Black Flagged Apex

Chapter 43





9:52 AM

Lake Wallenpaupack

Poconos Mountains, Pennsylvania



A single loon cut through the glassy water just off the small dock extending from the property's rocky shoreline. Lee Harding sat at the end of the floating dock in an Adirondack chair, holding one of the sporting rods they had found in the immense post and beam rental house. Jackson Greely followed the gravel path to a point where a small wooden ramp met the rocks. When he stepped on the dock, the loon suddenly took off, skipping along the water until it had gained enough speed to achieve flight. Harding turned his head and nodded a greeting.

Jackson took the empty chair and set his coffee down on the chair's wide arm.

"I just heard from Brown. Sergeant Osborne's chief took a call from an FBI agent asking questions about his vacation schedule. Apparently the chief told them to piss off," Jackson said.

Lee muttered an obscenity and met Jackson's stare. "That was fast. I assume you accelerated the timeline of our insurance policy?"

"We cash in on the premium tonight. That should buy us more than enough time to get the convoys on the road. Once the convoys depart, they can connect all of the dots and it won't matter," Jackson said.

"Tell Brown to get rid of Osborne. The FBI isn't likely to accept the chief's response. They'll obtain the records. It's fair to assume that the feds have connected the operatives captured or killed by their employer's vacation schedules. I wonder what else they're working on?" Harding said.

"It won't matter after tonight. They'll be in the middle of redeploying the entire task force based on what they found at the compound, when all hell breaks loose. Confusion will reign supreme for days."

Lee nodded in approval. "And the lab?"

Jackson was starting to get a little annoyed by Harding's barrage of questions. He didn't even have his cell phone handy…which wasn't a shocker given that he only fielded calls from Jackson. King Harding sat on his throne and accepted reports from his subordinates. He shouldn't think like this. The two of them had been friends for a long time, and Harding's aloofness wasn't a new development. He'd always been a "hands off" leader. Jackson was the direct opposite, with a leadership style that bordered on micromanagement. He'd long ago learned to identify competent and trustworthy people to help him compensate for this intensive, "hands on" approach. Brown was one of those people. Anne Renee was another. Maybe Lee's easy affect was due to the fact that Jackson took care of everything. He'd never been forced to adapt his style.

"Carnes is bitching up a storm, but he's pretty sure we can get the bottling wrapped up tomorrow morning if they work through the night. Shipments will leave late tomorrow afternoon if all goes well," he said.

"I can't believe we're this close. One week from now, things will start to change. The stage will be set for the New Recovery," Lee said.

"We still have a long way to go, and most of it will be out of our direct control," Jackson corrected.

"True, but the time has never been riper. The mortgage crisis is in full swing. Mortgage-backed securities. Credit default swaps. Collateralized debt obligations. The big banking collapse is flying just below everyone's radar. The nation needs new leadership to weather this manmade crisis. True America will step in to fill the void."

"We just need to get the convoys on the road," Jackson said.

They both stared out at the tranquil lake, still unspoiled by summer boaters.

"Has Young resurfaced?" Lee asked.

"No. I don't expect he will."

"Let's hope the FBI doesn't have him. He's enough of a weasel to roll on us."

"I'd be relieved if the FBI had him," Jackson said, causing Lee's head to snap up.

"What do you mean?"

"The team that aided his escape in Atlanta was outsourced. Highly skilled and untraceable. I'm hoping Mr. Young hired them. If not, we could have a big problem," Jackson said.