Original Work Barry The Fairy.

Having completed most of the purchases needed for this operation, Barry bought the final set of three burner phones then removed the boxed contents placing them in ESD bags, then wrapping each in a closed layer of aluminum foil, and placed them in his truck. He then hit the local book stores for the needed code books. Purchasing a set of three paperback books from three locations, each set a different title and author, he then proceeded back to his cabin. There, he donned nitrile gloves and then removed the front and back covers from all the books and set them in the fireplace for later destruction. Each of the books were placed in individual bags, then a copy of each was placed in a larger bag with an ink pen. Three colors of ink were needed ID for purposes when reading the coded messages, Black, Blue, and red.

Barry then wrote notes in plain text requesting a meeting with the two ranchers in two days. The meeting place was a small cafe forty miles to the east of their home town. They were to drive cars, not trucks, and wear clothing indicative of typical urbanites. Nothing should indicate that they were ranchers. Barry then removed his gloves and waited for nightfall. Once good and dark, Barry drove to one of the nearby eateries and parked close enough for his truck to blend in, but not draw any attention either. Then going inside he ordered food to go then took it back to his truck where he donned the nitrile gloves then took the messages to the barber’s sign. Messages deposited, Barry drove back to his cabin and settled in for the night watching some MMA matches then an old western before turning in for the night.

Early the next morning after some coffee, Barry began his usual training routine of some light weights, calisthenics, running, and finishing up with some laser based pistol training in the nearby woods. Satisfied with the results, Barry then fixed and ate breakfast, then cleaned up the mess. It was time for his daily patrol.

Barry suited up in jeans, boots, and a cammie shirt and hat. He swung into his LBE gear, then shouldered his backpack and the gravel filled PVC pipe he carried as a pseudo rifle then exited the cabin. Everything on his training pack made up the same weight as his tactical gear, but would draw little if any attention if spotted or stopped by someone. His claim was to be in training for a future Alaskan bear hunt. Nothing he carried would be evidence of illegal hunting, and his only firearm was an economy grade imported .38 Spl snubnose revolver with the first two rounds rat shot for snakes. Hardly anything one would choose for a hunt, even though Barry could easily kill a deer using a standard bullet into the neck. Five miles in these brush choked hills would be more than enough to keep him in proper condition.

 

The next day Barry drove to a nearby town that had a two hundred yard rifle range, paid his fee and checked the zeros of his AR and M70 Winchester. He left the AR with an estimated 300 yd zero as best as he could with the drop table, and set the M70 with a five hundred yard zero. Then practiced slow fire for the next two hours before loading up and heading back to his rental cabin.

Once there, Barry cleaned all his weapons, then stacked them and his tactical gear behind the worn couch and rested for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow he would meet the two ranchers, ensure that they were still interested in continuing this course of action, then train them in how to use the books.

 

At 11:30 am the first car rolled into the parking lot driven by one of the ranchers. Barry saw that it was Mike Johnson alone as requested. He parked under a large tree and sat inside the car until he saw Ira Brooks pull into the parking lot in an equally ragged looking car. Barry motioned them over to him, and asked if they were still determined to take action if any of the cartel members showed up. Both replied in the affirmative, so Barry led them around to the side of his truck and removed the contact kits and handed both over. “In these bags you will find phones, nitrile gloves, note pads, books, and pens. Black, blue, and red will identify who the message comes from. Only write in your color with the pen provided.” Barry then showed the men how to use the books for messages, and how their opsec would work. That done he said. “Good, let’s go inside and get some lunch to avoid suspicion, and we can finish once we’re ready to leave.

 

Looking forward to a lot more story. Don't care if it is one line at a time. Like your devious mind in the story's and that it seldom runs in a straight line.

 

The three men walked in and were intercepted by a waitress who guided them to their requested table in the corner. Menes issued and meals selected the men settled down to wait. Since there were other diners in the area, Barry started a conversation to keep the mood light.

“I hear that you’ve brought in a big Lineback Dun stallion from Oklahoma. Mostly mustang blood? Heard he is 16h.” Barry said to Brooks.

Looking a little surprised but quickly recovering, Brooks replied. “Uh yeah, I got a good deal on him. He’s only three and has been saddle broke for a child to ride so it’s easy on his back. Those Native Americans I bought him from made me promise that no grown male would ride him until he reaches the age of five so as to not damage his back, and I have to agree with them as I’ve seen quite a few horses that were rode at two to three years old and it sure wasn’t good for them. Ruined the backs of two that I know of.”

“Same here.” Replied Mike Johnson with a disgusted look to his face. “I’ve got an uncle that just has to ride any new horse he gets first rattle outa the box. Don’t matter how young or old they are, and he’s messed up a few himself. Plumb irresponsible.”

“I
D like to come by and take a look at him sometime if that would be alright. I do love seeing good horseflesh.” Added Barry. “Is he a classic Lineback?”

“Yup, line down his back, black muzzle, mane, and tail. All four hooves are black too, and he’s rock solid. I might rope offa him, but little else. He’s gonna be breeding stock for the future.”, said Ira.

“That is some sound reasoning, and I wish more horse owners thought like you do. It would sure help out the horses.”

The men continued talking about horses, ranching issues, cattle prices and all the rest that goes along with rural life as they ate their meal. Once completed, they paid their bill leaving an average tip and walked out to their cars.