Indiscreet while Undercover

Velcro must be a blessing to strippers as her leotard flew away as the speakers pumped out: 'Let's get animal, animal - I wanna get animal, Let's get into animal'. She definitely let her body talk!

The crowd kept demanding an encore, but Brandy dashed off the stage without returning. As I was backstage, I watched her towel her face and then fold it about her neck. Then she noticed me.

I smiled and gave a silent clap. She pulled on a robe and just as I hoped, she wandered over to me. Instead of the provocative hip wiggle she employed on stage, her walk was smooth and efficient. She took the seat next to me.

As she demurely smiled at me, I broke the silence by saying: "You are a talented performer. Have you considered movies or the stage?"

My comment must have surprised her in a pleasant way. "Well thank you Wyatt. This is what I really like doing, particularly acts like that little show. I still amaze myself with the buzz I feel when dancing. It is hard to describe, but as a woman there are few other experiences that give you that sense of power and control over men."

I was digesting her comment when her robe falling either side of her shapely legs distracted me. Quickly regaining my composure, I asked: "Will you be performing again tonight?"

"No that is it for now. I didn't have any special clients today," she explained with a wink, "so I have been on stage doing extra shows since lunch time. You must have missed my other dances?"

Strangely I felt guilty as I replied: "Yes. A few of us had to gather our things and move in upstairs?"

"Really! That is going to be awkward for business. How long is that for?"

"I have no idea. You will probably have to ask Earl or maybe Rosie."

"Is it something exciting that I could get involved with?"

As she was studying my face, I wondered if this was part of Earl's security plan. Was Brandy quizzing me to see if I had loose lips? Keeping my reaction as inscrutable as possible, I just shrugged before adding: "I don't know what you are on about."

I didn't want her to leave as I was enjoying the most pleasant aromas radiating from her body following her energetic performance. I was wondering what to say, so I was relieved when Brandy changed her approach and started asking questions about me. It started with: "Where are you from?"

It was always difficult to answer this type of question. I needed to keep my real identity a secret, but I knew it was too easy to be caught out if I strayed too far from the truth. I didn't feel that as a hooker, Brandy was likely to check my background, however I had this strange desire for her to know me better. My answer was simple. "Near Barnwell, South Carolina."

"So, you must be a country boy?"

"Is it obvious?"

"Not really. You just said near Barnwell. Actually, I am a country girl ... hey, but don't let anyone else know. My slick image is worth money to me. I often adopt diverse backgrounds to make clients more comfortable."

"My parents have about 150 acres. Cotton is the main money earner, but we usually have beans, peas, sweet potatoes plus a few cows, hogs and eggs. So where are you from?"

"Iowa, near Maxwell. We had corn and beef. I noticed that Brandy became saddened noticeably." Almost as if she needed to change the focus from herself, she asked: "Why did you leave home?"

"I have two older brothers who want to stay farming, but the property is too small to support more than one family. I realized early on I would have to find something else. I spent some time in the Army and then travelled. I decided I liked the West and its more easy-going, tolerant attitudes."

Brandy was either considering my answer or was ruminating on what she might say. I decided to prompt her. "Why did you leave home?"

There was a delay before she said: "Well ... My Mom's new boyfriend was starting to get too friendly with his hands ... and ... despite my resistance he made it clear he would not be stopped. That day I packed a bag and have not been home since."

I wanted to show my empathy but couldn't decide on an appropriate response, I remained silent. This prompted her to continue: "I was just 18, with no real money. I hitched my way to Oregon to my aunt's. She gave me a bed but as she had no money either, I started waitressing."

I could see that Brandy had become despondent recalling her past. Hoping to raise her spirits, I offered: "Well you must have proven your strength to be so independent and confident."

"Yeah ... I guess." After another period of introspection, she said: "Other than my aunt, I have never told anyone else about my past. I don't know why I told you ... surprisingly I feel better having shared it with you."

"We learn from our experiences. Yours may have better prepared you for your future. Thank you for sharing and trusting me. I understand what it is like to make your way without help."

She then gave me more of her story. "My aunt was an immense help. She bullied me into attending a school for six months so that I could sit my SAT."

"How do you go?"

