The Time of The Cat 17
SEVENTEEN
CALL FOR HELP
Over breakfast, we discussed how to get assistance. We agreed that we couldn’t go to the government for help considering their possible involvement, but some of my underground contacts might be possible. We thought that they’d be less likely to be infiltrated by human-disguised Pugs. They made a habit of vetting everyone with whom they worked, just like I did, and their vetting process was so thorough that it made government standard procedures look like enrolling in kindergarten.
Anyway, the upshot of our discussion led me to call my old friend and sometime collaborator, Rudolph Belachick, on one of my burners.
Rudy was a little upset that I’d called him without using a more secure line, but he agreed to meet us in Lexington, Virginia. He wouldn’t say exactly where he was located. He never does, and I appreciated that act of caution. Everyone hates to have their safe house blown, especially someone who isn’t a citizen and doesn’t belong in the country.
Liz wanted a summary of what Rudy said, but I asked her to wait until we got in the SUV.
Before we left, I wedged the phone in the crack between the seats. That works about as well as dumping it in a trash bin. With any luck, it would be found by someone who’d use the remaining minutes in personal calls, confusing any trackers.
We went back to the hotel and got the cat, the weapons, and the black Mercedes, in that order.
Jefferson seemed to be content being carried in an open duffle bag. He’d poke his head out if he was interested enough to look at where we were going, but mostly he kept down, out of sight.
The trip was at least a three-hour drive, being just shy of two hundred miles. I pulled into a gas station to fill up. I paid with cash to avoid being traced. The national database collectors have made every effort to keep tabs on every credit card in the country.
Now, I know that they believe this is necessary for counter-terrorism, but it hasn’t proven effective. However, it really was a good way for the Pugs to track people, assuming that they had the relevant credit card numbers. My cards were all corporate and billed to the usual variety of shell corporations, but my system might still be traceable, and that would be really inconvenient in the current circumstance.
Jefferson sat on the back of the rear seat and watched as I filled up the tank. At first, I was a little concerned that he might look suspicious, but who looks at a cat in a car anyway? You might look at a dog, especially if it were barking, but not an ordinary orange cat. As I thought about it, it seemed like a good idea for him to watch. His vision was so sharp that it made me feel more comfortable. I knew that, in a sense, he was covering my six, as the fighter pilots put it.
Liz had gone across the street into a pawnshop. She came back with a portable GPS that she’d found. It was exactly what we needed to locate our rendezvous point. The Mercedes was nice, but the owner hadn’t thought to purchase the navigation option. I’d broken off the antenna, anyway, feeling more paranoid than usual. I didn’t want any possible tracking going on.
As we started our cruise down the highway, I told Liz about my conversation with Rudy, “Good news! It looks like we’ve finally found some reinforcements. We’re going to meet an old friend of mine, and he’s bringing some experienced fighters with him.”
“I hope they’ll bring plenty of firepower,” was her response.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “They’re all professionals, and I told him to make sure they’re heavily armed, although I didn’t tell him how hard targets the Pugs are.”
It was about three hours later when we rolled into our rendezvous. We used the GPS to locate the specific point where we were to meet. It was in an abandoned warehouse located near the railroad tracks. There wasn’t much traffic, and the nearest residences were quite a distance away, so I felt that this would be an acceptable site. We were pretty far from the important parts of town, too.
I felt good about our trip. There had been no problems, and, as far as I knew, we hadn’t been tracked or seen. Also, we’d arrived early enough to check out the location for potential problems, like unexpected ambushes. We took some time nosing around the place, and then, since Rudy and company weren’t due for another three hours, we located a nearby restaurant. Leaving Jefferson in the car with the windows partially open, we went in and had a nice lunch. There was a pretty strong breeze blowing, and Jefferson had plenty of fresh air. For water, Liz had poured out most of a water bottle into a bowl we’d accidentally borrowed from the cafe that morning.
Per my normal operations manual, we sat in a booth by the front window. It’s always a good idea to have a position to observe anyone setting up a potential surprise. This time it proved to be no exception.
The restaurant was in a run-down part of town, and about halfway through our meal, a couple of low-life types came scrounging up to our car. By the time I’d gotten out there, they’d made the mistake of trying to reach through the window and open the door. Both were bloody and scratched and were sporting some nasty-looking bites on their fingers. The overall volume of cursing was loud as I walked up. Jefferson was making a series of yowls, daring them to try to stick their hands in the car again.
“Say! Is that your cat, buddy?” one asked, simultaneously trying to appear ingratiating, threatening, and innocent. “I’m going to call the cops on you. He nearly ripped my arm off! He should be put down. He’s dangerous!”
I tried to be reasonably nice, although I was laughing pretty hard at the time, “You shouldn’t be reaching into other people’s cars. It’s not polite.”
“I was just worried about the cat, Mister,” he whined.
As we talked, the other guy tried to flank me, thinking that I was distracted. Some people don’t seem to learn easily. I’d been watching for him to make a move out of the corner of my eye. Even if I’d not, Jefferson let out a yowl and tried to reach through the window, leaving no doubt about what he’d do to the guy if he could only reach him. That was another reason to like that cat. He was a really good watcher. If there was some way to make him leopard-sized, he’d be about the most deadly partner you could wish for.
When the guy to my rear pulled out a knife, I dropped his friend with a low round kick to the knee and spun, bypassing his rush and knife. He must have felt somewhat stupid as I locked his arm up and removed the knife by twisting his fingers open. As the other guy was staggering to his feet, I stepped to the side and swung the man I was holding into him. They both fell down in a heap, cursing loudly as they tried to disentangle themselves.
By then, Liz was in the Mercedes and had started the engine. I jumped in, and we sped off through the light traffic. The fight had been so quick that not many people had even noticed. We didn’t want to attract any more attention than we absolutely had to since we needed to stay in the area to meet Rudy.
Jefferson was still brushed up, with his hair standing on end. I’d pulled the cargo cover over our weapons, and he sat on it as he watched through the rear window, just in case the two managed to somehow catch up with the car. We’d gone around a couple of corners when a police car came down the cross street headed towards where we’d been with siren wailing and lights flashing.
“Oh-oh!” I groaned. “Looks like someone called the cops.”
“Let’s park and wait for a while,” she said, pulling over as the cop car went out of sight. “I’ll walk back and take a look to see what’s going on. You stay here and watch Jefferson.”
So I petted the cat while she headed around the corner. Jefferson enjoyed himself, purring loudly. It wasn’t more than five minutes, and Liz was back in the car, giggling.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked as we drove away. I didn’t think that the situation merited her amusement.
“Those dopes tried to argue with the cops, cussed them out, and both of them got tased and arrested. I couldn’t think of a pair of lunks who deserved it more,” she broke out into another somewhat suppressed giggle.
“Well, at least they won’t be hanging around messing up our meeting. The only problem is someone may have given the police our description, and they may still be cruising around here.”
“We’ll have to park down the street and keep an eye out for your friend, then,” she said as she maneuvered the car through the narrow streets back towards the warehouse. She parked. Then we changed places and settled down to wait.