The Outsider (James Bishop 4) (6 page)

Bishop decided to clear the air and move the subject to something else. He noticed the man’s wedding ring and said, ‘Been married long?’

‘Almost seven years. Why?’

‘Just curious. Never got round to it myself. You got kids?’

Lomax shook his head. ‘Got a dog, though, which is almost the same thing.’ He smiled faintly to himself, obviously visualizing his pet, and said, ‘You like dogs?’

‘Who doesn’t? What kind is he?’

‘German shepherd. Four years old. Here, I got a photo.’ Lomax reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slid out a four-by-six photo, folded down the middle, and showed it to Bishop.

Bishop saw it had been taken in somebody’s backyard. In the forefront, a friendly-looking German shepherd panted at the camera, while just behind, tickling his ears was the wife in question. With her sharp cheekbones and large eyes, she was extremely good-looking, which was surprising only because Lomax was so plain. In Bishop’s experience, like generally attracted like, at least in physical terms. Or maybe he just had hidden talents.

‘Beautiful dog,’ Bishop said. ‘And a stunning wife. You’re a lucky man.’

‘Yeah, you don’t need to remind me,’ he said, and took the photo out of Bishop’s hand and stuffed it back in the wallet.

‘So you live around these parts?’

‘No, I’m from back East.’

‘New York?’

He sighed and turned to Bishop. ‘No, a little place called Bloomington, Indiana. Believe it or not, New York isn’t the centre of
all
life on this planet. Anything else you wanna know about me, like what kind of grades I got in high school, maybe? My favourite football team? The chest measurements of my first date?’

Bishop could see the conversation had quickly soured for whatever reason, and said nothing else. The car interior was filled with silence again, which was perfectly fine with Bishop. Silence was his favourite sound.

After three more minutes, he noticed movement in the side mirror. A black panel van was slowing as it approached the station.

‘Here we go,’ he said.

Bishop got out and adjusted his suit jacket as he leaned against the SUV. Back at the house Hammond had loaned him a spare suit and shirt, since they were about the same size. But no tie. That was taking things too far.

He watched as the van slowed and turned in. There was a tasteful shield logo on the side with the words
DALY DESIGNATED DEFENSE
in silver next to it. Underneath was a Bakersfield, CA, address and a toll-free number. The windows were tinted. The driver paused, then steered the van in Bishop’s direction before coming to a stop beside their SUV.

The driver’s door opened and a smiling black man in his thirties got out and stretched his arms out. He had close-cropped hair and wore tan chinos and a tight black T-shirt that emphasized his muscular physique.

‘Bishop,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Long time, man.’

‘Long time, Nels,’ Bishop said, shaking the hand. The man’s grip was as strong as ever. ‘I was expecting somebody else to make the actual run, or does the CEO of a major supply company have nothing better to do than play delivery boy these days?’

Nelson Daly shrugged. ‘Hey, I just decided this’d be a good chance to see how my old sergeant was doing. I could have flown in on the company jet, man, but I’m in cloak-and-dagger meetings in Mexico City for the next couple of days and I figured this’d be my last chance to see daylight for a while. So, you been waiting long?’

‘Not long.’

‘Cool. So based on your request, am I to assume you’re still in the close protection racket?’

‘No, I got forced out of that a few years back. This is just a one-off deal.’

‘Something special, huh? I can dig that.’ Nelson looked over at Lomax getting out the other side and said, ‘Who’s the square-head?’

‘A federal marshal by the name of Lomax. So you made your first billion yet?’

‘In my tax bracket? Forget about it. I sure ain’t starving, though. Man, private security’s a field where you have to work real hard
not
make a fortune these days. You should really come and see me, Bishop. I could always use a man like you. And I’ll make you a millionaire in less than six months, guaranteed.’

‘There’s more to life than money, Nels, but thanks for the offer. So have you got the stuff I asked for?’

Nelson smiled. ‘Yeah, I got it all in the back. Come with me.’

At the rear of the van Nelson unlocked and opened the double doors. Completely filling the interior were two dozen large flat boxes, all stacked against each other.

‘All four by two,’ Nelson said, ‘except for the three extra pieces measuring seven by two. Those are the dimensions you wanted, right?’

