Book Four - Part 8 - Rhyming Evil - Chapter Fifty-Five

1224 Clearfield Street – 12:30 p.m.

Lee found a nice duplex and had it partially furnished. One bed, one chair, one table, one computer and several notebooks.

His Uncle Jack and Aunt Peggy tried to talk him out of moving, but Lee simply explained that after what happened, he would need some time alone, but that he would come back and visit often.

Two days ago, he had a satellite connection and immediately started the track down the elusive Frederick Uri Kristen.

Lee not only found him elusive, but extremely dangerous. Freddy was never in a country very long. Switches identities often. Though not proven; only because he has never been caught, he is suspected of at least seventy-six murders, two of those being Ricky and Carol Anne. Of the seventy-six, twenty-eight were sanctioned kills for pay. The rest were personal. The man was a psychopath that needed to be stopped.

With his training and background, and a few contacts in the states; he believed he could be put on the right track to get Freddy before Freddy even knew he was got.

His doorbell rang.

Walking to the door, he looked out from behind a window shade and saw a UPS truck. Opening the door, the delivery driver asked, “Sir, are you Lee Austin?”

“Yes.”

“Sign here, please. You have a total of six boxes. I still have to get the remaining three for you.”

Lee took the electronic pen, signed a plastic cover and immediately, a receipt printed out.

In that short amount of time, the delivery driver was back with the remaining three boxes. he grabbed his electronic box and said, “Those last three are really heavy. You building something?”

Lee grinned.

“You could say that.”

When the driver left and was out of sight, Lee either picked up, or swung each box into the living room. five boxes and one crate. On time.

The first box he opened had a set of luggage inside. Each one lead-lined to prevent x-ray scanning in airports to see beyond any clothes inside. There was also a silver metallic briefcase, also lead-lined, which would prevent airport security from seeing anything beyond notebooks, pads, pens, folders, a calculator, and perhaps an iPod and sunglasses.

In another box were six handguns and two cases of hand grenades. Two Colt .44’s, another Colt 1911 semi-automatic, a Styler 9mm semi-automatic (lightweight and never jams), a Desert Eagle .50 Caliber, and a .32 caliber hideaway for his ankle.

In the crate, stacked on top of each other, or three stainless steel trunks, about a foot taller and wider than most. they too were lead-lined. Just like the suitcases and briefcase, the sides, top and bottom panels were easily removed to keep things hidden you didn't want seen.

In the remaining boxes you would find about 10,000 rounds of ammunition for each specific weapon he had. There were also smoke bombs, gas masks, flak-jackets, night-vision goggles and two other weapons. An AR-15 that fires 5.56 rounds and the AK-47 which fires 7.62 rounds; each per second, both can do extensive damage to a human body. there were also twenty, twenty-round clips for each, as well as ten, fifty-round clips. Finally, there was the short-barrel .30-30 shotgun.

Always good to have friends in high places.

Weapons wise, Lee felt he had all he would need, besides his own Bowie knife. How odd would fate be, Lee thought, if he and Freddy came down to Bowie knives, and Freddy lost. Lee wouldn't let it get that close. With all the firepower he possessed, there would be no way Freddy would escape him once he found him.

And find him, he would.

Baker's Office – 2:45 p.m.

“This whole thing has been a mess from start to finish.”

Satchell and Dianne sat around her desk.

“How, Baker? You Did all you could from the beginning. The chain of events what as they were supposed to,” said Satchell.

“Plus,” said Dianne\, “we did somehow manage to save two lives.”

“We didn't save anyone. We were lucky. But we could have saved Lydia. We had that chance, but I blew it. I overlooked—no, I purposely struck down several possibilities because of a man's record and personal situation.

“Freddy said it in the fax. Braveheart’s fair maiden. You and I were at their house, Dianne; and we just let her go.”

“You couldn’t have known,” said Satchell. “Hell, a boy in a wheelchair? A lush for a mother? And a cop with an impeccable record? No one would have thought of looking their way.”

Dianne stood.

“At least part of this is over, The rest will be up to Jimmy and Blake.”

“And that is where it begins, too. Time is the only answer between them and how they deal with each other after losing Lydia.”

Baker looked at Satchell.

“At Least time doesn't discriminate. It treats us all equally.” Looking over to Dianne, she said, “Go ahead and go home, Dianne. I'm going to finish this report and then I'm out of here.”

“See you two on Monday. Have a good weekend. Oh, and Baker? For what it's worth; you're a hell of a good cop.”

Just as her door closed behind Dianne, Baker looked across at Satchell.

“Calling it a day?”

“In a few minutes. I have a call or two to make and a package in my desk to give two a … friend. After which, I'll take a trip over the weekend to the Apple. Haven’t been there in a while. Think I'll just walk around, spend a little money on the nightlife.”

“I don't know about the nightlife, but I know it's going to feel good to be home with a couple of guys that know how to make me smile and laugh. And after all this; Lord knows, I need it.”

Satchell stood and headed out the door saying, “Take care, Baker. See you Monday.”

“You too, Satchell.”

“One other thing. Dianne is right. You are a hell of a cop.”