“Black Hawk?” Whitaker repeated. “You’re going to land a fucking Black Hawk here?” He sounded excited by the idea of it.
“Yes, and the highly trained personnel who’ll come with it won’t hesitate to eliminate the terrorist threat your group poses,” Burke told him.
“Terrorists? You’ve got this all wrong. We’re patriots, defending the U.S. of A, stars and stripes, Uncle Sam, and our way of life, man,” Whitaker said.
Burke rolled his eyes. This kid had played one too many Call of Duty video games. “Then we’re on the same team, and you better start talking,” Burke said.
“You’re with the military, special forces or military intelligence, I’d guess. How’d you track down the M-4s? I assume that’s why you’re here.” Whitaker said.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re taking them back. Now how many of your group are on their way?”
“Dunno, Passaglia will put the call out to everyone in the area, maybe ten?”
Burke didn’t want to have to deal with that many wanna-be militia members. “Give me everything you know about this Passaglia: full name, date of birth, address.” His line was open, and he knew Dupont would run him to ground.
“Guy Passaglia, lives here in Shawano on South Union Street. I don’t know the house number. And I don’t know his date of birth. He’s old, like in his forties.”
Burke put Whitaker’s phone in his face again to unlock it. He brought up the contact and read the phone number aloud.
“Got it,” Dupont said.
“What were you doing in the van?” Burke asked him.
“Waiting to see if anyone came back and I was waiting for a buddy to come help me change my tire,” Whitaker said. He nodded to Tessman. “You’re a hell of a shot, man, got my tire with only a few rounds fired.”
“Were the men at the backdoor to the warehouse with you?” Burke asked.
“Yeah, we got word from another general that there was unauthorized activity in the warehouse,” Whitaker said. “He wanted us to check it out.”
“Okay, Hound dog’s in,” Tessman announced.
“Do you know the names Ellison or Ramsey?” Burke asked Whitaker.
“Yeah, Ellison is the top general out of the Minnesota command. You’d have to ask Passaglia, but I think he’s the one who told him to have us check out this warehouse. And Ramsey isn’t really one of us. He’s on what Passaglia calls the fringe. When the civil war comes, he’ll take up arms, but he’s not a dedicated member right now, just someone who’s smart enough to be a prepper.”
“I have an idea,” Burke said. “What do you think if we use Whitaker’s phone to give this Passaglia a call and let him know the game’s over?”
The sounds of the other men laughing came through comms. Tessman had a grin on his face, too. “Do it,” Jackson said. “Declare yourself a captain in the U.S. Army while you’re at it.”
“Captain, nothing. I work for a living,” Burke said sarcastically. “Ooh-rah!” he sounded off. He hit dial on Whitaker’s phone.
“Whatcha got, Roman?” a man’s voice answered.
“Roman’s got his hands secured behind his back,” Burke said into the phone. “Guy Passaglia, who resides on South Union Street, this is Burke, U.S.M.C., of JSOC, that’s the Joint Special Operations Command of the United States of America. We’re in control of this warehouse and the stolen military arms you have stockpiled here. We’re aware you’re on your way to this location. Do yourself a favor and stand down. Call off any othergroup members you may have en route. If you converge on this location, you will be fired upon. We outman and out-gun you, and we will not hesitate to neutralize any threats.”
The line went dead.
“The fucker hung up on me,” Burke said. He hit redial. The call went straight to voicemail. “Guy Passaglia, you won’t see us, but we’re here. Keep your people alive. Stand down.”
He waited. Three minutes later, three pickup trucks, grouped tightly together, drove past the warehouse.
“I think your boys just cruised by,” Burke said to Whitaker.
“Yeah, that was them,” he admitted. “Passaglia isn’t stupid, and he doesn’t have a death wish. He’ll stand down.”
“I’m sure he’ll be someplace nearby, watching the Black Hawk land,” Burke said. “Circles, make sure the incoming bird is advised there are unfriendlies in the area.”
“Roger that,” Dupont answered. “Big Bear is also talking with Whiting. The FBI will take the lead on the mess you have there. He’s got more than forty agents en route, but it will be a couple of hours before they arrive.”
