Later that day, Britney pulled the Prius off SR 89 and onto another small road near Heenan Lake.
“Where are you going?” Albert asked.
“I need to stretch my legs,” she replied, then turned onto a dirt road that led down to the lake.
“I’ll take the next shift driving,” he said.
“Thanks,” Britney said, then pulled off the dirt road close to the shoreline of the lake.
Britney turned the car off, got out, stretched by the open door, then looked inside.
“Are you going to stretch?” she asked Albert.
“Yeah, in a minute,” Albert said while he opened his door, got outside, and started to stretch.
“I’m going to walk down to the lake,” she said, looking over at him for a reply that he would join her.
“I’ll be with you in a few minutes,” Albert said while he bent over and touched the toes of his shoes to stretch.
Britney headed over to the lake.
When she was ten feet from the car, Albert quickly sat in the passenger seat, opened the laptop bag, and then removed and opened the laptop.
“Ginger, come to me,” he whispered into the monitor, and impatiently waited.
After a few seconds, he wondered if she would come back to him.
The Heavenly Chat website appeared, and Albert was relieved. “I’m whispering, so Britney doesn’t hear me,” he whispered at the monitor.
“How do you like her?” Angel 12978 replied in a low tone.
Albert glanced out his car window at Britney, who walked along the shoreline of the lake.
“She is beautiful. I give you that,” he replied.
“I knew you would like her.”
“Ginger, you’re not supposed to be setting me up with another woman. You’re my soul mate. I’ll wait to be with you in the afterlife,” Albert replied, hurt, as he felt she was dumping him forever.
“We’ll see. Now, back to the problem at hand. I’m glad to see you escaped from Kirby and Grant,” Angel 12978 replied.
“Britney did it all. She was awesome,” he replied while he glanced at Britney.
“See, even you agree that she’s one special lady,” Angel 12978 said.
Albert continued to glance at Britney, who continued to stroll along the lake shoreline. “Enough of her. Now, I can’t open the file about the assassin or the location of the hit. Can you perform your divine magic and open it up for me? Pretty please,” he asked.
“Here’s a program to use. It’ll open files when it’s time,” Angel 12978 responded.
On the laptop monitor, a Password Detective program appeared, with a small window popping up that displayed numbers and letters in a quick succession, resembling a slot machine.
“Password Detective? When will it be time?” he asked.
“What did you say?” Britney asked while she walked back to the Prius.
The Heavenly Chat website quickly disappeared on the laptop monitor, but the Password Detective program remained.
Albert looked at the laptop, then over at Britney, and quickly thought of an excuse. “I found a program called Password Detective. Hopefully, it’ll open these files that will show the location and time of the hit,” he told Britney.
“That sounds good. I’m hungry,” Britney said while she sat in the driver’s seat.
Albert reached into the backseat, removed the bag of jerky, and handed it to her.
She opened it up and removed three pieces, then handed the bag back to Albert.
“Where did this program come from?” she asked curiously while she took a bite of jerky.
“I was snooping around and found it on the hard drive,” he replied while he removed three pieces of jerky.
“I sure hope it works,” she said while she reached around and grabbed a bottle of water.
Britney opened it and took a swig, then handed the bottle to Albert.
Britney glanced at the lake while Albert took a drink.
She reached back around to the bag seat and grabbed the loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and the box of plastic knives.
She proceeded to make each of them a peanut butter sandwich.
Ten minutes later, they sat in the car and glanced at the peaceful lake while they ate their sandwiches.
Meanwhile, at the UAS office in San Bernardino, Kirby and Grant impatiently paced around Kirby’s office with scotch on the rocks drinks in hand.
After ten minutes of pacing, Grant’s cell phone rang. He looked at the viewfinder and smiled, thinking it was good news. “What do you have?” he answered the call.
“Nothing on Taylor or my agent. The highway patrol stated they searched up and down Interstate Five and couldn’t find their Prius,” Frank replied from Grant’s cell phone.
“That’s not the news I wanted to hear,” Grant replied while he rubbed his wet, cool glass against his throbbing forehead.
“I’m sorry,” Frank replied.
“What about our Secret Service contacts? Are they ready to support?” Grant asked.
“Yes. My two agents just confirmed our two friends are ready to support and have verified that the room Viper needs has been secured,” Frank said.
“Good. Call me the second those two assholes are behind bars,” Grant ordered.
“I will,” Frank replied, then disconnected his end of the call.
“I take it that our high risks are still on the loose,” Kirby said while he walked over to his office bar and freshened up his drink.
“Yeah,” Grant replied, worried that Albert and Britney might screw up his plan.
Kirby’s cell phone buzzed while he walked away from his bar. He looked at the viewfinder and saw it was a text message.
“I’m in Vegas at my secure location and ready for my assignment,” the text message from Viper stated.
“Viper is in Vegas at a secure location,” Kirby told Grant while he shoved his cell phone into his pants pocket.
