Agency Assassin

Agency Assassin

By Al DesHôtel

Copyright © 2011 Al DesHôtel

Edited by Polly Mirkovich

Cover artwork & illustrations by Garry T. Spoor

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Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. All characters are fictional and any resemblances to actual persons living or dead is a coincidence.

Chapter 1

As Linc finished his breakfast late Sunday morning he thought about what he was going to do. There was the caulking of the garage door fascia but he didn’t really feel like messing with it. So he did one of his favorite pastimes – shooting. He loaded up the trusty Browning Superposed, his 4 box shell carrier of reloaded 12ga #9s, some ear muffs, a hat to cover is bald head and took off for the shooting range. The range was some 15 miles from his house but he selected it today since the closer one was likely to be flooded after last night’s thunderstorm. The closer one too only had 4 skeet fields and the far one had 10. Much better odds at getting a field. While he was at it Linc threw the .45 range bag and his well worn Colt 1911 into the trunk as an afterthought.

Arriving at noon he paid his money and headed for fields two and three where there was a crosswalk through the marshy ground. Arriving at the observation shed he watched as two men were halfway through the round. Another man whom introduced himself to Linc as Bob, was waiting and just wanted to shoot one quick round and he would be gone. The man went on to state that the two individuals shooting now were quite good and one had just pulled off a 23. Since 25 was a perfect score in American skeet this wasn’t bad Linc thought.

Linc waited for Bob to finish and then the two men, Harry and Jim got ready to start. The puller, Steve, introduced himself. Harry and Jim pulled an old timer trick of letting the new guy go first. Not what Linc wanted as he usually liked to pull that himself. Turning in a respectable 20 he noted with passing interest that Harry got a 16 and Jim an 18. After the second round, with a score of 23, Linc packed it in, tipping Steve on the way out. Although he had planned on four rounds shooting with others could be tiresome and slow, mostly in this case slow. Linc noticed that there was a guy with binoculars up the road a bit by the range house. He was looking towards field 3 where Linc had been shooting. As Linc looked at him the man quickly turned the other way. Casually to be sure but still quick enough to try and fake Linc out that he was just scanning the area. The man had on jeans, a button down tan shirt and a ball cap of some sort on. Nothing unusual there.

Wanting to give his Colt government model .45cal a workout after adjusting the length of the ejector, Linc then drove over to the pistol range and noted as he parked that it was fairly empty for a Sunday afternoon. Paying his fee and going to the range Linc waited for a cease fire to put up his targets. Popping though two boxes he was satisfied that the latest modifications to his ‘play’ gun were working he packed up to leave. As he walked away from the hot firing line with his range bag he noted that the same man as earlier was by the range house scanning the area with binoculars. Well, two could play this game Linc thought. Casually throwing his gear into the trunk he walked back to the range house. The man put away his binoculars and casually lit a cigarette.

Linc walked into the range house, went to the restroom and made a quick but not too quick chore of taking care of business. He then walked out of the restroom and noticed that the man was still outside smoking. Linc glanced at him for a moment on the way out, through the glass, and noted his features. He appeared about in his mid thirties with a moustache. Anglo descent for sure. On the man’s belt hung a cell phone. It looked like one of the radio/cellphones from what Linc could tell. Returning to his car Linc pulled out and drove slowly away. He headed for home. Watching his rearview carefully he noted that no one was following him.

Arriving at home he made a mental note of the cars parked on the street. Most appeared to be the usual array. Linc unloaded, cleaned his guns and put them away in the gun safe.

Monday morning Linc got up, showered, shaved and got dressed for work. He picked up his leather concealed carry vest and put it on last. Strictly verboten at work, the carrying of a concealed weapon could get him fired. However after the World Trade Center terrorist attack in New York, the constant general terrorist threat level and after one of the guys he had fired about a year ago nearly going postal on him it was a wise precaution. The guy watching him at the gun range though was foremost of the perceived threats today though. Arriving at work Linc took off the vest and hung it on the back of the door. He was sure that many of his co-workers knew he had a gun but none of them said anything. They too had been concerned when he fired Frank and the outburst with the hard drive being thrown across the room.

About 09:30 Gwen called. Linc here. He answered.

