It Ain't Paranoia if... Pt. 02 Ch. 10

His partner was grinning and shaking his head. "I reminded him about how to act before we came up here, but he's a cocky little shit! This might take him down a notch or two, if it's who I think it is."

The cocky pissant turned an ever-whiter shade of pale the longer he listened to General Lee speak, which was several minutes. After he hung up, he wiped sweat from his brow and apologized profusely.

"Hrump," I answered, and with a pronounced Texas twang said, "Just remember to mind your Ps and Qs out chere in West Texas; we don't put up with much from disrespectful outlanders.

"Now, I assume you're through with me, but you said you wanted to talk to my wife and Claude Edwards. They are in the other room; want me to bring them in?"

"No sir, that won't be necessary. The Attorney General's orders were quite clear, so we're leaving now. Thank you for your time, Sir."

The special agent started following the pissant out the door, but stopped, winked, waited, and loudly whispered, "That might be more than two notches." He continued chuckling as walked away.

Claude, Kaitlyn, all the rest of the elders were bent over in laughter when I walked back in. I ignored their comments and cracks about me being mean to the nice boy, being an old curmudgeon, hurting his feelings, and other such foolishness.

I got a cup of coffee, and observed, "The boy needed a lesson a'fore his battleship mouth overloads his rowboat ass." The laughter and harassment continued while I drank my coffee, looking serenely out the window. No asshole agent is going to ruin my day, when my day doesn't include missiles, aircraft, and exploding ordnance.

****

By the second of January, roads throughout the region were teeming with law enforcement officers from around the state - DPS troopers, Texas Rangers, even game wardens, had been brought to our area to assist in the searches and investigations, and, with national guardsmen, to enforce martial law. Even understanding the need, we chaffed at the curfews, travel restrictions, roadblocks and checkpoints manned by heavily armed troops, and other limitations on the personal freedoms we cherish out here in the high desert and mountains.

Exasperated by the situation, I first approached Eva with my idea. She met with her PA and the traveling NP, and then we approached the others, beginning with Kaitlyn. As expected, she practically jumped for joy at the prospect!

Bill, Claire, Joe, Brooke, and Beverly were still at the Mountain Lair, supposedly because authorities in Tennessee weren't certain they had cleared their properties of IEDs left by the sicarios. Personally, I believed they were content being here with their grandchildren and the extended family that had developed. Of course, they were more than willing to go anywhere with us and the kids.

The Edwards Boys felt Esteban and the ISR were the critical players from our team as this played out, so they felt no obligation to stay. Beverly's four male companions were willing if she was, and Ashley was ecstatic that we might get some business done... and she and Clay might have time together as well.

The Edwards chose our security team. I called our hosts to reschedule, cancelled the plane tickets, and chartered a plane to take us to Romania. The only plane with the kind of range to take 25 people to Romania was a Boeing Business Jet. That charter would cost me more than I made the first year I went into business for myself, so I hit up the companies and country that stood to make hundreds of millions from a new deal, and they picked up some of the cost.

It was still an obscene chunk of change out of my pockets, but my cut would be offset within a few months if we get the business done. So, here we are at Midland International Air and Space Port, climbing onto a ridiculously plush B737 with my darling wife and kids, and a bunch of kin and friends. We're headed for two weeks (or longer) at a luxury ski resort outside Sibiu, in the southern Carpathian Mountains of Romania.

Yeah, Ashley and I will have some (potentially very lucrative) business to conduct, but: we're all still alive after what might have become Armageddon; I have a contract to get the debris removed and repairs made at the Desert Lair; and the two Lake Lairs will be ready by May.

The icing on the cake is, as far as I know, mine enemies are all dead or incarcerated!

Still, my paranoia intrudes on my quiet time. Or maybe it ain't paranoia...

****

For those who made it to this point, after months and months of delays, thank you for sticking with me. I'm recovering nicely, IMO, and regaining my strength. I'm going to let Rob, Kaitlyn, and the crew enjoy their vacation for a while and turn to other interesting characters.

I've got a hankering to revisit and repost Comeuppance, after it became a casualty of excessive snowflake reports. I have a story outlined I'm calling "The Road to Perdition" that enthralls me, Silas and Lily are chafing under the new regime in Austin, Barbara Ann and Caelan's daughter is 18 and restless on the beach at Port A; and I've returned to tinkering with two stories I started in 2018 - "A Voice from the Grave" and "Alpine Holiday."

No promises because I have follow up testing to do and grandchildren to catch up with, but, for better or worse, God willing and the creeks don't rise, I'll be back.