Senile Squad: Adventures of the Old Blues

Senile Squad: Adventures of the Old Blues Read Online Free PDF

Book: Senile Squad: Adventures of the Old Blues Read Online Free PDF
Author: Chris LeGrow
an amazing resemblance to tunnels, so wide a couple of golf carts could easily drive the length of each. When the improvement to the city system finally reaches us out here, the plumbing will be ready to immediately link up to the city.”
    “And, of course, the city planners and inspectors were ecstatic,” Bud drawled.
    Ben smiled at the memory. “Absolutely. No charge to the taxpayers,” he murmured to his companions. “Always the magic words.”

    Downstairs, far below the public face of the project was the main supply room. Solid steel doors declared: Restricted—No Admittance. Washing machines lined one wall; janitorial and indoor maintenance supplies sat in adjacent cabinets.
    “’Bout time you three got down here.”
    Delighted that he’d managed to induce the Sarge to head up the operation, Ben smiled and strode over to shake his hand. With a nod of approval at the tall, white-haired man, Ben turned to introduce him to his associates.
    “Sarge,” he said, “our compatriots in this venture: Bud and Frieda Williams. Bud and Frieda, Sarge.”
    The Sarge, tall and imposing in retirement, grasped each person’s hand in turn to shake it. Ben remembered his introduction and the firm grip of a man who still worked out and kept in shape.
    The Sarge pulled his well-chewed but still unlit cigar from his mouth, his brows knitting. “You mean the insurance gods?”
    Ben, Bud, and Frieda laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said.
    “No wonder this place is so James Bond,” the Sarge said. His frown disappeared and a smile lit his lined face. “This plan is genius. It’s gonna be great!”
    “So who have you chosen to run this particular area?” Ben asked. “The Sarge says the supply room is the key to everything: secrecy, uniformity, and general success.”
    The Sarge scratched behind his ear and cocked his head. “Paps and Jerry are my pick. They were responsible for the supply room at headquarters and ran the weapons room for riot teams when we were on the job.”
    “That’s fine for paperclips and smoke grenades,” Bud said, “but this is going to be much bigger. It’ll be the heart of your command center.”
    “Yes,” Frieda added. “What we have in mind isn’t only equipment, but research and development of surveillance, intelligence, light weaponry, and an entire staff of dedicated research and development personnel to tap into the local corporations for funding.”
    “We want the best and brightest lab technicians in the surveillance industry,” Bud said. “There’s an entire network of bomb shelters and tunnels under this facility, and it’ll have the latest equipment, labs, testing ranges, and—”
    “A supply room maybe?” Sarge asked. Stuffing the stogy back between his lips, he strode to a desk and lowered himself in what looked to be a custom-made recliner.
    He pointed a long index finger at a startled Ben who knew from the first moment that this grizzled veteran of the streets was needed for his power and command. Even so, Ben wasn’t used to being pointed at and ordered around.
    “Look,” the Sarge said. “Paps and Jerry ran that program tighter than anyone I worked with in twenty-five years. You have no idea what it takes to keep an updated inventory of every piece of equipment from paperclips to smoke grenades. Paps and Jerry do.”
    Ben stared at the tough, blunt ex-cop and reminded himself why he’d courted the Sarge for exactly this job. Sarge was the linchpin. Ben knew nothing about police work, surveillance, or catching the bad guys. Sarge could bring their plans to fruition. The Bureau could put all the bells and whistles they wanted into this structure, but without the right people, it would end up a money pit. Ben let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and pressed his lips together. “They sound like the perfect duo,” he said.
    The Sarge smiled and pointed at Ben once more. “Good. Now unclench your butt cheeks; you’re crushing your
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