Grant made another call on his cell phone.
In the main room of a suite in the La Tremoille hotel in Paris, Chuck picked up his ringing cell phone from the coffee table. “What?” he answered.
“Our two high-risk items are still on the loose,” Grant told Chuck from the cell phone.
“Figures,” Chuck replied.
“But we have the media out there claiming that those two are wanted for the murder of one of the risks we eliminated in San Francisco,” Grant added.
“Well, it’s about time you used your fucking head,” Chuck said with a smile.
“We also confirmed that Viper is in Vegas at a secure location and ready to support,” Grant said.
“What about our other friends? Are they ready?” Chuck asked.
“Yes, sir. Everything is clicking in place,” Grant replied.
“Keep me posted,” Chuck said, then disconnected his end of the call and made another call.
Peter Sargent sat behind his huge mahogany desk in his skyscraper office building in Dallas. He reviewed some financial reports, but his mind was on something of higher importance.
His cell phone rang, and he looked at the viewfinder. “Yes,” he answered.
“Everything is clicking in place,” Chuck replied, then disconnected the call.
Peter turned around and glanced out his office windows.
While he stared at Dallas, a greedy smile grew on his face. Peter knew it was worth the fifty million dollars; he and his Arab cohorts mustered up to rid them of their threat against their livelihood. It cost that much money to pay off so many people involved in this plot.
Way down State Road 89, Albert drove while Britney rested in the passenger seat, going down the curvy road through Monitor Pass. It was a quiet drive while they enjoyed the beautiful mountainous countryside of California. He also munched on Lays potato chips from a bag between their seats.
A little while later, Albert turned onto State Road 395 and headed south toward Coleville.
Back at the UAS office in San Bernardino, Kirby and Grant were on their fifth glasses of scotch to soothe their nervousness about their upcoming plan.
Grant’s cell phone rang. He looked at the viewfinder, and a smile grew on his face. “It’s Frank,” he told Kirby.
“I hope it’s good news,” Kirby replied while he sipped on his scotch.
“Shoot,” Grant answered the call, then took a sip of scotch.
“So far, we haven’t had success with locating your two high-risk items on Interstate five. And nobody reported seeing their car either,” said Frank from Grant’s cell phone.
“That’s not the news I wanted to hear, Frank!” Grant snapped.
Kirby knew instantly by Grant’s response that Frank didn’t have any good news.
“We’ll keep on looking,” Frank replied, then disconnected his end of the call.
Grant shoved his cell phone into his pants pocket and then gulped down his scotch.
Kirby paced around this office while he thought about Albert and Britney’s location.
His eyes widened, having an idea that was a shot in the dark.
He ran over to his desk and opened up Google Maps on his computer. He zoomed in on Vegas and looked at all the roads leading into the city.
Grant got curious and walked over to Kirby. “What do you have?” he asked curiously.
“Well, we can assume that with high probability those two won’t drive into Vegas by way of any Interstate,” Kirby told him.
Grant thought about what he said for a few seconds. “You’re probably correct since it’s too highly traveled with cops,” said Grant.
“Exactly, so I’m thinking they took a roundabout way to Vegas and would be coming in from the west or northwest,” he said.
Grant looked at the Google map of Vegas. “So maybe they’re coming in via Ninety-Five, One Fifty-Nine, or One Sixty,” Grant added.
“Kirby looked at the Google map. “One Fifty-Nine just comes off One Sixty and loops back to the city, so let’s discount that road,” he said.
Kirby zoomed out and followed State Road 160 to the other roads that eventually led back to Interstate 5.
He traced State Road 95 back to the northwest to the other roads that eventually led back to Interstate 5 in Stockton. “Those roads would have less traffic as compared to the Interstate,” Kirby said while he looked at the Google map.
“Let’s get someone on those roads,” Grant ordered.
Kirby picked up his cell phone and punched in a phone number. “Gino, listen, I want a car with two observers camped on State Road One Sixty and the intersection of One Fifty Nine. Be on the lookout for Taylor’s blue Prius,” Kirby instructed him.
“Yes sir,” Gino replied from Kirby’s cell phone.
“Then I want another car with two observers camped out on State Road Ninety-Five about twenty miles out of town. Be on the lookout for Taylor’s blue Prius on that road. Eliminate and bury our risk when it’s safe. Do you understand?” Kirby said.
“Yes, sir,” Gino replied. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, I also want two more vehicles with two observers each. One to drive thirty miles up and down Ninety-Five and another vehicle to drive thirty miles up and down One Sixty,” Kirby added.
“In work,” Gino said, then disconnected his end of the call.
Fifteen minutes passed, and eight thugs in black Italian suits rushed out of a rear door of the MGM with gun bags in hand.
They rushed over to where four black Chevy Suburbans were parked by the rear of the building.
Two thugs went into each Suburban with their gun bags.
They drove away on their assigned missions.