"Pretty good. But I didn't have any money, so I moved to Los Angeles for work to save before attending College."

I wanted to know more about Brandy. Reluctantly I held back from further interrogation in case I sounded intrusive, so I was disappointed when she told me that she needed to go to bed. Apparently, she was also sleeping upstairs. I was delighted when she placed her hand on my thigh as if using me as a boost to stand up.

I followed her and said goodnight as she entered the room next to the one allocated to me. After entering my room and checking my watch, I appreciated that for the last hour I had enjoyed a most congenial connection.

As I lay back in bed, I could not shake Brandy from my thoughts. She had beauty, intelligence and personality; more than any girl I had previously met. She had all the qualities I had been looking for in a partner. Of course, considering a hooker as a possible wife was ridiculous, particularly for a law officer. Even if she liked me that did not mean she would ever agree to giving up doing her tricks for money. Yet she was so enticingly feminine.

I then wondered why I was even having such thoughts. I consoled myself by deciding that even if it was unrealistic, there was no reason not to dream of enjoying a night with her.

It wasn't until I woke in the morning that I realized that although my fantasies had delayed my sleep, it was the first night that I had slept through without being plagued by nightmares about the Alejandro shooting.

After a basic breakfast of cereal, toast and coffee, Earl called me to his office. "I need you to come with me. You are riding shotgun, so make sure you are carrying. Wait a minute ... you can drive. Meet me at my truck in half an hour."

Once we were both in his GMC Sierra pickup, Earl directed: "Head south on the Harbor Freeway to Compton. I will tell you where to turn."

In silence, we drove for ten minutes before Earl explained what he wanted. "You are not to share these details with anyone else in the crew. We are meeting with a guy who uses the moniker of Miguel. I am going to negotiate the purchase of weapons from this guy. Don't speak unless spoken to and don't show your gun unless it is absolutely necessary. I am not expecting trouble, but Miguel is not known for his forgiving nature."

I simply acknowledged with: "Got it."

We pulled up at a warehouse. As directed, I drove inside, then the door was closed after us. On exiting the truck, I just followed Earl's lead.

A dark-haired man with a well-tanned complexion was sitting at a table by himself. This was Miguel. He also had three heavies strategically placed about him. They each carelessly carried a variety of automatic weapons slung from their shoulders. Their casualness was all a veneer as their eyes never strayed from us. A fourth man came up behind us, probably after closing the door.

After Earl sat opposite, Miguel challenged: "Are you ready to make a deal?"

"Yes!" Earl bluntly replied. "I just need to confirm the price and exchange details."

"The price is the same. Three hundred grand in used unmarked bills." Then Miguel slid across the table a cell phone. "Don't use this phone for any other purpose. Be parked in the Junipero Beach carpark close to the Long Beach Lifeguards at 8 am next Sunday. You will then get one phone call to tell you where we will conduct the exchange. Just bring yourself and one other."

Not much else was said. Earl stood up and exchanged contemplative glances at each of the men and then he turned back to the truck. I reversed out and then commenced the long drive back to the club.

Numerous questions were in my mind, but I knew Earl would explain only what was necessary. I tried to calculate how many weapons could be bought for three hundred grand. I then wondered if Earl had that sort of ready cash.

"I am starting to appreciate why my cousin, Louie recommended you." I wasn't expecting Earl's comment, so I just looked at him questioningly to see if he would explain.

"If I had chosen one of those other fools to drive, they would be pestering me with questions. I know your no idiot, so I expect you have some questions." Once again, we traded looks.

"Save them for tomorrow. I will answer everything then. Louie said you were handy at boosting cars."

"Well ... you can only hot wire older cars that were manufactured before the mid-90s. With the modern security systems, you need to do a relay theft or start it through the OBD2 port."

"I don't know what that means, but you think you could steal us a truck like this?"

"Sure, I will have to collect the necessary equipment stored at Louie's. I will need the best part of a day and an assistant to help me."

"Fine. That's your job for Thursday. If something goes wrong, I want a vehicle that can't be traced back to me."

Back at the club, Bill asked: "Where've you been?"

Avoiding giving him any details, I simply explained: "Earl wanted to test my driving skills." That seemed to keep him satisfied.

