Beaufort, South Carolina
May 25
Beaufort, South Carolina could have been a movie set. Nestled in a bend in the Beaufort River, the waterfront town was steeped in charm. Everything, from the pale clapboard storefronts to the lapping of the river along the city walk, welcomed visitors. Century-old live oak trees heavy with Spanish moss shrouded roads and walkways. The marina that accessed the Atlantic could only accommodate mid-sized vessels, so vacationers who wanted to flaunt their yachts went elsewhere. The boats of commercial and sport fishermen comprised the majority of water traffic. The surrounding area was wooded lowland. Intermittently, the sea would encroach, forming estuaries and marshes. Just to the north, a large swath of protected marshland played host to an array of amphibians and waterfowl. Ice cream shops and seafood joints dotted Bay Street as well as the requisite diner, hardware store, and pharmacy. The nearest big box stores were miles away; the mom and pops were safe for the time being.
Tox and Calliope walked hand-in-hand, looking in the windows of souvenir shops and specialty stores. At the end of the block, a spry older man walking three Belgian Malinois headed their way. Tox raised a hand in greeting to Nathan’s uncle, Charlie Bishop. Charlie had served his country as a soldier, a Secretary of Defense, and most recently as Bishop Security’s government liaison. He had gone by the code name of Cerberus in tribute to the three dogs currently tugging on their leashes. The name was probably also a reference to the fact that in many ways Charlie Bishop was guarding the gates of hell, like the three-headed dog of myth, but if it had been, he hadn’t mentioned it.
“I parked around the corner. Wagoneer needs a new muffler, and it’s making a hell of a racket. Mrs. Baker at the bed and breakfast will call the sheriff if I get too close. Tox, you look like a man who landed a marlin on his first time out.”
Tox gifted Charlie with a blinding smile. “Happy to be here, sir.”
“Enough of the ‘sir’ shit. It’s Charlie. Now, who do we have here?”
Calliope extended her hand. “We have Calliope Garland.”
“I know your stepdad. Clemente and I go way back. I’ve heard you share his knack for observation.”
“I hope so, sir, um, Charlie.”
“I’ve got a few friends at The Department,” Charlie commented as they walked back toward his car. “You’ve proved to be quite an asset without ruffling any feathers. That’s more of a skill than you realize.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And you, Stretch, you ready to see the new place?”
“Yes, sir. I haven’t been down here since Nathan bought it. I want to see what he’s done.”
“He’s made some improvements.” Charlie was a master of understatement.
Charlie pulled the Wagoneer up to the guardhouse and the gate retracted.
“There’s a sensor in the car. Plus, Twitch has some space-age scanner rigged up that’s probably gonna give us all a brain tumor.”
They passed through the gate and continued on. “This was all farmland,” Charlie explained. “A developer bought it in 2006 and went belly up before he even broke ground. Bank was holding onto it. Nathan got it for a song.”
Calliope looked out the window. Tox leaned around her shoulder to do the same. The miles of four-rail crossbuck fences and the three Morgans grazing and frolicking in the fields gave the impression of an aristocratic horse farm. No doubt exactly what Nathan had been going for. They came to another guarded gate. Charlie waved to the guard with his right hand and entered a code into a plasma keypad with his left.
“What, no retinal scan?” Calliope half-joked.
“Nathan has all the bells and whistles. Waste of money. This facility has the best security available.” He nodded toward the pair of Dutch Shepherds patrolling inside the perimeter. Charlie was heavily involved in caring for retired military dogs and had apparently sold Nathan on their value. Judging by the three Belgian Malinois panting happily in the way-back of the Wagoneer, Charlie took the job personally.
“Those two served for two years at the Kuwait Naval Base. They’re as loyal and dedicated as the men.”
The building was a three-story red brick structure that looked exactly like what it had once been, an elementary school. Nathan Bishop was a pragmatic man, but he also operated with a certain panache that had Tox brimming with expectation. Charlie pulled around to the back of the building and parked in the lot between the building and the outdoor training courses.
Charlie walked Tox and Calliope to the back entrance where Nathan stood at the open door. Tox embraced his friend. Calliope followed suit. Charlie returned to the car with a wave and headed back out the way he had come.
Tox clapped once. “Well? Let’s see the Bat Cave.”
“The Bat Cave is a dump compared to this place. Welcome, Calliope.”
“Nathan, this is so cool.”
“If you think this is cool, come on.” Nathan turned to Tox. “Have you seen the house yet?”
Tox hesitated. “Not yet, we’re headed there next.”
“Well, that was dumb. Any house is going to seem like a shithole after this place.”