Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Willy Tamarack
Title: The Chronicles of Willy Tamarack - It's Fun to be Invisible
Part: 20 of 30
Universe:
Summary:
Keywords: (no sex)
Language: English


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   @(C) 1996-2015 Willy Tamarack Commercial use in any form requires the
written permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds
goes to the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

   !!!!!  ATTENTION !!!!!

   Before we get going here, several notes.  The following is a sex story.
A stroke story.  A porno story.  The content is unsuitable for youngsters
and some adults may find it objectionable.  I've ensured my material is
properly coded and registered.  Adults, who have custodial responsibility
for young minds, must ensure this smut doesn't fall into their children's
hands.  To charge the government with that responsibility.  Wow !  Don't
get me started.

   All my stories are total fantasy.  They are fiction, made up.  MSU (made
shit up).  I started this effort in several forms before deciding on "The
Chronicles" for a direction.  Yes !  Willy is back !  Kicked some ass and
took some names.  The aftermath of the hit on the Mexican assasination
squad finds Willy growing weed with Amanda and Erin out at Lake Las Vegas.

   And while the plot and subplots of the following tale stem from the
author's fertile imagination...The characters...Well, the characters are
also total fantasy.  They don't exist, never have and never will.  Any
public figures mentioned are for background and time line purposes only.

   Remember now...Sex should be fun !  As always e-mail your comments to
the usual.

   The Chronicles of

   Willy Tamarack

   It's Fun to be Invisible

   (no sex)

   by

   Willy Tamarack

   With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S.  Constitution

   Chapter Fifty-eight

   Three police detectives were interviewing the owner of the zapateria. 
He claimed to have seen the whole thing and was telling the police that the
assasin came through his store during his escape.  Unfortunately he was
telling his story to his neighbor, the dress shop owner, before detectives
got to him.  So the story was going to get out.  The dress shop owner
didn't see shit except for the fire crackers going off.

   The A.P.B.  went out as soon as a description was available.  The
zapateria owner took more than fifteen minutes to decide on some aspects of
the description.  Medium to tall, elderly Hispanic male with long stringy,
gray hair.  Wearing a gray coat, sun glasses and a green baseball cap. 
Assumed armed and dangerous.

   Mindy and Anderson were watching the morgue people put Wayne in a body
bag.  The locals were going through his stuff like he was some regular
stiff.  It pissed Mindy off.  Anderson just wanted to go back to a room and
crash.  Tamarack wouldn't be within a hundred miles of here.  The trace on
Mindy's call this morning came from Alaska.  He just wanted to get away
from this disaster.  A dead agent !  Fuck !  Here comes another car load of
suits.  And the press was starting to draw a crowd outside the ropped off
area.

   The police found the black Hummer on the next street, parked at the curb
with a flat left rear tire.  The driver had disappeared.  Wasn't long
before they discovered the plates were stolen.

   Back inside the mall, the police were taking photos of the dead bodies
by the cafe.  Several men were down on their haunches looking at the
wounds. It appeared that the bullets that took out the men covered with
glass were mercury tipped bullets and blew large holes in their victims. 
The man near the table was shot five times and that was a guess as his
crotch area was oblitereated by gun shot wounds.

   The D.E.A.  agents heard five shots.  The store owner counted five and
said he was watching the old man stand over the body and shoot into it. 
People heard five shots yet there were at least seven or eight wounds. 
Must be another shooter !?  Now if they can just find the old man ?  A big
if.  The surveilance video of the plaza was being safe guarded.  They were
canvasing the area with hundreds of men.  Something would show up.  The
store owner was giving a description to a sketch artist.

   *****

   Snake and Carlos were standing by the window and looking out at the
lake. They were talking about the swallows they directed at the D.E.A. 
team.  "...Oscar said it couldn't have gone better.  One of the best he'd
ever been involved in.  Said the girls were outstanding and the players
were animals, especially the woman."

   "Where'd you send them ?" Snake asked.

