Operation Firecrcker

156.

Phase One. 

The four of us, Davis, Saunders, Drysdale and myself, enjoy a day and a half together in an efficient flow of high-priority activity. Between four hour meetings we enjoy Thai massage, golf and swim in the Olympic sized pool. Our meetings, the discussion on turning the operational outline into a pragmatic reality completed, we savor its success with a steak and lobster meal. I am due back in DC for the brief with TOM, Harlan and Julie so I decline their offer to extend the evening into excessive indulgence, politely thanking them for their attention and positive response.  They are, in the nautical vernacular, on-board. 

My meeting back in DC is equally efficient and robust, TOM suddenly infused with vigor and an energetic passion. I know Julie well enough to recognize the tells of a caged feline ready for the hunt. Harlan, a lawyer and used to doing his fighting in a task chair or in the occasional courtroom, also sends silent body language memos indicating that he is ready for the jump ball. The electricity in the small room reminds me that high-voltage cables need the anchor of the negative pole to function, without proper grounding deadly shock may result. 

“Like a laser,” I compare, “sharp, controlled and focused, not like the spray from a ten-gauge. Let’s keep in mind that with vigilant attention to detail, with everyone doing their part, this thing could end without us firing a single shot.” 

The energy drops like a cast iron frying pan into a sink of soapy suds. 

“And that is our goal,” I continue, “we must out-smart them, and considering the characteristics of the SOME of the people involved, that shouldn’t be a huge problem. However, let’s not underestimate the danger of the cornered animal. Both the Senator and Big have powerful resources that remain loyal to their cause.”

I can see that they want more so I slice up some red-meat and toss it into the cage, “That being said, there will undoubtedly come a point in our operation, as there always does, where we will have to trust our training and improvise. We want to land the big fish in the boat, not create a feeding frenzy for bottom dwellers.” 

“We launch the first two elements of Operation Firecracker,” at this TOM snorts in appreciation, “tomorrow. One is fire and two is smoke. Alpha will be setting up shop in Vegas tomorrow, TOM will request a lunch with the Senator and The Queen and I will finalize the wording and protocols of our official memorandum to the warden at ADX Florence. I will ask for both your approvals on the language prior to submission. If all goes according to Hoyle by this time Friday we’ll know if we have a poker game or if we’re playing solitaire.” 

“Julie and Harlan will lead the intel operations from here until we launch Phase Two, estimated time of one week. You are familiar with your assignments at that point.”

Knowing that everyone has scrutinized the mission outline to the point where it mimics the retaliatory tactics of the dystopian oppressed heroes in Fahrenheit 451, I close the session with the all too familiar, “Any questions?”

None. We are ready. To rock and roll. To light the fuse. With a fucking blowtorch.

Operation Firecracker, Phase One, is a go.