The Players

These Players mentioned are based on the avatars of

real people who post on the MobileRead website.

Red - Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward - Your Truly, Based in Plano.

Originally from San Antonio, Texas. Various avatars.

VivaldiRules - Literati based in Houston, Texas. Avatar is

a small dog. The dog avatar (talking) used in various creative

story threads.

Nate the Great: Conservative based in Washington D.C.

Zelda Pinwheel - Her Majesty, Queen of Pinwheel. Based

in Paris, France. Various Avatars.

Mindy - Avatar is always some form of fairy. Motto is "Don't

frak with the fairy". Lady based in Scotland.

Patricia - The lady who knows everything and does these

wonderful e-books. Avatar is a renaissance lady with a book.

Based in South Wales, UK.

Post 1

The sun was goin' down on another great day. Bubba and I were trollin' back form a nice fishin' hotspot, cheerfully arguing about our catch.

"I've got more than you, Bubba!"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't count the alligator."

"He bit on the line, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but he's not a fish."

"Well, you're countin' a good-for-nothin' needlenose, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but an alligator gar is a fish, not a reptile."

"They're both named alligator, aren't they, and they both bit on the line, didn't they?"

"Gars aren't endangered species."

"Alligators aren't either, any more, they're down to threatened. And this lake's full of them."

And so on.

We were fishin' down in my neck of the woods, down at Choke Canyon Reservoir, known for it's fishin' and alligators. Back when they sank the ranch, all the old timers told the fish and game people that they needed to clear out the alligators, but those dumb bureaucrats laughed and said there weren't any in South Texas.

You'd think they'd consider the word of families who'd been there a hundred years, but noooo, they just built the lake anyway. So with all the extra water and coves and fish and such, the local alligators started breedin' like crazy. Now everywhere there are "Watch Out For Alligators" signs everywhere, and the Fish and Game people say "We didn't know there were alligators around there." Typical bureaucrats.

Anyways, the alligators add extra spice to fishin' down there, and give you somethin' to throw rocks at when the fishin' slow.

We were puttering up to the dock when I spotted a pair of Hoover dolls.

Suit and ties sorta stand out on a boat ramp.

"Bubba, we've got a problem. Look at the Hoover dolls on the boat ramp. You want me to beach the boat nearby so's you can sneak around to the car? I don't want you to get dragged into somethin' inhospitable."

"Naw, Red. I'm too lazy to slide through the brush around here. Besides, it'd scratch up my jacket. Let's go see what they want."

"I wonder how they found us? You told Patricia that you were going fishin with me and that you could only be reached through Mindy. I left Mindy only my cellphone number to be reached at, and I told here if I didn't like who she forwarded, she wouldn't get her next trip to Hawaii. She didn't know where we were goin'."

"Well, Red, I figure we're going to find out in about five minutes."

"Next time we go fishin', I'm gonna wear a Tricky Dick mask, so that they won't recognise me."

Bubba laughed. "Won't do any good. They'll just set up a Pearl keg and a "Free Beer" sign, and they'll catch you, quick as quick."

"Sneaky devils. It'd work, too."

So we tied off the boat next to the ramp and climbed out. The Hoover suits were wandering our way.

"Mr. Edwards?"

"Naw, I'm the Pearl beer salesman."

He looked at his photo of me and back again. "You're not being very co-operative, Mr. Edwards."

"I only co-operate with highly ranked dead members of government. Like Grant and Franklin and McKinley. I work real well with McKinley. I'll even bow and scrape to Salmon P. Chase. Right now I've got fish to deal with."

"I'm certain that what I have to say is more important than your fish."

"I'm not."

"Please, Mr. Edwards. The FBI has gone to great effort to track you down. You've been very difficult to find."

"Obviously not difficult enough. I went to great effort to avoid bein' interrupted fishin'." I looked at Bubba, "Bubba, next time we go surf fishing on some tropical island. That way the FBI'll have to sent out pretty girls in bikinis to fetch us."

The Hoover doll colored up real nice at that one. "Mr. Edwards, if you please, we have a crisis and we need your assistance."

"I don't have anything to do with twistin' Senator's arms. And if the Prez is trying to order my services, he knows how much I cost - and when to start payin' me. If I decide the do the job. Which I probably won't. You boys have enough back-stabbers and arm-twisters without me."

"Please let me tell you why we're here."

"Might as well, Red, he isn't going to let you alone until he does." Bubba said.

I sighed. "OK, what's the skinny."

"Mr. Edwards, we have a major barricaded-with-hostages situation."

"So what does that have to do with me? I'm just a greedy PI with bad taste."

"They have raided a secret meeting of various ambassadors to the US. They have 12 ambassador as hostage, as well as a special delegate from the Pope."

"I guess they have somebody to give themselves last rights. Sounds like a Foggy Bottom problem to me."

"They also have the Viceroy to Pinwheel."

"The last time I met up with the Viceroy from Pinwheel, he pee'd on my shoe. Next arm-twisting."

That stumped him for a moment. He must have not known Viceroy was a talking dog. "They won't talk to any representative of the US Government, but your name seemed to pass muster. They're willing to use you as a negotiator. "

"Who are these misguided blokes?"

"They call themselves The Drowning Baptists."

"Well, no wonder they won't talk with the US government, after that hoo-rah at Wacko."

"The assault was under legal orders." The Hoover doll said defensively.

"That's what the German boys said in '46. Didn't do them any good. Anything else I need to know before I say No."

"They have heavily mined the building where they are holed up."

"Where's that?"

"The Pearl Brewery, in San Antonio."

Post 2

The Pearl Brewery.....That put a different light on the matter. What good's a fortune if you can't buy your favorite beer.

Bubba interrupted my cogitating. "Looks like you've got a job, Red."

I agreed. "Sure does. And I was lookin' forward to having Cajun Alligator for tonight's cook-out."

I turned to the Hoover doll. "Tell your boys not to over-react and do anything rash. That's my job."

"And you do it so well", Bubba interjected.

"Quiet, Bubba, before I introduce you to some people you don't want to know." I turned to the Hoover doll. "How did you find us, anyway?"

"We were informed that you were out fishing, so we sent agents to every major lake in Texas to look for you. You happened to be at the lake we were assigned to."

"Ok, call your boss and have him tell The Prez the meter's runnin'. Same rates as usual. And tell him this isn't gonna be another Alamo, or I'll never bail him out again."

The other Hoover doll turn around and started muttering on his phone. I turned to Bubba.

"Y'all want to watch the show, Bubba, or do you want to head back home?"

"Aw, Red, I don't want to horn in on your fun. You can tell me about it later."

"Yeah, I'll have to file a report to Pinwheel when this is all over. I'll pop you a copy. It seems I get snakebit every time we try to go fishin'."

"Hey, we got a full day in this time. Are you going to eat your fish?"

"No, won't have time. You keep the stringer."

The Hoover doll looked blank-faced at the by-play. "Don't you mean filing a report with The President?"

"No, I meant Pinwheel. Queen Zelda is a lot prettier than The Prez. And she pays better, too. I guess I can pop a copy to your boss, but he's third on the list. And he'd better not niggle me about it, either. Now, did your boss give me a pack on these Drowning Baptists, or do I have to wait 'til we get back to San Antonio to see the paperwork?"

"There's a sealed pack sent with every group of agents sent out to find you, to be given to you when you were found. It's in the car."

I started walking over to the car. I turned my head and yelled, "I'm on my way to save Pearl for the world."

He yelled back, "You sure it's not, save the world from Pearl?"

I had to sign for the pack before I could open it. Stupid bureaucracy. I started reading as we cruised back to San Antonio.

* * * * *

The Drowning Baptists were thrown out of the Baptist church for being too extremist. They believed that the water of baptism purified the body and the soul together, but it took time to wash out the sin. So the more sin you had in your life, the longer you had to be held down to purify your soul. This led to several cases of people being held down so long that their soul escaped their body on the way to purification. The secular authorities tended to take a dim attitude about this, even though their lawyers plead for freedom of religion.

So a number of their ministers were doing time for manslaughter, and the sect got the nickname of The Drowning Baptists.

Some of the more pious members apparently decided that their problem was due to inadequate proselyting. So they seemed to decide that they needed to advertise more widely. Forceably converting a bunch of diplomats seemed to them to be just the ticket.