   "Hawaii for a couple of months.  Fuck !  That fuckin' Tamarack found me
another ten pounds of his stuff.  I know he has a stash around here some
place.  Our share is sixty-four 'k' and I'm paying him fifty percent of
street." Carlos answered.

   "He's your buddy now !?" Snake snorted.

   "Hey !  I'm just saying..."

   Casey was behind the desk monitoring the local T.V.  stations.  It was
just coming up on ten fifteen.  "Okay...Here we go.  There's something on
channel seven.  Ticker at the bottom of the screen.  Gun fight at shopping
mall.  Multiple shots fired.  Multiple deaths reported.  We have a crew on
the way to the site in east Las Vegas.  More on ChannelSevendotCom."

   Snake and Carlos were now standing behind Casey, looking over his
shoulder.  The web site reported nothing more.  The ticker kept repeating
itself.  Other channels had similar tickers flashing across the top or
bottom of their screens.  The info was essentially the same.

   *****

   At ten-twenty the Channel Seven news helicopter got footage of the dead
bodies.  They missed the dead agent and the Mexican shooter at the western
end of the mall but got real good video of the three bodies near the cafe
at the eastern end.  The station interrupted regular programing to show the
video, claiming it was live.  That's what the anchor said.  What he meant
to say was that it was taken live just a few minutes ago.  It was only
seconds long and they went to commercial break a few moments later when the
anchor ran out of things to say.

   The helicopter camera man got only a few seconds of usuable tape of the
bodies before the police instituted a no-fly zone around the shopping
center.  News people noticed that there were several police helicopters
flying at low altitude over near-by neighborhoods.  The activity was
attracting more people and Nellis Blvd.  traffic was being detoured.

   Back in the news room the tape was being edited and reviewed.  Three
bodies, no doubt about that.  Lots of blood.  One of the bodies shot
multiple times.  Somebody shouted, "Is somebody writing this down ?!" Lots
of people laughed.

   Away from the comotion, the news screener was looking through his
in-basket for next week's schedule.  He thought he was getting moved to
junior editor.  That's what he'd been told.  The disk was lying right below
the schedule and when he picked it up the disk was revealed.

   He picked up the disk.  "DEA - OPERATION TRUSTED SOURCE" jumped up at
him.  What the fuck was this ?  They were still going nuts over the
helicopter tape.  Nobody else had it !  They just sent three more trucks to
get boots on the ground.  Three deaths, confirmed.  From gun shots,
confirmed.  He popped the disk into his computer.  There was one text file,
media dot txt, on the disk.  He opened it.

   He read it for a second time before picking up the phone and calling his
editor.  He talked for just a few moments and then hung up.  He emailed a
copy of the text file to his editor.  The phone rang two minutes later and
he was walking the disk to the editor's office.

   The editor was on the phone telling someone to, "...Ask if agents
Montana, Weathers or Davies are at the scene.  Ask about Operation Trusted
Source.  And look for a large quantity of marijuana, maybe in one of those
big eighteen-wheeler grocery trucks ?  We're looking for a Miguel Passeo
too, possibly one of the dead.  Supposedly a cartel big shot.  You got all
that ?  Concentrate on those aspects.  Leave the shoot out to the others.
This could be a huge story.  Get on it." He hung up the phone.

   "Okay...where did you find this disk ?" He was holding it in the air and
flipping it back and forth like a fan.  Moments later the phone rang.  The
editor picked it up and listened for a moment or two.  He put his hand over
the phone and said, "We've got the dress maker, next door to the shooting,
going on camera to tell us what an eye witness told the police.  It's going
on in just a few minutes."

   The whole news room was looking toward the monitor.  The anchor, with a
picture of the dead bodies in the background, was talking about the number
of shots fired based, on photo analysis.  Another commercial break and
they'd be back with an eye witness account of the shooting.

