Chapter 25

Sat-Sun

For the rest of the day and the next two, I met potential buyers and sellers of arms, jewels, old coins, and precious metals. I also met Chloe’s family, and met Jan’s parents again. The jeweler barely spent any time at all looking at the jewels.

Each bag of diamonds had been carefully gathered to weigh exactly one pound, although individual diamonds weighed from .5 carat to three carats. The diamonds in each bag were all the same quality, excellent. One bag held one pound of D flawless diamonds. The dealer put a sticker with the current price on each bag, somewhere between $25 million and $50 million, along with the quality of the stones in each bag so I could estimate their future worth based on the current market. He did the same for the other gems, too. I left half of the diamonds and all the other gems, as well as half of the precious metals for him to sell since he couldn’t possibly come up with enough cash for everything on such short notice.

From him, I ordered a dozen identical necklaces, each with a diamond encrusted horseshoe surrounding a gold J. He was excited at first, but paled when I turned the ladies loose to choose the stones. All I did was insist that the necklaces be as close to identical as possible. I told him to deduct the cost from the proceeds of what I had left for him to sell.

When we were on the way home, Will asked me what I thought. “I think I can handle the job I’ve been asked to do. I’m worried, though, that it may be a means to an end, trying to get me to commit full-time to one agency or another,” I replied. The grimace on his face when I said that didn’t help make me feel any better.

“I’ll be honest; each of the services would love to have you full time. I know from talking with Dwight, your last boss, that we don’t have a chance of accomplishing it. He warned that you would walk away from everything if we pushed you too hard. He explained that you saw yourself as a farmer, just like you told me. I warned all the other agencies off, so there will be no attempts to recruit you.

“When you came to everyone’s attention, they reviewed all your action reports, and compared them with the reports from the other agents who were there. They concluded that you either have impeccable instincts, or that you really are lucky. Either way, they don’t care. Dwight told them that if someone told him they had proof that you were a space alien, he’d just ask them, ‘and your point is?’

“Now, the other services want to borrow you for cases that Dwight calls ‘big uglies,’ the ones that can get out of control before anyone can respond, and usually end up on the front page or with agents dead or both. I set it up so they have to clear them through Dieter to make sure they don’t overload you and chase you off. If you start feeling overwhelmed, let Dieter know and he’ll cut them off for a while. To us, you being our intermediary is the most important thing. If you’re willing to help with any of the others, it’s just gravy,” he explained nervously.

“I’ll give it a try,” I agreed. “Warn them that planting season and harvest season are going to be limited to national emergencies, though.”

I laughed at him when he released a deep sigh of relief. I had noticed Nate watching me appraisingly. “Want another hired hand?” he asked me. He continued when he saw my confusion. “Hannah and I would love to spend more time with the girls, and it sounds like you could use someone who knows how to deal with the Washington bigwigs and bureaucracy,” he explained.

“Might not be a bad idea,” Will agreed. “Oh, by the way we arranged for your offshore account to be activated without you having to show up. You can set up any additional accounts you want now without having to go there,” he said. Yet again, I wondered just how much they knew about me.

By the time we landed, Nate had a much better idea of what I did and how I did it. Now he could pass assignments meant for me on to the two men Will planned to send me, relieving me of some responsibility.

“We might as well do everything at once,” Will said, calling someone and telling them to send the two men down right away. “There is a bit of a backlog, and this will let us work through it faster. It might also free you up sooner to help the Secret Service. The case Ray wants your help with is driving him crazy.”

Nate moved over next to his wife and told her that I had agreed to hire him. She was instantly trying to smother me with kisses and strangle me at the same time.

Will thanked me and waved goodbye to us as our rides arrived to take us back to the airport. It was almost dinner when we got home and I noticed several men and one woman I hadn’t seen before, all with military style haircuts and wearing BDUs with their names on them.

With access to the offshore money now, I went into my study and called Bradley Vaughn, my money manager. “Are you sitting down?” I asked him.

“Yeah, why?” he asked cautiously.

“Do you have that list of passwords handy that I gave you?” I asked.

“It’s in a safe place,” he replied.