* * * * *

I finished the pack, and looked out the window. Poor VR. A bunch of bath happy zealots on one side, and millions of gallons of Pearl beer on the other. I had to do something to save that poor doggie. He'd had a hard enough life as it was, without some yahoo trying to wash his sins out as well. There was no way he could hold his breath that long...

"Well", I told one of the Hoover dolls, "we're going to need a bunch of bacon on call when I get this case finished. Y'all better call ahead.

"How have you been communicating so far?"

"The leaders in the Pearl Brewery have been pitching rocks wrapped with messages around them with some sort of whirly catapult."

"That's a trebuchet. Popular as artillery in the Middle Ages. People use 'em for pumpkin pitchin' contest nowadays. How have you been responding?"

"We've gotten a local mega-church pastor to pitch responses wrapped around small rocks back. He was willing as long as the pitching was filmed and released to the news media."

"Looks like somebody getting some good publicity out of this."

"The FBI certainly isn't. What are your plans."

" Well, as soon as we get to San Antonio, I'm goin' to shower and change clothes, and then go out and pitch a rock at the brewery, telling 'em I'll start the negotiations are 8 AM tomorrow. Then I'm goin' to get some sleep. Don't do anything to annoy 'em just to stick your hand in. I don't want to deal with any mass conversions."

We got to San Antonio and I completed my checklist. Tomorrow was gonna be a long day.

Post 3

The next morning, I looked at the message that had been sent back to me. Let's see... World coming to an end? Check. All the sinners going to Hell Check. The Government was Satan's handmaiden? Check. Exhortation to believe and follow their path to righteousness? Check, check, check and an exclamation point. No list of concrete demands. Looked typical so far. I guess I needed to get some negotiations going.

So I wrote up the following message and sent it.

"I understand that y'all consider yourselves fully qualified for this style of communication, but for those of us who don't consider ourselves qualified to throw stones, could y'all consider a less righteous way of communicating? Phone, blindfolded messenger, megaphone, flashing mirrors, you know, something that sinners can feel comfortable with.

By the way, can I provide something to eat while we're talking? I'm thinking that your hostages would like to eat something besides their own words.

Red."

The first rule with dealin' with a hostage situation is to lull the holders into relaxin'. Sorta like sayin' "nice doggie" to a Doberman while you reachin' behind youself for a big stick. You know what you're doin' and so does the Doberman, but with just the right tone you can still get away with it.

So I waited for the replay.

The Hoover doll wasn't impressed.

"You certainly seem to be takin' your time."

"You bet I am. I'm tryin' to ease trigger fingers and get the hostages fed. One thing at a time. Once we get some food in, then we can talk about weightier things. Like demands. You know the old saw, 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach'."

"And up."

"Yes, but that's much further down the road. You gotta get a gal's phone number before you can call her for a date."

I didn't remind him I was gettin' paid by the hour.

A thump outside announced the arrival of a reply. I went out and unwrapped it.

"How do we know you won't poison us? Or use it as a hijack diversion?

Micah"

At the rate things were goin', I was goin' to need the Rangers bullpen to keep pitchin' all these messages I wrote a response.

"You can break off a little of each dish and feed it to the doggie you've got hostage there. If he doesn't keel over, you know it'll be Ok. I was going to ask the preacher you were communicating with to bring in the stuff. A man of the cloth is not going to be at the front of an assault, no matter how good the ratings are going to be.

I hate to sound niggly, but y'all've got a trebuchet and all I've got is an arm. And if I were good enough to pitch rocks all day, I'd be pitching for the Rangers. So how about something besides rocks for communication.

Red."

I pitched it and waited for another response. Pitchin' rocks was a real slow way to negotiate.

About another hour later, another thump announced the reply. After unwrapping it, I read that they were willing.

They asked for Bar-be-que, with a bunch of sides. I called Bill Miller's and called in a honkin' big order.

I waved over the Hoover doll.

"Go get some bacon."

"Why bacon? It doesn't go with Bar-be-que."

"The bacon's for the doggie Viceroy. He'll see the bacon and know that somebody's negotiating on our side who knows who he is. He's a real smart doggie."

The Hoover doll just looked puzzled.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Even without my amigo. Now let me go, 'cause I've got to arm-wrestle a tele-evangelist."

It took a while to get the tele-evangelist to volunteer.

He liked the publicity and the leading misguided worshipper to the light, but he thought it was too risky. Still, he got over it after I pointed out that it would be a whole lot less risky that my telling the red-head about the blond. Or the wife about both of them. He agreed that risks in the name of the Lord were the ones that a man of God should take. So we loaded up a cheap plastic cart with all the food and sent him out, pushing it to the brewery....

Post 4

A couple of hours later we got another thump. It consisted of another note, thanking me for the food and telling me that I would get a few hour off from the flames for my kindness. it also included a phone number.

Hallelujah!

I gave it a dial. A loud voice answered at the other end.

"Temple of God Annex. May the Lord come into your life."

"This is Red. Can I talk with Micah?"

"He's busy at the moment, trying to lead a poor, misguided believer to the Light."

Well, in war there are casualties. I figgered the tele-evangelist deserved what he was receiving. At least I didn't have to listen. Yet.

"Well, when the Lord grants him a moment of respite, could you have him call me back at my number?"

"Let me get a piece of paper."

I waited. The voice at the other end came back and I left my number.

"And, by the way, could you take a message? Do any of your unenlightened guests need any medicines? I wouldn't want any of them to go to Judgement before you've had a chance to Save them."

The person at the other end thought that was being quite neighborly and would pass it on as soon as Micah came up for air.

I hung up and went to see the Hoover doll.

"Do we have a list of medical conditions and maintence medications needed by the hostages? I'd like to get all the needed medications on hand before they call back."

The Hoover doll scurried off. Nothing to do now but wait.

An hour later my phone rang.

"Red speakin'. "

"This is Micah. Thanks for the Bar-be-que. The dog seemed to be very pleased with the bacon. I don't know why."

"Just trying to do my Christian duty. Speakin' of duties. Did you get my message about medicines?"

"Yes. I'll send the list back by trebuchet so you'll have a hard copy."

"Can you send the tele-evangelist back with the cart? That way we can use him as a go-between for more food and meds. You'll get some more innings with him later."

"Certainly. He is misguided, but I expect to lead him to the light eventually."

I personally figgered the only light he wanted to led to was the one behind a mistress while she was wearin' some translucent nighty, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Fine, I expect he'll look forward to that. Now, if you don't mind, Micah, I'd like to slip in a little business. Do you mind tellin' me why did you decide to Witness to a bunch of heathen diplomats."

"Red, in a world filled with war, hate, and evil, we need ministers to go forth among nations to speak the Truth to the misguided and heathen.

The decision was made among us that it would be better to show the Light to professional ministers, who were knowledgeable in the ways of persuasion, that to try to train the Enlighted in the ways of the unwashed world."

Yep, if it worked, you'd get a lower defection rate. Lower than 99%, anyway.

"Sounds like a hard but viable plan."

"The progress has been very slow. None of the diplomats seem inclined to walk the path to Righteousness, no matter how we try to engage them. Even the dog seems to delight in being obstinate."

"How does a dog manage to do that?"

"You think he'd could understand the spoken language. Impossible, of course, for a dog. He has done unspeakable acts to my shoes, while I've been engaged in Witnessing the Gospel to the massed ministers. Why an unhousebroken dog was in a meeting of ambassadors, I will never understand."

"Maybe they wanted to have something to sneer at. You know how arrogant the ambassadors are. I'll bet some of them have told you that you could find the floor with your hat."

"They were far less polite than that, Red. Still, such abuses are part of the Calling, one learns to ignore the insult of the unwashed as they are led to the Light."

"Well, let's leave it at that. Oh, before I hang up, what and when would you like some more food? That way I can have it ready when you need it."

"I think fish would be nice. Around 6 PM should be fine."

"That sounds appropriate for a fisher of souls, such as yourself. I'll get a bunch from Sea Island. If you send to tele-evangelist back now, and pitch the medicine list as well, we'll be good to go. I'll give you a ring when dinner is ready to be shipped across."

"You're been a good go-between, so far, for a heathen. We'll wait for you call around 6."

"Fine, talk to you then."

A couple of minutes later I heard a thump in the yard, and saw the tele-evangelist wheeling the now-empty cart back.

I turned to the Hoover doll. "Looks like it's going better than I thought."

"It doesn't look like it's going at all." he muttered.

