Dark as Daylight Ch. 09

He heard 2 clicks in acknowledgment.

"Number 5, what is your job?"

"I drive the Lincoln Mark LT eastbound, and pull to a stop on the left side of the driveway. 6, 7, and 8 jump out of the bed of the truck, under the cover of fire. They put the antitank mines in place on the driveway to prevent any escape by the limousine, and join in the assault. I leave the truck in place as an increased deterrent for the limousine to exit. I pull out the rocket propelled grenade, stand behind the bed of the truck, and point it at the limo."

"Number 9 what is your job?"

"Sir, my job is the same job as number 5, except I drive westbound and stop at the opposite side of the driveway. 10, 11, and 12 will place the anti-tank mines in place, and join in the fight. I will pull out my rocket propelled grenade, stand behind the bed of my Lincoln truck, and point it at the limousine."

"What's missing from this scenario?"

"Sir, numbers 19 and 20."

"That is correct. What will my shadow, and I be doing all this time?"

Number 9 said, "We don't know sir, you never told us."

"We have convinced the maid to leave all the sliding glass doors in the rear of the house unlocked, but closed properly. Since all the guards will be walking Mister Watley to the limousine, the alarm system will be off. Numbers 19 and 20 will walk in through the back door, and go to the front. Number 19 will be holding an M-16 at anyone attempting to return into the relative safety of the house. That should deter anyone, who wants to live, from putting up a fight."

"Colonel, I would give anything to be old enough to have fought with you. You are a master tactician."

"Thank you, number 9, but honestly you didn't want to be there. It was a God awful war, and so many innocents were killed, it made your blood boil."

His phone rang, and it was William.

"Good morning, this is number 20."

"Good morning, I have news. I asked my eldest to check into one step down's finances. The money has been moved out of the US as of last evening.

Since then, it has been redistributed to the spouse, as well as a generous portion to you and I, for our efforts in dismantling this abomination.

The aircraft in question is scheduled to leave at 2 p.m. The FBI is going to impound the records in 2 days. They intend to make an arrest within 10 days. It would be educational if we could get a copy of those before they do."

"Goodbye."

It was done. Without their usual interplay, very serious information had been transferred between them. Stephano and Patty Valentino were now involved in the war against this terrorist organization. In the stroke of her computer genius, billions of dollars in ill-gotten gains, made by James Watley were transferred to his wife, children, charities all over the world, William Zabo Junior, Patrick Zabo, and Colonel Lucius Canyon. The title to their houses all over the world were now in Mrs. Watley's name.

It took Patty 40 minutes to complete this task. She nearly killed Stephano, when he jokingly asked, "What took you so long?"

Even though their makeup session was very entertaining, he still woke up black and blue the next morning.

*****************

William and Jemma had so much money coming in, they gave every penny they received each year to charities, both in the United States, and to the UN, in an attempt to stamp out hunger around the world.

William Senior was audited every year by the IRS. It pissed them off when they found out, through their tax returns, they paid more in taxes than they were supposed to.

Every time they sent him a refund, he returned it, through his attorneys, asking them to give it to the poor. They couldn't do it, by law, so it was returned to the general fund.

****************

Everyone was in position, but the limousine was running late. It finally arrived at 7:40 a.m. The former Delta force operative exited the vehicle, and closed the front door.

The Opera's Prelude began to play.

He walked to the rear of the limousine, and opened the trunk.

The front door of the Watley home opened, and with his four guards surrounding him, James Watley walked out. The guards were carrying luggage, instead of holding their firearms in readiness.

Kelly keyed her microphone, "Now 20, now."

The Colonel went on the net. "Execute."

Number 1, 2, 3, and 4 left their hiding places, and charged, while firing their weapons at the legs of the Delta. He was hit so many times, he screamed in agony and fell to the floor.

Kelly and Mark fired down at the guards who were carrying the luggage, and disable them before they could drop the luggage, and reach for their weapons.

The two Lincoln's drove into place, disgorged their anti-tank mines and the men joined the battle.

The drivers took their positions, holding the RPG's at the ready.

James Watley seeing the debacle all around him, charged back towards his home. He opened the door, and was faced with number 19's M 16 staring him in the face.

