Pablo, Sam, and Luke sat in silence as the old Volvo chugged around industrial St. Johns. Luke pulled into the empty parking lot of a giant warehouse. Fortunately, the weekend early pre-dawn morning left the lot empty. It was an ideal place to stash the car while they proceeded on foot.
Luke popped around back of the Volvo and opened the hatch, revealing the heavily laden plastic tub. He put on his armor, strapped on his back scabbards, and pulled on the oversized hoodie he used to hide it all.
Next, he grabbed a duffel bag he’d picked up from his garage. He pulled out three sets of FRS two-way radios and handed one each to Sam and Pablo.
“OK, they’re already tuned to the same channel. Pop the earbud in and give it a test. Just push the button on the earbud cord to talk.”
“Sweet! I call dibs on ‘Bandit!’” Sam called. Seeing the confusion on Luke’s and Pablo’s faces, she added, “What? We’re not going to pick cool CB handles? Spoilsports.”
“Anyway, Sam, keep the engine running in case we have to come out hot.”
He slid the tub back in and closed the trunk.
“You’re pretty slick at getting all the stuff on by yourself,” Sam commented.
“Yeah, I’ve done it a time or two. Usually not anyone around to help me. Stay safe, Sam. Keep an eye out for trouble and let us know if there’s something we need to know.”
The men set off at a casual walk, passing various other warehouses and retail fronts.
“Hey, Luke. Need a harp?” Pablo asked as he pointed to a harp shop.
“They are one of the more mobile of instruments…” Luke quipped.
They set up behind a hedge surrounding the parking lot and found a section with a gap at the bottom. It allowed them to see through the trunks of the tall camellia bushes. Wapato Jail had cost tens of millions from a voter approved bond yet had never housed a single person until recently. It begged the question as to how, and what Portland’s government knew about the less than savory operation they’d leased the huge facility to.
Two guards appeared out of the dark, walking a patrol around the jail. “Humans or bloodsuckers?” asked Pablo.
“Pasty, gaunt, trendy threads. I’m going to say vamp. That and my fanger senses are tingling. What’s your nose say?”
Pablo grinned. “Like they haven’t taken a bath in a while and are lacking that sexy ‘I don’t care’ musk, with a hint of corpse. Vampire.”
They watched the undead guards do their patrols. About thirty minutes before sunrise—the first rays of pre-dawn light peeking over the horizon—they were relieved by a set of what were clearly human guards. Luke and Pablo peeked out from under the bushes as the sun ascended behind them, illuminating the front of Wapato Jail. The pair of security guards strolled around in rumpled uniforms.
“Human or bloodsuckers?” asked Pablo.
“Definitely humans. Vampires are a bit more graceful,” Luke observed as one of the guards tripped over one of the giant stone spheres decorating the outside of the jail.
Pablo chuckled at the guard’s unintended pratfall. “Also, you know, the sun…”
They laid there silently, barely moving as they watched.. Luke occasionally took some photographs with his cell phone.
“Breaker 1-9, Bandit calling. Looking for Old Man and the Pooch, you got your ears on?” Sam’s voice crackled over the radio, imitating a trucker.
“Yeah. Everything OK there?” Luke replied.
“10-4, good buddy. Just saw a smokey bear and wanted to give you a heads up.”
“Thanks. I think we’re done here. We’ll be back shortly.”
“10-4. Put the pedal to the metal. The Bandit needs to stop at a choke and puke for a 10-100. Also, the Bandit needs some go-go juice.”
“Well, I guess we better get back to the car. Sam needs some go-go juice,” Luke said, his delivery deadpan.
“Go-go juice?” Pablo looked confused.
“Coffee, I think she means.”
Pablo chuckled. They broke into a light jog on the way. Instead of taking his armor off, Luke piled into the back seat clumsily, letting Pablo have shotgun.
“These cars weren’t meant for people in armor. I barely fit through the back door. Sam, I think that new coffee shop on Lombard by the Taco Bell opens early, even on weekends. We can get you a cup of go-go juice. I could use a cup myself.”
“Good, hopefully they have a restroom, too!” Sam said.
“For the 10-100?” Luke asked.
“10-4, good buddy.”
Pablo groaned and shook his head.