"Nonsense, there's been no talk of hostage executions, or other nasty treatments. We've got a real thoughtful bunch of kidnappers here. I hope they just stay stupid. And I hope VR will stop peeing on their shoes. That's liable to get him shot. Or a long, looong bath...."

Post 5

I kept an eye on the tele-evangelist as he pushed the buggy back. My grandpappy taught me that the difference between looking and seeing was paying attention to the whole environment, not just the item of interest.

I didn't notice any thing funny from the Pearl building, but...

"Hey, FBI guy, just how are your agents dressed? I know better than to ask you where they are."

He gave me a funny look. "They are all either in standard suits or in black flak jackets with FBI across the front and back. Why?"

"Quietly go to another window, and look with a pair of binoculars at the 14th bridge pillar down from the north on the I-37 bridge. Just to the north of the pillar. Look real carefully and come back and tell me what you see. "

He scuttled off. The tele-evangelist came in and motioned to me.

"When can I get some time off? I have my flock to look after."

"Well, we need to feed the denizens at six. Can you make it back by 5:45? I hope to get them tamed enough to allow somebody else to feed them in a couple of days. Then you can rest on your laurels."

He grumbled that that wasn't much time off, but he made a beeline to the parking lot.

The Hoover doll came back lookin' real nervous. "I'm not sure, but it looks like, um well..."

"Come on, spit it out."

"It looks like a sniper nest. A really well set up sniper nest."

"Yep, that's what I saw as well. May I gather that it's not one of your guys?"

"It's not one of ours. I don't have a clue who he is or why he's there."

"Somebody's kibitzing. I'd better find out who. Let me call Micah first and clue him in."

"Why would you do that? You'll just spook them."

"Who's making the mistakes around here, me or you?"

"You are. I know my orders."

"You build trust by helping. So, I'm gonna build some trust with Micah. Meanwhile, do you have a wire setup around here I can strap on?"

"Yes, but why do you want a wire rig?"

"Because I want you in full listening mode while I'm talking to the sniper. I'm going unarmed, because snipers have reflexes and they get real jumpy when somebody sneaks up on them and says "Boo". Last thing you want is a gun to trigger their shootin' reflex.

"While you're at it, can you quietly get a couple of SWAT sharpshooters zeroed in on that sniper? I might need some instant support. And the wire will keep you and them in the loop without it being obvious."

The Hoover doll looked at me with a little more respect. "It'll take about 15 minutes to set up."

"Fine. I'm gonna drive around his back and walk up from behind. That's take 15-20 minutes and I've gotta give Micah a ring first."

He got on his cell phone and so did I.

"Temple Of God Annex. May you see the Light."

"Hello, this is Red. Can I speak with Micah?"

"He's currently at his devotions. Could you call back later?"

"I'm afraid it's rather urgent. I wouldn't interrupt the most important thing in his life without cause."

"I'll check and see."

A few minutes later, I got a response.

"Alright, Red, what's so important that it can't wait?"

"I don't mean to scare you, but please avoid lookin' out any windows and have you followers do the same."

There was a burst of some choice language.

"Now, now. And you a man of the cloth. I'm tryin' to help, not cause further problems."

"Alright, what's going on?"

"I've spotted a sniper nest zeroed in on the building, and the FBI assures me it's not one of theirs. Somebody's kibitzing. I don't want any incidents on either side. I'm gonna go over and talk to the sniper to see who he's workin' for. I plan to walk up from behind, so's he doesn't get itchy. It'll take me about 15 minutes to get there. I'll call and let you know when I find out something."

"Go with the Spirit."

"Y tu tambien."

I hung up. The Hoover doll had finished his instructions and was looking at me.

"We'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Time I got goin'. "

I wandered out to the parkin' lot and got into the car...

Post 6

Scaring snipers is a lot like killing tanks. A lot of fun once you learn how, but not habit forming if you make mistakes. You see, your typical sniper is focused on getting silently into position and being ready for that "perfect shot" target showing up. They are focused, but not usually on their backside.

Some people go for style points. A simple "Boo" is effective, but a classy favorite is "How many rounds do you have, soldier?". The really tacky people like to scream "Ten Hut" right behind them. The really mean ones prefer carrying a sawed-off pump .12 gauge and get just behind the sniper and then jack a round through the chamber. That's a guaranteed pants changer.

Of course, if it's a two man team with a spotter, you're better off dealin' a long distance with a bull horn and a couple of flanking snipers of you own.

I hadn't spotted a spotter, though that didn't mean there wasn't one. I figgered he was a ways off, communicating by some form of telecom, and probably off duty anyways. I was bettin' that they wouldn't shoot me without asking some questions first. And if they didn't want to give away their position, they wouldn't move. And since they were kibitzing in the first place, they weren't going to give their position away, not with all those FBI agents around there with guns and annoyed egos.

Bein' the polite gentleman that I am, I carefully sneaked in until I got to about 5 meters from the sniper.

"Sergeant, I need to talk with your C.O." You had to make sergeant before you could apply to sniper school.

There was a twitch in the grass and then nothing. An old pro. I returned the favor.

"Sergeant, I have two snipers zeroed on you. You're out of your jurisdiction, and no court will hold them responsible if you make a move at me. Now I know you're only followin' orders, and I respect that. I'm the FBI negotiator for this deal, and I'd like to talk up your chain of command. You're the only contact I have so far."

Still no reaction.

Sigh. "Ok, sergeant. Bravo, Delta, illuminate the target."

Two red laser spots hit the grass area about where his chest should be. Like me, he could see the color bounce off the grass where they hit it.

That seem to convince him.

"Alright mister, you've made your point."

"Bravo, Delta, drop the spots." The targeting lasers disappeared. " Now sergeant, I'm assuming you have a contact with your spotter and your C.O. Can you tell them I'm not shootin' and I just want to settle the jurisdiction issue, peacefully, if at all possible. And tell me where they are?"

"Give me a minute."

A couple of minutes of soft muttering started.

"The C.O. for this operation is over on Josephine Street." He gave me the address.

"Thanks, sergeant. I don't want or need to know where your spotter is." Professional courtesy.

"By the way, who are you?"

"The handle's Red. Red Edwards."

"How did you spot me?"

"You're in the line of sight between the messenger when he goes by and the horizon. You did a great job of camouflage, but those .50 Cals are bears to hide. Barrett's, isn't it?"

"You know your guns, Red."

"Yep, I got one back home. Last used by a pretty girl workin' for me over in Australia. Are you single?"

"Happily married."

"I figgered you two might want to talk shop, but I don't want to put temptation in front of a fella. Y'all have a nice day."

I headed back to the car.

Post 7

He didn't tell me the C.O.'s name, so when I went into the house, I was in for a bit of suprise. I knew the guy in charge there.

"Howdy, Jake. How was Pinwheel?"

"It was that discord at customs with your assistant that brought me back. I've been trying to repair my career ever since then."

"You shoulda given me a ring. I would have talked to the Brass."

"I've already had too much of your help."

I shrugged. There's just no pleasin' some people. "At least you could introduce me to the Major."

He turned a bit red, but spat out, "This is Major Ruiz. He's in charge of the tactical situation."

I stuck out my hand. "Good to meet you, Major. I'm Red Edwards. You can call me Red. A Marine is always welcome at my house."

"Red, how did you spot my man?"

"Now don't hold it against him. The FBI hadn't spotted him. That's a real hard place to do full camo at. He did a great job, but those Barret .50's are real hard to hide. I've got one myself. I expect if I'd kept on lookin' I'd have found your other nests."

"What other nests?"

"Don't play me for a chump, Major. If you've got one side of a building covered, you've got all the sides of the building covered. And you've got an assault team around here, too, or at least on the way."

The major forced a grin. "You're obviously an experienced campaigner."

"The sniper I met had excellent discipline. Didn't even twitch when he realized he was spotted." I always like to look out for the real workers.

Jake decided to stick his oar in. "Now that you've finished complementing the military, how about you leaving and telling the FBI it's no longer their jurisdiction. It's a State department matter now."

I don't mind people sticking in their oars, but they d----d well better know how to paddle. I reckoned it was time to give ol' Jake a few lessons.

"Jake, stop bein' a Foggy Bottom Idiot for once. If the FBI was being taken off, somebody with real authority would be taking them off. And they wouldn't be usin' me as a mouthpiece. Even a dumb redneck like me knows that one." I ignored the suppressed snicker from the major.

