Going Rogue Ch. 04

Part 16 - Rulers Of The Night

At midnight, I pulled out in the standard Police cruiser. I was again wearing a standard Police dark blue uniform, but this time simply with no rank on, and with my own nametag. My badge was generic, with no rank or position listed across the top. I had to be careful at this point to not misrepresent who I was, lest any legal case I might have on Bryce could be compromised.

As I drove, I had Patrolman Bryce's ID chip and his car's GPS showing where he was on my laptop monitor that was mounted on the dashboard. He was driving around the area of the Downtown District just north of Courthouse Square, going slowly past the backsides of the Federal and State Buildings several times.

Sergeant McCombs and Officer Hendricks were nowhere to be seen. Myron and Mary, and David Krueger getting some very fast and shocking on-the-job training, were in the Command Post, monitoring.

As expected, I did not have to wait very long to find out what was going to go down. There is a copse of trees just east of the Courthouse Building, which dominates the east side of Courthouse Square. Cindy and I had walked through it on the way to confront Parole Officer Ryan Frost in his office.

In the night-time, this copse of trees was pretty dark, despite the street lighting in the area. And Patrolman Bryce had just pulled into it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile...

The two trucks painted in brown military camouflage were fairly well concealed under the north side of the structure of the University's Memorial Stadium. Inside were National Guardsmen from the 3457th Signal Intelligence Battalion, using an impressive array of electronic equipment that had been 'hardened' for combat field use.

"Agent Muscone," said the Captain of the unit, "we're picking up the signatures. Patrolman Bryce rode by the Federal Building, then his vehicle transmitted a 'blurp' signal."

"His car may have equipment that reads the frequencies coming from the antenna on top of the Federal Building." Muscone said. "God, how did the Iron Crowbar know that?"

"Sir, the other signatures may be the receiving station monitoring not only Federal and State radio signals, but the Town & County Police Department's traffic." said a Sergeant at one of the stations."

"I'm sure it is." said Muscone. He took out his cellphone and dialed a number. "Do you have the warrant? We're going to make the raid..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I stopped my car some 100 feet behind Bryce's. I could see him outside the car, leaning against the hood. He was obviously waiting for me.

Before getting out, I looked around, including peering past him and out onto Courthouse Square. I had noticed pairs of old people sitting on benches on College Avenue along the way. Why were they out so late? I wondered.

But I had something far more important, and dangerous, to consider. I texted on my cellphone that I was confronting Bryce. I knew Cindy, Theo, and several Uniformed officers were in the area, and I hoped they'd be ready.

I got out of my car and approached Bryce, red crowbar in hand and at the ready. He just turned his head and peered at me, still acting casual, laconic even. But I noticed he was right at the front edge of the car, well forward of the front tire as he leaned against the side.

"Well, if it isn't Commander Troy." said Bryce. "Or Corporal Feeley, or Irons, or whatever you're calling yourself tonight."

"Funny how you would know that." I said.

"While you were following me, I had you on my computer screen." said Bryce. "It was weird seeing the name 'Feeley' there... like a ghost following me."

"And an interesting route you took last night." I said. "So who are you working for?"

Bryce just smiled. "The Town & County Police Department." he said. "So, Commander... you here to arrest me?"

"And what would I be arresting you for?" I asked, my senses on high alert. Something was not right here... most very not right...

"You think I killed some dogs." said Bryce. "Of course, you have no proof."

"Some witnesses might recognize you in a lineup." I said. Bryce laughed sardonically.

I then said "No, I'm not here to arrest you. I'm here to find out why you're being such a stupid fuck."

Bryce's eyes flashed anger, which I could see even in the darkness. But he recovered and said "Maybe you think you'll beat me down like you did Thatcher. I'd love for you to try. I'm not some dumb shit, I'll whip your ass up one side and down the other. You pick on shits that don't know how to fight back, but I sure as hell do."

"I'm sure you do, being a former Green Beret----" I said. As I said it, I realized that Bryce was pretending to be casual, but his body was actually tense, ready to move. At first I thought he was preparing to either attack me or defend himself if I attacked him... but then I realized that he was near the edge of the car, and ready to dive around the front of his vehicle to the other side.

I was being set up, I realized. Set up for an assassination attempt.

"Dear me, Mr. Holmes, dear me." said Bryce. He must've realized that I was seeing through the ruse. His words shocked me, but I made sure to concentrate on my surroundings rather than succumb to his obvious distraction. I let my senses flow, staying in shadow near my car so that I couldn't be easily seen in the darkness.

"Ah, I understand." I said. "And I'm sure you think you just recorded that about Thatcher." I didn't have my little anti-bugging device... I had a far more powerful unit in the car... that was shutting down whatever was in Bryce's car.

"So, Bryce," I said, "what's in the back of your car? In the trunk?"

"You'll be dead before you find out." Bryce answered.

