Chapter 34

34

Shaw finally spotted Garner by the loading dock of the post office.

"Hi. Are you Chief Garner?" Shaw said loudly as he walked up to him, starting the snow job theatrics for the cops who were watching.

"Yes. And you are?" Garner said.

"Special Agent Thompson," Shaw said as he vise-gripped his doughy hand.

They both turned as Travers in a windbreaker came out of the post office and walked over.

"And this is Campus Security Director Travers," Garner said. "Travers, this is Special Agent Thompson."

"Very nice to meet you, Agent Thompson," Travers said stiffly.

Shaw had to force himself not to roll his eyes. Travers had the acting chops of a department store mannequin.

"So, what do we got, fellas?" Shaw said.

"Let me show you," Garner said. "We're setting up a command post in the post office here."

They went up onto the loading dock by a little set of steps and went in through a side door into a tiny hall that smelled like stamp glue. At the end of it, in a brightly lit windowless back room, a half a dozen or more busy beaver cops were clearing desks against the wall, snapping open card tables, putting out folding chairs.

Shaw smiled some more at the elaborate production.

This is what blockbuster directors must feel like when they come on set , he thought.

"Thanks," Shaw said as Garner handed him a water bottle from a case of them sitting on a steel desk.

"This is who we're looking for," the chief said, showing him a photo of the blonde on his phone.

"Yep, I know. I got it right here," Shaw said, patting his electronic tablet.

"And there's a black-haired woman as well."

"Uh-huh. The New York law firm woman. Doherty. Got her pic, too. No sign at your checkpoints yet, huh. Nothing?"

Garner shook his head.

"Not yet."

Shaw cracked the water bottle and took a sip. Then they all turned as Azar and Shahu and the rest of Shaw's boys arrived. With the heavy tool cart on a hand truck and a black-and-silver wheeled shipping case they almost looked like roadies setting up for a concert.

Yeah, baby , Shaw thought as he watched the gear land with a loud clunk into the corner.

The show was about to begin all right.

"What's all that for?" Travers said.

In the boxes were all the toys. AR15s, MP5s with a shit ton of ammo. Breaching charges, ballistic shields, grenade launchers with hundreds of cannisters of tear and incendiary gas. Flash bangs and even fragmentation grenades. They'd brought every bell and whistle.

"Some odds and ends," Shaw said. "Never know what the job might entail. Good carpenter always brings his whole toolbox along. Do you have a map of the town handy?"

"Someone hit the lights," Garner called out as he turned on the interactive Smart Board/whiteboard he had brought in.

"This here is the Beckford town square, your target area," Garner said, waving a laser pointer at a Google Maps satellite shot of the small town. "Basically a north and south oriented square with the river to the west. As you can see, it's not that complicated. North Street, Main Street, South Street run horizontal and Route 4 and Depot Street and River are your vertical.

"We," the chief continued as he wiggled the red dot of the laser pointer at a structure on the upper left northwestern block, "are here at the post office on North Street.

"And here beside us," he said as he pointed to two Google Map knife and fork markers in the northeastern block to their right, "are two of the village's public establishments that are still open. Cosmic Pizza and The Pinewood, a small and somewhat sketchy bar that is known to law enforcement.

"And here," he said as he pointed two blocks down at the bottom of the map to another restaurant marker, "between the river and Depot Street is the third and largest establishment in the town, a bar and restaurant called The Forge.

"Now, I already called in my contact at Eversource to shut down the juice," the chief said. "After they kill the lights, you go in for the scoop and we'll watch the perimeter at these checkpoints here, here and here in case our targets make a run for it. Sound good?"

They turned as Shahu lifted out the first submachine gun from the popped open shipping case. They watched as he slapped the bolt carrier forward with a loud clack.

"Sounds outstanding, Chief," Shaw said. "We'll be out of your hair in no time."