Jake wasn't payin' attention to anything but me. "Out!" He shouted, "You're not on this case any more!"

"Jake, I can't leave the case without being shown overriding authority. Everybody knows that. Show me your authority."

"Here's my authority!" and waived a State Department paper at me.

"Easy, Jake, let me read it."

I looked it over. Full authority to handle the hostage situation had been given him by the Secretary Of State. The old battle-axe was trying to sneak one by The Prez. I shook my head. Politicians and promises.

"Why haven't you already knocked on the FBI's door?"

" I'll do it when I ready to."

"You mean you'll do it after you get the assault team deployed. Which it obviously isn't." I suspected that certain military commanders weren't pleased by their orders and were draggin their heels.

I turned to the Major. "Don't worry, Major. I'll have this sorted out in 30 minutes or so. The record of the Marines won't be smirched."

"Now Jake," I said, turning back. "That's a real pretty piece of paper, but doesn't have enough stroke behind it."

"You think you've got more authority than The Secretary Of State?"

"Nope, I know I've got more authority than the Secretary Of State. Now do you want to tell Kaitempi Kate that she's been outranked, or shall I?"

Jake sneered, "Prove it, bigshot."

I sighed. Some people can't add two plus two. He was being set up as the fall guy for one of Kaitempi Kate's power grabs.

"Ok, Jake, we're gonna play a game of Diplomat Double Jeopardy. The category that has been chosen for you is Political Power. You've just wagered your career and pension on the following question. And the answer is - What official in the US Government has the right to throw a Secretary Of State out on her keister. Please remember to answer in the form of a question."

I started humming the Jeopardy theme song. "Da de dum dum da de dum, da de dum de daaa de dum dum dum dum dum....."

Jake stopped being angry and started being bit pale.

"...de dum dum. Time's up, Jake. What's the question."

Jake said in a small voice, "The President."

"It needs to be in the form of a question."

"Who is The President."

"Right. And you win your pension. I have direct authority from The Prez. And this entire conversation is on a wire straight to the FBI team over there, so it won't do you any good to have me shot. Now do you want to call her or shall I?"

"You'd better call her. I think all I'd get done is get fired."

"Wise choice." Why did I get all the dirty jobs. I heard Bubba laughing in the back of my head. "'Cause you do them so well...."

Post 8

<Taken from the security hidden wire recordings of the conversation between Red Edwards and the Secretary of State. Not admissible in a court of law. As this was not a wiretap, only Red's side of the conversation was recorded, along with other comments in the room.

Gaps denoting the response from the other end of the line are denoted by matching double arrows.>

<Red> I call this number, and I get Kaitempi Kate?

<Jake> Well, this is the number I call when I need to speak with her. You should get a communication officer who will patch you through to her. And her name is not Kaitempi Kate.

<Red> You're right, I shouldn't insult the Kaitempi.

<Jake> Are you usually this respectful.

<Red> Naw, I prefer to call her somethin' else, but I got enough anti-defamation organizations on my back as it is. Did you know there's a slime mold defense league?

Strangled sound in the background, turning into guffaws. Source not identified...

<Jake> Just get on with it, before I find a window to jump out of.

Sound of telephone number being punched.

<>

<Red> I need to speak with the Secretary of State.

<>

<Red> No this isn't Jake ------. This is Red Edwards.

<>

<Red> This is an authorized call. I have been authorized by Jake ----- to provide certain pertinent information concerning the hostage situation in San Antonio. I need to provide it to the Secretary of State personally.

<>

<Red> No, he's out reviewing the situation right now. This is of critical security importance. Can you scramble the line when I get through?

<>

<Red> Good. I'll ask at this end.

<Red> Major, how do I scramble the line?

<Major Ruiz> You push that button there.

<Red> Thanks, Major. <To the line> Ready at this end.

<>

<Red> On at this end.

<>

<Red> Receiving 5 by 5.

Short gap of no particular information.

<>

<Red> Howdy, Ms. ------. I need to discuss this deal down here in San Antonio.

<>

<Red> No, this isn't Jake -----. This is Red Edwards.

<>

<Red> He had his reasons for delegating, ma'am.

<>

<Red> That's awful drastic, ma'am. Couldn't we settle for keelhauling?

<>

<Red> I agree this is serious business and your time is important. Can I pass on my information necessary for your decision making process?

<>

<Red> I'm the negotiator down here for the situation, workin' through the FBI. I -

<>

<Red> I respectfully disagre-

<>

<Red> I know who you are, ma'am. Do you know who I am?

<>

<Red> Can't we leave dead rats out of this.

<>

<Red> SHUT UP, BIGMOUTH! ... I'm here to save your backside, not fry it. And I'm not Bill, I don't have to put up with your <expletive deleted>.

<>

<Red> I dare real easily. I'm reportin' straight The Prez on this one. He isn't gonna take too kindly to your kibitzing when I tell him.

<>

<Red> This ain't Mena. The Chicago mob will step on your boys like Cartiff on a toad. They threw you a bone to shut you up as long as you behaved. You know that and I do. They don't take kindly to freelancing in Chi-Town.

<>

<Red> Yes, this is a secure line. I saw to that right off.

<>

<Red> Obviously you're not a lady. I'm only doing this a favor for Bubba.

<>

<Red> Yep, that Bubba. The one who introduced you to the commodity broker, and Lord knows who else.

<>

<Red> We're old buddies. We were out fishin' when the Prez's call came though. He might take offense if I showed up missin'.

<>

<Red> That wasn't a threat, just an observation, ma'am.

<>

<Red> Look, ma'am, you've got a busted flush. Can't we just put this to sleep without anybody getting hurt. It's easier on everybody.

<>

<Red> I know you don't like them, but another Wacko, and you can kiss 2016 bye-bye. You know how the Republican would play it. Vote for ----- and die. It'll make Willie Horton looks like Mother Theresa. And you know they'll do it.

<>

<Red> I'm happy with not callin' the Prez about this as long as you pull your hands out of this deal. And that includes any other A-teams you've got assigned on this project.

<>

<Red> I'll need to see the faxed stand-down orders.

<>

<Red> In a word, no.

<>

<Red> I'm don't think highly of any ambitious politician, anywhere.

<>

<Red> 5 minutes, fine. And ma'am, try and have a nice day, anyways.

<>

<Red> Look at the bright side, ma'am. I leave here and my prize is back to negotiation with religious zealots. And it's my backside if it doesn't work. The buck stomps here.

<>

<Red> Goodbye, Madame Secretary.

Phone hung up.

<Red> I hope I don't have to do that one again soon. Anybody got a Pearl? I need one after that.

<Apparently looks at watch>

<Red> OMG, it's 6 PM. I gotta get back and feed the clowns and hostages. Jake, here's the FBI phone number. Call 'em when you get the stand-down fax. If you or the Major want to come by as observers, feel free to drop in.

I'm outta here...

Transcript ends here.

Post 9

I raced back to HQ. Even as I was running from the car, I was punching Micah's number.

"Temple Of God Annex. The sun is setting but Christ is rising."

Panting, "Red here, pantin'. Is Micah available?"

"Micah speaking. You're late, Red."

"I was dealin' with some Breckenridge Elkin idiots. Just got back."

"I took the liberty to pitching over the food list. Did you solve the sniper problem?"

"Yep. Just some crossed jurisdictional wires. I'm confirmed to be runnin' the show at this end. And I don't use snipers."

"When is the food?"

" Gimme a minute to check it out at this end. I'll call you back in 5 minutes."

I thundered through the door.

The Hoover Doll sneered, "The thundering herd..." At least I think that was what he said.

"Never mind my showing up in the Richter Scale. Is the food here?"

"Over in the corner. The tele-evangelist wants to talk to you. He's out back."

I wandered out back. The tele-evangelist was talking to skinny young guy I didn't know.

"Who'se the new guy?"

"His name is Nate the Great. I asked him to come along with me so that he could take over the trolley work later. I have sermons to write."

There was something vaguely familiar with his appearance, but I couldn't put a finger on it.

"Well, let me call Micah as clear it with him."

I gave Micah a ring. Lo and behold he actually answered. I guess food was a motivator.

"What now, Red?"

"The tele-evagelist wants to bring along an assistant. He's complaining that he doesn't have enough time to write Godly missives for his flock."

"Yes, he discussed it with me over lunch.

He can bring over one unarmed assistant."

