocks from Baby Dolls and then drove the van another few blocks away, out of sight from the club. Jimmy had entered the club and sat down at the bar, sipped drinks, watched the stage, and politely begged off the solicitations for lap dances while he waited for the conversation that would signal Jack's success in setting up Baby Dolls for his Mujaheddin-inspired attack. Finally, he saw the woman who'd been his and Jack's waitress Monday ("LaChyna?" Jimmy wondered, unsure what her name had been), the previous week, when he'd met Jack, lean over the bar next to him and shout over the pounding mix of Diplo or Dillon Francis or Skrillex techno-trance 'thump' compilation that boomed over the speakers.

"Derek!" She shouted to the bartender's shiny, brown pate from where it hung over a cutting board of limes for the eight mojitos he was trying to complete. The man, tired and worn down prematurely beyond his forty-eight years, looked up at her with rheumy, blood shot brown eyes.

"Call the plumbers! There's shit backing up out of the toilets in the ladies' room!" Jimmy found LaChyna's use of 'shit backing up' and 'ladies room' strangely dichotomous, though he forced himself to betray no outward interest in their conversation, instead staring at the three energetic dancers on stage. The beaten-down bartender nodded twice with sagacity and reached for the black, cordless phone next to the register as LaChyna stayed and waited. The bartender bent forward and held the receiver close to his head, cupping his hand around the receiver in an attempt to keep out as much of the loud stage music as possible. Jimmy hazarded a glance away from the stage and watched the bartender talk animatedly into the phone, look up warily at LaChyna, go back to speaking into the phone, then close his eyes and shake his head in resignation before hanging up. The bartender looked up, hesitantly into LaChyna's unhappy face.

"Man said, they ain't coming out in the storm; said they'll come tomorrow morning, when the snow stops." LaChyna rolled her eyes and stalked away. Jimmy was confident she hadn't seen or recognized him, and after he finished his last mojito, he left a $20 bill on the bar, figuring the $2.17 in tip would not make him especially memorable, and left.

He walked East down the street outside the club, eventually walking toward the stolen plumbing van and holding up his left hand and coughing three times, each time moving his head forward, before walking past the van. The use of his left hand and the forward motions of his head was their agreed upon signal that Jack's plan earlier that day, in the afternoon before the storm had hit, to use one of his quad copters to drop a wadded up section of paper towels soaked in grease into the broken and exposed, septic air vent protruding from the club's roof, had worked, and that the toilets were now sufficiently blocked up to need the assistance of Dante's contracted plumbing service. Jimmy, having delivered his signal to Jack, walked another two blocks East through the angry, swirling almost-blizzard, and up the steps of a parking garage to his Jeep Wrangler. He started the Jeep, glanced over toward the front passenger seat to see the quadcopter drone sitting on the floor where they'd laid it after bombing the sewer pipe, and waited for the Jeep to heat up. He resisted the urge to use his phone (or even turn it on), and just watched the clock on his dashboard until the Jeep's interior was nice and toasty before he put it into reverse and drove out of the garage. He'd not had to worry about having to pay a parking fee as after 2200 and until 0500 the next morning, there was no fee for parking. He would head home to Grace for a few hours of sleep, before telling her he was going to hunt coyotes (and indeed, he had a scientific specimen collection permit for his Master of Science program in Wildlife Biology), and meeting Jack with his varmint rifle for the culmination phase of Jack's plan.