‘Perfect,’ Bishop said. ‘Let’s get them loaded. Better lower the seats in the back.’

‘Right.’ Lomax opened the rear door of the SUV and went about making room.

While he was occupied, Nelson said, ‘Those extra
extra
items you asked for,’ and handed Bishop a snub-nosed Taurus .38 Special in a horsehide pocket holster, along with two speed loaders.

‘Thanks. This thing traceable?’

Nelson smirked. ‘You need to ask?’

‘Guess not.’ Bishop pocketed the gun and ammo.

‘And you can take this, too.’ Nelson handed Bishop a business card with just Nelson’s name on it and two phone numbers. ‘For future reference. My private
private
numbers, only available to the chosen few. I’m incommunicado for the next couple of days, but after that either of those numbers will go straight through to me, without fail.’

‘I’m honoured.’ Bishop nodded his thanks and pocketed the card.

Then both men began removing the boxes one at a time and stacking them next to the SUV for Lomax to load. At a hundred and twenty pounds per box, it took a while. It was almost fifteen minutes before the three of them had finished transferring everything over.

Nelson locked his rear doors and said, ‘So who’s paying for all this, Bish? You?’

‘No, Uncle Sam,’ Bishop motioned towards Lomax, ‘in the shape of this guy here. All right, pay the man.’

Lomax pulled out his wallet. ‘You got a total for me?’

Nelson opened the driver’s door and from the passenger seat grabbed an invoice he’d obviously printed out earlier. He handed it to Lomax and said, ‘Including sales tax, the grand total comes to exactly thirty-seven thousand, four hundred dollars.’

Lomax’s eyes went wide. ‘Thirty-seven
thou
–?’

‘But since Bishop and me go way back,’ Nelson interrupted, ‘I can do you a twenty per cent discount, which brings it down to a nice round thirty thousand. How’s that for customer service?’

Lomax still didn’t look too sure. Bishop said, ‘Just pay the man. Delaney’s already authorized it.’

The deputy mumbled something, then handed Nelson a credit card. Nelson grabbed a portable wireless credit card processor from the passenger seat. He swiped the card and said, ‘So, you keep in touch with any of the other guys at all?’

Bishop knew Nelson was talking specifically about the other members of their old FAST unit. He shook his head. ‘I’m not too good at that kind of thing. One of my many shortcomings. How about you?’

‘A couple.’ Nelson handed the machine over so Lomax could key in the PIN. ‘Burrows, Hastings. Remember them? Oh, yeah, Jeffries, too. Funnily enough, your name often crops up in our conversations.’

‘In a good way or a bad way?’

Nelson took back the machine and said, ‘You never ordered us to do anything you weren’t willing to do yourself, man. And you never left anybody behind. They’ve always been major virtues in my book. And believe it or not, I learned a hell of a lot about leadership from you. I know the others all feel the same way.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘You should.’ Nelson printed off a receipt and handed it to Lomax. ‘Okay, we’re all squared away here. Thanks for your business, Mr G-man. Maybe you could put in a good word in with your boss about the discount, huh? I always say a growing business can never have too many government contracts.’

Lomax gave a vague nod and went round the other side of the SUV and got back in.

Nelson was still smiling. ‘I don’t think he likes me.’

‘I don’t think he likes anyone,’ Bishop said. ‘Well, I better get going, Nels. Thanks for delivering on such short notice. I appreciate it.’

‘Hey, glad to help out. And just between you and me, if I thought the money was coming out of your pocket I would have handed this stuff over gratis. But since the government are paying …’

Bishop nodded. ‘I don’t blame you.’

‘You have a safe drive back, okay, man? And try and stay in touch from here on in.’

Bishop smiled as he opened his door and got in. ‘Maybe I will at that,’ he said.

Back at the house, it took less than three minutes to transfer all the boxes from the garage to the Stricklands’ room. Five men were doing the carrying this time, though. Strickland and Barney both sat on the main bed, watching the activity. Once the boxes were all stacked against the wall and the deputies had returned to their posts, Bishop glanced at his Seiko diver’s watch and saw it was only 16.27.

Good. They still had plenty of daylight left.

