Frank sat in his office at the FBI Building and reviewed his paperwork, but his mind was somewhere else. He was nervous as was dictated by his leg shaking under his desk.
His cell phone rang, and he quickly picked up the receiver. "Yeah," he answered.
"We had them, but your stupid bitch of an agent thought our crotches were a kickball," Grant said from Frank's cell phone.
Frank wanted to scream while the news sunk in his head. "Damn her! Figures, she's pretty feisty," Frank said.
"I'm thinking they're heading to Las Vegas with our database," Grant replied.
"I'll have to come up with something to stop them," Frank said.
"Good and I'll also try to figure out a way to stop them," Grant replied.
"Call me later," Frank said.
"I will," replied Grant replied, then Frank disconnected his end of the call.
He got up and walked over to his office window.
He stared out and now regrets getting involved with Grant but knew there was no turning back.
His stomach got sour, so he walked back to his desk and opened up a drawer. He removed a bottle of Maalox and opened it up and took a huge gulp.
At an auto repair shop in San Francisco, Gino and Sal waited in the waiting area.
The mechanic walked into the area with four bananas in his hand.
"Here's your trouble," he said while he held up the bananas. "I found these shoved up your tailpipes. It must have been some kids."
"Shit!" Gino said a little too loud as an old lady a few seats overheard him and didn't appreciate his language.
"But there's also engine damage," the mechanic added.
They heard a car horn. Gino and Sal looked out the windows of the waiting area and saw Kirby and Grant in the Mercedes in the lot. They could see Kirby motion for them to get inside.
"Okay, fix it, and we'll be back in a few days," Gino said.
"You got it," the mechanic replied, then walked away. He threw the bananas into the trash then walked back into the garage.
Gino and Sal got up and walked out of the waiting area.
The old lady watched from inside the shop while Gino and Sal left the waiting area and got inside the Mercedes.
Kirby drove the Mercedes away.
"I think Taylor must have another acquaintance somewhere," Kirby said while he drove down the street.
"His wife is dead, so I don't know who that could be. So, after we stop him, we torture him to find the identity of his acquaintance and location so we can also eliminate that risk," Grant replied.
"Yeah! I like torture," Sal said from the backseat with a smirk.
Grant smiled over his comment. Then his cell phone rang. He opened up and looked troubled while he looked at the viewfinder. "Crap," he called out.
"What?" Kirby asked concerned.
"It's Chuck," Grant replied.
"Oh, joy. I can't wait," Kirby in a sarcastic tone.
"Yes, sir," Grant answered the call.
"I want status on this Taylor risk," Chuck said from Grant's cell phone.
In a suite in the La Tremoille hotel in Paris, Chuck stood by the bar with a drink of scotch in hand. He waited for a response.
"Well sir, we learned that Taylor was going to meet with an FBI agent, named Britney Cooper, at the Wax Museum by the Fisherman's Wharf," Grant replied from Chuck's cell phone.
"Good, you finally stopped him," Chuck replied with a smile.
There were a few seconds of silence. "Well, not exactly," Grant said in a lower tone.
Chuck's smile quickly disappeared, and he looked pissed. "What the fuck happened?" he asked.
"That FBI agent kinda got the best of us, and they were able to escape," Grant replied.
Chuck looked furious. "Tell me how two former CIA operatives, are letting an average Joe, get the best of them? Please tell me, as I'm having a hard time understanding it," he yelled into his cell phone.
"The FBI Agent surprised us with some karate crap," Grant replied.
"Do you have enough brain cells to figure out where they're heading?" Chuck said while he tightened his grip in his glass
"Probably Vegas," Grant replied.
"Probably Vegas? You better make sure, or you'll be seeing your last days on this Earth. And I mean your last days will be forthcoming!" Chuck threatened. "We can't turn back now since I've received partial payment," he said then paused. "YOU BETTER FIND HIM!" he screamed into his cell phone then closed his cell phone and set it on the bar. He poured some more scotch to completely fill his glass. He gulped it down.
"What did he say?" Kirby asked while he turned down another street.
"What do you think?" Grant said and looked extremely worried.
Kirby thought for a few seconds then his eyes widened that he understood. "Yeah, I do want to live longer," he said and looked worried.
Grant pondered their dilemma for a few seconds. Then his eyes widened with the idea that followed with an evil smirk. "I think I know how we can slow them down," he said while he looked at Kirby with a grin.
"How?" Kirby said curiously.
"Just wait and see," Grant replied with an evil smirk while he quickly opened up his cell phone and made a call.
"Frank, it's me, Grant, listen, here's what I need you to do to stop your agent and our asshole," he said into his cell phone.
Kirby, Gino, and Sal all listened while Grant told his plan into his cell phone.
They soon smiled loving his plan.
Albert looked troubled while he drove north on Interstate 80 across the Bay Bridge.
Britney was in deep thought in the passenger seat.
"I just keep on getting deeper and deeper into trouble," Albert said with a worried look.
"What about me? I'm now an FBI agent on the run all of a sudden. I just hope we can stop this assassination, so we don't get killed," Britney replied with a worried look.
She thought for a few seconds. "Let's see what else is on this laptop," she said while she opened up the laptop.
Albert noticed her open the laptop. He looked nervous and silently prayed that the Heavenly Chat website wouldn't appear. "By the way, that laptop has some kind of virus. A strange program keeps popping up."
"I wish they would hang the bastards that send out those parasites and viruses," Britney replied to his lie. On the laptop, Britney opened up the Special Security Consultants Project database.
