Read April 4: A Different Perspective for Free Online

to him probably did. Crap, could be both of them following it around on a map. The very thought gave him the shivers. He decided to take a walk until his people got here. There was no point in standing beside such a trouble magnet.
    Otis found a coffee kiosk in the lobby of the medical building. He got a latte with a hefty top of whipped cream and grabbed a handful of napkins for the inevitable mess. He tipped the fellow exactly twenty percent, not enough to remember him as cheap or generous. He walked around outside, taking a different route back to the Dunestar and saw Keith drive in past him as he walked up the ramp.
    He was pleased to see his man backed in on the far side, away from the distant security camera. They both went to the rear and opened their vehicles. Otis opened the big case on the floor and Keith looking over his shoulder let out a long whistle. The long barreled .416 Barrett was the military model, not the civilian version. It had the long tension sleeve barrel and a computerized Nightforce scope, with integral laser range finder and Doppler wind correction. The lumps of self adjusting servo motors projected from it instead of manual adjustment knobs. The compartmented case included trigger and barrel tools, cleaning necessities and two ten round magazines loaded with Hornady match ammo.
    There was a window breaching charge, that could be wired to the gun's electronic ignition. It would open a hole a few milliseconds ahead of the gun firing so there was no danger of deflection off the glass. The whole rig was way serious overkill for a two hundred meter shot. To the point where Otis doubted the pro had specifically requested this gun. A cheap hunting rifle would have been plenty and less likely to be tracked. In other circumstances he'd have been tempted to substitute a lesser gun and keep this for himself. It was a lovely piece of equipment. However, given what a serious crime the weapon was associated with and its unknown provenance, it was much too dangerous to keep.
    It was way too much gun, unless, he reflected thoughtfully,  the gunman didn't intend to use the hotel room they provided at all, but planned to shoot from a more distant point of his choosing. Something he'd keep in mind. There might be other reservations or shooting sites, that the police could find and other people involved in setting those up, who Pretty Boy wouldn't have known about. He mustn't assume everything was as presented.
    Otis moved the gun and several other items to Keith's minivan. Otis could read the alarm in his eyes to have the illegal gun in his vehicle. Several sworn officers that worked for Keith shot the .416 or .50 caliber Barrett for their agencies or the Guard, not California cops, but Federal. Barrett didn't sell to California, so the state hated them and pointedly didn't issue private security permits for the big rifle. Possession broke so many laws in California, a grand jury would be a week making a list. Otis was his boss and he trusted him, so he didn't object - yet. Otis was pretty sure he was near Keith's limits though. He had the bullet puller, the requested round and a man in street clothing who must be his disposal driver.
    "I have Phil rounding up the golf bag," Keith assured him. "He's supposed to buy one at a used sports equipment store and park a couple blocks over on a residential street waiting for one of us. We can meet him there or call him in on the phone. You know, Wiggen is coming into town tomorrow. That's a hell of a bad time to be riding around with this in the van."
    "Wherever he parks is just fine," Otis said. "The sooner we're out of here the better." He pulled the bullet, poured the powder on a coffee napkin and pinched just a couple grains between his fingers to drop back in the neck of the brass cartridge. He replaced the bullet, tapping it home with the back side of the puller and chambered the round. "This will be a lot less of a problem in just a minute," he assured Keith.
    "Uh,