"Well. he won't have any weapons. God granted him with a couple of arms at birth."

"God doesn't like bad jokes."

"Just didn't want any misunderstandings. Chow's coming in a couple of minutes."

I hung up and gave the tele-evangelist the high sign. They loaded up the trolley and pushed it over to the brewery.

I filled in the Hoover doll about the sniper hoo-rah.

"You didn't really tell the Secretary of State to buzz off." He looked concerned.

"Sure did. 'Bout time somebody did. No wonder Bill was always cattin' around. Y'all got a Pearl around here?"

Having taken care of the beverage department, I looked out at where the sniper was. I saw him backing out, slowly There's something uplifting about watching a competent professional at work.

My thoughts were interrupted by a shout.

"Hey Red!, there's a Major Ruiz her at the door to see you. "

"Let him in!"

Major Ruiz walked over and handed me a fax. "Here's your official stand-down orders."

"Thanks, Major. Want a Pearl?"

"How about a soda instead?"

"Sure", and I got him a soda (I'm not getting paid any advertising money, so no plug.) "That was a nice job, watching the sergeant back out from his position. Real smooth and professional. I hope he doesn't get marked down for my spottin' him."

"He won't, Red. Will you need us around?"

"Major, I really hate to say no. These things are so unpredictable. Have you worked with the FBI before?:

"No."

"Hmmm. Major, let's use this as a joint training exercise for both sides." I waved over the Hoover Doll.

"Gentlemen, I'd like for you to pair up your men for the rest of the stand-off. I know it's not normal, but I think both sides can learn from each other. And that'll be good for both groups.

"However, we're gonna get the T.O. straight from the get go. The FBI has the legal authority, and the Marines are just being observers. Anything else would be unconstitutional. Agreed?"

They both agreed. The hoover doll said, "It's nice to see somebody trying to follow the law around here."

"Easy, the Major was following order he didn't particularly like." The Major nodded. "Now, it's getting late and I'm gettin' hungry. Does the FBI budget extend to some more Sea Island carry-out? And Major, would you care to join us?"

Post 10

Sometimes it doesn't pay to get up. There I was, dreamin' about a evening of dancin' and romancin' at the Do-Drop-Inn, when I got shook awake.

"What do you want." I said blurrily, "We was doin' right nice..."

"You need to see this, Mr. Edwards."

The only thing I needed to see was the back of my eyelids. Unfortunately, that was the one thing I wasn't going to get.

I tottered over to the TV. There, in living color, was that skinny assistant interviewing somebody on the TV screen. Bleep! That's where I remembered him from, doing local TV reportin'. Best ask the Bear about Algy...

"Is that Micah being; interviewed?"

"Yep. And you sent in the interviewer. They probably snuck in the equipment inside the cart. With today's miniaturization, it wouldn't take much space."

"The next time I see that tele-evangelist, I'm gonna take him fishin'. He's gonna be the bait."

I reached for my cellphone.

"Temple of God Annex. The sky is dark but Christ is Light."

"This is Red. I'd like to light up Micah's life. Can you put him on?"

"Not right now, he's working on his next speech."

"I need to talk to him about his witnessing. I'd like to do in person, if possible."

"I will leave a message at his elbow. Is there anything else?"

"Yep, could you sent the breakfast list back with the trolley? "

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Edward. Micah needs the equipment on it. He said to send over another trolley next time."

Arrgh.

The Hoover doll looked at me quizzically.

I forced a grin. "Looks like the pace is gonna heat up pretty soon, confidence or no confidence. I expect to be in the compound tomorrow. So, lets get your orders straight today."

"Today is tomorrow, Red. It's after midnight."

"Whatever. First, after I go in, ring the place so that not even a humanist could get out. If you see a little doggie sneak out, talk to him about what the situation is. He'll have the best chance of avoiding the goons on the inside to escape unseen."

The Hoover doll goggled. "Talk to a dog?"

"No, listen to what he has to say first. Then talk to him."

"A talking dog? You're nuts."

"Fella, he didn't get to be Pinwheel's Viceroy by peeing on the rug. He talks. And he's not stupid. He's certainly smarter than you average diplomat." Not that that was saying much. "Right now he's my secret weapon. He knows more about the inside setup than anybody. Nobody hushes up because a dog is in earshot."

"What does the bacon have to do with him?"

"It's his favorite food. I sent it in so he'd know that I was out here. Also so he'd know not to freelance too much."

The Hoover doll gave me a hard look. "You seem to be a lot more subtle that you look."

"Quiet! I've got an image to maintain. Dumb rednecks can get away with more that Harvard Grads. It comes in real useful in didoes like these.

"Now back to the plannin'. Y'all got the place circled with parabolic microphones?

"No."

"Then setup a hundred percent coverage ring. And for heaven's sake run them through a computerized volume control cutoff! I don't want anybody deafened in case things go down bad in there. This way y'all can sorta follow what's going on the inside. If I scream for help, they'll just laugh until the doors come crashing down. They won't realize that instead of bein' wired, I'm bein' listened to from the outside.

"Next, I'll need an attack team on call 24/7. And I mean on-call. It this thing pops, I'm going to need instant backup, not in ten minutes.

"Finally, have Major Ruiz sneak in some combat medics and a field aid station. I don't expect to need it, but better safe than sorry."

The Hoover doll looked up from his checklist. "what's you plan once you get inside?"

"I don't have one. Not enough facts. I'll have to play it by ear." Long doggie ears, I expect....

Post 11

I got up before the Grandy's breakfasts arrived. Still no word from Micah. Probably practicing his next speech.

I wandered over to the Hoover doll on watch.

"Y'all got the setup ready?"

"As per you orders, Mr. Edwards."

"Ok, here's a couple more I thought up when I got up. Make certain the attack teams have gas masks with their own O2. And see if you can scrounge up butyl mercaptan, in some easy-to-pitch glass bottles."

"What's butyl mercaptan?"

"That's what comes out of the business end of a skunk. Safer to use that tear gas, and much more disturbing. But tell 'em not to pitch it without orders. It may not be necessary, and I'm fond of my meals."

About that time the food arrived. I called Micah.

"Temple Of God annex. The sky in glowing with the joy of Christ."

"This is Red. I hope everybodies' appetite is rising with the sun."

"It is indeed."

"Could you ask Micah if I can roll the grub over? The last roller seem to join the congregation."

"I will inquire. Please wait."

I waited a few minutes. The answerer came back on the line.

"Micah say that you may roll over breakfast if you are willing to be searched."

"That's fine, if we can be dignified about it. I wouldn't want to embarrass any ladies."

"Micah will supervise the search personally. He'll see to it that we ladies aren't offended."

"OK, I'm on my way over."

Off I went.

Post 12

Micah met me at the doorway and frisked me. I wasn't carrying anything but a pound of bacon for VR. After distributing the breakfasts to the Baptists, I asked to distribute the breakfasts to the ambassadors.

"I'd like to see how they're doin', Micah."

"Well...They don't seem to be doing well, Red. But it's nothing that we've done. Most of them seem to have the shakes and some of them are seeing things. And they keep complaining about the food. I mean, what are Oysters Rockefeller and Romaine Conti?"

"Just the diplomat's equivalent to ham and eggs. Let me see what can be done. I'd like to feed the doggie as well."

"You're welcome to that mutt. He's been nothing but a pill the entire time. Always underfoot, ruining people's shoes, except when he disappears every once and a while."

"Probably just finding a place for leftover dinners. Or maybe he doesn't like to be around the rest of the ambassadors, either. You can't really blame him."

"I don't want to blame him, I just want to shoot him. But my Christian charity prevents that. Though not by much."

"So can I feed the ambassadors?"

"Have at it."

As I expected, there were a lot of shakes and a couple of D.T.s on the ambassador row. Most ambassadors are alkies to start with, it goes with the territory. Obviously Micah hadn't known about that feature of diplomacy, and hadn't added 2 + 2. I would call in a special Everclear prescription as soon as I could figure out how to smuggle it in.

The Papal representative didn't seem to have a problem, even though he must have been 90. Something about his carriage made think I wouldn't want to get on his bad side, even at his age.

Noting the red stripe of his rank, I asked him how things were going.

"Not so good, lika my Englessh."

"What's your name?"

"Monsegnior Camillo."