“I just emailed you the web address for a bank, and an account number. Use the ninth password on the list. The answer to your first question is, ‘yes, it’s real.’ The answer to your second question is, ‘yes, it’s legal.’ Invest up to ninety percent of it, although you will need to hire someone else to help you now,” I chuckled.

“Just a minute. I’m almost there,” he said. I could hear him typing on his computer in the background. I could tell when he saw the balance. He’d been quiet for several seconds while he concentrated on accessing my account. A second after the typing stopped, I heard a quiet gasp.

“Breathe, Bradley,” I teased.

“Oh, my,” he gasped finally. “I don’t have nearly enough places to invest all that yet,” he apologized.

“I didn’t expect you to, Bradley. That’s why I said that you needed to hire someone to help you. You keep doing the research that you do so well, and let someone else look after the day-to-day stuff for you.”

“I think I’m getting vertigo from rocketing up through higher tax brackets,” he laughed.

“Take a few deep breaths and go tell your wife. She’ll know how to keep you grounded, and how to spend your raise,” I teased.

Sunday evening

After hauling my luggage to our room, I put the diamonds and gold ingots that I kept back into my safe and went downstairs to eat and to meet the six new people. All six were military helicopter pilots who had been retired because of wounds or injuries they had received while serving. Each had been able to pass a rigorous civilian flight physical, but the military held their pilots to a higher standard.

After dinner, we adjourned to my study. The pilots had only been told that I was interviewing pilots to fly near-military helicopters on civilian missions.

“What did they mean by ‘near military?’” one asked.

“No rockets,” I chuckled. “We’re allowed to have the other arms and countermeasures, along with the complete electronics package. I even have one of the stealth Blackhawks on order, but I’m sure the government will eventually want to buy it back,” I explained.

Since I didn’t feel anything warning me away from any of the pilots, I explained about being an intermediary, facilitating discreet sales between various government agencies to individuals, companies, and other countries.

“That explains the security clearances,” another pilot commented. “We all had to pass a new security clearance before they would let us apply. We’ve talked generalities since getting here, and each of us has flown at least one classified mission before,” he explained.

They each had a paper with a number I had to call if I decided to hire them. I was surprised to learn that they would be leaving right away for further training. Each of them would be recertified in what they knew, and would then be certified for all the other helicopters I would have. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know who was paying for the training, certain that it would eventually fall to me. Thankfully, the sale of the tanks had added more than a million dollars to my personal account and should easily cover the cost.

When I finished, I was tired from a long day, but an excited Keegan was waiting for me, bouncing like a little kid on Christmas morning. “I know how he did it,” he exclaimed excitedly. He led me back into the study so he could explain.

“Sonja helped me search his office. We found the recipe in an envelope taped to the back of a shelving unit. The recipe is a good one, but I think my old one is better. While I was wondering why his hooch turned out to be so good, I went back through the storage rooms, the slave quarters, and the cooper’s shop, looking for clues.

“I noticed that one of the slaves had marked every stave he made with a small notch on each end. When I looked at it closely, I realized that his staves were made from beech wood, not white oak. It looks enough like white oak that nobody would have noticed unless specifically looking for it. When I checked all the barrels in the aging rooms, each barrel had two beech wood staves side-by-side, and the barrel was positioned with the beech wood staves down,” he explained.

“Why beech wood?” I asked.

“Some beer breweries use beech wood barrels because the beech pulls a lot of the nasty compounds from the beer. I think it’s the reason the tannins weren’t overpowering in the bourbon,” he explained.

“Do we use your recipe or his?” I asked. “Or both?” I added as an afterthought. I thought Keegan would break out into song as he did a little dance and fist pump.

“If you can afford it, I’d like to do both for three years. After three years, we taste both, see which is best, and concentrate on that one.

“Okay, why don’t we get a large General Steel building set up so the basement is in one corner,” I suggested. “You can set up the stills at ground level. You’ll need a bottling machine, a cooper’s shop, and a bunch of experienced coopers, including a couple who can keep a secret about the beech wood staves. Install a freight elevator or make a long ramp down to the cellar to drive stuff up and down using a forklift. Maybe you can do the bottling in the cellar to use that space.

