Ed and DeMario sat on a bench at DeMario’s backyard shooting range. A local paper sat on the bench
between them, open to page three with a photograph of a tow truck pulling a BMW M5 from a canal. The story
heading said “Two dead in Canal Crash”.
Ed sipped on a cup of coffee while DeMario prepped a semiautomatic pistol for firing. “The authorities
must think that something suspicious is going on, they will find that submachine gun. And what about the
brass scattered on the road from the shots that they fired?”
“Yes, all of that will come about.”
“What if someone saw your car?”
“I will have the bullet holes plugged and the body filler drying by tomorrow night. In two days
there will be no outwardly visible signs of the bullet holes. Also, the authorities know who I am.
I will be giving a copy of the files that you downloaded to some important people.”
DeMario turned to the guns on the table in front of them, “This H&K is one of my
favorites, accurate, powerful, and reliable. It is similar to what I used in the Navy. This Glock
is not quite as accurate, but still is powerful, and is tolerant of abuse. It is pretty reliable so long
as you use the right ammunition.”
“Which one would be the best for concealed carry?”
“Neither. You need something smaller. More importantly, you need training. That
training should include knowing how to fight with and without a gun, plus how to avoid situations where you
false sense of security, and thus get you into dangerous situations.” DeMario then handed Ed the Glock
with the Chamber open and proceeded to explain the workings of the gun before they began target practice.
The strange sense of distraction faded from Joe by midmorning as he worked in the winery getting ready for
the upcoming grape harvest. The strings and lines tied to his consciousness had become very faint and
were no longer drawing his attention from the tasks at hand. He was troubled about rudely stopping
Cathy’s participation in the trip to Juniper Lake, but the vision of twisted metal and the scent of
leaking automatic transmission fluid mingled with radiator coolant was overwhelming. He was also
troubled about not being able to stop the trip altogether. Could he actually prevent an accident when
none of the visible threads showed such a potential outcome? What would happen to Cathy’s friends?
Just then, the door opened and Elise walked in, ashen faced. “Teresa’s dad called.
There has been an accident.”
Joe stopped what he was doing and swiveled on his feet to squarely face Elise straight on. His senses
were running on overdrive, but his perceptions of strings of events remained very faded.
Elise continued, “They were run off the road by a logging truck who had lost his brakes. There
were injuries, but nobody has died, yet. The girls have minor to moderate injuries. Teresa has a
broken arm. Teresa’s mom was flown out by life flight and has not yet regained consciousness.
She has a sub dermal hematoma. How did you know?” Elise now appeared to be scared more than
anything else.
“There are some things that I need to tell you about my great grandfather. He left a ton of
secrets…..”
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