A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [102]
The weapon had been developed by Belgium as a NATO policing gun. Several thousand had been produced. NATO ultimately rejected the VEC–44 as inaccurate over forty yards and extremely dangerous when troops were dealing with civilians.
“It is worthless for target shooting or as a hunting weapon. The barrel gets so hot it becomes squirrely fast, and so the military rejected it. VEC–44 converted into fully automatic operates as an in-close kill machine designed for mean streets.”
The vodka bottle lowered by two cups.
“When NATO dropped the weapon, Belgium sold the licenses and patents in Panama in the forbidden city of Colon. Colon is impossible to penetrate and is a world hub for drugs and arms smuggling.
“The package was finally taken over by Roy Sedgewick’s Ark Royal Arms Ltd., a Canadian manufacturer, always slightly ahead of the government. VEC–44’s were converted into a cash crop. Small case lots drifted into the gun shows and under the counters of gun stores.
“Sedgewick siphoned off three thousand VEC–44’s and spirited them to his farm near Toronto. They were encased and hidden in a huge barn under bales of hay.
“When the Canadian government caught up with Sedgewick and Ark Royal, he had made preparation for his old age.
“In the paradoxical world of arms smuggling, Sedgewick hooked up with Hoop Hooper, the ‘commander’ of a two-hundred-man militia, the Grand Army of Wisconsin.
“If Sedgewick could get the guns over the border, Hooper would stash them somewhere on his ‘national military territory.’
“With the wrath of the Canadian government close behind him, Sedgewick didn’t have many choices, despite his doubts about Hoop Hooper. He loaded his hidden arsenal onto a semi-trailer and wheeled it down to Sault Ste. Marie, where it was reloaded onto a Great Lakes barge.
“The cache was enhanced by three and a half million rounds of ammunition, twenty thousand long clips, and a potpourri of grenades, rockets, machine guns, and mortars.
“Sedgewick estimated a street value of over three million dollars. Hoop Hooper was positive he could quickly move the guns to militias clear to the Pacific coast and as far south as the Mexican border.”
Quinn had become mesmerized at the tale.
“I waited for those VEC–44’s to move out of Canada for a year. Sure enough, I got tipped on a shipment of bonded crates to be passed through customs uninspected, apparently as a favor to a high American official.”
“Yow! Why the hell didn’t you seize them, Arne?”
“The guns were more valuable being traded in the States. I wanted to find out who the official was, and I wanted to learn their routes and the names of their customers, their communications, websites.
“The case was my baby, so ATF Washington laid off. The guns were held in the bonded warehouse until they were to be collected. Next day I opened a number of cases, confirmed the content, and implanted a GPS system. You know the GPS?”
“Ground-positioning satellite,” Quinn answered, “I have one in my plane.”
“We followed signals right into the Grand Army of Wisconsin’s training camp between Madison and La Crosse. There they sit. We can remotely switch the GPS power off and on and randomly check the position. As soon as the GPS reports back, we turn off the power.”
“What about Hoop Hooper?”
“Alas, poor Hoop,” Arne said. “The FBI, which generally gets in our way, nabbed Hooper on mail fraud, money charges, income-tax evasion, illegal weapons, and criminal Internet scams. He pleaded guilty to get a reduced sentence but said nothing about the VEC–44’s. The guns would be his stake when he gets out of the penitentiary.”
“Jesus, what a story.”
“Hell, this is a fairly easy one,” Arne said. “Some of these schemes get really complicated.”
“Why are you doing this, Arne? It’s brinksmanship for you.”
“You might as well be asking why I spent thirty years of my life in ATF. I don’t want those fuck heads to dump three thousand murder weapons onto the streets and woods of my country.”
“Arne, I belive you and thank you, man. Well, last question, who is the man who got the guns over the