Linc, there are two gentlemen in the lobby to see you.

Who with?

They didn’t say.

I don’t recall any appointments this morning. Find out what they want. He waited and listed to the hold music for a moment.

They said it is personal business.

That took Linc by surprise. Who the hell would be showing up unannounced on personal business. Linc thought for a second. Gwen, hold on a second. Linc then flipped to line two and called the dispatch supervisor. Maria, hi. This is Linc. Can you look at your camera monitor and tell me what the two guys look like in the executive lobby? He waited a second.

They are both dressed in suits. Clean cut. Both gringos.

Any briefcases?

No.

Thanks Maria. Bye. Linc then flipped to line one, Gwen, escort them in please. Once you drop them at my office call security and have them take a walk down the hallway by my office.

Sure Linc. Are you expecting trouble?

I don’t know. Could be a couple of lawyers. Couldn’t be a subpoena that is usually just a deputy dropping that off. I have no idea of who or why. Just to be safe have security swing by.

Ok Linc. Bye.

Bye. Linc said and then reached behind his door and put on his vest. He unsnapped the pouch on the left side which held his H&K USP .45 and waited. He keyed up a mail message to Gwen and left it on the screen. He put in two messages, one that it was ok and one that he needed security, but didn’t send it.

Linc, these are the two gentlemen to see you. Gwen said. The two men who looked suspiciously to Linc like government entered the room and waited for Gwen to depart.

Thanks Gwen. Linc said. One of the men took a step and closed the door.

If you don’t mind Mr. Devereaux, you might not want everyone knowing. The man said as he closed the door.

Linc was twitchy for sure now. He didn’t go for his gun but certainly gave it some thought as he eyed the two men.

Mr. Devereaux may we see some identification?

Well that sort of depends. How about you show me yours first? Linc said.

Of course. The man said and slowly went for his wallet in a jacket pocket.

He withdrew it at the same time as the other guy did. They handed both to Linc. He opened the first one. It was the FBI. Lovely, Linc thought. The ID picture was that man alright, identified him as Jack Eddington. The other one was Mike Crisp of the FBI as well. Handing the IDs back to the agents, Linc then opened his wallet and allowed both his Texas drivers license and Texas concealed gun permit to show and handed it to Mr. Eddington. He glanced at it briefly, almost too briefly and handed it back.

Please have a seat gentlemen. Linc motioned to the two chairs.

Well Mr. Devereaux, if you don’t mind we would like for you to come with us. Agent Eddington said.

Why?

We would rather not go into it here.

Linc sat down in the chair and looked at the two agents. Well can you at least tell me how long it will take?

Probably not. But it won’t be any less than three to four hours. Agent Eddington said.

So I guess I had better cancel lunch then?

Sure.

Linc then erased the line about calling security and instead typed into the text message to cancel his appointments for the rest of the day. He then clicked on the out of office auto-reply and turned it on before sending the message to Gwen. He could see in the reflection of the monitor the Agent Eddington was watching him.

I guess you won’t tell me where we are going either? Linc asked hopefully.

Afraid not.

Well I do have a reason for asking. You see I won’t pass through most metal detectors cleanly. Linc stated, hoping that the Agents would make the obvious connection. When they didn’t say anything he added, So should I park my piece here?

We know you’re carrying. No problem. Agent Crisp said.

Linc looked at him and raised and eyebrow. He then gave the computer a three finger salute and locked it. Well then, let’s go. You’re buying lunch I presume.

Of course. Agent Eddington said.

Linc turned off his light and locked his office door. They then went the back way so that he wouldn’t have to answer any questions. Gwen could be a little too nosy. Until Linc was sure what the FBI wanted with him he didn’t want to say something he shouldn’t. In the parking lot they got into the obviously government issue unmarked vehicle with cop hub caps and proceeded out onto the road. Linc was now considering that the guy he saw at the range yesterday was an agent – but agent for whom?