   *****

   Casey had downloaded the pictures shown by Channel Seven.  Carlos and
Snake were enlarging them.  They agreed that they were all Hispanic and
from the way they were dressed, probably well off Mexicans.  The one guy
was mutilated below the waist but also had chest and head wounds.  The
other two, just three shots and they weren't sure of that because of the
angle of the picture and one guy was laying half in and out of the cafe.

   Casey exclaimed, "Oh !  Shit !  Look at this." He turned up the volume.
The dress store owner was in front of the press telling his story, "...No,
I didn't see it directly but my friend next door in the shoe store did.  He
told the police that it was an old disabled Hispanic man.  I remembered him
browsing in my store before the shooting." The dress store owner forgot to
tell the police that fact.  "He shot them all and stood over the one,
shooting him three, four, five times.  There's blood all over.  Then the
killer went through the shoe store and out into the street.  The shoe store
owner saw him come through his store.  They made a picture.  Like I said, I
didn't get a good look at him.  I was waiting on someone else..."

   The anchor broke in with the latest, a police sketch of the killer.  It
was a non-descrip face mostly hidden by a large pair of sun glasses and the
drooping bill of a baseball hat.  The anchor was reguritating what the
dress store owner said during his interview.  There were police officers
escorting the dress shop owner away from the cameras back into the mall for
further interrogation, I'm sure.

   Snake started laughing.  "Download that picture, Casey."

   "Already done, Snake." Casey answered immediately.  Snake was still
laughing, watching the dress store owner being led away on another channel.
They were all looking at the picture on the high resolution screen of
Casey's laptop.

   "Carlos how good are those sketch artists ?"

   "Depends on the guy giving the description, mostly." Carlos answered.

   "It's like a computer, Snake.  If shit goes in, shit comes out." Casey
said and then laughed.

   "Well, does anybody here think this looks anything like Tamarack ?  Or
did he contract it out to some old spic from a retirement community ?"

   Chapter Fifty-nine

   We were in the kitchen.  I was cooking.  And smoking bowls.  Erin was
assisting both with the cooking and the bowl smoking.  Wanda was sitting in
their breakfast nook right off the kitchen.  She showed little emotion when
they showed the video of the dead bodies but did react to Amanda jumping up
and down, yelling, "You did it, godfather !  You fucking smoked him !"
Wanda's eyes got very big and round.

   Amanda rushed to me and we embraced.  Erin was hugging me from behind.
Wanda went back to watching the T.V.  I dug my tongue deep into Amanda's
mouth and we frenched for several seconds.  I could feel the teenagers body
bring mine alive.  I slipped my hand down the back of her jeans.  Her bare
ass was in my hand.  I pulled her up by her bare ass until her mouth was
close to my ear.

   "Feel safe now, Amanda ?" I whispered into hers.

   "Thanks, Willy.  Scooter thanks you, too.  I love you Willy."

   I put her down and poured three shots of Jack.  I handed them out then
raised my glass.  "To Scooter Fisher, Luci Tamarack and Pablo Tamarack."
The three of us called out, "Hear !  Hear !" Down the hatch went the Jack.

   Wanda looked over at them.  All Gary would need to know was that Willy
was back in town and he would put two and two together immediately.  She
looked back up at the screen.  They were switching to some store owner for
a live interview.  She called to them across the kitchen.  "Hey !  Listen
up !"

   We were immediately silent, listening to the dress store owner.  I
recognized him.  While I was in his store, he thought I was trying to rip
off shit with the bags I had tied to the walker, like a homeless, disabled
old man, limping along.

   I torched up another bowl as the man pretty well described exactly what
happened and he hadn't even observed it.  So the first story was told to
this guy which means the police will get subsequent stories which will
always differ from the original.  Hopefully some mis-information would be
hitting the airways soon.  The store owner was through and they'd cut to
the sketch.

   Erin turned to Amanda, "That's him, sister Amanda !?"

   Amanda came right back, "Yes, I believe it is, mother superior !" I
charged our glasses.  We toasted the zapateria owner for having such a keen
eye.  We laughed and smoked another bowl while the anchor went over all
they knew one more time.

