Longer Short Cut

Treasa and I went to the Philadelphia Boat Show yesterday. Unlike the Baltimore Boat Show, I wasn’t there on behalf of Mother, or any other official business. Instead, we just went up to look at what we’d spend money on if we had a spare hundred grand, which we don’t.

On the way there, though, we encountered multiple sirens from police, fire response personnel and emergency medics. The short cut I wanted to take to the highway was blocked off. Nothing incriminating was in my truck, so I wasn’t concerned if we got stopped, but because we were forced to take an alternate route, I was glad I knew the area well enough not to get lost.

The road we took wasn’t something I was familiar with because I knew the area, but rather a series of side streets I learned because they were an additional way for me to get to work when I need to get to the downtown office. Every so often, I’d take the extra ten minutes to wind my way through these neighborhoods to see if I could recognize a car that I sometimes saw on my typical commute. The chances that someone was taking the same route on the same day as me would be slim. It’s a good way to see if you’ve picked up a tail.

Yesterday, however, I was less concerned with that. Instead, it showed how preparation for one thing can pay off greatly for another.

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Cheque This Out

Sometimes a man has just got to make a living.

In this business, you tend to stumble upon business operations that generate lots of money. A few years ago I was able to acquire a pile of cash, in the electronic sense, that I’ve been sitting on ever since.

Patience is the key. If you finish an operation and immediately go out and buy a boat or something, you’re sure to be under an allotment of fiscal microscopes. You need to be able to substantiate what you purchase. What isn’t watched as closely, however, are your everyday expenses.

Using this train of thought, today I set up an auto payment for all of my utility-esque expenses. Cable, internet, trash, water, and power. These are now paid automatically every month from an offshore account, funneled through an ING savings account, originating from my operational find a few years back.

The beauty of it all is that I’ve offset a few hundred dollars of monthly obligations that weigh against my corporate salary. Is it like winning the lottery? No. But winning the lottery draws attention. Attention gets you killed.

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Don't Showboat, Just Get Your Job Done

Well, turns out Mother’s original intel wasn’t totally accurate. I wasn’t in Baltimore to track down a potential boat buyer, I was there to locate a boat dealer.

I can’t imagine the logistical nightmare shows like this create. There were probably a few hundred boats inside the Baltimore Convention Center. Maneuvering trailers around the building in order to precisely place each boat in its location must be choreographed perfectly. And I do mean perfectly. These boats were mere inches away from each other. I’m sure this task was obscenely stressful, not just because of the time sensitive deadline, but because many of these boats were several multiples of my yearly corporate salary.

Organized chaos is a great opportunity for someone looking to get something done under the radar. The Director of Logistics, or whatever their actual/official title is, would have been under a great deal of pressure. Issues would only be brought to their attention if they were of the utmost importance. So if someone sees something that doesn’t seem right, chances are no inquiries will be made.

Mother’s new and improved information said that one of the boat dealers was transporting something illegal between conventions. We didn’t know what; drugs, arms, bootleg DVDs of Grey’s Anatomy. We had no idea. The what was someone else’s problem. The where was my task. And that’s why I brought the tracking devices.

The actual mission was easy. It’s not hard to find a boat dealer at a boat show. They advertise the bejeezus out of themselves. Determining what boat(s) were being used for transporting illegal goods was a bit more challenging. Each boat was in pristine condition. They were cleaned from top to bottom, so there was no visible evidence, that I could find, without CSI-esque gear, showing that a particular compartment was being used. Therefore, I picked two boats that had a good amount of storage room, planted the devices and hoped for the best.

Unrelated, if anyone is looking to buy a boat, I recommend contacting Dirk Van Rees of Taylor Marine Centers. He was genuinely friendly and extremely knowledgeable about the products he was selling. In particular, we talked about a 23 foot Grady White walk around cuddy cabin.

On that note, I’m going to go buy a lottery ticket.

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Thank You, Come Again

After work I went over to a small strip mall to meet someone on Mother’s behalf. This was the kind of place that was busy enough so that two people arriving at the same time wouldn’t be the only thing to watch, but not so congested that you had a hard time keeping track of who was coming in and out.

The strip mall had two ways in and out, one on each end of the parking lot. I entered from the west side. As I was pulling into my isolated parking spot, I observed a loading truck pull up on the east end, partially obstructing the exit. That way out now pinched the flow of traffic to one lane. It could still be used for a quick escape unless some innocent was entering as I tried to speed away. Or, of course, it could be by design.

Either way, the meet had to take place now. With the parking lot sparsely populated, sitting in a parked car for the truck to depart, if in fact the truck was there for legitimate reasons, was not an option. It would draw too much attention.

When I saw someone matching the rough description of the person I was waiting for walk into the convenience store, I followed. To even a fairly well trained eye, as well as the security cameras, our contact looked polite and casual. After my contact grabbed a bottle of Pepsi (blech) from the refrigerator, he held the door open for me so I could select a Coke Zero. Holding the door open gave the window just enough time to collect some condensation to further obstruct what our aligned bodies could not. Two electronic monitors were now inside my jacket. They were equipped with both a GPS and a satellite enabled recorder. We walked to the counter without any additional interaction, paid, and went our separate ways.

With the east end still partially blocked, and no sign of an ambush coming from the west, I exited where I entered and made my way back home.

What were the two devices for, you ask? Well, Mother’s intelligence places someone of interest at the Baltimore Boat Show tomorrow. Should they purchase a boat, it’s my job to make sure one of these devices is concealed inside. Why two? Well, in case they buy two boats.

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