Linc didn’t attempt any small talk on the way and the FBI agents didn’t offer any. Instead he paid close attention to where they were going. They didn’t turn around and watch him. He was seated in the back. Odd placement if they were intending on arresting him for something. This had to be something else, he wasn’t being taking anywhere on suspicion of anything. He turned over in his mind the many reasons why they would want to talk to him. It couldn’t be a background check for someone he knew. He had already experienced that once. An agent contacted him and had Linc meet at a designated spot, a single agent, and had asked lots of questions about a guy who worked for him. Right now Linc only knew of one employee who had once held a secret clearance and that guy was ex-Navy and most definitely not in the reserves.

After driving in on U.S. highway 290 they hit the I-610 loop and went north. Linc suspected that they were headed for the Houston office of the FBI. He had passed it once tooling around and remembered it being inside of the loop on the NorthWest side of town. Sure enough they took the exit he remembered and pulled into the government building. Parking on the first level the agents got out without saying a word. Linc too got out.

Agent Crisp held the door while Linc followed Agent Eddington though. Inside was a standard security scanner setup. Agent Eddington took the walkway to the left. Linc followed. The security guard stepped forward to stop Linc. Eddington turned around, He’s with me. The guard sat back down. Linc and Agents Eddington and Crisp took the elevator to the fourth floor. Just off the elevator Agent Eddington signed a book at a guard station.

This way Mr. Devereaux. Eddington said.

He was led down the hallway and taken to an office marked 408. Inside was a mirror on one wall, a table and four chairs. Obviously an interrogation room. Odd, Linc thought.

Have a seat Mr. Devereaux. Someone will be with you shortly. Agent Eddington said and left.

Linc looked at his watch and noted that it was 10:20 in the morning. He was beginning to get hungry. He usually took lunch at 11:00 to beat the crowd – and because he seldom, if ever ate breakfast. Linc looked around the room for a few minutes. He then looked at the mirror. Obviously one-way. He could see a faint light on the other side – someone smoking a cigarette while they watched him. Odd he thought, most government buildings had long since banned smoking. He carefully positioned his chair with his back to the mirror, sort of sideways to the table. The other wall was non-descript and painted a pale green. In the corner was a small water cooler. Linc’s pager vibrated. He took it off of his belt and glanced at it – Gwen was paging him asking if everything was ok. He punched in a canned message that it was OK and hit the transmit key. He cleared it and returned it to his belt.

The door opened and three people entered. An older gentleman in a white shirt, tie and slacks; a man in his mid-thirties but of what appeared Middle Eastern or Baltic origin and another man who appeared Oriental in his features. The older man spoke first, Good morning Mr. Devereaux, My name is Dick Warren. He stuck his hand out.

Shaking Mr. Warren’s hand Linc nodded and then looked towards the other two men. Warren didn’t offer to introduce them. Have a seat Mr. Devereaux. Linc was very curious now. They had escorted him here and allowed him to keep his concealed weapon when they knew full well that he had it. He wasn’t under arrest or even suspicion of anything apparently. At least not in the usual manner.

Mr. Devereaux you are wondering what this is about. Let just say for the moment that it is a matter of national security.

Naturally. Linc said dryly.

Mr. Devereaux my associates here would like to ask you some questions. Warren said and nodded to the Middle-Eastern guy.

Mr. Devereaux, if you please, could you tell me why you traveled to the Ukraine in 1997?

This was certainly odd. Linc did travel there during that time but that was by now ancient history. This was the year 2012 and why on earth would the FBI and/or its ‘associates’ be interested now in his traveling there. I was looking for a wife. Linc answered a bit more shortly than he intended.

Please explain. The Middle-Eastern guy said.

I had met a girl named Oksana on the Internet and after a year of corresponding with her decided to go meet her in person. I went there with the intention of getting pictures with her to prove to INS that we had met and then bringing her to the U.S. on a K1 visa. Linc said.

And she lived in Kiev?

No, she lived in Odessa.

So you took a connecting flight from Kiev then?

Yes, since Odessa wasn’t as easy to get to from the west. I went via Paris on the way, spent the night in Kiev and then on to Odessa the next day. There are two different airports in Kiev, one for international flights and one for in-country flights. They are over an hour apart by car and so I spent the night before continuing on. Linc explained. Obviously they had to have a file on him a foot thick if they knew this.

And it didn’t work out?