   Wanda looked at Willy and then back to the T.V.  There is no way in this
world that Willy Tamarack could ever look like the police sketch.  If they
were looking for that guy ?  He no longer existed.  They would never ever
suspect Willy.  Wanda Cahill was sure of that.  Her memory was flooded with
the other rat fucks they'd helped Willy with.  Fleecing all that guy's
money; that was a trip.  Those explosions in the desert.  And now they were
providing a hideout for him.  Gary went back a long way with Willy but she
knew Erin went back even further.  Their bond was evident.  A phone rang.
Willy had three lying on the kitchen counter.

   *****

   Micky Rincon was traveling southwest on Saint Rose Parkway, heading to
the I-15 south.  He found an all news station and was listening to the
almost non-stop coverage.  He'd seen some helicopter traffic as he was
heading west on Charleston toward the ninety-five but since then the sky
had been clear.  He was confident he slipped away totally clean.  Didn't
see a soul until he was two blocks away.  But the gun was still in the tool
kit and it was in the trunk.  He'd be glad to get that back in Ashley's
attic.  He was coming up to a red light at Eastern Avenue.

   He opened the glove compartment and took out the phone.  It was coming
up on eleven.  He pushed talk.

   It was answered on the third ring.  "I'm here.  Where are you ?"

   Micky answered.  "Saint Rose Parkway and Eastern.  Clean."

   "Make sure you call your uncle when you get home..First thing, now."

   "Yes, godfather."

   Micky closed the phone and took his time getting the memory card out of
said phone.  He slipped the card into his shirt pocket and then threw the
phone out the window at the first opportunity.  He watched it break apart
skimming across the rock field off the I-15 entrance.  He accelerated to
seventy-five and was just another guy heading home to SoCal after a couple
of days in 'Vegas.  Four hours or so.  He might stop in Barstow for some
food ?  He was hungry.  He wondered if there was an "In&Out" ?  He watched
the rear view mirror every couple of minutes or so and was careful to study
those who passed him.

   *****

   Anderson Davies was just back from accompaning Wayne Montana's body to a
local hospital.  He was looking for Mindy when he heard his name being
mentioned.  Few knew that they were here.  Their covers might be blown if
they remained any longer.  I guess it was a little late to worry about
that. They'd discharged their weapons.  And Wayne was dead.  He moved
toward the guy in the suit, detective so and so.  He met him earlier.

   "What about Davies ?"

   "Oh, there you are.  Some news people over there..." He pointed off in
the direction of the roped off area.  "...want to talk with you about some
operation.  They had all your names.  I didn't tell them Montana was the
officer down.  But they know we lost an officer here.  So watch what you
say."

   Anderson was concerned.  He looked around for Agent Weathers.  He was
just about to ask when he spied her over talking with a couple of guys.  He
approached.  They were talking about the identification of the dead bodies.
None of them had any I.D.  on them.  Pictures were being taken and compared
to the data banks they had on the cartels.

   While Mindy thought the shooter could possibly be Tamarack ?!  She was
far from sure and not about to mention his name to some no-name detectives.
Anderson touched her on the shoulder.  "Some reporters have our names. 
Want to talk with us.  We're fucked here, Mindy."

   Mindy backed away from the detectives and walked with Anderson.  "We
were blown when we fired our weapons, Anderson." He nodded his head.  "So,
I've called home and given them a brief outline of what we were doing. 
Told them the call came from Alaska.  Mentioned Tamarack's name.  They said
they never heard of him.  He's not in any data bases.  So I told them we
saw an ecrypted file on Montana's computer.  And now agent Montana is
dead."

   The two of them were alone.  Police were walking about and collecting
all that could be scooped up off the ground.  Mindy started up again.  "I
was told we don't mention Tamarack.  We got a tip from an anonomus source.
Wayne was along for the ride."

   "Sounds good, Mindy.  You gonna talk with the press ?" Anderson asked.
Mindy was already heading toward the yellow ribbon.  The Channel Seven
reporter saw her coming.  Several officer's had identified her.