Camillo? Where had I heard that name before. Back when I was a kid... Hmmm.... Then it hit me! Uncle Jack! He had talked about a young parish priest named Camillo, back when he was a Looey during the occupation of Italy right at the end of WWII. He had gotten into an argument with the priest and had gotten his clock cleaned. It was the only time he had ever admitted to getting his clock cleaned...That was in the northern end of Italy, on the Po river...

"Padre, did you ever have a parish on the Po river?"

"Yes, for many years, before I became a Monsegnior. Whya do you ask?"

"I think you had some fisticuffs with a American Lieutenant, during the occupation, did you not?"

He grinned. "He hada fasta tongue, anda loose zipper. I hada to look after the women there. It is the duty of a parish priest."

Yep, that was Uncle Jack, alright. "The Lieutenant you had fisticuffs with was my uncle. He told us kids the story when we were growing up. Cleaned up a little, of course. Padre, if I can clear it with our captors, will you hear my confession?"

"Of coursa, my son."

I walked back to Micah.

"Micah, can I ask a favor of you?"

"Depends. What is it."

'I'm not of your faith. Can you give me and the old priest a quiet corner for confession? Confessions, as you know need to be private."

"Hmm.... I don't trust you, but that priest must be 90. I doubt he could do anything at his age...OK. Go find yourself a corner. but don't take too long."

"Thanks. Micah, for the professional courtesy. I'll limit my sins to a greatest hits collection."

I went back to Monsegnior Camillo.

"I cleared it with Micah. Let's go find a quiet corner."

We did so.

I started with a slight variant of the opening line. "Forgive me father, for I am not Catholic."

That got a jump out of the padre. "Then whya did you aska for a confession."

"It was the only way I could talk privately with you. I need you help to get these ambassadors out of here."

" I am willing to help, but I don't know where to lead them to or how to avoid them blowing up the building during the escape."

" I will take care of the building situation, and I'll get the doggie to tell you where the exits are."

"My son, how cana doggie tella me where the exits are?"

"He can talk." I raised my hand. "He is the result of some experiments a few years ago. He is as smart as you or I and can talk and listen. He's my secret weapon. He's been wandering around, getting the lay of the land. I'll have him nuzzle you ear and whisper the route to you. Capeesh?"

"Capeesh."

"The message to start the exit will be my singing Ave Marie. Good enough?"

"Good enough, my son. What will you be doing?"

"Why, I'll be discussing religion with Micah over a beer." And I winked at him. "Now for my penance?"

"You penance is to sing two staves of Ave Marie, when Christ needs you to do so. Go with God, my son."

We headed back to the rest of the ambassadors....

Post 13

I got back to the rest of the reprobates. I still hadn't seen VR. Well, there was one way to get his attention.

"BACON! Come and get it VR, BACON!"

A voice in the far end of the room, "What are you caterwauling about, Red?"

"Just tryin' to get the doggie's attention. I didn't haul this bacon over just to stare at it."

I heard the pattering of little paws joggin in my direction.

VR stopped at my feet, giving me a hard look.

I got down one knee. "Shake, boy, shake."

VR looked like he was going to have a hissy fit.

I said quietly, "Shake, or I'll have to make you beg."

VR gave me a good growl, but stuck out a paw. I shook it and then handed him the bacon. "After you get done," I whispered "come sit in my lap. We have things to talk about."

I wandered over to Micah.

I said, "Well, since I was dumb enough to let a newsie slip by me, I guess I don't really have a beef about your interviews. But soon or later we're gonna have to figure a way out of this mess. Any ideas on your end?"

"Why should I worry? God has granted me an even better forum for my message that I had ever hoped for. More and more sinner are being brought to the Light."

"Yes, but don't you have a duty to be around to show the light to those babies not yet born?"

"Not necessarily. Christ built an organization and let it go. I'm just expanding on the idea. Our ministry will march on, no matter what."

I didn't know who was tougher to deal with, Micah or Kaitempi Kate. All I wanted to do was to go back fishin'.

I knew whatever argument I came up with, he'd have a ready counter. Jui jitsu doesn't work on a rock. 'Course I was probably insulting the rock...

Still...

"Micah, I kinda looked over you setup, you got a problem."

That got some fur up. "What do you mean by that crack, Red?"

"Well, if you goal is to convert some of these ambassadors you got captured here, where's the immersion pool? Y'all are dunkers, not sprinklers. I don't see how you can send 'em out to Witness, unbaptized."

That caught Micah short. "Hmmm..."

"You can't used the brewery stuff. I mean, it just wouldn't look right to be baptized in a used beer vat. Absolutely goes against the Baptist message."

He had the dignity to look sheepish. "I guess I hadn't thought that through."

"You know, you and your acolytes need to huddle up and figure this one out. You can never tell when one of those ambassadors will step up and see the light. You wouldn't want to let that chance slip by because you weren't prepared."

"You know Red, for an unwashed scoundrel, you're pretty smart."

"Now don't be boosting my ego, Micah. I'm just tryin' to find a peaceable solution. Tell you what, let me go back over with the ambassadors while y'all sort this out."

"OK, Red." And they sorta huddled up and started talking noisy.

I figured this would give me a half hour do check with VR and start setting things up.

I sat down and motioned VR over here. He sauntered over to me and sat down. I decided to lie down on the floor where we could talk quieter.

"Have you cased the joint yet, VR?"

"Yes."

"Are the mines real?"

"Yes."

"Have you spotted 'em all?"

"Yes."

"Do any of them require climbing to get to them?"

"No."

"What kind of explosive?"

"C4 or something similar."

"Did them seem to be boobytrapped?"

"No, and none of these hotshots said anything about booby traps among themselves."

"Exits?"

"Three are ground level. All of them guarded."

"How many guards?"

"One for each entrance, and one on the roof as a lookout for any charge by the Feds. They rotate them every 8 hours."

"That makes 13, with Micah. three guard changes and a boss. How are they armed?"

"Automatic pistols, with extra clips. The long arms are over at Micah's corner."

"Yep, I spotted those when I came in. Do the guards have a line of site to any of the explosives?"

VR mulled that one over. "Don't think so."

"Well, they're used to you being a pain the backside. They haven't shot you yet. So here's the plan...." and I started whispering in VR's ear...

Post 14

After a quick chat with the Padre, I wandered back to the caucusing Baptists. No progress so far, but lots of noise....Showtime...

Suddenly, in the background...

"Youa lousy mutta, you crappa ona mya best shoes! While I'ma still ina them. I'lla fix your wagon."

A sneering bark, followed by the sound of something being throw and another bark.

"You no getta away from me. I go fixa your wagon!" Followed by the sounds of Monsignor Camillo chasing after VR.

After that, there was a continuing hubbub for barks, bangs, and yells from the Padre. I heard several "Helpa me catcha this stupid mutta." Some "Youa lousy doga." and "Standa and fighta likea doga." Mixed in with lots of "I'lla fixa your wagon" and a steady flow of Italian that I couldn't understand, but I felt that he was not asking VR over for Tea.

Some heads popped up outta the huddle.

I shrugged. "VR has just hacked off the Padre. I don't figure a 90 year old is going to catch him. Besides, if he does, think about what a bad light it'll put the Vatican in."

Micah popped up his head. "I hope he catches him." And gestures for the others to huddle back up.

Perfect. I couldn't have hoped for better.

The bangs and barks and yells went on for around another 15 minutes, with an out-of -breath Padre dragging back to the diplomats.

"I'lla turn you into a hot doga, yet." he leans against one of the big vats in the brew room where everybody was staying.

I hurried over to the Padre.

"Are you OK? A man your age shouldn't be chasing after a doggie, no matter what the provocation."

" I'lla geta that doggie yeta." He then whispered, "I gotta all the guards tieda up. Mosta of them are still outa cold." He grinned, "I haven'ta hada this mucha fun since the old days with Mayor Peppone."

"You get the detonators?"

"Behinda the vat. I puta the resta of the C4 behinda another vat. Over therea." He hooked his thumb in the required direction. "Oh, and herea." He reached under his hassock and pulled out 3 Glocks. "You mighta finda these of usea."

"What, no Tommy Guns?"

Monsignor Camillo chuckled. "Those werea the old days. Maybe you aska Micah for a couple, just for the olda times."

"I don't think Micah has a sense of humor, or any sense of the old times. These will do. You got the rags?"

"Backa with the detonators."

"Well, rest up. I've gotta go set some detonators."