In the end, no. I went there, spent a week with her and then after a few months she came to Houston. However, it turned out to be somewhat of a bait-n-switch and I sent her packing after a week and a half. Linc answered.

And since?

I only heard from her via email once. Linc answered.

So you have no further communications with anyone in the Ukraine?

No.

And your many trips to Mexico? The man asked after taking a few moments to think about the Ukrainian explanation.

Well I’ve had several vacations to Cancun which is but a two hour flight from here. Linc answered and looked intently at the Middle-Eastern man.

You say that as if you expect that I wouldn’t know that. He said coyly.

Given that you probably haven’t been in Houston that long it is doubtful. Linc answered.

You assume that why, exactly?

Given your accent, your looks and your being here now. If you are with the FBI you don’t spend that much time in country. Linc answered.

And your trips to San Diego? The Middle-Eastern guy asked.

To cross the border at Tijuana, obviously. Vacation down to Ensenda on fishing trips. Linc answered.

Fishing for what?

Not information, I assure you – once for Yellowtail and once for Albacore.

Yellowtail? The man asked somewhat confused.

Tuna. Fish.

Ah, fish. So you think I’m not with the FBI. Who do you think I work for? He asked and tilted his head back.

Mossad. Was Linc’s answer.

The guy just nodded slightly. Then the Oriental guy spoke, Mr. Devereaux, what can you tell us about this girl? He said and put a photograph on the table.

That would be Lili. Said she was from Hong Kong, before the turnover. I dated her for a while as you probably know. Her passport was U.K. Her English sucked. Said her family were diamond brokers. She was supposedly here on a student visa but didn’t go to school. Worked as a waitress for cash only.

And this guy? another photograph was showed.

I don’t know. Never saw him before. Do you mind telling me what you are looking for?

Mr. Devereaux, if you don’t mind we would like to ask the questions. Warren said.

Sure. Linc said somewhat put off.

Your friend, ‘Lili’, was actually working for the Chinese secret police. We lost her a few years ago. We think she is still in Houston but have no evidence of it. The oriental guy said.

Last I heard from her she had called my cellphone and said she was working at a Chinese buffet up off of 1960. That was probably two years ago. Linc said.

Do you know what this is? The Oriental guy put a small loc plastic bag down with something in it.

Linc picked it up and examined it. He opened the bag and smelled it briefly. Nitro cellulose compound. Extruded propellant. Commonly referred to as gunpowder. IMR normally makes stuff like this. Can’t say exactly without looking at it with a gas spectrograph.

Close enough. The Oriental guy said and whisked the bag back into his pocket. Do you know how to make a bomb?

Well I guess I could if pressed. What type?

Your choice. He said and waited.

Well there are many types. The propellant you have there is a sure burner but needs a detonator. Cannon fuse is easily obtainable mail-order. Then if you wanted something larger you could set that inside of a barrel of nitrate fertilizer. To get a quicker reaction place that next to a large can of peroxide for an oxidizer. Linc answered.

And larger? he prompted.

Nuclear. Tough to get the fuel for that. Simple enough to construct. A good twenty pounds of nitrocellulose propellant for a kicker charge. Shaped C4 would be better but tougher to obtain. Linc answered.

Shaped how?

Generally if you make a V the point is opposite to the direction of the majority of the blast. In the case of nuclear detonation you want to reach critical mass. Usually that is done by slamming two or more pieces of fissionable material together very quickly. Then it goes boom. Linc answered.

What is the cyclic fire rate of an Uzi 9mm? The Middle-Eastern man asked.

Between 600 and 1250 or so rounds per minute, depending on model. Linc answered.

The Oriental guy looked at Warren and nodded. The Middle-Eastern guy thought for a second and then looked at Warren. Thank you Mr. Devereaux. If you will just relax for a few minutes my associates and I have to talk.

And the guy behind the mirror? Linc asked.

Him too. Warren answered, aware that the ruse didn’t work with the likes of Linc Devereaux.

--**--

Mr. Warren, what I’ve seen so far is promising. To say that he looks like Jerome St. John would be an understatement. I actually met the man once at an arms show. However I still don’t understand why you think that this is the man for the mission – presuming that the mission is even achievable in the first place. A second Middle-Eastern man said to the group of agents gathered down the hall from where Devereaux waited.