Bishop used a small kitchen knife to cut through the packing tape on the nearest box and then opened the flap. Barney got off the bed and came over to join him.

‘So is this stuff any good?’ he asked.

‘Better than good,’ Bishop said, hauling the rectangular four-by-three bullet-resistant fibreglass panel out and resting it against the box. It was about one and a half inches thick and had a crochet-ribbed design across its rough surface. ‘Since we don’t have a safe room in this house, fortifying this room is the next best thing, and these panels will do that.’

Barney felt along the side of one. ‘Pretty thick,’ he said.

‘It’s got a level eight protection rating, which means it’ll stop anything up to and including a .762 lead core full metal jacket. I’ve tested it myself. It’s serious stuff.’

‘What are these things here?’ Barney asked, feeling the thick, stubby fibreglass rods that protruded all the way down one side of the panel.

‘Built-in dowel joints,’ Bishop said, ‘so each panel can connect up to its brother to form one long unbroken shield. See the corresponding holes in the other side here? Each panel’s the same. Easy to assemble. Even easier to take apart. No drilling necessary.’

‘So what’s your plan, Bishop?’ Strickland said. ‘You going to cover this room from top to bottom and lock the two of us inside?’

Ignoring the sarcasm, Bishop said, ‘Not quite. These plates will cover the bottom four feet. Anything larger, there’s too much danger of the dowel joints coming apart and causing a breach in the defence. For the windows over there, I’ve got three taller panels that’ll cover them up entirely, but that’s it.’

Strickland frowned. ‘Four feet? So we just duck-walk everywhere?’

‘You’ll be either sitting or sleeping in here most of the time anyway. This is just an extra level of defence, that’s all. If the worst happens you all dive to the floor and stay there. This stuff will stop anything short of a frag grenade. And even then it’ll minimize the intensity of the blast by roughly seventy per cent.’

‘So you agree with Delaney?’ Strickland said. ‘You think they’ll try again?’

‘We have to be prepared for the possibility. And to paraphrase Ben Franklin, I’ve always believed an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.’

Delaney entered the room at that point and glanced at the large packages leaning against the wall. ‘Your pal came through for you, then.’

Bishop nodded. ‘He always has done.’

‘Need any help putting it all up?’

‘No, I can probably do this solo. If I can’t, maybe Barney here can lend a hand, right?’

Barney shrugged his shoulders. ‘I guess.’

‘Good,’ Bishop said. ‘In that case, you can make a start by opening these other boxes for me. Want this kitchen knife?’

‘Nah,’ Barney said, and pulled out a miniature multi-tool on a keychain from his front jeans pocket. ‘I’ll use mine.’

Bishop had almost finished assembling his improvised safe room by 17.55, yet while Nelson had included some panels with dowel corner joints to ensure no gaps, there was still one gap he couldn’t avoid. The door. Despite what he’d told Barney, Bishop had to drill a single panel onto it and hope nothing got through the unprotected spaces on either side. It looked as though he’d have one corner panel left over once he was done, too, which suggested he’d either miscalculated or Nelson had been in something of a rush when packing the van.

As he worked on the last two panels, he glanced over at Barney. It was just the two of them now, Strickland having left shortly after he’d started work. Barney had stayed quiet through most of it, occasionally watching Bishop assemble the inner wall while he quietly played a video game on his pocket console.

‘What you playing over there, Barn?’ Bishop asked. ‘A shoot-’em-up or something?’

‘Uh-uh. Tetris.’

‘Tetris?’ Bishop smiled as he worked. ‘They still producing that old thing? I used to love that game.’

The boy looked up at him. ‘
You
used to play Tetris? But you’re too old.’

‘I’m not
that
old. Back when I was in uniform, a guy in my squadron would always bring one of the very first Gameboys with him on manoeuvres and any down time we had, we’d take turns on Tetris. Everybody in our squad was addicted to it.’

‘Yeah? So what was your record for clearing lines in a single game?’

‘Five thousand, seven hundred and forty-six.’

‘No
way
. Seriously?’

‘But I paused the game a lot during that one, and I never played it again afterwards. I’d gotten it out of my system by that point. How about you? What’s your record?’