   The reporter called her name as she approached.  Mindy nodded her head.
The question flew out of the reporter's mouth.  She knew a camera was
rolling.  "Is this Operation Trusted Source ?" Mindy didn't have any idea
what the reporter was talking about.  She babbled something about not being
able to confirm or deny that.  And she couldn't comment on current
investigations.  The next question concerned Miguel Passeo.  Mindy never
heard of him but babbled the same bull shit.

   "How much marijauna have you confiscated ?" "Was Agent Montana running
this operation ?" "Who is the agent down ?" The questions never stopped. 
This was getting to be like a broken record.  Over and over the same
answers.  Mindy finally backed away from the cameras and moved back into
the mall.  That was a disaster !

   *****

   Back in the studio the editor and producer were watching the interview
live, like everyone else in the Las Vegas Valley.  The editor turned to the
producer.  "Let's run with it.  She didn't say shit to refute it and she
could have.  I'm having my guys rough it out.  Give us twenty minutes."

   Just then the young man, who had discovered the computer disk in his
in-basket, came running across the room.  He was winded.  "Sunrise just
admitted a `Wayne Montana' and he's D.O.A.  Gun shot wounds.  One of our
guys was there; saw him come in, a thousand cops around him." The editor
looked back at the producer and then to the young man.

   "You've read it twice.  Write it up with what we know about the shoot
out.  I want it in ten minutes." The young man dashed away.

   *****

   We were all on the couch in the front room.  I was going from channel to
channel to see who had the best coverage.  They were all about the same. 
The sketch was all over the networks and they were reporting that over
three hundred police officers were investigating, interviewing people,
searching neighborhoods.

   The anchor was going over the number of dead, now at five and added that
one of them was a law enforcement officer.  The name was being with held
until, "bla...bla...bla." The info volcano was belching info into the air.
The main stream media were there to catch it along with several bloggers
who'd picked up the story from the local news.

   "It just went national on CNN." Amanda yelled as she came out of the
kitchen with more toast.  The coffee table in front of the couch was
littered with plates and glasses.  There was a pitcher of orange juice,
half full, at the end of the table.  I had my lap top connected to the T.V.
and was recording Channel Seven.  They were the ones I was most interested
in.  Pure luck that they were the ones to get the video of the bodies. 
But, well...You've heard me say that before.

   The anchor was telling us the last person to see the assasin was the
owner of the zapateria.  There were rumors concerning a black Hummer parked
in the street south of the mall.  Two shots were fired into the Hummer's
rear tire.  No one on that street had seen a thing out of the ordinary. 
Soon someone asked about the abandon wheelchair in the parking lot and that
led to the nuns.  They had been sitting very near where the fire crackers
went off.  The parking lot now became part of the crime scene so the news
people had to move.

   There were too many witnesses who escaped before the police arrived. 
Some of them were blocks away when they were apprehended; walking, their
cars left behind in the Mercado parking lot after the shooting.  After
their interrogation by the police back in the mall, they all went through
the gauntlat of press now congregating outside the mall.  Information over
flow was flooding the airwaves.

   I was pretty fucked up by now.  I had another shot of Jack on the table,
ready.  I looked at my watch.  It was almost noon.  Erin was sitting next
to me and so was Wanda.  I was getting horny.  I took a long drag off the
pipe.  Amanda was sitting on the end of the couch.  I wanted to watch Erin
and Amanda work on Wanda's tits while she sucked my cock.  And then I was
going to fuck them all.  Where was the mis-information ?

   Chapter Sixty

   They broke for a commercial.  I got up off the couch.  Amanda came to me
and hugged me again.  Wanda was getting up and asked if anyone needed
anything ?  Erin was almost crashed on the couch.  I followed Wanda into
the kitchen.

   "You okay with all this, Wanda.  Would you rather us leave ?" She had
her back to me then turned to face me.

