Gwenny June
Chapter 17 – One Good Home Invasion Deserves Another
When Gwen got home and walked into the kitchen she found Jinny and Roger sitting at the counter, which was covered with paper of varying sizes and shapes. She saw maps and aerial photos and scribbles on scratch pads and computer printouts. In the center of the mess was a donut box and two coffee cups. She walked over and opened the box. Inside were two donuts, and it was a dozen box. Gwen looked at Jinny and then at Roger. Roger pantomimed a closed mouth, meaning he had not eaten any. Jinny smiled and said, “They help me think.”
“You ate ten donuts?”
Jinny smiled again, and went back to looking at an aerial photo of Charleston harbor. Gwen didn’t give Jinny the shit he deserved for this because she had learned that Jinny was a very good thinker. He had proven that during the Hermitage caper, and that was why Gwen had assigned him this job of tactical planning. Still, the idea of eating ten donuts made her queasy, and she wondered how he managed to eat like that and keep his five foot four, 200-pound body the way it was. The Secret Service could plant his feet in concrete in front of the White House and use him as a bollard to thwart a terrorist tank attack.
A lot of people in Charleston know where Stirg lives. He doesn’t own one of the magnificent, 200 year old mansions on Meeting St., or one of the beautiful houses on The Battery. He lives in what now is a new, very nice house, sitting over the water at the end of a long concrete dock. This structure used to be an ugly, concrete cube, built by the Navy in the 1950s, and used for many years as a degaussing station. Degaussing has something to do with radar. The Navy left it fifteen years ago and gave it to the City, sat on it for ten years, not knowing what to do with it. Then, five years ago, the City put it on the market, and Stirg bought it for a million and a half. It was worth that amount because of the concrete, deep-water dock, a half-acre at the shore end of the dock, and, of course, a magnificent view of Charleston harbor. Two years later the concrete cube had been transformed into a modern, 7000 square foot, three story house. The dock was reconditioned, and a modest 2000 square foot guest house sat on the shore-end half acre.
Roger, Jinny, and Gwen looked at a high-resolution aerial orthophoto quad of the harbor. Stirg’s place was clear and with enough detail to make out his dark blue BMW at the end of the dock. Gwen asked Roger if he had told Jinny the story about one of their friends meeting Stirg there. He shook his head, no.
“It took Stirg two years to remodel that place. About halfway through the construction, a friend of ours got invited to visit the site. He was friends with the contractor. While he was there getting shown around, Stirg shows up for an inspection. Stirg was friendly. Our friend says to him, ‘You have an incredible site here, and the house will be great. But no place for a pool.’ Stirg said, ‘Don’t worry. See the long dock extending out into the water past the house? When we’re done, I’ll bring my boat out and park it at the end. It’s got a pool on it, with three meter diving board.'” Jinny smiled.
Guignard arrived and joined the planning session. Gwen said, “Today, we need tactical. The HOW to go in there. Tomorrow morning, when the rest of the team comes for breakfast, we’ll discuss strategy: the WHY. Tomorrow we’ll form our objectives. How are we getting in, Jinny, and who’s on that team?”
He said, “First, we gotta make sure he’s gonna be there on some date and at some time. That’s pretty easy. Second, we do this during the day, not at night like he did. We run a big boat up to the end of his dock. He’s gonna have lots of signs saying No Trespass, Keep Out, like that. And cameras. That don’t matter, ‘cause the boat is gonna be all women. All our women. Gwen, Slev, Guignard, Helstof. You’re gonna be in bikinis. Maybe we stick some of Peter’s and Pater’s ballerinas in bikinis too, and use them. The more girls, the better.” This was a joke, and he waited for a response. There wasn’t one, so he went on, “Ok. The women act dumb about the signs and the cameras. They make a scene and wait for someone in the house to come out. They pretend one of them is sick. If Stirg has security, they will come out. If he doesn’t, then he comes out.” Jinny looked at the other three, who remained non-committal. “Ok. When the people come out of the house, the girls cry their friend is sick and needs the ambulance.” In Russia, they still had ambulances, not EMS; ambulances like from WWII. “Security gets everyone to the house, you get inside, and you pull your pieces and stick them in people’s faces. Simple. The house is like 100 yards from shore. No one will notice.”
Gwen didn’t jump down Jinny’s throat. She waited for Guignard to do that. Guignard said, “You said we’re all wearing bikinis. Where exactly do you think we’re going to conceal our guns? And what’s this about acting dumb?” Jinny sat back and smiled. He liked his jokes. Guignard looked at Gwen and asked, “Can I trade him in? I’ll take anything you got in stock, old stuff, something from the attic, anything.”
Jinny looked at Roger for some support, who sat looking at the blue cats, wondering if they had better senses of humor than Jinny. But Jinny kept smiling, not caring if the others didn’t like his jokes. He liked them, and went on, “When the girls have everything under control in the house, Roger and I get out of the boat and come in. And we deal with Stirg.” Jinny felt done with his tactical planning, so he reached into the box for the eleventh donut, feeling he had earned it.
Roger, Guignard, and Gwen thought about his plan while they watched him eat, Guignard wiping some powdered sugar from the corner of his mouth. She was just joking about trading him in. She loved him. Roger said, “That all sounds risky? What if someone in the house sees the commotion on the dock and calls the cops?”
Jinny swallowed and said, “Yeah, it’s risky. You tell me a home invasion that’s not risky. Shit, we caught his ass doing a home invasion here, didn’t we? Besides, you don’t just look at risk. You look at reward, too. What do we get out of this, if it goes ok? I’ll tell you what. We get some serious fucking intimidation. He tried subterfuge. He tried stealth. We reply with a commando raid, six people with guns, middle of the day. Four babes showing gams. What’s not to like? Screw the risk.” And to emphasize his opinion he reached for the last donut.
Gwen sat back and looked at Jinny. She got up, went over to the cats sitting on the counter near the pantry, scratched first one and then the other on the tops of their heads, and got what she wanted: “Caooh!” She came back to the counter and looked at the aerial photo, which of course was just a ploy to give her a little more time to think. She looked at Roger. Then she looked at Guignard. Neither one said anything, which meant they had not thought of a serious objection. She looked over at Jinny and said, “Ok, bollard boy. You got yourself a basic plan. Now figure out the details. You’ve got three hours.”