Agent Goldman, here are a few facts for you. Mr. Devereaux was a licensed pilot which will help in any covert operation. He is a licensed radio operator which means he won’t be confused by any radio gear used. He obviously knows his small weapons and from these shooting range reports knows how to hit what he is aiming at. From this report on his purchases of ammunition loading supplies he knows quiet a bit about making bullets and does so regularly. From his travel report he has been to a few places and seemed to fare pretty well. Indeed, it is not every person that I know who would undertake to go to a formerly communist republic. He holds degrees in Computer Science, Mechanical Engineering and Physics. From a report of his former employer they are still using programs he wrote more than 20 years ago – utterly amazing in the computer field. This proposal he sent to various agencies on security improvements for airlines hit home pretty hard to some, they had all overlooked some key points that he outlined. His reporting skills alone were very succinct and to the point. Warren said.

But Agent Warren you are missing a few key items. He has to not only know how to hit the target but not be afraid to use the gun. And then to pull the trigger. He also has to have no problem working with Mr. St. John’s girlfriend. Goldman said.

The gun issue should be simple enough to test for. And the girl issue too. Would you be satisfied then?

No, but at least you would have my cooperation then. Goldman said.

Warren thumped his fingers on the table a few times then picked up the phone and dialed a number. Find Agent Banks and send her to room 414. Gather up a turkey sandwich and a drink and deliver it to room 408. Have Pete from the armory sent up to 414 also. Thanks. Bye.

How exactly do you plan to answer the question about if he will pull the trigger? Goldman asked.

Field test. Careful setup and monitoring. Warren said and then turned to agent Crisp, Mike find me a target. Someone dark skinned but not Hispanic. Bullet proof vest. If agent Banks agrees to take her mission I’ll need the volunteer at her apartment with a silenced automatic, blanks only. Probably around 18:00 I would think.

Got it. Mike Crisp said and left.

Sort of dicey, isn’t it? Goldman asked.

We’ll just make sure that when he leaves here that he leaves with the proper ammunition. Once he gets home where his weapons are located all bets would be off. Warren said.

So he passes the shooting test, passes the girl test. What about the issues of speaking French, and more importantly staying alive. St. John isn’t exactly on the top ten wanted list but he does make a nice target; usually for his suppliers or customers. Agent Chou said.

True, but have you ever noticed how St. John’s ‘acquaintances’ end up dead pretty often? Agent Johnson of the CIA said.

There was a knock at the door and Chou opened it. Pete ‘bullet’ Blair walked in. Agent Warren stood up and offered his hand, Good to see you Pete. We have a challenge for you. He motioned to the TV screen showing the interior of room 408 and the waiting Devereaux. That is Mr. Devereaux and he seems to know his guns pretty well. I need you to take him down to the range and give him a quick, one to two hour evaluation of his shooting skills. See if he can hit the target. Then I need you to pull something for me. I need you to get his weapon from him, under the guise of inspection I suppose, and swap the ammo in it for me. Make damned sure he doesn’t have an extra clip on him. I need you to put in the gelatin blanks for me.

You mean candy bullets? Pete asked.

Those are the ones. Warren turned aside towards Goldman, We have some bullets that appear to be real but the projectiles are actually hard shell confectionary sugar. They won’t stand up to any moisture and are gelatin filled. The dissolve upon leaving the muzzle within about ten feet. Even being hit at five feet they won’t penetrate a normal business jacket. Leave a sticky spot though. They won’t hold up for long but pass a quick visual inspection.

What is he carrying? Pete asked.

Dunno. Warren answered. He watched as the door opened room 408 and an admin assistant stepped in and gave Mr. Devereaux some lunch. Might want to give him 20 minutes to down that before you go in.

Yes, sir. Anything else? Pete asked.

Try him out on a few different weapons, see if he has a general feel for stuff he hasn’t ever seen before.

Got it. Pete said and left.

What about the language thing? Chou asked again.

We’ll have to train him for a few months to be sure. However if St. John’s girlfriend is correct we might have that long. She wasn’t specific on a timeframe. Unless she goes to someone else to get the job accomplished. Johnson, how specific were your people with her? Goldman asked.

