“So we’re eating,” Sidney said between bites of dinner.  “What’s the target?”
        “The Dallas court house,” Bee said after glancing at Ira for permission.
        “You can walk right inside without causing a scene without my expertise.  Why am I here?” Sid asked.
        “As you know, every court house has a vault.  We want the money in it, but you’re the only one with the ability to get inside it.  We’ve cased the area, so you wouldn’t be unprepared,” came Bee’s reply.
        “How?” Sid asked.  “How do you case a guarded vault in the back of a limited-access room without drawing attention to yourself?”
        “All our members are privy to information useful to our cause,” Ira explained.
        “You have people on the inside,” Sid restated bluntly.  “I still don’t see why you need me to get in, especially since you’ve got “privileged” staff.”
        Ira rubbed his bald temple.  “Miss Gregor, your questions vex me,” he said in a controlled voice.
        “She doesn’t know how to open it.  Even if she did, it would be obvious it was an inside job,” Bee rushed to cover Ira’s rudeness.  “Above all else, we protect our own.”
        “One more question,” Sid said.  “Why knock over a court house vault?  Surely there’s more money to be had from a bank heist or a rich man’s house.”
        “The Cirq is no longer about money,” Ira snapped.
        “It’s a…tactical move,” Bee said slowly.  It was obvious she was trying to keep the peace between Sidney and Ira.
        “Good grub,” Sid took a bite of her meal, satisfied with the answers she received.  She would push for more information later, when Ira was in a better mood…if that ever occurred.
        After dinner, Sidney went to the girl’s locker rooms, which used to be a student bathroom and now housed showers as well.  Stepping into a stall, she began running the water and undressed, pulling a small, thin, phone-like device from its hiding pace inside her shoe.
        “Gage,” she said in a quiet voice as she pressed a button.  She released it and listened intently.
        “Sidney, where are you?  It’s really noisy,” her partner replied.
        “I’m in the shower,” she sang so as not to attract unwanted attention from anyone overhearing.  With luck, the rushing water would drown out her words and people would think she was humming to herself.
        Quite a distance away, Gage sat in an unmarked van equipped with numerous surveillance systems.  When he heard his partner’s melodious message, he grinned.  He had forgotten how well she sang.
        “Really?”  he replied.  “Heh, heh…” He could almost hear Sid roll her eyes.
        “We’re hitting the Dallas courthouse vault tomorrow,” she sang to the tune of “You ain’t got a chance,” a popular country song she often joked was Gage’s theme.
        Gage laughed at the zing.  “What else?” he asked.
        “I’m not getting many straight answers, but there are a lot of hidden messages,” she crooned.  She told Gage about the dinner conversation, her chat with Beatrice, and the state of the facility to a random tune she invented.  She silently applauded herself for managing to make some of the impromptu lyrics rhyme.
        “Be careful,” Gage warned.  He didn’t like the sound of things, especially since Ira Temp and Beatrice Thompson were involved.
        “Always,” she said softly.  “Out.”
        Gage looked at the notes he’d taken from Sidney’s song.  There was more to the Cirq’s plans than simple bank robberies, but he couldn’t put his finger on what that other motive was just yet.

        “Party at my house,” Toones grumbled as Trent, Gage, Trivette, and Agents Tyler and Porter stormed the house.  He picked Trent out of the crowd and motioned for the blonde youth to come over to him.
        “It took me a while,” Toones said.  “Actually, I found it by accident.”
        “Found what?”
        “The match!  I was watching the news on TV, and they’re doing a story on an upcoming charity for the children’s hospital.  One of the newsmen, he holds up some of the things on auction, and one of ‘em’s this signed napkin.  The writing matched.  ‘To the T,’ if you’ll pardon the expression.  Now’s when you ask who the chick was,” Toones said excitedly.
        “Who singed it?” Trent asked in an eager tone to please the old man.
        “Beatrice ‘Bee’ Thompson,” Toones finished proudly.
        “Congressman Thompson’s wife?” Agent Porter asked incredulously.
        “It makes sense,” Gage put in.  “Sidney said that Bee and Ira were the heads of the Cirq operation.”
        “That proves Carlos’ innocence, right?” Trent asked.
        “If we can prove that the Cirq had someone in the police station frame him, yes,” Walker said.
        “Hold it!” Agent Tyler yelled.  Everyone stopped talking.  “What is going on here?  Who’s Carlos and what does he have to do with the Cirq 30?”
        “Two days ago, someone broke into Carlos’ apartment and wrote a note on the wall that said ‘Stay away from him.’  ‘Him’ referring to Trent, who had been attacked the previous day.  Both of them are PIs investigating Beatrice Thompson on behalf of her husband,” Trivette was filling in.  He noticed the FBI sneer when they heard Trent was only a PI, not an official.  “Carlos is a cop, too, and he was arrested today for possession of drugs, which came from the evidence room.”
        “So then why did the Cirq attack Trent, leave him there-alive-and then warn Carlos to stay away?  Why wouldn’t they have just finished their job on Trent in the first place?” Porter asked.
        “It would help if you could remember what you were doing,” Walker sighed.
        Trent was about to reply that he couldn’t, but vivid images flashed in his mind’s eye, almost too fast to make sense of them.
        “Margo,” he whispered.  “I was trying to track her, and the trail led to Ira,” he said slowly as the memories became clearer.  “Oh, God!” he said softly.  “He killed her, didn’t he?” He turned away from the group, trying to pull himself together.
        “Margo Jones?” Tyler asked sharply.
        “Yeah, she was a friend of his,” Walker explained.
        “She’s our missing agent,” Porter said.
        Toones had been listening silently up until that point.  “I don’t think it’s about Trent and Carlos,” he mused.  “I think Trent just got too close to Ira for his own good, and Ira and Bee just wanted to protect the Congressman.  ‘Stay away from him’ meant that you should give up Thompson’s case.  When you didn’t, they made sure Carlos couldn’t help.”
        “There’s a theory I can buy into,” Porter agreed.  “What’s the Cirq’s next move?”
        “Courthouse vault,” Gage supplied.
        “It’s a political target,” Toones explained.  “Back about five years ago, just before I retired from the FBI, there were a string of robberies, similar to these, on the east coast.  They made it appear as though they were hitting the City Hall.  Instead, they blew it up.”
        “It was retaliation against the mayor.  Evidence surfaced in the following investigation that linked him to illegal activities…embezzlement and fraud mostly,” Porter continued.
        “Kind of like a modern day Robin Hood,” Tyler said.  “Only Robin Hood didn’t kill innocent people.”
        “So we assume that they’re hitting the courthouse for a similar reason,” Gage said.  “It’s political, not monetary.  That fits with what Sidney discovered.”
        “Who’s the real target then?” Trent asked, but no one had an answer.  They resolved to meet back at Ranger Headquarters to research what the Feds referred to as “Operation Merry Men,” the take down of the Cirq 30.