“Get men making the barrels and then start bottling what we already have. Once we have enough barrels, start production of the new stuff. I think we should hold off selling any of what we already have until it’s all bottled. Demand is going to be crazy. I gave the gift packs to some the most powerful men in the country and they will probably be bragging about it soon, if they aren’t already. That will be the start of our advertising, word of mouth. When we’re ready to sell it, the people who can afford it will already have heard about it.”

I went online, set up yet another offshore account, and transferred $50 million into it. I realized that I was going to need someone to help keep my different accounts straight for me. My old bookkeeper could still handle the farm accounts, but I now had the government’s account to keep straight. I would be moving money back and forth to collect my cut and to repay myself for things like the Blackhawk. I was sure there would be chargebacks from the government for training the pilots. Now I had a separate account for the distillery to keep track of. Man, this was getting confusing.

Keegan gasped when I gave him the account number, routing number, and access code for the account. “Don’t cut corners,” I insisted. “Use only the best equipment, the best ingredients, and the best people. Hire as many people as you need to do the job right and pay them what they’re worth. If we’re putting the Lucky J label on this stuff, I won’t accept anything but the best.”

“If that’s not enough to get started, let me know,” I added.

Since Larissa, our resident ATF agent was still on duty, I asked if she could make sure we had all the necessary licenses and permits to start distilling and selling whiskey and bourbon. “As long as I get another taste soon,” she agreed.

When I got to the bedroom Janie motioned me over and wanted to talk. “We agreed to let Stella and Chloe get pregnant first, but Jan and I are next, and don’t plan on waiting more than three or four months after you knock up the first two,” she warned.

Monday

I woke up wondering who got to let the dogs out for the last two mornings. The reason I wondered was the dog licking my face to wake me up. I also wondered how I always ended up on the outside of the bed when I was usually in the middle when I fell asleep. After using the bathroom, I led the usual parade of dogs outside and enjoyed watching them romp. “So happy and carefree,” Juwanna commented from behind me as she joined me for a minute.

“Watching them each morning lifts my spirits to start the day,” I told her.

“You do seem to be taking on more and more responsibility,” she replied. “The good you do for your people and everyone else should lift your spirits, too,” she commented.

“I feel good about what I’m able to do for everyone, but watching the dogs run like that touches something inside of me,” I explained. As I thought about it, I realized that I had no idea what it was about the dog’s carefree joy that touched me. Was it a desire to be more carefree like them? Was it a wish that I could help people find that kind of joy, or any joy at all for people who were in desperate situations? Who knew?

This morning, Nicole evidently won the lottery to polish the top of my desk with her bare skin.

The pilots were all up early and explained that they were flying out to Kirtland AFB in New Mexico this morning. They had to be at NAS Meridian to meet the flight, so I offered to drive them. Realizing that my pickup wouldn’t carry that many people, I realized that we needed more vehicles.

When I went outside to see whom I could scare up to help me drive all six pilots, I stopped in the front door and stared, and then started laughing. Waiting in the turnaround in front of the house was a Humvee ... sort of. I’m not talking about a civilian Humvee wannabe, but a full-blown, armored, desert-camouflage painted Humvee with the Lucky J logo on the door. The only difference was that it was a stretch version. Somebody had obviously spent some serious bucks getting something like this made. When I looked, the keys were in it, yet another modification from the original. The only thing missing was a ma deuce ( .50 caliber M2 Browning machine gun) sticking out through the hatch in the top. Somehow, I had a sneaking suspicion that even it was around here somewhere and laughed again.

“Sweet ride,” one of the pilots commented when they all came out. With all their gear, it was a tight fit, but we did fit. Despite expecting us, the gate guard at the base was surprised to see my military ID and snapped a crisp salute. I nodded in reply, having absolutely no experience with performing an acceptable salute.

Once the pilots headed for the plane waiting for them, I was surprised to see two men exit the plane, carrying duffel bags. As they approached me, Adam and George introduced themselves. They were the two men Will had sent to help with my new job.

After waving goodbye to the pilots who were boarding the same plane, I headed home, getting to know the two new men better. Both had been seriously wounded in the line of duty. While fully capable of doing everything they did before, they weren’t up to the grueling training schedule they had occasionally been required to keep. They seemed to understand the importance of the job I’d been asked to do. They were surprised that this was the full extent of their interview.

