Page 96 of The Fourth Option
Walker handed her eight hundred bucks pulled from the stash in the van.
“Give me five minutes to get in position,” he said. “Then drive up, make the buy, and get out. Anything looks off, trust your gut, don’t push it.”
Walker turned around and slid a wool military surplus blanket from the back seat, revealing his Bravo Company AR and Ops-Core helmet.
“Jesus, Chris, we are not here to kill everyone.”
“Sometimes your adversary has other ideas. I’ll be close if you need me. Make the buy. Don’t loiter. Then meet me back here when it’s done.”
Walker stepped from the car and slid the sling over his head. He then attached his monocular NOD to the helmet, again wishing he had liberated a bino or quad NOD from the Agency instead of the monocular, and adjusted the helmet and optic on his head. He tested his IR laser. It was working. He then removed the helmet, tucked it under his arm, and wrapped the wool blanket around his shoulders to obscure the helmet and weapon.
“What do you think?”
“This tactical homeless look is surprisingly similar to your normal everyday homeless look.”
“Perfect. Remember. The buys I’ve seen go down this week are quick and smooth; cash in exchange for what I think is a small Ziploc bag of pills or powder.”
“Stop worrying. I’ve got this.”
“Give me five mikes.”
“Five mikes?”
“Five minutes.”
“Roger, good buddy,” she said, in an attempt to take the edge off.
“Dial me in.”
He wore a wired earbud that was plugged into the flip phone in his pocket. Belle dialed the number and established the comm link. She zipped her phone into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and adjusted a Bluetooth earpiece.
“Say something,” he said.
“Uh, read you loud and clear?”
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Stick to the plan.”
Walker shut the door and moved off into the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
WITH HIS JACKETcollar turned up, helmet in his armpit, and suppressed rifle pulled tight to his body beneath the blanket, he walked over the cracked, dilapidated sidewalk toward the eighties-era Cadillac Sedan DeVille propped on cinder blocks in the driveway of an empty house. Good concealment. The passenger-side door was missing so Walker slid into the seat without excess movement. From here it was seventy yards to the dealer’s house. He pulled the blanket from his shoulders and adjusted the helmet and NOD on his head. He then deliberately loosened his sling and set the rifle’s handguard on the dashboard with the suppressor protruding just over the hood. The DeVille was missing its front window, so Walker had an unobscured line of sight to his target.
It’s not a target.
Yes, it is.
“I’m in position,” he whispered into the built-in mic of his earbuds. “Go off Bluetooth and switch to speakerphone.”
“Okay,”she responded.“Going off Bluetooth.”
Walker heard rustling as she unzipped her pocket and switched her phone to speaker so the earbud wouldn’t draw attention. He heard the zipper close.
“How’s this?”she asked.