"Please don't kill me. I'm a very rich man, and I can give you whatever you want; but please don't hurt me."

Number 20 said, "Mister Watley, if you truly mean it, we have just come to an agreement. Are you armed?"

"Yes, I have a gun in my waistband, behind my back, and a little one tied to my left ankle."

"19 would you take care of that for me please."

After removing his weapons, the Colonel said, "Why don't we go to your office, where we can see if you want to use your hand grenades, and your sawed-off shotgun against us. Or if you truly wish to cooperate with us."

"How did you know about them?"

"You have a maid that you pay less than $200 a week. We hung her children upside down and put knives to their throats. She had to protect you, or her children. Who do you think she chose?"

"I should've paid her more money."

"Why didn't you? You are a billionaire many times over."

"Honestly, I don't know. She is an excellent maid, and worth 3 times the money I pay her."

"Well Mister Watley let's get back to business. Let's go to your office."

As number 20, walked with Watley to his office, his team was bringing in the incapacitated guards. Each of them had been given an injection to keep them asleep, while they were transferred to separate panic rooms. 9 and 10 went to the ultralight room, and brought Julio down and placed him into a panic room, before he woke up.

All phones were destroyed, personal cell phones removed from their bodies, and the keypads to exit the panic rooms were burnt to a crisp by acid. All the weapons were removed from the rooms, and after they closed the doors from the outside, steel pegs were hammered in, under the bottom opening to make sure the doors would not move.

It took the 6 strongest men to move Delta into his panic room. He was a bear of a man, and as the Colonel wished he was not seriously hurt. He was also the first one to come out from under the sedative.

When he realized what was happening to him his training kicked in, and he began fighting the men who were laying him on the floor.

1 and 2 drew their weapons on him. They told him to stop, or they would be forced to shoot him.

He stopped.

"Sergeant, you ran into a buzz-saw outside, and there was nothing you could do about it. Number 20 specifically told us not to harm you, because you are a brother in arms. Please do not make us hurt you. There will be hell to pay, when we have to explain to him why we did."

"I agree. I will take no further action against you. Can you at least tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I would have to ask number 20's permission to do that for you."

"I know I have no right to ask as a prisoner, but I'd really like to know. You've got rubber bullets in your guns, specifically for me, and you took the other guys down. I find that very interesting."

"I will ask him, but I'll leave you with this one admonition. If you try to escape, number 19 has an M-16 standing by the front door. It does not have rubber bullets in it."

"I told you I would not take any action against you. I give you my word, I won't."

"I'll be right back."

*****************

"Number 20, may I have a moment of your time?"

"Yes, Mister Watley and I have not started. Let's step outside his office."

"What is the problem number 1?"

"Sir, Delta has asked why this operation is going on. He knows we shot him in the legs, with rubber bullets, specifically not to harm him, and he finds it odd. We told him you told us not to hurt him, and is curious. I told him I would have to ask you for permission."

"That's a very interesting turn of events, don't you think number 1?"

"If Watley never confided in him what he was doing, and he was only a rich guy that need guarding during the day, he might not know a thing about what was going on."

"Join Watley; keep your weapon out, and pointed at him. If he makes any sudden moves, shoot him in his left arm. He is a left handed, and that should disable him."

"Yes sir."

**********

"Delta come with me."

They sat down in the plush living room area, and the Colonel said, "You may refer to me as number 20. What is your name soldier?"

"Chief Master Sergeant Harry Chase, Sir."

"What do you do for Mister Watley, Master Sergeant?"

"I am the head of Mr. Watley's security team."

"Do you have access to his computers?"

"No sir, only his senior staff does."

"Where does he keep his passwords?"

"I'm not sure sir. I believe he keeps them in his checkbook. He never writes checks, but he always refers to it."

"That's very important information Master Sergeant. I will look into it. Now, what did you want from me?"

"Why all the firepower to take down a stock trader. I know he's rich and all, but he has a lot of people working for him that are rich also."

"Master Sergeant are you familiar with the super rocket that's being built to take 4 people to Mars, at the cost of $1 Trillion dollars to the American public?"

"Yes sir, isn't everyone?"