   "Willy Tamarack, I have no idea what went down today.  All I know is an
old friend showed up to spend the day.  We watched T.V., mostly the news
because of the shoot out.  My husband was on a trip.  I'm an airline
pilot's wife.  It'd go over better if I was a blonde."

   I laughed and came to her.  We embraced.  Moments later I started to
clean out the frying pan; I was still hungry.  There were plenty of
condiments left, bacon, onions, peppers, cheese and my secret sauce...Taco
Bell medium.  I'd stocked Wanda's pantry quite well before "D" day.  I
brought the skillet to the cooktop.

   Amanda was yelling something.  I rushed to the front room.  Wanda
followed me.  All of us stared at the T.V.  The evening anchor had now
replaced the noon news anchor.  He was pictured in front of a photo of the
dead bodies.  "I have breaking news..."

   He went on to describe "Operation Trusted Source" as an attempt by the
D.E.A.  to bust a two ton shipment of marijuana to the United States from
Mexico.  The tip came from a long time undercover Mexican national who had
been working for the cartels since two thousand one.  The source was
briefly hidden from the cartels in the Camarillo mental institution in
California until he disappeared under strange circumstances late last year.

   I was in shock and sat down on the couch next to Erin, who was sitting
on the edge, now very alert.  The anchor changed the subject to Miguel
Passeo, who was believed assasinated today in the mall, and his connections
to the cartels.  It was confirmed now that the police have searched the
three large grocery delivery trucks parked behind the Mercado for
marijuana. There was no marijuana found.  And now the abandoned wheelchair
and the nuns.  Three D.E.A.  agents were first on the scene or maybe they
were there to bust the shipment ?  Regardless, Agent Wayne Montana, the man
in charge of Operation Trusted Source gave his life today as he was gunned
down by cartel gunmen.  There is some speculation that the "old man" may
have been a disguised agent possibly part of the operation.  More after
this commercial break.

   I fell back against the couch.  Erin turned and threw herself on me. 
Amanda was crawling down to this end of the couch.  Erin's mouth was very
close to my ear.  I could feel her breath as she spoke.  "They swallowed it
all, Willy.  Every word of it and then connected the dots.  We're in the
clear, honey."

   I whispered back, "It sure looks that way, for now.  Let's not celebrate
too much." I gave her a big hug.  Amanda was snuggled up next to us and
heard every word.  Here eyes were big and round.  She couldn't talk.  I
pushed them both away from me and sprang to my feet.

   Wanda looked at him in awe.  She was positive now Willy was the old man
who shot the drug guy...Was sure his wife and this young girl were the nuns
and had something to do with it along with Micky Rincon.  And now the T.V.
news was reporting about D.E.A.  operations and a dead agent and has a
whole profile on the dead drug guy and on and on.  Unfucking believable !

   I saw the look on Wanda's face.  I imagine it was the same look she had
when the Russian guy's place blew up; the last time she saw me, by the way.
I picked up my shot of Jack.  "Charge your glasses, ladies." Amanda grabbed
the bottle and filled both her and Erin's glass.  I got a glass for Wanda.

   "To agent Wayne Montana, who gave his life for his country fighting the
scourge of drugs, and Operation Trusted Agent." The "Hear...Hears" were
subdued, not the cheers they would have been if Agent Montana had lived.

   I was pretty drunk and real fucking stoned.  I crashed back on the
couch. The anchor was telling the whole story again with new video of the
crime scene.  The bodies were gone.  Erin was curled up against me.  Amanda
was still amped, bouncing up and down on the other end of the couch.

   Wanda looked across the room, "So Operation Trusted Agent is yours,
Willy ?"

   Amanda stopped bouncing and said, "We'd have to shoot you before we told
you, Wanda." Then started laughing.  So did I.  Erin was asleep.

   *****

   Trina's call came earlier than he expected and Carlos' limo driver
rushed to pick her up.  He called the boss and was told to bring her
directly to the dock and that's just what he did.  The boss' girl friend,
usually quite friendly when he drove her, didn't say a word other than "hi"
and "thanks" today.

