Monday started as a mostly normal week. Things were running smoothly at KCC; they needed to be. For JBG it was going to be a busy week. We had fifteen people from the agency in advanced training. The class started at noon with Ching Lee putting them through the paces and I took over when I came home from KCC.
The thing that struck me as odd, this group came with sealed folder that Frank delivered on the first night of the training, “For Your Eyes Only,” he said.
Other than disclosing a destination it was a mission outline with manpower and training requirements. There were descriptions of special ops equipment required, possible obstacles and the need for specialized training in those areas to guarantee mission success.
Reading between the lines, it was a snatch and grab along with data collection. I wondered why I was made privy to that kind of classified information. After I read the packet I locked it in the safe in my office.
On the gym floor I changed the training to help achieve the mission requirements. When the group left for the night I was going to modify the training Ching Lee was performing in the early session before I arrived.
We worked that way for the rest of the week. On Friday I was going to be gone to Frost Borough to testify before the grand jury. Ching Lee was going to train both sessions with Vicky that day.
The following week I was going to ramp up the training for the group to get it closer to the mission possibilities.
I worked as hard as I did in the Marines when it meant the difference between living and dying every day. I worked the fifteen just as hard, hard enough that I knew Frank was getting complaints.
Every night after some time in the hot tub to help very sore muscles, I reread the mission folder. I did not want to miss anything that I thought would help the group from a training standpoint.
Friday morning at seven Jason, Curtis Warren and I were on a King Air flying to Frost Borough. I had a briefcase full of office work to catch up along with a laptop.
Jason and Roseanne had finished all the background checks for the 200 potential employees that we were going to need at M&M. That was what the Michigan and Minnesota colleges were being called.
While Jason and Curtis talked legal matters I read the applications and reports. Roseanne had sent a duplicate packet to Mable, Eric’s secretary, for DHS to pass opinion on. I was not going to spend a lot of time on the folder until we received an approval list from DHS.
The second folder had the final reports for the just competed rape seminars. Marcy’s computer program had every cost itemized. Even with all that, we still had made six figure money and she was planning next year’s fall college list. If I ever wanted to go treasure hunting, I wanted her along because she could find the money.
There were still several dozen seminars to do after the start of the second semester in January. That was going to take the number over 100 this college year. Because of Jenny’s due date the decision on who was going to do them would be handled on a day by day basis.
Robbie had made me a list of all the spare C130 parts he found when they unloaded them on Monday. I was amazed that they had been able to put so much in the cargo bay of the two planes.
Both 130s left on their classified flights in the wee hour’s yesterday morning. In a Russian conversation with Frank yesterday afternoon, I had a good idea where they were going but I kept it to myself.
Dad had driven the jet fuel truck from Dover AFB on Tuesday as he promised he would. Robbie’s group went through the truck Tuesday afternoon and the state had certified the meter Wednesday morning.
The three ex-navy aircraft tugs were unloaded Wednesday afternoon. They were in better condition than the pictures showed. Robbie had already nicknamed the large one Big Mama. It was big, had a big six cylinder turbocharged diesel engine with an Allison automatic transmission and super low gearing. Robbie said the thing could pull the house off the foundation at idle.
He had also nicknamed the other two. “Whisper” was the smallest of the three. He called it that because it was so quiet. It was one step larger than the old one we had and was a perfect match for the King and Queen Air Beech Crafts and similar sized Cessna’s we had on lease.
The midsized one was “Moses.” It was the oldest of the three and perfect for the Bombardiers. It could handle the C130s if they were not fully loaded.
All three were diesel powered. Big Mama had no trouble moving the big planes in and out of the hangar.
The 110 gallon AV gas tank in the back of Sabrina’s pickup was converted to off-road diesel. There was a station in C-ville that sold that kind of diesel. There were no road fuel taxes on it.
The mobile stairs and baggage trailers were also delivered on Wednesday. The mobile stairs truck was in good condition. One of the mechanics pulled the seat out of it to have it repaired or recovered at the upholstery shop on the island.
The baggage trailers were getting all new tires today and Robbie had someone coming to bid on sand blasting and painting them.
The leased fuel truck and the two empty tankers left for North Carolina Thursday at noon time. I was glad to see the tankers gone from the parking area at the gym. I was worried that something would happen.
Something as simple as a leak at that location would have been a public relations mess. It was a miracle that not one of the local enviro-nuts had complained to the county.
On the plus side the fuel farm had supplied 30,000 gallons of fuel so far this week with the C130s, the Bombardiers and other flights. The savings had Marcy and Lorrie beaming. With our own fuel farm and fuel truck we were saving over a dollar and a half a gallon.
I closed the briefcase and joined in the conversation with Jason and Curtis. Neither expected much to happen with this grand jury investigation. The sheriff and county prosecutor had both won re-election with a big margin.
The sheriff won by riding on Caroline being saved and the prosecutor by promising that Murphy would never be paroled – and if he had a personal choice he would hang in the courtyard for his crimes – moved the voters.
Caroline had been released from the hospital yesterday. She and her family held a news conference thanking the community for the support. One of the local coal mining companies paid for additional air travel for her family to be able to see her on the weekends. The local timber company paid for hotel rooms and meals. JBG supplied rental cars for them.
Caroline was going to do something that few victims had done this soon after being attacked. She was going to testify in front of a grand jury today and then make several public awareness commercials for women and girls, to run after the trial.
I wondered if Dr. Rich had approved of her doing all this so soon. Yesterday I received the answer with a text from the Dr. wanting to know if I would have lunch with them and her family today.
Jason, Curtis and I met with all the JBG security employees who were to appear in front of the jury in the meeting room at the security office. We were prepped for an hour on how to answer and not answer and what not to say before we made our way over to the courthouse.
The courthouse was a madhouse. There was media from everywhere. It took 30 minutes to make our way into the courthouse through the maze. Sheriff Deputies and state police were doing their best to hold the crowds back.
More than one recognized me from that day and made time to speak to me and shake my hand. I guess they were like me; a face stays in the memory forever. I could tell they were struggling for a first name.
They took us one at a time for questioning. Each of us spent about 30 minutes in front of the jury. They held us in another courtroom to wait our turn.
Caroline and her family must have been held somewhere else. When everyone was allowed to leave for lunch we met her family in the court lobby. Courtney had reserved a private room in a ritzy restaurant for all of us.
We had a great lunch and gained lifetime friends, I was sure. Phone numbers and emails were exchanged.
The grand jury was finished and we were in the air for Morton Field at 3:30.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.