The Black Book

  "Everyone, I'd like you to meet the Medicine Man." M said. "Just call him Enrico."

  "Hello all. I hope my assistant didn't disturb your conversation. I find that it helps to have him drive by whenever I have a meeting to attend to. If the law is nearby, they invariably bother him and not me. He's doing his doctoral thesis at Stanford on Stereotype Targeting by law enforcement. He loves it when the pull him over."

  "Hello M. How may I be of assistance?"

  "We need to disable a rather large force of men. I thought you might be able to help us out."

  "How long would you like them to be disabled?"

  "Oh. Say forty-eight hours."

  "Excellent! This should be an interesting challenge. How would you like to administer the drugs?"

  "Some by water, and some by air. I noticed that they have their own well in the compound. But, we also need something more direct, for those who aren't thirsty."

  "Might I suggest a skin agent? DMSO to carry the drug into the system, bonded to a sticky resin?"

  "That sounds good. What kind of drug can you whip up for us that will carry on those vectors?"

  "Probably an alkaloid. Perhaps some Jimson Weed, Datura stramonium, unfortunately, the effective dose is very close to the amount that will cause an overdose. We'll have to add some Lysergic Acid, but that doesn’t pose a problem."

  Meyer looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I can't believe I'm listening to this conversation."

  "It's a simple choice Meyer" M said. "We can either go in with guns blazing, or we can try something less damaging. Hell, the department of defense is trying the same kind of thing. Good thing too. Enrico only had to come from Dougway. He's working on a DOD contract there."

  "Enrico, this is Doc. Aside from being my brother, he's totally reliable. Use him as your point of contact. If you can follow the map, he'll be in that salvaged trailer you see outside. We need to move it in behind the compound. There's an old mine road that comes in from the north with a small mountain in between. It will put you above and behind them on the slope of a hill. The cover is good, but watch yourselves, the guards are armed and they play rough. How much time do you think you'll need?"

  "Probably three or four hours to locate what I'll need in town. After that, the timing will be up to you. I'll just leave you my wares, and slip off back to the barracks."

  "I'll need at least one night to get my stuff into place." Doc said. "After that, every extra minute is gravy."

  "Ok. Doc, you better get going now. There's a map in this package. Tonight, you'll meet up with Will D. He'll find you. Enrico, get whatever you need, mix up your magic, and drop it off with Doc this evening."

  "There is the small matter of money M."

  "I haven't forgotten Medicine Man. Here's twenty-five grand and a map for you. You can pick up the balance when you deliver."

  "Always a pleasure M." And with that, he was gone.

  "Doc, we'll be up to see you tomorrow morning. Do you have everything you need?"

  "I think so. No, wait a minute. I need power. I've got generators, but I can't run them that close, they make too much noise."

  "There's a transmission line that cuts through to the north of the compound. You'll have to step the voltage down from 7,200. And please don't get buck fever tonight. Remember that Will D. will be meeting you after dark."

  "No sweat, I can steal a transformer on the way out of town. Don't let him talk you into anything Angel."

  "Not a chance."

  Five minutes later, the parking lot looked normal again. Across the lawn, they could see the Sheriff's car with lights flashing. It was pulled up behind the Volkswagen bus. The doctoral candidate was spread eagle against the side. He smiled as a dark blue Mercedes glided by.

  "Anyone for a swim in the lake?" Angel asked.

  "Perhaps not a swim dear, but I do have several papers I've been hoping to read. I'll join you at lakeside. Traveling around with M isn't conducive to study."

  "You two go ahead. I've got some more markers to call in, then I think I'll take a nap."

  Instead of the nap, M spent the afternoon at Jiffy Print, and hiring cub-scouts to hand out map flyers. It was good to have a crowd to work with, but they were in the wrong place.

  *****

  "Governor, we need some help." Mayor Tallmadge said. "We got hippies and queers all over the place. If that isn’t bad enough, I got some idiots trying to homestead in the middle of the City Park, and some fool just took a power transformer from the city building."

  "Well hell Lowell, what do you want me to do? I can send you some boys from the State Patrol."

  "State Patrol Hell! There are flyers all over town announcing a Grateful Dead concert tomorrow up Dry Gulch Canyon. I need crowd control damn it!"

  "Like I said, Lowell, what the hell do you want me to do?"

  "Call up the guard before someone gets hurt, that's what!"

  "You think those people are going to get hurt at a Grateful Dead concert?"

  "No you imbecile! Dry Gulch Canyon is where all them friggin Nazis are. I think we're about to have World War III."

  "Well shit! Why didn't you say so earlier? I'll have a company of guardsman there in the morning!"

  Chapter 12

  Doc moved the trailer slowly along the mining road in the canyon northwest of the compound. The road was pitted and rocky, with pine trees crowding in from both sides. He wasn't averse to using the truck to shoulder obstructions out of his way. Still, he had to stop twice to clear fallen trees from the path. The road took one final switchback and curled around the hillside. At the end of the road, he came to rest in a small saddle between two hills in an area that had been clear-cut for a power easement. He walked cautiously east until he could see the compound nestled between two hills below him.

