dynamite when he was ready to use it. Three sticks should do it, maybe four. It had to fit under the car without being seen. Sam gathered everything up and placed it in the shoe box he had brought it up in. The box went into the shopping bag. The shopping bag he placed under the bed, out of reach of the maid’s vacuum cleaner.
Sam then got out the directional radio and listened for the car. It pointed in the direction of the strip club. No movement yet.
Sam gave up and went to the bathroom. His stomach was giving him some warning signs. He had forced himself to eat earlier, and he was having to do that more and more often. While it didn’t surprise him, he still got mad when it happened. He had taken excellent care of himself his whole life. Yes, he had pushed his body hard in the past, but that was no reason for it to retaliate now. He would just take his pills and try to get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow would provide the opportunity he needed. He was tired.
• • •
Danny’s editor was not in a good mood. His best reporter was asking for something unusual, and on a Monday, too.
“Ed, it’s going to happen again, I’m telling you. This guy is just getting started. I need to be there when it does!” Danny was pleading his case while pacing in front of his editor’s desk. Ed had his seat tipped back, his feet up on his desk and watched Danny appear and disappear between the piles of paper and books.
“Lemme get this straight. You think the guy who shot Addicot is gonna go out and shoot some more people? Why?”
“He left a message, Ed. A letter to the FBI. Why would he do that if he just wanted to kill Addicot? Sure the guy had enemies, but why not just shoot him and be done with it? No, this guy has an agenda. He left the ‘Why’ with the feds, nailed it to a tree like a gift. Why leave it to a federal agency when the locals or state could just as easily get the message. It just doesn’t add up. I think it’s gonna happen again, it’s gonna happen soon, and it’s gonna happen somewhere outside Florida. I need to be there when it does!”
Ed sat up and looked at Danny. He reminded Ed of himself from the first day he had come onboard. Young, full of energy, still had some ideals and drive left.
“You really think this is serious?”
“The FBI does. Look who they sent down here. Their golden boy.”
Ed sat back and scratched his head with one of the hundreds of pencils he kept lying around. He hated pens, ruined too many shirts. Danny had some points. He also had a lot of unknowns. But he had been smart enough to hang around the scene, and come back with a story that had more than what the other guys had.
“All right. All right, I’ll sign off on one trip. Be humble, Danny, you’re a metro guy and the other egos will not like it. Go down to travel and get an open ticket. Pick out a photographer to go with you. I’ll explain it to the bean counters. Don’t screw me on this one.”
Danny reached across the desk and planted a kiss on Ed’s shiny head. “You’re my hero, Ed, that’s what I tell everyone!”
“Yeah?” Ed smiled. “Go away.”
Danny did just as he was told.
• • •
Sam was in his hotel room finishing off a room service breakfast. He had been listening for the past three hours as the gang members got themselves up and around. He had heard grumbling and verbal sparring over the shower. Room service had come and gone twice. Some loud snorting he took to be cocaine use. Nothing remarkable yet.
Profit’s voice finally joined the group and things quieted down. Breakfast was again ordered. The talk then turned to the day’s plans before the fight.
“We can hit the strip for some dice, boys, The Prophet can always use more profit.” It was a line he had used many times. His crew laughed obediently.
“However, it would trouble me to be seen exiting my coach in its current condition. Mooky, you did wash my ride since we
Sam then got out the directional radio and listened for the car. It pointed in the direction of the strip club. No movement yet.
Sam gave up and went to the bathroom. His stomach was giving him some warning signs. He had forced himself to eat earlier, and he was having to do that more and more often. While it didn’t surprise him, he still got mad when it happened. He had taken excellent care of himself his whole life. Yes, he had pushed his body hard in the past, but that was no reason for it to retaliate now. He would just take his pills and try to get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow would provide the opportunity he needed. He was tired.
• • •
Danny’s editor was not in a good mood. His best reporter was asking for something unusual, and on a Monday, too.
“Ed, it’s going to happen again, I’m telling you. This guy is just getting started. I need to be there when it does!” Danny was pleading his case while pacing in front of his editor’s desk. Ed had his seat tipped back, his feet up on his desk and watched Danny appear and disappear between the piles of paper and books.
“Lemme get this straight. You think the guy who shot Addicot is gonna go out and shoot some more people? Why?”
“He left a message, Ed. A letter to the FBI. Why would he do that if he just wanted to kill Addicot? Sure the guy had enemies, but why not just shoot him and be done with it? No, this guy has an agenda. He left the ‘Why’ with the feds, nailed it to a tree like a gift. Why leave it to a federal agency when the locals or state could just as easily get the message. It just doesn’t add up. I think it’s gonna happen again, it’s gonna happen soon, and it’s gonna happen somewhere outside Florida. I need to be there when it does!”
Ed sat up and looked at Danny. He reminded Ed of himself from the first day he had come onboard. Young, full of energy, still had some ideals and drive left.
“You really think this is serious?”
“The FBI does. Look who they sent down here. Their golden boy.”
Ed sat back and scratched his head with one of the hundreds of pencils he kept lying around. He hated pens, ruined too many shirts. Danny had some points. He also had a lot of unknowns. But he had been smart enough to hang around the scene, and come back with a story that had more than what the other guys had.
“All right. All right, I’ll sign off on one trip. Be humble, Danny, you’re a metro guy and the other egos will not like it. Go down to travel and get an open ticket. Pick out a photographer to go with you. I’ll explain it to the bean counters. Don’t screw me on this one.”
Danny reached across the desk and planted a kiss on Ed’s shiny head. “You’re my hero, Ed, that’s what I tell everyone!”
“Yeah?” Ed smiled. “Go away.”
Danny did just as he was told.
• • •
Sam was in his hotel room finishing off a room service breakfast. He had been listening for the past three hours as the gang members got themselves up and around. He had heard grumbling and verbal sparring over the shower. Room service had come and gone twice. Some loud snorting he took to be cocaine use. Nothing remarkable yet.
Profit’s voice finally joined the group and things quieted down. Breakfast was again ordered. The talk then turned to the day’s plans before the fight.
“We can hit the strip for some dice, boys, The Prophet can always use more profit.” It was a line he had used many times. His crew laughed obediently.
“However, it would trouble me to be seen exiting my coach in its current condition. Mooky, you did wash my ride since we
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