She navigated through it then stopped at some information.
Albert kept an eye on the laptop to see if the Heavenly Chat website appeared.
Britney's eyes widened when she saw something in the database. "It looks like the plot is financed by some Arabs and some executives from Worldwide Oil Corporation, American Oil, and Global Oil Corporation," Britney thought for a second. "That makes sense. With President Barrow wanting to get America off the oil dependency and put billions into research for alternative fuels and energy, certain oil companies and Arabs will lose billions in revenue," she added then her eyes widened again. "It wouldn't surprise me if the Vice President is also behind this," she said.
"Why?"
"Well, he comes from a rich Texan oil family," she said.
"That's a possibility," he said after a few seconds of thinking about her comment.
Britney frowned. "People are always being killed over the almighty dollar," she said while she continued to look at the database.
Albert looked relieved then looked curious. "Do you know someone in the Secret Service we can contact?"
"Not really," she said, then her eyes widened when she saw something of interest in the database. "It looks like we only have around three or four days to save his life," she said then looked worried.
Albert wondered how they would stop this assassination once they got into Las Vegas. He was also afraid of the Heavenly Chat website appearing then Britney would consider him a fruitcake.
He glanced over at her. He started to have feelings for her but then felt guilty when he thought about Ginger.
Back in the UAS branch office in San Francisco, Kirby and Grant drank more scotch while they watched Gino and Sal pack an MGM security uniform into their suitcases.
"We're ready," Sal said while he closed his suitcase.
"Go pick up our special guest and get him ready for his assignment," Kirby said.
"Yes, boss," said Gino.
"We'll be on the lookout for Taylor and that FBI chick if they make it to Vegas," Sal said while he closed his suitcase.
"Take them to a secure place and eliminate our risk," Kirby said.
"Yes sir," Gino said then he grabbed his suitcase and nodded at Sal who grabbed his suitcase.
Kirby and Grant walked Gino and Sal out of the office.
An hour later at the Half Moon Bay airport, Kirby and Grant stood on the tarmac and watched while the Cessna Citation Mustang jet took off from runway 30.
Once the jet turned and headed toward the northeast, they walked over to their Mercedes.
Grant's cell phone rang. He opened it up and looked at the viewfinder. "What do you have?" he answered the call.
"The media should be broadcasting the news any minute, and that should make it difficult for those two to move around Vegas," Frank replied from Grant's cell phone.
"Great. Thanks, Frank and let me know immediately if they're found," Grant replied, then closed his cell phone.
"You got it," Frank replied, then disconnected his end of the call.
"The media will be broadcasting our news soon," he told Kirby while he shoved his cell phone into his pants pocket.
"Super," Kirby replied while they got inside the Mercedes.
Kirby started the Mercedes, and he drove away.
They headed north on the Pacific Coast highway to go back to their San Francisco office to wait for any news on Albert or Britney.
In the main room of a suite in the La Tremoille hotel in Paris, Chuck sat on the couch while he drank another scotch on the rocks. He listened to Grant on his cell phone while he provided a status report.
"It's about time you bozos used your heads," he said then took a sip of scotch.
"Thank you, sir. I'll keep you informed of any news," Grant replied.
"You better," Chuck replied, then closed his cell phone but still looked worried.
Peter Sargent entered the room with a scotch on the rocks and noticed Chuck's concerned look.
"Something wrong?" Peter asked.
"No, I think I got a little heartburn," Chuck replied.
"Good, I thought there was a hiccup with our plan," Peter replied.
"Oh no, everything's locking into place," Chuck said.
"Great. I'll be heading back to Dallas tomorrow to join Harry, and then I'll make sure that the Vice President is briefed. We'll put the rest of our money into your account after the news confirms he dead," Peter said then gulped down his scotch. "I better get going. I have an early flight," Peter said then got up and shook hands with Chuck.
"This will be the last time we meet," Chuck said.
"Agree," Peter said then walked to the door.
Chuck watched him leave.
Then he went to his room bar and filled up his glass with scotch. He walked back to the couch and sat down. His stomach got nervous as it always did during these high profile assassinations. He took a massive gulp of scotch. Chuck doesn't drink this much, but this is a special occasion, and his nerves needed constant smoothing.
It was later that day and northwest of Las Vegas were located the Desert Rock airstrip just off State Road (SR) 95. The airstrip had a hangar, and the flight line was deserted of any aircraft.
But the hangar was locked and inside was a black Bell Huey helicopter, without any markings, that was staged by UAS a few weeks ago.
It will whisk away the assassin to a secure cabin in the mountains in California to hide out for a few months after the hit.
The Cessna Citation Mustang jet landed on the runway of the deserted airstrip where a black Chevy Suburban with dark tinted windows waited on the tarmac.
The Cessna taxied over and stopped near the Suburban. The engines whined down then the door opened, and a man in a black suit walked down the stairs.
He waited by the jet.
Abdul Shia-Agil cautiously walked down the stairs of the jet in his suit. He felt like he was back at home when he saw he was in the middle of the desert.
The doors of the Suburban opened, and two other UAS thugs in black suits got out and rushed over to the Cessna. They greeted Abdul then escorted him over to the Suburban and put him inside.
Gino and Sal walked down the stairs of the Cessna with their suitcases.
They rushed over to the Suburban and got inside.
The Suburban drove away.
The Cessna started its engines and soon taxied back to the runway.
While the Suburban drove away down the dirt road to SR 95, the Cessna took off for its return trip back to the Half Moon Bay airport outside San Francisco.