Free Prey by William W. Johnstone Page B

enforcement personnel. “Get undercover people into that area ASAP. The very best you have, no fuck-ups. This country cannot take another Waco, or Ruby Ridge, or, God help us all, another fiasco such as the one in Idaho last spring. I want no large display of force. You’ve got five days to set this up.” He looked at Cliff. “Unless you want to cancel, and I hope you do.”
    â€œNo,” the Speaker said. “No way. You know as well as I do that if we’re targets, they’ll get us, one way or the other. It goes with the job. But what do I tell my wife?”
    â€œThe truth, Cliff. And won’t that be refreshing?”
    Cliff smiled.
    Dick turned his attention to the federal enforcement agents. “I have alerted certain people at NSA and CIA. And I accept full responsibility for using the CIA domestically. But if some people have to be taken out, and you know what I mean, the Company does it better than anyone else. All right, get your people in there as fishermen, hikers, tourists, people looking for investment property, retirement homes. I want around-the-clock surveillance on Gene Dawson, Senators Stevens and Patrick, and especially on that venomous bitch Madalaine Bowman. Phones bugged; the whole nine yards. I’ve already spoken with a federal judge who is a close friend of mine. Everything is legal and above-board—more or less—but we’re ready to go. I don’t want young agents in on this. No cowboys or hot dogs. I want highly experienced men and women who won’t panic and jump the gun. Understood?”
    Perfectly.
    * * *
    â€œThat bitch reporter, Stormy Knight, is in the area,” Alex, the boss of this particularly odious bunch of shaved heads, told his equally shiny-domed gang. “Vic Radford just confirmed it. She’s gonna do a number on us.”
    â€œMaybe we better lay low,” a gang member suggested. “We don’t need no more heat on us.”
    â€œWe ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” Alex countered. “We got a right to our opinions same as anyone else. Fuck ’er.”
    â€œI’d like that,” another shaved head said with a dirty laugh.
    â€œYou wouldn’t when you come down with AIDS or some other fag disease,” Alex said. He frowned at all the members gathered around. “She’s like all reporters: in love with niggers and queers and Jews. Liberals think it’s fashionable to fuck niggers and kiss queers. If our race is gonna survive, we gotta be more careful than ever before. You boys and girls keep that in mind.”
    Alex gave his following a slow visual once-over. They were small in number, but they would grow with time. Alex knew that, for he had met with the leaders of other chapters around the country before deciding upon this location for a cell. And in only a few months five new members had been added. It did not take long to convince a certain type of person that Hitler was a great and wise man. You just had to know what to look for. Alex had been carefully coached in that and was not nearly as dumb as he appeared to be.
    Which certainly could not be said for most of his followers.
    * * *
    Stormy and Ki were prowling around the country, would be gone most of the day. Barry made certain Pete and Repeat had plenty of fresh water, secured his place, and took a drive out to Will’s store on the lake. Barry was more aware than any other living person that when it came to men of John Ravenna’s caliber, there was no point in pussy-footing around: they had to be met head-on. He was also well aware that moments after he stopped at the store and asked directions to Ravenna’s place, Will would be on the phone to Sheriff Salter. Couldn’t be helped. This was something that had to be done.
    Barry had a soft drink and chatted with the old man who had established the store and operated it for almost half a century.
    â€œI bet you’ve seen some changes in this