Phoenix Rising: by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online

there goes my beer. No pork, so there goes my pork skins. Oops, and no football. Also, no basketball or baseball. But the son of a bitch says nothing will change.”
    â€œDo you know where the old Mary Kay building is in Addison?” Carter asked.
    â€œYeah, I know where it is. Why?”
    â€œYou want beer and football? I’ll come pick you up Wednesday at six.”
    â€œWhat’s going on, Carter. What’s this about?”
    â€œYou just be ready by six, on Wednesday.”
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    Because cosmetics were considered sinful, Mary Kay was no longer in business and, as Moqaddas Sirata had not yet found a use for the building, it was unoccupied.
    On Wednesday nights a growing group of men would meet on the fifth floor of the building. As far as anyone driving by on the Dallas Parkway was concerned, the building looked no different on Wednesday night than it did at any other time. There were no cars parked around the building, and no lights showed from the building. Of course nobody expected to see lights, because there was no electricity connected to the building. Except on Wednesday nights.
    Two of the group of men who met on Wednesday nights were electricians, and they would connect the Mary Kay building to the power grid just before the group would meet, and disconnect it when the meeting was over. The windows of the fifth floor were carefully blocked out so that no light could be seen from outside.
    True to Carter’s promise, there was beer available, and also football, or at least DVD’s of past football games. One of the men, a Texas A&M grad, had a DVD of the Alabama–A&M game where A&M beat the number one ranked team in the country, holding off an Alabama comeback by intercepting a pass in their own end zone in the closing one minute and thirty seconds.
    After the game was over and everyone started to leave, Carter asked Buck to stay a few minutes longer.
    â€œAll right,” Buck said.
    Carter introduced Buck to two other men from the group; Frazier Nelson and Dean Pollard.
    â€œBuck,” Frazier said, “before we go any further in this discussion I have to know two things. One, what is your level of frustration with the way things are and two, how far are you willing to go to change things?”
    â€œI don’t have the vocabulary to tell you how much I hate the way things are now, and I’m not sure I can do anything to change things. But if there was anything I could do to change it, I would.”
    â€œEven at the risk of your own life?”
    â€œWhat do you have in mind?”
    â€œNothing unless I have a commitment from you.”
    â€œYeah. After what these sons of bitches did to Mr. and Mrs. Rosewell, yeah, I would risk my life.
    â€œDavid and Leah Rosewell were also good friends of mine. I don’t know whether they are dead or alive, but I don’t intend to stand by and let this go without response of any kind. How do you feel about that?”
    â€œWhatever you have in mind, I want to be a part of it.”
    â€œGood,” Frazier said. “Two days from now, Farran is going to send you out on a job. You’ll be deadheading out to Houston. But first you are going to go to just beyond the Addison Airport. Do you know Dooley Road?
    â€œYes, I know the road. It comes off Keller Springs.”
    â€œGo about one hundred yards south on Dooley Road and you’ll see an orange traffic cone. When you get there, stop. At exactly ten fifteen, open your trailer door, then get back in the cab and wait.”
    â€œWait for what?”
    â€œWait for a signal to proceed. When you get the signal, proceed on to Midway Road, then down to 635, then on to Houston.”
    Buck shook his head. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but it won’t work. My truck has a GPS; Farran will know where I am.”
    â€œRon Bannister does the maintenance on your truck, doesn’t he?” Frazier asked.
    â€œYes.”
    Frazier