“I’d have felt it immediately if either of you wasn’t able to do the job or if something was wrong,” I explained.

“We were told about your instincts,” George commented.

“I learned a long time ago to listen to them. My family would listen to me while I was still in junior high school. Now that I’ve accepted my heritage, my instincts are even stronger,” I explained.

While the two men were calling their families to share the good news and to arrange for them to join us here, I mentally reviewed my growing TTD list. Remembering Jan saying something about Chloe doing paperwork for her old boss, I asked if she felt up to helping with the accounting.

“I can help, but Hannah would be better,” she suggested. Seeing my confusion, she explained that Hannah had worked for years as an accountant at a large accounting firm headquartered in Jackson. I wondered how she knew that, but realized that the women had been talking almost nonstop, getting to know each other.

Since it was after 7 a.m. here, it was after 8:00 in Washington, so I called Dieter and asked about having Hannah keep track of the money in the account I set up for the transactions they had me do. He was quiet for a minute before replying that she would be fine. Evidently, Nate underwent a background check for the work he did as he frequently had access to sensitive information. Part of his background check included checking on his wife. He also reminded me that Ray from the Secret Service was climbing the walls waiting for me to call. Something in Dieter’s voice told me that he found great humor in that.

Finding Nate and Hannah I asked if she would be interested in helping with some of my accounting. When she was receptive to the idea, I explained more about my newest job. She was excited to be trusted with something so important. Showing her my huge study, I told her to order whatever office furniture and other things she needed. “Nothing made from plywood or particle board, only get things made from solid wood. Get oak, maple, walnut, or whatever you want. Get whatever you need in the way of computers and programs, too,” I told her. I also told her to have it delivered and set up for her.

Next, I made a call to a manufactured housing company in Meridian. He was surprised that I wanted thirty units. I listened to what he could provide and ordered ten basic three-bedroom models for the handlers with kids at home and the two men I had just hired. I added fifteen two-bedroom models, and five one-bedroom models. They would all fit on the concrete pads we already had.

I ran out and found Connor, explaining the urgency of getting housing set up. I hadn’t foreseen so many new employees this fall and winter, especially ones with families moving in from outside the area. He showed me around the area he had laid out for the houses, and sent men over to prepare lots to pour more pads and foundations in the second part. Fortunately, they had poured enough pads the first time for all my current employees to live and enough for fifty more families.

I was impressed with the progress on the greenhouses. Connor had already poured all the necessary concrete for the structural supports for all five greenhouses and had the structural parts ready to begin installation as soon as the concrete cured. Ramón already had tomatoes, three types of summer squash, and strawberries started in anticipation of transplanting them soon.

Connor switched to pouring pads for mobile homes, motor homes, manufactured housing, and foundations for the first batch of houses. Utilities had already been run to the first area since people lived there already. Connor’s men were now running utilities to the second half. As quickly as I was hiring, I thought we’d need to expand the second section.

Keegan had already spoken with Connor about the distillery, and two foundations had been poured for the two General Steel buildings that were ordered, one to house the stills and supplies, and a smaller one to use as a cooperage. Another group was helping to remove the old stills from the tunnels. This group consisted of general laborers that Connor had hired to help with odd tasks so the experienced construction workers could concentrate on construction.

I stopped in to see Keegan and he was busy directing almost twenty men. Some were lugging the old stills into the cellar so they could be lifted out and others were cleaning out the cells in the west tunnel. Keegan planned for all but one of those cells to become more aging rooms, as would the office in the south tunnel. “Considering what you do for a living, and what has happened out here, I decided to leave one cell so that you could lock someone up,” he explained. Instead, I asked to have three steel cell doors taken to the gang house. If I were going to need a cell, those would be closer to my house and the security office and easier to watch. The steel doors would replace the wooden doors although it would require some work on the doorways to widen them.

Since the closed tunnel had helped keep some of the whiskey from evaporating, he was replacing all the doors with tight-fitting wooden doors with glass windows and seals around the edges. Wood crossbars, instead of steel bars, would help hold the doors closed tightly.