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Author's Chapter Notes:
FAIRFAX COUNTY, VIRGINIA
FEBRUARY 24, 1968
(12:54 A.M./EST)
* * * * *

"Gorilla" Simeon, Soo Ming Toy, and Little Jimmy Locke piled into the Navy-blue 1967 Ford Econoline van. Behind the steering wheel of which, Gary Sparks had been waiting...with ever-mounting nervousness.

"About time! Where's Manolo?"

"He can't leave until the scheduled time for all night shift custodians," Locke reminded him: "So, get going!"

This was true. It would be Spark's job to come back for the Brazilian much later that morning. But, in his anxiety to finally be away from the scene of the crime, right now, he had momentarily forgotten. So, he now drove as fast as the local speed limits allowed.

Arriving at the Five Forks Motel in Burke, Virginia, roughly an hour later.

This choice of hide-out had initially puzzled Juanita Cierva, as she and her normal-sized partner trailed the van in a 1964 Dodge Dart station wagon.

"Why aren't they headed directly for the East Germany embassy?" she wondered aloud.

"Petermann probably didn't want to risk direct complicity," replied Myron Meriwether: "In the event something went wrong...like museum security proving more efficient than anticipated! And, tactically speaking, a 'no-tell' motel, relatively close to Dulles International, does make a lot of sense.* If only in terms of getting there in time for an imminent diplomatic flight to China! How's the homing beacon, by the way?"

Juanita flipped open the glove compartment to examine the Japanese-built miniature radar screen.

"Still transmitting, loud and clear. Good thing we shrank those ear muffs for Pepe. El pobrecito would probably be stone-deaf by this point!"

Eventually, they pulled into the parking lot of the Five Forks Motel about ten minutes behind the Econoline.

"You wait here," Meriwether instructed: "I'll see if I can get us a room with twin beds."

Registering himself and Juanita, with the night manager of the motel, only took another five minutes. So, when he got back to the car, he immediately went to the window of the shotgun seat and gently rapped on it. Whereupon, she rolled it down.

"Room 444. Any visitors, yet?"

She grinned, and nodded. Holding up an infra-red Polaroid photograph of a Volkswagen Beetle that had pulled in, two minutes earlier. And, pointing at the couple on either side of its front bumper.

"The male is definitely Petermann! I didn't recognize the woman, though. All I can tell you is that she was grayish-blonde, and roughly the same age as him. Late fifties/early sixties."

"Which room did they go in?"

She pointed toward the right-hand corner of the balcony of Building Two. So, Myron asked for the infra-red binoculars.

"Room 453," he slowly read aloud: "Shades are drawn. But, from the silhoutettes going back and forth behind them, I'd wager there's more than two people occupying it! Let's get started."

Whereupon, he and Juanita checked on their Government Model Colt .45's (hidden within the holsters sewn into the left-handing linings of their windbreakers).

Meanwhile, within Room 453, Frieda Petermann was demanding to see the Golden Dagger-Axe of Hsia Jie. But, Little Jimmy was not so easily intimidated.

"Show us the money first, mein frau," he countered.

Frieda looked at her husband and nodded. So, he put the brief case he was carrying--in his right hand--down on the nearest bed. Following which, he opened the locks; lifted the lid; then, showed off the contents. All, with melodramatic slowness!

"The other half of your agreed-upon fee," he declared: "Do you wish to count it, Herr Locke?"

The latter nodded. When he had personally confirmed that the full amount was there, he nodded to Simeon. Whereupon, the ex-heavyweight boxer brought the Hsia Jie-ji over to Frieda. Yet, the moment she grasped it, two strange things happened!

First, the palms of her hands began to sizzle and smoke...as if she had just grabbed a red-hot fireplace poker. Naturally causing her to scream at the top of her lungs!

Then came the even stranger part. She not only shot up to a height of eight feet tall. She also took on the semblance of a half-grown Tyrannosaurus rex!!

tbc
Chapter End Notes:
*Dulles International: original name for what is now Washington Dulles International Airport.

El pobrecito: Spanish for "the poor thing."
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