"What if I were to tell you that your boss is the number 2 man in a conspiracy to blow up that rocket, so the next one that is built would cost the American public $1.5 Trillion Dollars."

"Sir, first I would ask for proof of that allegation. Then I would ring his neck, until he was dead."

"Master Sergeant, in 2 days, the FBI is going to impound all his records. Then, within 10 days, they are going to arrest him for securities fraud. We are helping the FBI, along with the Department of Justice, to find the number one man in this conspiracy. We believe he is hiding in Switzerland, and I am about to get that information from Mister Watley, one way or the other. By the end of today, Mister Watley will be dead. Can you live with that Master Sergeant?"

"What proof do you have of this conspiracy?"

"We followed the money. 2 men tried to blow up the spaceship called, "Good Luck 1."

"I remember that, it was in the news."

"They were paid and insignificant amount of money, but we were able to trace it to the man who paid it. He led us to a Boston Mafia figure, who believed he was untouchable. We wiped out him and the White Hill Gang out of existence to get to the next man up the ladder."

"Holy crap, that was you guys?"

"Yes, that was us. Then we ran into a problem. The next man up had no knowledge of where his payments came from. It was always done by courier, as well as the deliveries down the ladder. He had no next of kin except his niece, who was an outstanding lawyer, and had nothing to do with him. There was no way in hell we were going to hurt her, because of him. We got rid of him in the Las Vegas desert, and put her in charge of his business.

One day a mysterious package was left in the front of their office. We planted a very experienced woman as her secretary, and she saw the package first. She evacuated the building and called me. I called a friend at the police department and he brought a bomb sniffing dog with him. The dog didn't stop at the package and the handler had to bring him back to it to test it again. There was nothing explosive in it.

When I opened it, the package had 2 sets of schematics for the rocket. One was the original, the other was what they wanted to do to have it explode on takeoff.

Due to the amount of fuel on board, the blast would have been as large as the original bomb at Hiroshima. The people sitting in the executive gallery, miles away, would've been killed by flying aluminum, and other parts of the rocket as they moved at supersonic speeds.

That includes anyone, from the President on down, who attended the event. We expect there would be many absentees that day, because of the amount of devastation that would take place. Everyone would have an excuse, like they had the bird flu, or some other curable disease. It would be too late for the astronauts, and for the people on the ground, who died needlessly for one simple reason; Greed.

I called a friend, who called a friend, who called the FBI headquarters, in Las Vegas. He asked for an agent, and a technical whiz to meet with us, on neutral ground. They were sent to this secret meeting to verify the authenticity of the original plans, and the doctored plans, to see what would happen to the rocket, if it was built to the specifications of the altered plans. He was the one who told us what would happen, when the rocket exploded below 5000 feet.

The originals, and the copies were given to the FBI agent, and sent off to Washington that evening for verification. They were taken to the Director, who walked them over to the Attorney General. The AG set up an immediate meeting with the President. The President called in every one, including the Chiefs of Staff, the CIA, and the complete alphabet soup of Intelligence Agencies. They couldn't agree on who should verify the altered documents. This friend of my friend told the president to have these men pick out 12 independent scientists to verify the plans. They did, along with many other things that are not germane to this story. That's why we are working with the FBI, to take down Mister Watley, and to find out who is the tip of the spear."

"This is a no shit story Master Sergeant. I can give you the name of the FBI agent if you wish. She will grill you to find out how you got this information. However, it would implicate you in the death of Mister Watley, which I do not wish to do. No one here has been killed. Everyone is in a separate panic room. There are enough supplies for 10-days of food and water in each room for 10 people.

Mrs. Watley will be back in 3 days. The maid is due here soon, and before we leave, we will tie her up with rope. She will be able to escape a few hours after we leave. She will call the police and tell them something is wrong. They will be all over this place by this evening, and bring in the FBI, because Mister Watley is missing, and he is the subject of their investigation.

That's the entire story Master Sergeant, except Mister Watley will attempt to escape using his ultralight, which is upstairs above the second floor. Number 19 will shoot out the wires that attach the airfoil to the seat, when he is sufficiently far over the bay. Mister Watley will fall in the water, and die."

"Number 19 must be one hell of a shot."

"Yes he is."

