Austin, Texas
Schmidt gave a little bad-boy nod. "Ummm . . . yeah . . . I did. His very own rifle, too. And let me tell you, it was no easy thing getting an M-16 through customs. But a few thousand piastres to an acquaintance in the South Vietnamese foreign ministry . . . a diplomatic pouch . . . and . . ." He shrugged.
"Oh, Jack," Juanita half moaned. "He's gonna get killed." Her shoulders shuddered as tears filled her eyes. "My only brother . . ."
"Then let me go save him now, Juani. Call off the cops and I'll put a cordon around the mission the First Cav Division would think twice about forcing, let alone the FBI."
"It isn't just the FBI, Jack. BATF—well, Treasury including BATF and the IRS—want him for tax evasion . . . the guns . . ."
"Oh, what fucking—pardon my French—absolute bullshit! He's got a church. Church property used for church purposes is not taxable."
"You think they care, Jack?"
* * *