Shock Wave

He knew he’d never hear anything more about the tussle he had had with the Nazis. At least three of them would have had to go to the hospital with gunshot wounds, unless they had some low-life ex-doctor that took care of things like that. It seemed like there was every type of professional available on the black market to handle services that people outside the law might need. Wells decided no matter what, they wouldn’t want people to know one man had come into their clubhouse and taken a truck without getting a scratch.

He was headed to his secret box over by the power plant to hide a map, a.38 revolver and a thousand dollars in twenties he’d saved up in case he needed it to leave the area after his show. He didn’t think he was being optimistic. He felt that his simple but spectacular plan, executed only by him with no other help, would cause enough terror and confusion that he would walk away cleanly and be able to enjoy it for a long time. He had been fighting to keep his mind on the task, even though he had started to get a better idea involving Turkey Point nuclear power plant. Finish what those damn Arabs had started. Shit, it had taken those two idiots months to bring him into their plans and then to try to recruit three others even to attempt to pull it off, and they hadn’t come close. It was true that the reason they hadn’t come close was because of Wells himself, but that was their failure. Too many people involved. At the time, Wells hadn’t realized the wild disorder the plan might cause. It would also have cost a lot of lives. He hadn’t wanted that to happen two years ago. Now it was a tradeoff. A few lives for a lot of chaos. He obviously was past that concern.

Just after he passed the road where that Klan idiot, Ed Co

Tasker was about halfway done setting up his prank when he heard what sounded like a gunshot. He ducked behind the Honda, still holding the plastic sheet he’d found near the empty building, behind an old sign that read MANNY’S MARKET. As soon as he discovered that the loud boom was a backfire from an old blue Ford Ranger pickup coming down Krome Avenue, Tasker turned his attention back to the Honda to make sure the noise hadn’t awakened Jimmy. To Tasker’s surprise, Jimmy Lail’s head still lay motionless against the driver’s-side window. The car was idling to give the worn-out FBI agent air conditioning. Tasker could hear the soft thump of the bass from a CD or the radio. He continued to wrap the opaque plastic, probably used for farming, all around the small car. It was thicker than a garbage bag and about three feet wide. Tasker wrapped the whole car twice, blocking out all light. He had looped over the passenger door so he could slip inside when he was finished.

He’d paused just after the blue Ranger had driven past. He didn’t know why, but the lone vehicle gave him a fu

Tasker was going to enjoy this.

Daniel Wells was a couple blocks down the road before the eerie feeling that he had just avoided danger passed. He took Krome all the way into Homestead, then turned east toward the racetrack. He kept his speed down, remembering the officious Homestead cop who’d written him for speeding in the Toyota a few weeks earlier.

Arriving at the little dirt turnoff, he turned south, toward one of the canals that cooled the giant nuclear reactor over at the power plant. No one would notice the disturbed dirt and lime where the box was buried, but if you knew where it was, it was obvious. He pulled right next to it and took out a small army-surplus folding shovel from behind the seat of his Ranger pickup. A minute of scraping the dirt from the box gave him good access. He opened it and was relieved to see it was still watertight and in good order. He threw in the gun, cash and map and pulled out some of the TATP he had stashed. In a matter of three minutes, he was on the road again without anyone knowing where the box was hidden.

He headed back to his duplex to finish up his van.

Tasker smiled to himself as he knocked lightly on the dashboard. Jimmy Lail stirred but didn’t wake. What was it with this guy? Tasker pounded a little harder. No response. This was impressive dereliction of duty. Finally, Tasker smacked the dash and yelped, “Jimmy!”

Jimmy didn’t spring awake, at least not at first. He stirred, then opened his eyes, then hissed, “Shit!” and looked at his watch, hitting the illuminate button. He studied it, not even noticing Tasker until he looked up at the dark windows again and turned toward the FDLE agent laughing in the seat next to him.

“What the fuck!” It came out in a Texas twang. “You think that’s fu

Tasker could only nod as he laughed and gasped for air. Tears started to run down the corners of his eyes.

“Shithead, you coulda got shot.”

“When? After you had your coffee?”

“What is this shit, anyway?” He started to calm down and tried to roll down his window.

”Relax there, Mr. Surveillance. It’s just plastic.”

Jimmy pulled the handle, then shoved open his door, ripping the plastic. Tasker followed his lead. In thirty seconds, they had all the plastic off the Honda, then Tasker followed Jimmy to the shade of the old market’s overhang.

Jimmy sighed and said, “That was pretty fu

“I didn’t have time with your guys on my back. But I couldn’t pass this up.”

Jimmy nodded, taking a deep breath. “I musta just dozed off. You’re pretty stealthy.”

“You just dozed off like Adams was just president. You were out for a while.”

Jimmy just glared at him. “Long night. You seen my squeeze.”

Tasker nodded. He’d seen her up close. He looked down the road toward the house. “Anything happen? At least while you were awake?”

“Not much, but I bet we give this a few days and our man will show.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Du

Just when Tasker was getting used to his almost pleasant Texas drawl, Jimmy added, “I’ll leave it with you, aiiight? I got other peeps to check out.”

Tasker just nodded, then asked, “You ever check with Sal Bolini on any info on Wells?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Why?”

“He’s always yappin’ about his great sources. I thought he might come up with something. Probably just all talk.”

“No, man, he’s for real. He made a couple of solid terror cases. The man grabbed the two Jordanians who were going to blow up Turkey Point.”