"Is there any chance of my joining your group? I'd like to get my hands on this top guy, because anyone trying to kill the President of the United States should be dismembered, very slowly."

"You are a man after my own heart Master Sergeant. I'll have Mister Watley give you paper and a pen so I can check you out. If you pass muster, you will receive a phone call. If not, I congratulate you on your service to our country."

"Thank you very much Colonel."

"How did you know?"

"You are a legend sir. After they make us read all the technical army shit, we all go back and read about what you did, and your methods of command. The guys who went through the course before us make sure we have every one of your words memorized. That's why we work so well together. It doesn't matter if the captain gives the order, or if it's the private, whoever sees the danger, and gives the order, is in command.

You said that back in the middle 1970's, through the early 1980's, before they kicked you out. They should've made you a General, but they couldn't see the forest through the trees."

"Master Sergeant Chase return to your quarters. It would look very bad for you not to be among the captured, when the police get here. Write down what I need to know, and hand it to me. I will get back in touch with you, within a few weeks."

"Thank you, sir."

Chief Master Sergeant Chase stood up, saluted the colonel sharply, and returned to the safe room. He said to numbers 2,3, and 4, "The colonel is quite a man. Don't ask me how I know, but I do. That information will never pass my lips."

**********************

"Thank you, number 1, Mister Watley and I will now begin our conversation. Would you get my medical kit, and bring it in here, please? Also have numbers 15 and 16 bring in their implements."

"Mister Watley, would you please clear your desk of everything. You are going to be lying on your desk, in excruciating pain, if you lie to me."

He did as he was asked.

"Do you have expensive cowboy boots, Mister Watley?"

"Yes, I have several pair in my upstairs closet."

Number 1 returned with the medical kit, and opened it to show a variety of torture implements. James Watley's eyes showed fear as he had never known it before.

"Number 1, Mister Watley would like to change his shoes. In his closet are several pair of cowboy boots. You know the type we want; would you get them for him, please."

"Yes sir."

In his closet were boots that ranged from ankle length, to just below the knee. Number 1 chose those, even though they had a side zipper, which would allow him to get out of the boots quickly. Superglue would end that fantasy.

He returned to Watley's office, removed his shoes, put the boots on him. He asked number 15 for the glue, which was included in his implements. Number 15 usually used the glue to keep the victims' eyelids open, so we had to watch what was being done to him.

Using it to keep the zipper up, insured that any water that got into the boots would add extra weight to Watley's legs, and eventually drag him down to the bottom of the bay. The natural tidal movement of the water would drag the ultralight out to sea, and make any search of the area, both time-consuming, and exceedingly expensive. Hopefully, the indigenous creatures that crawled at the bottom of the bay would feast on Watley's body, adding additional time for the authorities to find, and identify him, that is if they ever found him in the first place.

"Number 15, would you find a stud, take a spike, and show Mr. Watley what happens?"

"Yes sir."

"This should be of interest to you, Mr. Watley. Picture your hands lying flat on your desk with number 16 holding it tightly, and number 15 driving a spike just like this, through it, and into your desk."

Number 15 used his stud finder, placed the spike on the spot, and with one powerful blow drove the spike half way into the stud.

"How loud would you scream Mister Watley, when that happens to you? It will happen to you, when you lie to me. Do you have a disc player in this room?"

"I can play any disc you want on my computer."

"A word of warning Mister Watley, if you try to erase anything on that computer, I will begin to fillet the skin off your body."

"I promise, I will just boot up the computer, put your disc in, and hit play. Your disc is the only thing that will show up on the screen."

"Watch this disc closely, because this could be you next. You have a chance at life and we will accompany you to Switzerland on your private jet, which is due to take off sometime this afternoon. We can't get to your money, because you transferred it out of the country. That was a very smooth move Mister Watley, because in a few days, we may have been able to take a few dollars from you, and leave you a very wealthy man. We don't want you, we want the tip of the spear. I want you to watch what happens to everyone that lied to me. Don't be next or you will get the same treatment. Here is the disc. It is not the original, and there are many copies of it. The FBI will be impounding your records in 2 days. Wouldn't you like to be in Switzerland, with me, and my crew, instead of in jail?"