"Oh really?" I asked, ready to signal for the reinforcements to come in. "We'll see----"

*WHEE!!!!* *WHEE!!!!* *WHEE!!!!* *WHEE!!!!*

WTF? The sounds of whistles blowing started somewhere behind me, to the east, then suddenly it was like the whole area was full of whistles. Bryce and I both looked around. He'd jumped to the front of the car, so I knew in that split-instant that I'd been right that he was ready to duck for cover.

And then I heard it...

The high-pitched whine of a small motor... a motorcycle motor. It was coming from the east, behind me.

As the whistles had gone off, the Police in the area had jumped out of their hiding places. Police cruisers were beginning to pull up... and the motorcycle was approaching!

"GET DOWN!!!" I yelled out, into my radio as well as into the air. "EVERYONE GET DOWN! COVER YOURSELVES!!!

And just in time! I saw the motorcycle suddenly appear out of the darkness, coming up the sidewalk alongside College Avenue. As I ran around to the other side of my cruiser, I could see the rider in black leather and a black motorcycle helmet... and that she had breasts. It was a woman... the woman...

She pulled up and I saw her reach into her leather jacket and pull out a pistol... semi-auto with a silencer. She extended her arm and the driver side window of my cruiser exploded.

"Get him!" I heard a voice yell. It was Captain Ross's voice. "Shoot him!"

"NO! DON'T SHOOT!" I ordered into the radio and out loud again, seeing Bryce scrambling around as the motorcyclist revved up and took off into Courthouse Square.

*BANG!!!!*

It was one shot, from somewhere south of College Avenue, but I saw smoke being to billow from the motorcycle as it reached the west end of Courthouse Square, in front of City Hall. The driver turned north, then disappeared up the road out of sight.

"Follow that motorcycle!" I yelled into the radio. "Follow the smoke trail!" Two Police cruisers sped off, blue lights flashing and sirens wailing.

Police began to gather at the southeastern corner of Courthouse Square. Cindy ran up, asking "Are you all right, Commander?"

"Yes, I'm fine." I said. "Who fired the shot?" Everyone looked at each other.

"Come on," I said. "It's better if you tell me now."

Everyone looked around, then Cindy said "Sir, I'm not sure that any police officer shot at that motorcycle."

"Sergeant Rudistan," I said, "take charge of this scene. Captain Ross, call Internal Affairs, have them send a team. Have them affirm that no officer here fired his or her weapon. No officer is to leave until their weapon is checked. That includes me, and that includes you, Captain."

"Roger that, sir." said Cindy.

Part 17 - Burning Cycle

The I.A. team had ways to quickly check to see if a gun had been fired. Heat in the barrel showing up was one way; another was a kind of blacklight that would show recently expended powder. It wasn't foolproof, but it was enough to exonerate everyone... including Patrolman Bryce.

After letting them check my gun, I began looking around. All the old people that had been sitting around were gone. There were some college-age kids that had been walking in the area that had come to see what was going on. I knew that News vans would also be coming up.

Then we got a call, saying the cycle had been found, burning. I said "Captain Ross, are you driving my SUV?"

"Yes sir." Cindy said.

"Let's go. Rudistan, stay here, secure the scene, look for the shells from the shots fired by the motorcyclist, and by whoever hit the motorcycle.

As Cindy drove me in my SUV, I said "Damn good shot to hit a fast-moving motorcycle like that."

"They missed." Cindy said. "Hit the cycle instead of the driver."

"Nooooo." I said. "That shot was intended to miss the driver and hit the cycle, if I don't miss my guess."

"And you never do." said Cindy. "But why would someone want to hit the cycle and not the driver?"

"That," I said, as we arrived at the scene, "is the $64,000 question." We got out of the SUV and came up to the patrol cruiser and two officers. Next to them was a motorcycle lying on the ground, burning fiercely."

"Shit, this thing will be consumed by the fire before it can be put out." I said. "Guys, get back from it; the gas tank could blow."

"It already did, Commander." said one of the officers. I told them to get on the other side of their patrol car anyway. I then called on my radio for every officer possible to get down to this location and start looking for a leather-clad motorcyclist, slender in build, possibly a woman...

But all of their efforts would be fruitless. The motorcyclist would get away this night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An hour later, about 2:00am, Friday October 9th, I got an expected cellphone call. "Okay Cindy," I said, "let's go to the construction area of the State Crime Lab."

When we arrived, there were a number of cars there, most of them black with Federal Government license plates, and a couple of military vehicles as well. Cindy and I headed to the trailer. I noticed that three men were handcuffed and being held off to one side. One of them was a very angry Bert Jones.

"Hi Jack." I said as I entered the trailer. "A successful bust, I perceive?"

"Not much gets by you, Don." said Jack Muscone.

"Hello, Dr. Fredricson." I said, as if I barely knew my own wife. Laura was also here, dressed in black pants, a black sweater and black boots, and looking mighty fine.

"Hello, Commander." Laura replied, not quite hiding the gleam in her lovely eyes. "Captain Martin, this is Police Commander Donald Troy, who gave the FBI the tip to this, and Police Captain Cindy Ross. They're both FBI Consultants with Top Secret clearances, so you can speak freely to them."