I slipped one of the Glocks in my boot, and the other two in my waist band behind me. I pulled out my shirttail, which covered them up. Now it was time to start earning my pay, by setting the detonators.

This was the next tricky part, and I wasn't gonna delegate this to anyone else but me. With a quick look over at the huddle, which was still going strong, I started setting little pieces of C4, with a detonator each, on certain pipes, at certain angles, and then covering each detonator with a rag. I had to check the huddle after each setup but I got the last one done before the huddle broke up. I waited a few more minutes for my knees to stop knocking. You play with live detonators and C4 and think nothing of it. I was just glad my sphincters had held.

After I got settled down again, I wandered back over to the huddle.

"Any progress, Micah?"

Micah popped his head up. "What business is it of yours?"

"Just tryin' to help. Before you get too mad, could I offer a helpful suggestion?"

"And just what would that be?"

"Maybe y'all should take the matter up with the Lord with a prayer. It seems to me that if you're fussin' over a matter with the Lord, you need to let the Spirit move y'all for the final answer."

"Red, for an unwashed, heathen, scoundrel, you sure have some good ideas in your head. Have you ever thought about the ministry?"

"Not personally, but I do come from a long line of Baptist preachers on my mother's side."

"Why'd you go Catholic then?"

"Now Micah, y'all need to be worryin' about the Spirit movin' y'all, not my sins. Can I make one more suggestion."

"What?"

"Once you've given you prayer, maybe you might like to sing a few hymns. Help put you in the right mood for the occasion."

Micah just shook his head. "You shoulda been a Baptist preacher. That's a great idea."

So they start one of those endless Baptist prayer, asking for guidance. I timed it out at 9 minutes 14 seconds. At least they weren't singing Just as I Am. Not yet, anyhow. And I had the armament to make certain, not later, either.

After the Amen, I piped up, "Mind if I start the singing?"

"Sure, Red, why not?"

"Since y'all are Baptists, y'all won't mind if my singing isn't the highest calibre. The Good Book just says make a joyous noise."

"Get on with it."

"I'll start out with a good ole Catholic hymn called Ave Marie..." and I started singing.

They started going though the Baptist standard, which of course they had memorized. By the fifth one I caught VR out of the corner of my eye. I nodded slightly. He winked and nodded back, then jogged off.

I gave him two minutes, and then it was time for the first act of Henry the V.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, "HALLELUJAH! THE LORD HAS SPOKEN!!!!"

Post 15

"HALLELUJAH! THE LORD HAS SPOKEN!!!!"

A Glock suddenly popped up in each of my hand.

"AND THE LORD SAYS, STICK YOUR HANDS UP AND MARCH SLOWLY TO THE DOOR!"

Micah was quick on the uptake a dropped down behind his fellows and grabbed the bomb detonator box and fiddled with it. Meanwhile, some of the members were starting to eye the assault rifles along the wall. I better stop that...

'Don't even think about it. You'll be dead before ever get to the wall, much less aim and fire...So just stick 'em up, like good boys and girls. The Temple Of God Annex is going to relocate to Leavenworth."

During this time I had been backing up to the big vat behind me.

"I think not." said Micah, and waved the box while holding onto to it with one hand. "Drop the guns or I'll blow you and the hostages up."

"What hostages? They're all safe in the hands of the FBI."

"Impossible. I had a guard on every exit."

"Wanna bet? Your real tough guys got taken out by a 90 year old priest. You thought he was chasing VR. That was a show to give him cover to knock out and tie up the guards. He led the hostages out while you were singin' hymns."

"You... You... " followed by a burst of real nasty words.

"Now, now, a preacher shouldn't talk like that, even to an unwashed heathen."

"I still have the upper hand, Red. I can still take you and this building out."

"Maybe so, but will you? I don't think so."

"And give up destroying this house of poison? And a fast-talking liar like you?"

"Now I don't think I told you one lie. I may have left out an item or two, but no lies. You're just not as smart as you thought you were, Micah."

"Maybe not, Red, but I'm smarter that you think I am. You're in the middle of the building, and we're over by a corner. we have a much better chance of surviving than you do. Give it up. Red."

"What's life without your favorite beer, Micah? Blow it if you have the cojones, I'm not lettin' you out of here free."

Which way would the frog hop?

"C'mon. Micah, put that thing down and let's have a beer."

That must have been the wrong thing to say, because Micah suddenly screamed "CHRIST HAS RISEN!" and pressed the button.

BANGS went off everywhere in the pipes underneath all the brew vats and high pressure streams of Pearl and Pearl Lite came roaring at the Drowning Baptists. I was in a zone not covered by any of the beer paths, and VR was up on a platform and clear of the flood as well. Every time a Drowning Baptist tried to get up they got washed back down.

VR yelled at me, "NICE PARTY!"

I yelled back, "THANKS. PLENTY OF BEER AND ENTERTAINMENT, TOO. BETTER INVITE THE NEIGHBORS. " I screamed at the top of my lungs "FBI, MARINES, HIT THE DOOR AND FOLLOW THE NOISE. BRING YOU OWN CUPS!!!"

I started singing Tom T. Hall's I Like Beer.

"I like beer,

It makes me

A jolly good fellow..."

About 30 seconds later, the doors burst open and heavily armed FBI agents and Marines burst in, doing their careful cover and advance routine, approaching the beer streams which were still roaring. There was a lot of beer in the vats.

"Hey VR, we got a dance team now, too."

"Real nice party, Red. Maybe we ought to start thinking about how to shut it down now."

"Party pooper! But you're right. Let me get the Major over here. MAJOR RUIZ, OVER HERE."

The Major circle behind the flows to get to me."

"Major, I don't know how to shut these flows off, after all the explosives. We need to save these souls before they give up and drown. Can you use some ropes and kinda lasso the people and pull them out the beer, one at a time? You can then cuff 'em and have the FBI read 'em their rights."

"Smart plan, Red, I've got ropes, and they won't be any trouble one at a time." He raced off.

"Hey VR, bet you never thought you get to watch "Fishing For Baptist Souls" live!

"Beat any other fishing show I've ever seen. Of course that's not saying much."

"When they get the last one out, let's give 'em a round of Just as I Am. "

VR started chuckling. "Red, sometimes you're just too much."

"It you think that's too much, just wait until you see how I deliver the bars..."

One at a time, they got them all out. The last one was Micah. As he was being pulled out, I turned around and bent over and dropped my pants. A big ole full moon.

"All right VR let's hit it!"

"Just as I am..."

Unfortunately, I hadn't planned on Micah having a hide-out on him. I heard a Bang! and suddenly I'm flipped end-for-end, banging my head against something along the was. I was seeing double and my rump was on fire. There was something red flowing out from under me. I heard my voice saying, "Anybody got a couple of band-aids?"

Post 16

The shot didn't go unnoticed I later found out. Major Ruiz yanked down Micah and kicked the gun out of his hand. Micah was swarmed by a half dozen M-16's until he was double-cuffed, and dragged outside.

I merely noticed a couple of combat medics arriving as my eyes started to come back together.

"Easy fellah, where're you're hit?"

"Backside, rump." I hissed out.

At that point VR, rolled on his back and started howling, gurgling and twitching.

The medic asked, "What's wrong with the pooch?"

"Nevermind him, he's having the time of his life. I'm the one leaking blood."

They turned me over and took a look. After wiping off blood, I heard one of them say "Well, look at that."

The other said, "Black Talon?"

"Sure looks like it. Lucky for him it was a deep graze."

"Let's compress it and evac. Mister, you want a pain shot?"

"No. I gotta stay awake, 'til this is all wrapped up." Meanwhile VR is still twitching and howling, every time he looked at my backside, he went into another set of convulsions.

They padded me up to stop the bleedin' and fetch a stretcher over. Major Ruiz accompanied it.

"That was a damnfool stunt Red." He looked at VR. "What's wrong with the dog?"

"He's having the time of his life." I turned my head. "Shut up VR. You've had your laugh."

VR, of course, paid no attention, and kept on howling.

"VR, if you don't shut up, I gonna have the Marines throw you into the Pearl."

That got his attention. "You wouldn't dare, Red."

"Try me. Let's get out of here VR, and go home."

He chuckled a little more, "Alright, Red, lets go home."

A couple of Marines picked up the stretcher and headed out of the saved Pearl Brewery.

Back at the FBI headquarters, I had them park me, stretcher and all, where I could take to the head Hoover doll. Nate the Great was raising sand about being falsely held, him being a journalist.