        It took a few hours after all the arrests were made and statements were given before Alex could obtain an order to release Carlos from jail.  However, his car (found as it was with drugs in the trunk) was still impounded, and would be for the remainder of the day.  To make matters worse, the receptionist was rather pessimistic about Carlos’ chances of freeing his car before the end of the week.  Dejected, he waited outside the prison building for a ride, suspecting that Trent would be by shortly to pick him up.
        He waited…and waited…and waited.  Carlos began to worry because he had heard no news yet of what had taken place with the Cirq 30.  Was Trent injured?  A bright yellow Jeep Wrangler pulled into the parking lot.   The glare cast by the setting sun made it impossible to tell whose car it was.
        “Going my way?” a familiar voice asked.  Carlos grinned and stood, dusting off his pants.  His grin grew steadily the closer to the vehicle he got until it stretched across the whole of his handsome face as he reached the driver-side door.  Vivian matched his dazzling smile with one of her own.  Carlos reached in the open window and firmly grabbed her in a thorough kiss.
        When he was done and seated next to her in the car, she explained what had happened.  “Trent and Margo disappeared shortly after the Cirq was arrested, but they promised to meet us at Uppercuts for dinner,” she finished.  “The whole crew is going to be there, I guess:  Trivette, Walker and his wife, Sidney and Gage.”  She sounded anxious.
        “Are you worried about something?” he asked.
        “It’s just…what if they don’t like me?” she said.  Carlos just laughed in reply.
        “I like you, and they like me.  By default they have to like you,” he told her.  She smiled, putting her fears aside.

        Trent was horribly late coming to Uppercuts, and he was praying that no one asked him where he was.  He didn’t care to explain what he and Margo had been up to since leaving the crime scene.  He walked into the crowded bar, pulling off his shades and holding the door for Margo.  They began to walk to the large table Butch set up for them when a hand reached out and tugged on Trent’s jacket.
        “How’s the investigation going?” Benny asked.
        “Investigation?” Trent was confused.
        “That girl,” Benny pointed to the buxom blonde he had shown Trent a few days earlier.  Trent was about to advise Benny again to just ask the lady, but inspiration struck.
        “Excuse me, miss,” Trent called to the woman sitting a few chairs down the bar.  He could feel Benny, with his hands still on Trent’s lapel, stiffen.  “This man would like to buy you a drink,” he finished when he had the blonde’s attention.  She smiled prettily and moved down to sit next to Benny while Butch filled her glass again.
        All parties satisfied, Trent and a shamelessly laughing Margo sat with their friends.  Everybody had questions for Margo and her undercover assignment.  She and Sidney got along famously, trading spy stories.  Vivian’s fears were put to rest, as she was also included in the conversation.  Trivette in particular was fascinated by her experience with forensic science, a field she dabbled in when she could find time.  Eventually, the topic turned to the Cirq and the day’s happenings.
        “Two bodies were found in the ash of the building,” Walker said.  “And Beatrice and Ira were missing from the Cirq captured.”
        “Do you think they decided to go down with the ship, so to speak?” Alex asked.
        “The forensics team says one of the bodies recovered was trapped under something.  Their opinion is that the other might have been trying to help when the building came down,” Trivette mused.
        “That’s not the way Ira works,” Margo said.  “He would never sacrifice himself.”
        “I don’t know,” Sidney said doubtfully.  “Ira seemed quite taken with Beatrice.  I think it’s possible.”
        “Depending on how burnt the bodies are,” Vivian said, “it could be really hard to make a positive ID on them.  We might never know…”
        “Who else doesn’t care anymore?” Carlos asked, raising his hand.  Gage and Trent were fast to agree.
        “Butch!” Trent called to the bartender, “Can we get some music here?”  A few seconds later, an upbeat dance tune pulsed through the bar.  Trent, Carlos, and (after a moment’s hesitation) Gage pulled their respective partners to the middle of the building, where Butch had told his help to clear the tables.  They began to dance, joined quickly by Benny and his girl and a few more couples.  Within a few minutes, Butch had set up some colored lights that changed to the beat of the music, and a fine time was had by all.