Читать книгу The Doctrine of Presence - Benjamin Vance - Страница 6

Simple assent has never been my strong suit, but the five of us agreed to meet at the local Marriott Hotel’s restaurant, to hash out our initial approach to the problem of doing something, likely illegal, and not getting caught. I was surprised to be the only one initially worried about the illegality of what we were planning. Too late, others worried as well. Everyone except Leo provided many recommendations, improvements on strategies and realistic solutions to logistics problems; drawing from their own particular expertise. The only time we heard from Leo was when we voted on an item; all concurred on a movement, or we needed a tie-breaker to settle a dispute. Leo was stoic, but he was neither stupid … nor ignorant. During one discussion on being without power in remote locations, four of us agreed to take extra power cells and batteries for our satellite telephone and cell-phones. It would be an essential contingency. Leo disagreed.

He actually recommended a better solution which involved an entrepreneurial company which made small, portable wind and solar powered units for remote command post use. He and some friends used a unit at an undisclosed location in the Middle East. The combined weight was around thirty-five pounds and it was soldier-proof, and silent. It made good sense, so we eventually procured one, then three. They turned out to be one of our better investments.

Fourth-generation night vision scopes and rifle sites were other essentials which severely drained our funds. We talked our way around the purchase of rifle scopes several times. It ended up being one of our biggest headaches, but in the end we all admitted the need for non-IR capable night vision. They cost a bundle, but it seemed we were in for the full ride. Stealth was the final and most essential consideration. The documentation of illicit actions by cinematographers was our primary goal, but one doesn’t voluntarily enter into such situations without proper defensive weapons, if for no other reason than to deter retribution.

Everyone except Leo agreed that we needed silencers for our weapons. It was Leo’s argument that silencers reduced the speed and accuracy of the projectile. Greenie disagreed. He said, “Gentlemen, I can make, and have made for the Nevada Highway Patrol, silencers that reduce the muzzle velocity less than a hundred feet per second, and do not reduce the accuracy at all when one considers the normal variability of bullet drift. I can have five more made in less than a week, as long as they’re for .223 or 5.56mm.”

Leo looked down and shook his head; I agreed and stressed we needed something with a tad more range and less normal bullet drift. Greenie finally agreed he would attempt to rig a silencer for a .308 weapon. Then Leo asked for a silencer to fit a model 700 Remington in .338 Lapua. Greenie said, “I’ll try, Leo, I’ll try. There should be one already available for the Remington since it’s essentially a police model. Why did you buy a Remington?”

Leo quietly said, “I like shiny bolts and beautiful walnut stocks.” He waved his hand gently through the air to outline and emphasize, then continued, “They have curves like a beautiful woman.”

Greenie beamed at Leo and said, “So do I, Leo, so do I; I mean that I like bolts and walnut … shit. We may have to buy a silencer, reverse engineer it and make it better, but we’ll see.”

No nefarious arguments ensued, just piles and piles of notes and lists of things to consider for an excursion beyond the grid. There were different lists for varying durations and changing venues; if cold, this and if hot, that. You get the drift. The major constraint was cash … seems like it always was. When we tallied it up, we were looking at over $25,000 in equipment and supplies for the first trip, whenever or wherever it was to be. That sum did not include gas for my Jeep and Gimp’s specially equipped four-wheel drive monster SUV.

We just looked at each other and at the walls when I announced the cost of our little brain storm could turn out to be a cash-sucking tornado. I thought the operation would fall apart right then and there, until Fredo said, “I can talk to my uncle in Mexico. Maybe he can … maybe, give us something. He’s a rich sum’bitch. I’ll ask him and let chew guys know.”

I assumed the chances of Fredo’s uncle coming through were slim to none, but it seemed to give everyone encouragement, so I didn’t say anything negative. We verbally confirmed that each of us would put in two thousand; at least everyone except Leo, who just nodded his head and looked pensive. We would still need at least fifteen thousand dollars from somewhere else. Yeah, we all should have had more than two thousand dollars saved and probably did, but when one is as old as most of us were, it is very hard to admit a life of meager saving has amounted to just a few thousand dollars. No one asked any more questions about the subject and we adjourned at 9:00 p.m.; just a few hours after we began the most challenging planning and soul-searching period of … most of our lives.