Grissom stood outside the loading dock, helping Priest back up the truck. Charlene had just parked the other Durango, and she got out to help Grissom. Walking over to him, she looked around. "Phil still hasn't shown up?" she asked.
"He was opening the last container and told me to roll out," Priest called from the cab of the truck. "He said he'd be along soon."
"He was probably making sure his car was undamaged," Charley said, rolling her eyes.
"It'd be bloody helpful," Grissom said, "if we had some idea what he'd be driving."
All three heads turned at the whine of turbochargers and the throaty rumble of what had to be a very large engine. A black Viper ACR rounded the corner and sped into the motor pool with none other than Phil Smith at the wheel. He pulled into a parking space, killed the engine, and hopped out of the car wearing a huge grin on his face.
"I suppose that will help the team immeasurably," Grissom said sarcastically.
Phil shrugged. "These help the team," he said, motioning to the other vehicles they had brought. "This one's for me."
Grissom looked at Charlene, who wasn't sure what to say.
Priest broke the silence. "What's in this container, anyway?"
Phil looked around. "Pull that truck in here and close the door."
Priest obeyed. Grissom and Charley both had suspicious expressions on their faces as the truck slowly entered the motor pool. Priest shut off the engine and got out of the cab, circling around to where Phil and Grissom stood behind the container door. Charley pushed a button, and the heavy door slid shut across the entrance to the motor pool.
The dim light cast eerie shadows across Phil's face as he pried open the container door. Grissom took one look inside and stepped back. "You're joking."
Priest's eyebrows went up, but the huge man said nothing.
"What is it?" Charlene walked over and looked inside. Her eyes widened. "No way."
The container was filled with weapons and ammunition from floor to ceiling, ranging from sidearms to mounted machine guns to a surface-to-air missile launcher.
"Definitely not something Chance would like to see," Phil said softly.
"Where... where did you get all this?" Charlene's pretty face paled.
"I have connections," Phil said cryptically. "Where is not important."
Grissom let out a long, low whistle. "Lovely, mate. Lovely." He picked up an M4 rifle. "I'd sure love to know where you get the cash for all this."
Priest eyed the missile launcher. "Just a bonus piece, or do you think we'll actually need this thing?"
Phil shrugged. "Better to have something you don't need than to need something you don't have."
"What are we going to do with all this?" Charlene asked.
"What good is a solid security system," Phil said, "if you can't back it up with something?" He turned to Grissom. "You're the security man. I'm sure you can figure out where to put these." He looked at the others. "And we don't need to talk about this too much. We don't need to borrow trouble from either the pacifists or the loose cannons on this team, and there are a few of both."
Grissom eyed Phil curiously. "Not a very trusting person, are you?"
Phil smiled coldly. "In my experience, it can be dangerous to trust too many with too much." He turned and headed off. "I'm going to get a forklift. We can set up a security office and a motor pool office right down here."
Charlene and Priest looked at Grissom.
Grissom shrugged. "I don't really know what to think."
