Eric looked up at Juan who had just walked through his office door. Without saying a word, Juan motioned down the hall towards the men’s’ room. Eric caught the hint and followed Juan. Walking into the men’s room, Eric turned on the noisy ventilation fan. “What’s up?”
Juan narrowed his eyes. “Tomorrow night we are calling in our chit from the Chinese. They may try something. How many of the inspectors under our control are working in your berthing area tomorrow night?”
“At least three. What will they try?”
“They have a bunch of ex-cons working security for their operation. They might be bringing in some of these guys. We think that they access to some serious firepower.”
“Like what we talking about at Grainger’s office?” Eric felt a sudden spasm in his abdomen.
“Yeah, if it gets dicey, we need to make sure that no one calls the cops. Can you turn off the phones?”
“We have a way. We allow all of the inspectors to carry personnel cell phones in addition to their two way radios.” Eric felt his intestines writhe.
“Can you declare some kind of security alert to not allow the cell phones?”
“There is a way, but I have to figure out how to do that without arousing suspicion.” The pressure in Eric’s abdomen pushed up into his diaphragm, making breathing difficult.
“We also need to make sure that the pilot who goes out to meet the ship is one of ours. The ship must come in to a point where we can either sink it or damage it severely. Can you see to that?”
“That is actually a little more difficult. We can try, but can you provide an escort in case he does not cooperate?”
“We will have an escort to go out with the pilot, perhaps a trainee? Make this all happen and you will be rewarded handsomely. Fail, and you will be punished.” Juan turned and left the men’s room. Eric made a mad dash for a bathroom stall.
DeMario pulled his 68 ‘stang into the driveway in a gentrified portion of the Redwood Heights neighborhood of Oakland. Limping up to the front door of the house, he knocked.
“DM you ol’ skunk, good to see you. Come on in.”
“Hi Pete. Let me get my bag, and Elena sent over a cooler full of her tamales.”
“Your wife’s tamales are heaven! I have been talking to some of the honchos. From the sounds of it, we will need to eat lots of tamales. We will need the energy. They say that the fireworks could happen at any moment.”
Continued ...