Two Types of Justice by Buck Ramsey

Author:Buck Ramsey [Ramsey, Buck]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The Party

Brentwood Ranch in West Los Angeles

Saturday | June 24, 2017 | 3:08 p.m.

The timing of Fred’s party happened to coincide with a Dodgers home game. Thus, nearly all his guests used that conflict with their wives and girlfriends as their excuse for their Saturday night absence. For those few women who knew their other half had no interest in baseball, the men explained that their poker night had been changed.

Four hours before Fred’s 7:00 p.m. party, Matt reported to Dan’s Brentwood Ranch rental for a briefing on his state-of-the-art spy paraphernalia. Dan and Matt presumed that Fred’s security personnel would relieve all the guests of their cell phones.

Matt first received a thick writing pen with a ten-hour audible recording life that he slipped into the front pocket of his white dress shirt. Next, his dress shoes were replaced with a scuffed pair of walking shoes. The left shoe held a removable thin-handled knife, which was hidden between the shoe’s tread and insole. If his cell phone wasn’t confiscated, it was reprogrammed to record and transmit live comments simply by tapping its on-off button.

Dan next explained his two backup communications options. “Here’s your text reader. Paul took two readers from Fred’s spy center and added channel eleven for our two readers. All of Fred’s other readers only have ten channels. Quite a few were broken, and others couldn’t take a charge. He won’t miss these two. Leave this reader in your car when you first enter the house. After Fred’s given you a reader, take your time before you excuse yourself. Say you left something in your car and—”

“I’ll shitcan Fred’s reader on my way to my car and return to the house with this eleven-channel baby.”

“Yes! Your second comms option is this micro-transmitter, concealed in this ornamental hair clip for your man bun. It’s a good thing you let your hair grow out. The transmitter’s range is two hundred yards, the distance from Fred’s house to our rental. But remember, this transmits; it doesn’t receive. I’ve also added a tiny GPS tracker attached to your hair clip’s underside. It has an eight-hour life and the range of a typical cell phone. To activate the transmitter or tracker, give it a good squeeze.”

Matt examined both items. “I’m impressed. This is very hi-tech gear. I’d never notice these gizmos unless I’d been involved in an operation like this.”

“One final matter. Ariana left earlier for Fred’s house. When you arrive, she’ll tell you where she hid your two guns.”

“Right!”

“That’s it then. Get a bite to eat and relax.”

Forty-five minutes later, Matt parked his car behind six other vehicles on a modest downhill grade. He was about to exit his car when a man approached Fred’s front door. With an apron thrown over his shoulder, he suspected the man was a cook. A sizeable Hispanic man stopped him before he entered the house, said a few words, and raised a plastic container. The cook withdrew his cell phone and dropped it into the container.

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