We told her that if her story checked out when she checked back in a month that we would proceed to work on it. No specific time frame was given. She seemed to think she would be in New York again in March. That is still six weeks out so we have that long plus whatever estimate we can give her. I would think that if she thinks we are working on it for real that she would be patient. It has, after all, been four years since her mother died. And if she is right and Jerome St. John did have something to do with it, which is highly likely, then she is likely to not have a problem with us taking a year to get into position. Agent Johnson said.

There was a knock at the door and then it opened. Warren glanced up and then sat watching the monitor. Have a seat Agent Banks. He then looked up at her and studied her face. She was a skinny black girl in her early thirties. Her face looked like she had more Anglo blood than African. Agent Banks, we have a candidate for a potential joint operation that we need to check out. He is a civilian. The man on the monitor. His name is Linc Devereaux. Do you know him?

No. She said with certainty.

Good. This is a strictly voluntary mission as it involves getting intimate with him.

She looked at the monitor a few seconds and then spoke, What else?

Warren answered, We are going to run a surprise field combat test on him. As with field tests there is always somewhat an element of danger. You would be on his side. He carries a gun already. Beside this surprise test we need to know if he has any apparent problems with black females.

Agent Banks had an odd expression on her face, So you want to know if the honky can get it up for a sister? The surprise was evident in her voice.

Yes. His suitability as a candidate for a classified mission would depend on his performance in bed. The parameters are rather exact and explicit. If you would prefer we can discuss them in private. As I said, however, it would be a voluntary assignment.

Combat pay?

Of course. Warren said.

What would be my assignment duration? She asked.

Probably two nights I would think. We would put you with him under the guise of watching him to make sure that he doesn’t try to divulge the fact that he was more or less Shanghai’d by the FBI and is pretty aware that it is a joint operation. You could say that your assignment was to not let him out of your sight, not even to go to the can by himself. Of course aside from being in the restroom when he takes care of business you would have to have him with you as well. Since he doesn’t know what we want him for he can’t spill the beans and neither would you be able to be compromised. Warren said.

What exact parameters am I really supposed to be testing for? she asked.

Well for starters as you said, you would have to see if he first didn’t have a problem with having sex with a black woman. In addition you would have to … Agent Johnson paused, Really Warren, do we need to get Agent Banks to..?

I’m afraid so. If what you supplied us about the principle is correct then we need to know if Mr. Devereaux has a problem with it. Warren said.

Johnson frowned and then leafed through a two inch thick folder of papers sitting before him. He stopped at a specific set of papers, some three pages stapled together and quickly went over each page. Here, there isn’t anything on here that is classified that I see. Double check this for me Warren.

Warren took it and read over it. Bottom right corner of page 2.

Agent Johnson carefully folded the corner of page two and then stapled it dog-eared with a stapler. Read this and see if you can at least do enough of it with him in two days to see if he is squeamish about it.

Agent Banks began reading the report and almost immediately put a hand over her mouth in surprise. The rest of the men in the room were silent. She finished and handed it back to Agent Johnson with raised eyebrows. She looked at the monitor. At that time Pete walked into room 408 and introduced himself and shook hands with Mr. Devereaux. The two then walked out. Agent Anita Banks then looked up at Warren. You’re right, this is a bit much. You expect him to do all that?

He’ll have to do it if he is to succeed with his mission. You wouldn’t have to do all of it, of course, but at least get him to participate in some of it to see how he reacts. A sampling should do. Agent Johnson said. He then took out a highlighter and highlighted a few words here and there and handed it back to her. At least that much will tell us what we need to know.

Well most of it I think I could do. However some of it will be painful. She said.

Triple combat pay and a month off paid leave. Johnson offered.

That’s pretty steep, you want to know bad don’t you?

It could be critical to the success of his mission. Goldman added. Agent Banks looked directly at him but didn’t ask questions. She could tell from his accent that he wasn’t from around here. And knowing that her bosses’ boss two times up the ladder was working with a CIA spook pretty much clenched that not only was this a joint CIA-FBI operation but most likely Mossad was involved too.

When do you need me to start? She asked.

