The Riverboat Gamblers
While Nell worked the agencies to set up a rescue team, Eric worked on reconnaissance. He’d accessed a half-dozen security cams through the Ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles. As soon as Nell got of the phone, Eric shouted, “That’s the Research One. I’ve got a contact at Scripps!” He placed a call, and explained while it rang. “One of my college buddies is now a whale researcher at the Scripps Institute of Oceanography. Memorized the barnacle patterns on four hundred whales.”
“Hello, Brittany? It’s Eric Beale,” he greeted, putting it on speaker-phone.
“Ferris Bealer! How are you? Calling about getting together for some Hot Socks?” The woman on the line answered heartily. Meanwhile, Nell first startled, then stared.
“I’ll explain later!” Eric mouthed to Nell.
“Actually, no, Brittany. I’m here with my colleague, Nell Jones and we’re on speaker-phone, Britt.”
“Hello, Brittany.” It sounded like Nell was doing her best to hide the wariness in her voice.
“Hello, Nell Jones!” came the disembodied voice. “We probably owe you an explanation. Let’s all get together for a beer sometime.”
So while Nell muttered her consent, Eric continued, oblivious. “I actually got out of the blackjack racket a while back. Now I’m with NCIS, a federal law enforcement agency, calling ’cause we need your help.”
Brittany asked, “What’s up, Eric? I always figured you’d end up with the good guys.”
“Are you on the Research One right now?”
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