   Carlos was there, waiting in the boat for them.  The woman walked to the
boat while the boss came toward the limo.  He told the driver to head back
into town.  Told him to take the rest of the week off.  That was the only
thing the driver remembered about the entire day.  Getting some time off !

   Carlos told her to remain silent when he got aboard.  They left the dock
and were half way to the Hacienda before Carlos pulled Trina down close to
him.  He was whispering, concerned about her connection to the disk. 
They'd soon find the disk was bullshit and he didn't want Trina connected
to that at all.  For the fifth or sixth time she'd assured him that she
hadn't touched the disk.  Carlos had touched it on the edges when he copied
it.  But he wiped that all down and the envelope before he gave it to her.

   They were coasting toward the dock at the Hacienda as Carlos had cut the
engine.  Trina grabbed his arm, "Tamarack did this, didn't he ?"

   "What makes you say that ?"

   "The owner of the zapateria said he spoke native Spanish, from Mexico.
He said it during his live interview.  They cut it out later but it was in
the live version.  Willy speaks native Spanish."

   "Yea, he does.  But forget the rest, especially the disk, Trina.  You
hid yourself from the security cameras, right ?  This is serious now that a
federal agent got smoked."

   "Forgotten, darling.  And I was leaning well over the desk, grabbing a
sheaf of papers.  No way."

   "Good." They were climbing the stairs behind the bar.  Carlos, for the
first time, wondered where Tamarack was ?

   Snake and Casey were behind the bar when Carlos and Trina entered
Snake's office.  The big screen was muted.  The breaking news banner was
running the same shit it had been running for half an hour.  One channel,
attempting to get information on a breakout at the Camarrilo Mental
Hospital, found that all the employees who were working that evening last
December had been let go or moved on to other jobs.  The station was trying
to track some of them down.  The mental institution claimed that there
hadn't been a break out.  It was a drill.

   "Carlos, my friend, welcome back and with the lovely Trina." Snake had
had more than a couple.  Casey still had the lap top open on the desk. 
Trina wandered over and started reading.  It appeared to be a D.E.A.  after
action press release.

   "My god !  They reported damn near all of it.  Carlos, did you..."

   Casey started laughing as he headed toward the desk.  "Sorry, Trina
baby. None of us here have the stones to try something like this.  This is
a once in a century scam.  Can you think of one better, Snake ?"

   Snake was drinking another Jack on the rocks.  "No and that's what
scares me.  This is going be a lot bigger than I ever imagined.  Carlos, I
want you to go out tonight and look around.  Sorry Trina.  Casey, I want
you to stay out here.  Get on the internet and keep our eyes and ears open.
Make sure Collen goes to the office tomorrow."

   The satellite phone rang.  Casey looked over at Snake, who nodded his
head.  Casey keyed in the code and answered the phone.  He held it out for
Snake.  Snake rushed across the room.

   "Yea." He listened.  "Thanks." Snake handed the phone back to Casey
behind the desk.

   "That was Micky.  He just arrived at the beach.  Thinks he's clean. 
Said the old man will probably call in a while and ask about him.  Another
thing, Carlos, stay away from our police friends, they'll have their hands
full for a while.  That fucking Tamarack predicted this...Just fucking
amazing !"

   *****

   Micky Rincon had just left Yachtsman's boat.  He grabbed his cell phone
and dialed up Ashley.  When she answered he told her, "I'm going to fuck
the first naked woman I see when I get home.  I'm on P.C.H.  right now,
darling." He hung up.

   Ashley threw the phone on the bed and started getting out of her
clothes. The girls were shopping at the mall.  She was home alone and was
going to get fucked.  She rushed downstairs, naked.  Her nipples were erect
and she could feel herself getting damp between her legs.

   The garage door was coming up.  She opened the door to the garage and
stood in the doorway, legs spread, hands on top of her head, wiggling her
hips back and forth.

   [continued in]

   "The Chronicles of Willy Tamarack"

   Part Twenty-one
   "Aftermath"