About five if you can. We’ll stage the field test at your apartment. You’ll be escorting Mr. Devereaux to your place supposedly to pick up an overnight bag. You’ll be jumped somewhere there and he’ll have to shoot to defend you. Don’t be too quick to draw your weapon and if you do then shoot to miss. The perp will have a silenced weapon. After that go to his place and follow him around like a warm puppy until we call you on Wednesday. Warren said.

Then you’ll do it? Agent Johnson asked.

Yes, but you had better make real sure that I get my combat pay for this. And I’ll need off the rest of the afternoon to gather up a few things. Agent Banks said.

You got it. Expense whatever it is that you need. Just make sure to give your expense report to me and not Celia. Thank you. Warren said.

Agent Banks then got up and left. You think she will follow through with it? Agent Johnson said.

Yes she will. Warren said. He picked up the phone and called someone and made arrangements for another test for Mr. Devereaux.

--**--

Nice setup. Linc said.

Yes it is. Now if you don’t mind I would like you to shoot the target when it turns, cease-fire when it goes back. Ready? Pete asked.

Ready. Linc said and had his hands at his side as instructed. A Beretta 9mm sat on the table in front of him at the indoor firing range with a full clip. The target was set at 25 yards, the maximum in the range.

Linc saw the target begin to turn and picked up the pistol, flipped the safety off and squeezed off some eight rounds before the target began to turn back so far that he couldn’t reliably hit it. He flipped the safety on and set the gun down.

Pete brought the target up and marked the range on it with a pen and took it down to be replaced by a fresh one, running it back out to 15 yards. Next he set a Springfield .45auto down on the table and nodded. Linc ripped through the entire clip this time. Pete tested him on three more pistols and then brought the targets up to 10 yards and tried the .45auto and the Glock 9mm again. After collecting all the targets and putting the pistols in a case he took of his earmuffs. Good enough. They said you carry, what, if I may ask?

H&K USP .45 Linc answered.

Where? Pete asked, not seeing anything obvious.

Linc responded with a lightening draw from the concealed vest. Pete let out a low whistle. Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. May I?

Sure. Linc then dropped the clip, racked the slide and caught the bullet. He placed it back in the clip and reinserted the loose round. Sights suck though.

How so? Pete asked, unaware that anyone would have anything but praise for the finest German handgun made.

Front one keeps coming loose. I’ve restaked it twice and glued it once. Linc said.

If you don’t mind if I have a crack at it I’ll see what I can do. Pete said.

Sure. I had thought about putting Trijcon on there but haven’t had the time to get some yet. Linc said.

I might be able to scare some up. Take me until about 16:00 though. You got any clips, I don’t have any in inventory right now. Pete said.

Sure. Here is this one. Linc said handing Pete the original clip and then he reached in the other side of the vest and retrieved a spare, And the backup. Seems to cycle with just about anything you throw in it – I’ve only had about one jam in a thousand.

That’s good. Pete said smiling, secretly knowing that he was almost home free in his task at hand. He then opened up a footlocker and took out an AK47. Here. He said as he handed the gun to Linc.

Sweet. Linc said and looked at the gun. He looked at the barrel markings and then slid the bolt back to view the breach. Russian made too. Some guys get all the fun jobs.

Pete put a target up and ran it out to 15 yards. He then handed Linc a loaded clip. Give it a try. He watched carefully, not giving Linc any other instructions. Linc looked at the clip and inserted it into the magazine well and snapped it home. He then looked at the fire selector and selected the 2 round bursts. He racked the bolt back and let it slam home. He looked over at Pete and raised his eyebrows quickly in a Grouch Marx gesture. Pete quickly slipped his earmuffs on. Linc took aim at the target and cut loose with the first salvo. As expected the gun began to lift on him and the two holes walked up the page. He then took a better grip on it and let loose with three more two round bursts and managed to keep them under control. Linc flipped it to full auto and blew a nice hole in the center of the target before the bolt locked back. He dropped the magazine and handed it and the gun back to Pete.

Nice.

Is this the first time you’ve fired one of these? Pete asked.

Sure is. Does it show that bad?

Well no, actually. But most people don’t get to play with ‘toys’ as you said. He then rummaged in the footlocker and withdrew an MP5K. Check this out for cool.