  As he looked down from above the compound, he could see the main lodge. It was built from native logs. Surrounding the lodge was a log wall, hip high, with dirt filling the space between the walls. Where windows might have been, there were narrow vertical spaces with thick shutters alongside. They would not provide much of a view, but would be perfect protection if one were repelling a siege.

  Between the main lodge and where Doc stood, he could see the top of a dirt-covered bunker. Razor wire ran around the perimeter of the compound, running down the side of both hills, and ending at the fence along the main road. Off to his left, across a tailing dump was the open shaft of an old mine. It looked like it hadn't been mined for a hundred years or so. Probably a silver or gold mine that had run dry, or had never produced.

  He walked back to the trailer, and began to set up his gear. His next job would be to tap into the power lines, and setup his speakers and parabolic dishes along the hillsides. As he worked, he occasionally saw guards walking the perimeter below. He was careful not to make too much noise. As evening rolled around, things were still peaceful. They either didn't know he was there, or they didn't care. He decided that a cold meal in the back of the truck would be the best idea, followed by a little eavesdropping, and zeroing in his equipment.

  Enrico stopped by just before sundown and dropped of two plastic gas cans full of sorrow. Doc placed them safely downwind after the Mercedes idled away down the track. The less he had to do with that stuff, the better he felt.

  Being in the forest at night can be the most relaxing thing on earth, or it can be nerve racking. For Doc, it had always been a peaceful experience. He stretched a hammock across the back of the trailer and lay back, listening to the night sounds of the forest. He was just on the edge of a dream when his eyes bulged out.

  A hand had come from nowhere to settle snuggly across his mouth. The natural reaction was to shout or scream. He may have tried both, but neither one got past the hand.

  "Don't make noise. I'm Will D. You Doc?"

  "Shit man! You like to give me a heart attack! Don't do that!"

  "Sorry Doc. It's what I'm here to do. Do you think you might live?"


  "Not if you keep sneaking up on me."

  "Not to worry. M said you would have something from the Medicine Man for me to work with. Did he make it?"

  "Ya. That shit's over by the trees in front of the truck. The one with the duct tape is for their well. The other one is full of the sticky stuff."

  "Ok. It's ten thirty now, there's no rush. I'll take a look around, but I'm not going into the compound until about one in the morning. I should be back by three or four. No moon tonight, that's good."

  "When you get back, I need you to help me with that bomb over there. I want to set it right in front of the main lodge. Think we can get it down there and in place without being seen?"

  "Damn. I don't know. How much does it weigh?"

  "Don't worry about that, it's almost hollow. The whole thing probably doesn't weigh more than a hundred pounds."

  "No sweat. I'll wake you up in plenty of time." As he slipped quietly into the trees, Doc turned to watch him go. There was nothing to see not even a shadow. Doc made a mental note to wake up early. He didn't want his blood pressure skyrocketing again.

  Chapter 13

  Governor calls up National Guard

  Military Police Deploy

  By: Neil Owens

  Northern Idaho Sentinel

  June 3 - Members of the 401st Battalion were rushed to Hayden Lake this morning. Mayor Lowell Tallmadge said, "We've got to keep control of these crowds!"

  The 22nd company of the 401st Battalion is made up of citizen soldiers who have trained to be military policeman. They were originally scheduled to fly off to Louisiana for additional training later in the week. This deployment will now take the place of their normal two-week summer obligation.

  A spokesman for the Governor's office said "We were more than happy to honor Mayor Tallmadge’s request. These are our hometown boys. It makes sense to use them here whenever possible."

  Guard commander Capt. Noel Limerick said, "Well, it isn't the trip we hoped for, but we're happy to help out."

  The guardsmen will be camping out of town, but can be seen interacting with the crowds of visitors now in Hayden Lake.

  ã Copyright Northern Idaho Sentinel. All rights reserved.

  At nine in the morning, M pulled the Jeep to a halt beside the deuce-and-a-half. Doc poked his head out of the trailer and waved them up.

  Angel climbed the ladder on the back of the trailer. "Nice digs you've got here Doc."

  "Yup! We like them. Angel, this is Will D. Wild man and sneaky SOB."

  "Hi, Will. I'm pleased to meet you."

  "Angel is our medical staff."

  "Good. Your services are going to come in handy. Good morning M. This must be Meyer."

  "That it is. What do you have for us Will?"

  "I snooped around most of last night. They run three pair of guards, one on the front gate, one on the bunker, and one wandering the perimeter. There are about a dozen other men and a few women in the compound. There are no children. The main lodge is pretty much impossible to assault. Half way between here and there is a buried bunker where I think they may be holding your man. I can't think of any other reason to put a guard on it."

  "Good. How did your other preparations go?"

  "I spiked the well just before daybreak. Doorknobs, car and truck doors, and generally anything they might touch were covered with the sticky stuff. Doc has his bomb out in front of the main lodge, and I put hornet bait from those wasp motels in all the open windows."