I was feeling better now that there was some progress. As I had put my life on hold, I was now impatient for this to end. I had to work out how I could get word out to my Bureau contacts. As I contemplated ordering another delivered dinner, I regretted not having a contact work for Taco Bell. I could have used the menu order as some form of code. Maybe that would be an idea for next time ... for someone else.

After dinner in my room, I sat backstage. Brandy was performing again. When she finished, she changed for her next act but sat next to me as she waited. I knew she didn't favor any other of Earl's guys, so I was thrilled that she accepted me as an interesting companion. I carefully concealed the tremor she produced in me when she welcomed me with an animated smile.

"How's it going Wyatt?"

"Fine ... and you?"

"I have almost finished my shift." Brandy then turned towards me and in a conspiratorial voice asked: "Why do some of the guys refer to you as Wyatt Earp?"

I groaned silently. It was not something I wanted to discuss, particularly with Brandy. Hoping to divert her interest I made a quick rejoinder: "That's not fair! I have never been a buffalo hunter, miner or boxing referee."

"I think they were speaking in admiration of your skill with a gun."

As solemnly as I could I explained: "I was a good shot in the Army, but I am not an assassin. I also don't intend to stay in this line of work any longer than is necessary."

"Well, that is good to know. I share your ambitions about moving into another line of employment as soon as feasible. You must then have some long terms dreams."

"Hey, I would like to have money ... just enough for security. I want to have a comfortable home on several acres of rolling hills covered with trees just outside a rural town where I work. My job must provide plenty of autonomy and gratification for my efforts. I have been considering being a teacher as I like passing on my knowledge to kids. Plus, teachers receive longer holidays and I still want to travel as much as I can."

"And marriage?"

"I said I like kids." Then I joshed: "Unfortunately, marriage seems to be the most efficient manner of acquiring them." Then after some consideration, I added: "At least three."

"Kids or marriages?" Brandy teased.

"Kids of course ... although you did ask what my dream was!"

We shared a laugh and then she revealed: "I like your dream. All of it, but I would write and illustrate children's stories."

We continued elaborating on our dreams until she had to leave to perform again. As she departed, she companionably tapped me on the shoulder.

Again, I was entranced by her movements on stage. I also wondered if it would be possible to share such a dream with this fallen angel. While it was a pleasant fantasy, I was also realistic about holding false hopes. My pragmatism was reinforced when she didn't even look in my direction as she left the stage, after being called by Rosie.

Wednesday morning, the guys were called to Earl's office again. This time Rosie was also present. Once there was silence and he had our attention, Earl commenced. "I don't want you to discuss these details outside of this room. If you have questions later, you come to me. I will outline the broad plan; then Terry will cover the details of the heist; Tyrone will cover the details at the warehouse; then I will broadly outline phases 2 and 3."

We all sat expectantly, however Earl paused to build the suspense. "It commences this Friday. Phase 1 is the heist of an armored security truck; we will use this money for Phase 2, the purchase of weapons; Phase 3 is the sale of the weapons which will more than double our money."

Terry then took over. "We are going to take an armored security truck from along Newbery Road ... here." He pointed to a map and a more detailed drawing. The security company has been doing this same collection from small suburban banks for 20 years. They have never been interfered with, so they have given the job to a couple of guards who are both in their 60s. However, they always collect between three and five hundred grand. Generally, it is towards the higher figure on Fridays. Isn't that right, Victor?"

"Yeah, even the company calls it the milk run."

Pointing to the diagram, Terry continued: "We are going to stop the armored truck ... here! We will have two vehicles overtake the truck along the western section of the road where it is two lanes. Then when it reduces to one lane, the second vehicle will rear end the first effectively blocking the road. We will have a third vehicle following behind to block them in."

Earl then directed: "Terry will be driving the first car. Wyatt will drive the second car with Bill. Victor will be with me in a new pickup. Victor and Bill know how to drive the armored truck. Tyrone will be waiting at the warehouse."

Terry resumed: "We will then all approach the truck with weapons drawn. Once we gain entry to the cab, Victor will plug the GPS jammer into the cigarette lighter and drive it to the warehouse along this route." He pointed to the map where the roads had been marked to the destination. Oh, just a point. Wyatt, just make sure that your rear ending doesn't seriously damage either car as we will need to be able to move them to clear the road."

