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I practiced drawing the Browning through the half open shirt a few times, though it’s hard to practice drawing from a sitting position, but we didn’t have time for me to get out and practice standing.

“You guys are making me nervous, putting me in Kevlar.”

“You didn’t argue,” Bernardo said.

“We don’t have time to argue. Tell me what to do, I’ll do it. But why the Kevlar?”

“Olaf,” Edward said.

“Riker employs twenty men, ten are just hired muscle. We’ve met half of them already. But he’s got ten that he keeps close to him. Three ex-seals, two ex-army rangers, one ex-police, and four guys who have black files. Which means whatever they do or did, it’s top secret and maybe rogue.”

I remembered what FBI Agent Bradford had said about Olaf. That he had a black file. “Isn’t this a little too commando raidish for a pot hunter?”

Olaf continued like I hadn’t said anything. Bernardo started showing me the contents of a large leather purse at the same time. I listened to Olaf and watched Bernardo.

“Riker has connections in South America that supply him with contraband. Suspicions are that he’s running more than just artifacts. Maybe drugs. The locals have no idea how big a bad guy they’ve got here.”

“When did you find all this out?”

“After they came to the house,” Edward said.

“How did you find all this out?” I asked.

“If we told you, we’d have to kill you,” Olaf said.

I started to smile, thinking it was a joke, but I caught a glimpse of his face as the only car we’d seen passed by, flashing lights over us as it passed. He didn’t look like he was joking.

Bernardo said, “This looks like a can of hair spray. You can even squirt out a small amount of cresol.” He demonstrated. “But lift here.” He did and revealed a second layer of metal. “This is the pin. This is the depressor. It’s an incendiary grenade. You pull the pin, let up on the depressor, and you have three seconds to get a minimum of fifty feet away from it. It’s got white phosphorus in it. This shit burns underwater. If you get a tiny piece on your sleeve, it will eat through the cloth, your skin, bone, all the way to the other side.”

He clicked the secret compartment shut and handed it to me. “Damned heavy for hairspray,” I said.

“Yeah, but how many ex-navy whatevers are going to notice?”

He had a point. Next was a small thing of breath freshener that was really heavy-duty mace. A key ring that when you hit the button on it, a four-inch blade popped out.

There was a heavy ink pen that actually wrote, that if you pressed the little switch, a six-inch blade came out the end. There was real perfume with a higher than normal alcohol content. “Go for the eyes,” was the advice. A disposable lighter, because you never know when you might need some fire, and a package of cigarettes to explain the lighter. There was a transmitter in the collar of the black shirt that would allow them to find me inside the buildings or at least find the shirt. I was beginning to feel like I’d been shanghaied into a James Bond movie.

I lifted out a hairbrush with a heavier than normal handle. “What’s this?”

“It’s a hairbrush,” Bernardo said.

Oh. I looked at Edward. The only thing he’d changed was putting a white Kevlar vest under his undershirt and white shirt. He was even still wearing his cowboy hat. Olaf and Bernardo were both dressed in commando black, and had backpacks that looked full. They were bristling with weapons, blacked so they didn’t show up at night, but not hidden.

“I take it that the guys here aren’t going in the front door with us,” I said.

“No,” Edward said. He hit the brakes, and Olaf and Bernardo slipped out of the car and into the darkness. Because I knew what I was looking for, I could see them in a running crouch going over the hill. But if you hadn’t been looking, you’d have missed them.

“You’re scaring me, Edward. I’m not like a commando raid, James Bond kind of girl. Where the hell did you get a hairspray grenade?”

“A lot of female secret service now. It’s a prototype.”

“Nice to know where my tax dollars