  "Nice touch. I never even thought about bugs."

  "Thanks. We do have one problem though. The Medicine Man couldn't find any Jimson Weed. We ended up with a mixture of Acid, and Sildenafil Citrate."

  Angel blushed and said, "Oh shit."

  "What's that?" M asked.

  "Viagra. The Medicine Man wasn't sure how it would work out. He just said 'Make Love, not War.'"

  "What's this about a bomb?"

  "That was my idea." Doc said. "Do you remember that sleep machine I made when I was a kid? Well, this one works even better. When the sun came up, and they saw that thing sitting in the front yard, the first thing they did was send someone out to see if it was still alive. When they get within about five feet of it, a proximity fuse starts a little smoke generator in the tail and it makes noise. It scares the hell out of them."

  "It should certainly make them nervous."

  "Nope, nervous is what they get when God talks to them. I have my speakers slaved into the computer so that I can talk directly to each of them without the others hearing. It's driving them crazy. The one named Berg has already been in two fights. Every time he turns around, someone calls him an asshole."

  "Will, have you got your chopper here?"

  "No, sorry, but it's in the shop. I made arrangements with a local crop duster though. I'll run the soup down to him as soon as the trucks get here."

  "Is it going to work?"

  "I think so. I already have the Ammonium Nitrate and the accelerator in and shaped. All we need now is the projectile material."

  "Oh shit. Look at this." Doc said, pointing to a television monitor. On the screen, two skinheads moved cautiously toward Doc's bomb. When they were within a few feet of the bomb, a tendril of smoke drifted up out of the tail. Both men stopped and looked at each other.

  "Move your ass!" Came a voice from the lodge. The men glanced back in that direction then eased forward toward the bomb. There was a bright flash of blue light from the bomb, and both men fell silently to the ground.

  "They’re out for the count." Doc said.

  "Are you sure they aren't dead?" Angel asked.

  "Not unless one of them had a heart attack."

  "What was the flash of light?" Meyer asked.

  "That was what we call in the trade 'A large flash of light'." Doc smiled. "It was nothing more than a little flash powder going up. There are six of them, hooked in series through a flash bar for a camera. When one goes off, it burns up its contacts and the next one is ready to go."

  They looked down at the monitor. The two skinheads were remarkably still. No more sounds came from the lodge.

  "How long will they be out?" M asked.

  "Should be about four hours I think." Doc said. "I made some portable units for your truckers. They work on a Mercury switch, so each time they try to sit up, they'll get put back under."

  "Truckers?" Meyer asked.

  "Yup. The best friend a man could ever ask for. The ones I arranged for will be here sometime after dark. Will. I think I hear your trucks coming now."

  Two trucks ground around the hillside. The first was a concrete pumping rig. Following that was a semi.

  "Oh God! What is that smell?" Angel asked, covering her face with her hands.

  "Pig shit." Will said.

  Doc looked worried. "Don't heave in here darlin."

  Will went out to direct the trucks toward the old mineshaft.

  Chapter 14

  People drifted into the meadow throughout the afternoon. By six o'clock, when the 22nd of the 401st arrived, several hundred of them were sitting peacefully in the grass by the road, waiting for a concert to happen. Captain Limerick gave them a sorrowful look and turned to Mayor Tallmadge, who was riding in the back of his Humvee.

  "Shit! We're not even deployed, and we have a crowd."

  "What the hell did you expect? You can't do crowd control without a crowd."

  "What I expected was time to deploy. These things take time you know."

  "Well," the mayor said, "just pretend they aren't there until you have your people set up. And remember, no violence! I don't want a Kent State fiasco here. I have to run for office again this fall."

  "Don't worry about that. We don't have any bullets."

  "What!?"

  "Just what I said. We don't carry ammunition for domestic disturbances."

  "Then what the hell are you doing with the rifles?"

  "It's real simple. When we
go to camp each year, we issue every man his weapon. He's responsible for it until we check them back in at the armory. We can't just leave them lying around, and we don't have an armory here to check them into. So, we carry them. Now let me get this thing organized."

  When he wasn't a commanding officer, Limerick was a manager in the shoe department at K-Mart. His college degree, liberal arts, with an emphasis on modern poetry, qualified him as officer material when he enlisted. But, it was his obsession with keeping shoeboxes perfectly stacked in orderly rows that he found most useful in the guard.

  "Let's dismount men! I want to see a neat formation. Gunnery Sergeant, fall these people in."

  The crowd smiled, and looked on in placid amazement as the two hundred guardsmen ambled into position. Most of the crowd was much more interested in the clear blue of the sky, or the fifteen discernable shades of green vibrating in the small valley. Several of the young women had stripped off their clothing to take in the sun. These were of particular interest to the guardsmen; much more interesting than standing in a line. Topless girls beat platoon sergeants every time. Most of the men were staring at the sunbathers when the crop duster flew over trailing a sticky fog.