"Yall might as well let the newsie go. He's not part of the conspiracy."

"Are you sure, Red?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But make certain you book Micah for Attempted Murder."

"Why?'

"Because he shot me with a proscribed bullet, a Black Talon." I ignored all the FBI grins. "That moves it up to attempted murder from aggravated assault. Check with the combat medics. Also check the other loads in his hold out. I figger there wasn't just one in the gun."

"Sounds reasonable. Anything else?"

"How are the hostages doing?"

"We gave a few bottles of Johnny Walker and they seemed to perk right up. The Monsignor is waiting over there to chat with you."

"Send him over, please. I'm not in shape to go to him."

Monsignor Camillo walked over. "You shouldn'ta madea fun of Micah that way."

"<sigh> I know Padre, but sometimes..." I shrugged.

"You shoulda doa a penace."

"Would 1/3 of the take home off this deal to your old parish, be penance enough?"

He smiled. "Morea thana enough."

"Then leave me a card or something so I can reach you to tell me where to send the money."

I waived over to the head Hoover doll. "Y'all hauled Micah away yet."

"Not yet, I figured you might want to talk to him."

They dragged a manacled Micah over.

"I got nothing to say until my attorney gets here."

"Well, I got one more piece of advice. Y'all better become a Methodist, 'cause you're not gonna see anything but showers for the next 30 years."

All that got me was a glare.

"Anybody need anything else from me? No? Good. Can somebody transport me to a hospital to finish the fix-up job? I've done enough for this day...."

EPILOG

Excerpts from the Grand Jury transcripts of The People versus Micah , page 47.

<Bailiff> "Mr Edwards, please take the stand."

<Oath Administered>

<Judge> "Now Mr. Edwards, please be seated."

<Edwards> "Your Honor, due to a personal injury, could the court indulge me and allow me to stand to give my testimony?"

<Judge> "That is a reasonable request, granted."

<Counsel for the Defense> "Can you explain to the jury why you wanted to give the Defendant a beer."

<Edwards> "I was just trying to give a beer to a person I was talking with. I was just being friendly."

<Counsel for the Defense> "But you then deluged him with 30,000 Gallons worth of beer!"

<Edwards> "I'm just a real friendly fellow."

CONCORDANCE

Post !

Gar - A fish common to slow moving stream in Texas. It has a different type of scale that all the other fishes, making it a "living fossil" like the coelacanth. They are long and skinny fish, vicious predators of smaller fish, though rarely bothering humans. The jaws are at least 1/4 the entire body length. They come in two varieties -the needlenose gar, which is the smaller of the two, and the alligator gar, which is the larger. How large? Needlenoses have reached nearly 5 feet (1.5 meters) in length, and alligator gars have been caught up to 8 feet (2.5 meters) in length. The author saw a small school of alligator gars at the San Francisco aquarium in 1977. They were only 5 1/2 feet long (1.75 meters), and weight 80 pounds (35 Kilos) each. They are not loved by fishermen because they eat up game fish. Difficult to catch without specialized equipment.

Choke Canyon Reservoir - Real place, 70 miles (110 Kms) due south of San Antonio, Texas. Built in the late 1970's for drinking water for Corpus Christi, Texas. The old family ranch is just off the #2 part boat launch ramp. On top of the island across from where the ramp (when full) is, was where my father was born...

Alligators at Choke Canyon Reservoir - True story, even to the "Watch Out For Alligator" signs.

Slide through the brush - The area of South Texas was heavily overgrazed around the turn of the 20th century. The result was massive growth desert scrub plants. All of them have long thorns and will grow close together, causing a scrub forest called chaparral . To help make it available for grazing land again, one used naval anchor chains dragged by heavy bulldozers, tearing the shrubs and small trees down. The land got the nickname of "The South Texas Brush Country".

Tricky Dick mask - Tricky Dick was a nickname of Richard Nixon, who resigned under a cloud of ethics problems.

Highly ranked dead members of government - Central portraits on US Currency. Grant is on the $50, Franklin is on the $100, McKinley is on the $500, and Salmon P. Chase was on the $10,000.

Hoo-rah at Wacko - The US government got stuck in a barricaded with hostages situation in Waco (wacko) with a religious cult. The government maintained a siege for for 93 days, then assaulted the compound with military grade tear gas, armored cars. and heavy machine guns. Somehow a fire got started. Virtually no survivors. And yes, there were many women and children in the compound...

wacko - a slang term for crazy

German boys in '46 - The Nuremberg trials. The infamous "I was only following orders" defense.

Post 2

This isn't going to be another Alamo - Red was warning the FBI not to stage another armed assault while Red was negotiating.

Stringer - metal chain for keeping caught fish on.

Post 3

fully qualified for this style of communication - "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone..."

bullpen - American Baseball term. In it's simplest terms, the game has a player trying to pitch a ball over a designated spot on the field, with the other team's player trying to hit the ball as it goes by. When the pitcher stops being accurate, the pitching team has the right to replace the pitcher with another one. Each team keeps a group of replacement pitchers handy, who may or may not play, depending of the play of the starting pitcher. Otherwise, they just sit around and talk.

even without my amigo - From the American TV show Sledge Hammer. A comedy about an over-the-top Dirty Harry type cop and his gun, (his amigo).

Post 4

Inning - another American baseball term. Each team get a chance to hit the ball, the combination is called an inning. A game consists of 9 innings, except if it ends in a tie score.

Witness - Baptist term for preaching at people who don't want to be preached at.

the Light - convert to Baptist.

the Calling - the need of some Baptists to Witness.

Sea Island - A nice, local to San Antonio, seafood carry out chain. Red recommended.

Post 5

Go with the Spirit - good luck

Y tu tambien - Spanish for "and you too".

Post 6

Nothing to add

Post 7

Jake - See the first Red story, The Case of the Golden Coprolite.

Kaitempi - From the book Wasp. by Eric Frank Russell. The name of a ruthless Secret Police. Great read. The real person disguised as Kate is left as an exercise to the reader...

Post 8

Mena - Drug running base in Arkansas when Slick Willie was President. Known for all the bodies that popped up there. The author knows one of the few survivors....

Cartiff on a toad - From the book Second Stage Lensmen, by E. E. Smith PHD. The finest of the Space Operas. The full quote is from a discussion between a representative of a local protection racket and the hero, posing as a head Mafioso (Cartiff) muscling in on the local rackets. "Tell your boss that if a toad gets in my way, I step on it." The local racketeer finds out the hard way (his choice) just how hard the hero could step....

Post 9

Breckenridge Elkins idiots - Robert E. Howard Western character. Stronger than a horse and almost as smart.

Post 10

humanist - a philosophy that holds that there is nothing more important that human beings..

didoes - Western slang for shoot-outs

Parabolic Microphone - by using a parabolic reflector and placing the microphone in the center, it acts like a telescope for hearing things...

Post 11

The last roller seem to join the congregation - Pun on roller. Certain sects of fundamental Christianity in the US are nicknamed "Holy Rollers" (don't ask why), usually shortened to Rollers. The trolleys roll on wheels...

Post 12

Most of them seem to have the shakes and some of them are seeing things - Classic sign of alcohol withdrawal. Diplomats are notorious for heavy drinking.

Looey - Lieutenant, a junior officer.

Everclear - Drinkable 95% ethyl alcohol. Used to spike punches with...

Capeesh - American Italian for understand

Post 13

dunkers, not sprinklers - Baptists baptise by full immersion, rather that by sprinkling with water as done by many other Christian branches.

Post 14

since the old days with Mayor Peppone - From the Don Camillo books. They are a series of short stories about Don Camillo versus The Communist Mayor, Peppone. All the jokes in this section come from the books...

Just as I Am - The Closing hymn at a Baptist worship ceremony. A call for conversions.

Post 15

They're all safe in the hands of the FBI - A parody of the Baptist phrase "safe in the arms of Jesus".

cojones - Tex-Mex slang for testicles, which is also slang for having courage.

Tom T. Hall's I Like Beer - The perfect country western song about beer drinking.

Post 16

Black Talons - A form of expanding bullet that formed a buzzsaw form when it hits a person. Very nasty. So dangerous that the factory voluntarily stopped making them. There are some still in outside world, though.

Table of Contents

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Post 14

Post 15

Post 16

EPILOG

CONCORDANCE