Earl then gestured to Tyrone who took over. Tyrone pointed to the map to explain the route for the armored truck. "There are a series of warehouses adjacent to each other in this street. The warehouses all look quite different as they were constructed at various times. At this warehouse, I will open the doors as the armored truck appears. It is painted green, so you won't miss it. Once the truck is inside, I will close the door. Inside the warehouse we have constructed a metal shed big enough to take the truck. We can close this shed which will act as a Faraday cage preventing the GPS location being tracked. This should give us sufficient time to open the back of the armored truck, open the security containers and transfer the money to Earl's prepositioned GMC Sierra next door. If we don't have the keys, I have an array of bolt cutters, grinders and cutting tools."

After a pause he continued: "We are also borrowing the adjacent warehouse to the east. It is painted black. Let's call it the black warehouse to distinguish it from the green warehouse. The remaining cars will take this different route and enter the black warehouse from the rear street. That is where Earl's GMC will be prepositioned. The other cars can park in there until we transfer the money and then we all depart. There is one panel between the two warehouses that I can move aside temporarily to enable access."

Earl took over. "We will not come back to the club until we complete the whole job in case our identity is blown, so put a change of clothes in the cars. Rosie will run the club for the next week. Rosie, you will still have the two bouncers."

Continuing, Earl explained: "I will outline Phases 2 and 3 as they are not as complex. Phase 2 has already been set up for Sunday morning." Wyatt and I will take a new pickup to swap three hundred grand for the weapons. Phase 3 will be early on the following Tuesday. Bill has arranged for the sale of these weapons to a group in Wyoming. Bill has the details. We will depart Monday morning in the new pickup in time to reach the planned exchange RV in Utah. The price promised is six hundred grand."

There were a few whistles of pleasure and happy faces. With a covetous tone Tyrone then asked: "How many ways are we splitting it?"

"I haven't worked out the breakup yet. It depends on the size of the haul and there are some costs to be covered. I intend to keep a float of three hundred grand so we can do it again without the risk of an armored truck heist. You should get at least thirty grand and then more for each other job we pull."

Earl then reminded me: "I want you to acquire the new pickup tomorrow. That will limit the time it is missing."

I acknowledged, but there was the issue that had been bothering me since yesterday. I had to ask: "How are we going to fit three or six hundred grand worth of weapons in a pickup?"

Earl gave a self-satisfied smile. "That is the beauty of the arrangement. As we are buying just a few valuable weapons, they are easier to move. We are getting 30 LAW M72s. For those that haven't heard of them, they are like portable anti-tank rockets."

To myself I exclaimed: 'Fuck!' I now knew why I had been sent undercover. The Bureau had instructed me to maintain my cover until I had found all the players. They needed to know about the supplier, Miguel, and the Wyoming group.

I was considering when would be the best time to contact the Bureau when Earl asked: "Are there any questions?"

This reminded me of another significant problem with the plan. I knew that if innocent people were likely to be hurt, I would have to report my concerns to the Bureau. This would blow my undercover identity and prevent me from finding the link to the gun runners. I couldn't continue if there was a high probability the guards would be killed, so I asked: "Going back to the heist, how are we going to get the guards to open the cab of the truck?"

"Oh! Didn't I cover that," Once again Earl exclaimed with the cockiest of grins. "Victor is with me as he can use a Barret M82 rifle. It fires a 50cal slug that will go through any of their windows and probably through the doors."

I could see that Earl was pleased with his revelation, but this was clumsy and dangerous. I didn't want to bring myself under suspicion or be considered a naysayer, so I very carefully started to explain my reservations.

"I suspect you believe that one round will be enough to get the guards to capitulate. I see two problems: It may be the milk run, but old guys often turn out to be stubborn sons of bitches as their families have grown up and no longer need their support. The second problem is that the shot will immediately call attention to the heist making police reaction almost immediate. If they are stubborn, how many rounds will it take and how long to subdue them, particularly if they decide to return fire? Remember if they are killed that doesn't open the cab doors."