Way cool. Linc said as he examined the gun. Pete handed him a clip. Linc tried it out on 3 round bursts for half the clip. Pete flipped the target on him and handed him a fresh clip. Linc changed it and then waited with the gun in a muzzle down position as the target flipped he fired in full auto mode and cut it in half horizontally.

Better huh? Pete asked to his new buddy.

Way better. Man, do you have the coolest toys. Linc said and looked at the ‘toy box’

See something you want to try? Pete asked.

Sure, but I don’t want to go dirtying up all your toys for you to clean.

Don’t worry about it, I clean ‘em all once a month shot or not. It’s a crying shame to clean an unshot gun, if you know what I mean. Pete said.

Boy, do I. Linc said and looked in the box. Is that an M60?

Sure, give it a try. Pete watched with note as Linc expertly withdrew the weapon, inspected it and the correctly selected the right magazine for it. He looked at the ammo and double-checked it before putting it into the magazine well. Better hang on.

No doubt. Linc said as he took aim. While Linc had been looking over the M60 Pete had changed the targets and put two out for Linc to shoot at. Linc took careful aim at the targets set at 20 yards and fired off ten shots in single shot mode with the heavy M60. Pete flipped that target and Linc flipped the gun to full auto mode and ripped up the other target, diagonally this time. The bottom half dropped to the floor and Linc let up on the trigger. Flipping the safety on he held the gun up and felt the barrel. Barely warm. This would be nice to take to the next gun shoot.

Impress your buddies I’ll bet. Pete said taking the gun from him. Pete then marked the targets, made sure all the guns were put up, locked the cabinets and led Linc back upstairs to room 408. After that he went down, retrieved the targets and brought them to room 414 where a discussion was underway to assess the operational parameters. They paused when Pete arrived. Warren dispatched a woman whom Pete had seen before and knew to be a psych technician.

Well? Warren asked.

Well I would say the targets speak for themselves. Pete said and laid them on the table. Everyone picked up one and then they started trading them in a clockwise fashion. The man knows how to hit what he is shooting at. And with anything you hand him. He seemed better with heavier weapons, especially on the pistols. The full autos didn’t give him any problem. I had the impression he had never handled such equipment before but he seems to have a natural ability with guns. Indeed when talking to him he knows quite a bit about gunsmithing. Seems he does a lot of his own pistol work. I managed to talk him out of his gun for the afternoon and I’ve got one of the boys replacing the sights on it now. I’ll load it with the gel caps before I give it back. He was carrying an H&K USP .45. Hell of a lot of firepower no matter what, in his hands it is absolutely deadly. Pete paused.

He had that concealed on him? Agent Johnson asked.

Sure did. Hidden in the trick vest he is wearing. Surprised the hell out of me. Pete said.

That’s an awfully large piece to be carrying concealed. Chou said.

Yes it is. He only has the civilian 10 round clips. Everything we talked about seemed to be on the up and up. He knows some pretty techy shit about guns but seems to stay legal from what I can tell. Pete said.

So how would you rate his firearms proficiency overall? Agent Eddington asked.

Expert. Pete answered without hesitation.

Thanks Pete. Give him the faked up stuff about 4:30 Warren said. Pete nodded and left. I told you he is what we are looking for.

In the gun use obviously. Agent Goldman said looking at the targets.

--**--

At 16:00 Dick Warren walked into the room where Linc sat waiting. Mr. Devereaux, we still cannot tell you exactly why you are here. However I can say that you have certain characteristics which make you important to a national security issue we are dealing with. We obviously have done a very through background check on you already but there are some other facts we need to check out. I can also tell you that there is a slight risk of someone trying to contact you in the very near future. Warren said as he sat across the table.

Someone like a foreign government I presume. Linc stated.

Probably. Warren said and thought as he said it.

Tell me, Mr. Warren, did you have someone tailing me yesterday? Linc asked.

I can’t answer that right now, I’ll have to check. Warren said, trying not to act surprised.

Linc saw through the faked calmness of the man however. Now Linc began to wonder what, exactly, their game was. "Well you might want to tell whomever it was that they were damned