"Good to meet you both." said Captain Martin, shaking our hands. He was a handsome man with a full head of brown hair and an air of authority. "I'm in command of Company Alpha, 3457th Signal Intelligence Battalion, with the National Guard. I don't know how you figured it out, Commander Troy, but there were two trucks full of signal equipment. They were monitoring Town & County Police radio traffic, as well as signals from the University, the Federal Building in Town, and doing it from this trailer at night."

"Relative to what you have in the military," I asked, "how sophisticated is this equipment? And do you know where it came from?"

"It's not the really high-grade stuff the military has." said Captain Martin. "But it's pretty good. Definitely not what a construction company would ever have nor need."

"Don," said Jack Muscone, "they've really been tracking the Police, and especially you. We've got several logbooks of notes they made. They recorded the frequencies of our transmissions from the Federal Building; that will be enough to arrest them on Federal warrants."

"So why were they doing this?" asked Cindy Ross.

"We're working on that." said Muscone. "We're going to go back and check out Jones as well as this company. I get the feeling they've done this before."

"It may be a crime of opportunity." I said. "New construction site right next to the State's University, and near a Federal Building and Federal Courthouse in Town. The question is whether the TCPD, the Feds, or the University is the primary target of interest to them."

"We'll find out." said Muscone. "Don, you want to talk to Jones before we take him to the City?"

"Sure." I said. I went with Jack, Cindy following, to where the three men were being held.

"Ah, Mr. Jones." I said. "I believe you told the County Sheriff that you were going to have me gang-raped and then murdered. Looks like you are the one that's going to be sodomized... in prison. So spare yourself the trouble, tell us who put you up to this, and maybe you'll get protective custody."

"Go shove that crowbar up your ass, buddy." Jones said, practically under his breath. I nodded to Jack, who silently signaled for the FBI agents and military people to take the other two criminals around the corner of the nearby truck, out of sight.

"Okay, Captain," I said to Cindy, "want to help me shove this crowbar up Bert's ass?"

"Sounds like fun." Cindy said. She grabbed Jones and whirled him around so that his stomach was pressed against the back platform of the truck. I began tapping Jones's asscheeks with my crowbar, not all that hard.

"Damn, he shit his pants." said Cindy, smelling the odor before I did.

"One more time, Bert." I said. "It's going to be a long, long night."

"Go fuck yourself." said Jones. "HEY!!! HELP!!! I'M BEING ASSAULTED!!!"

"Come on back over, Jack." I said. When they came around I said "I didn't touch the bastard, but he's not going to talk. Maybe the FBI or CIA can use better methods and get something out of this stinker."

"Yeah, 'stinker' is right. You shit your pants, Jones!" Jack said with a sardonic laugh. "All right guys, take 'em away, but put a diaper on Jones before putting him in the car..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Okay, I have to go." said Laura to Captain Martin. "Jack Muscone will be your liaison if you find out anything more."

"Sure." said Captain Martin. "It's very nice meeting you, Doctor." he said.

"Call me Laura." she said as they shook hands. He held hers for a moment.

"I may be in Town all weekend." he said. "Maybe we could get coffee or a drink?"

"Maybe." Laura said. "Here's my card. Give me a call. If not this weekend, the next time you're in Town." It was her card as a University professor. He took it slipped it into his pocket with a charming smile. They left the trailer and walked up to me and Jack Muscone.

Laura made her goodbyes to all of us, then left to go back home. Jack Muscone told us that he would give us a call if and when he learned anything new, so Cindy and I left and drove back to Headquarters.

"Want a drink?" I asked as we entered my office.

"Sure." Cindy said. "What I really want is some answers. What just happened tonight?"

"I will tell you all of that," I said as I poured Cindy a Canadian Whisky and myself a Scotch from the secret stash in my desk drawer, "tomorrow, when I have some answers myself. Right now, we should just go home and get a few hours of sleep."

"Can I just ride to the Mountain Nest with you? Jenna texted me; she was babysitting the kids while Laura wasn't there, and she's sleeping in the guest room."

"Sure..." I said, then fell into thought. "So where was my mom? I would think Laura would just ask her to come upstairs instead of calling Jenna..."

"Maybe she's not there." Cindy said. "Maybe she's with some stud that gave her a look like that Captain Martin was giving your wife."

"Ah, your powers of observation are increasing." I said with a grin. "She had eyes for him, too. All right, let's go." We left, but my mind was still wondering why my mother was not spending the night at home... and why did I have the feeling that Cindy's answer was a distraction?

Part 18 - Solution

Friday, October 9th, was a a busy day. The Crime Lab's report of the burned out motorcycle revealed practically nothing of good use to us. Ballistics were being run on the bullets that killed the dogs, and I was expecting those reports to show the same gun killed all the dogs that had been shot.

As for Patrolman Bryce, Lt. Masters reassigned him to first shift duty in the 3d Precinct only. Masters also ended the cross-precinct experiment with the six officers, and Jeremy Hatch was sent back to Courthouse courier duty.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We went to the Cop Bar for lunch, 'we' being Jack Muscone, Cindy Ross, Sheriff Daniel Allgood, and myself.

"All three of those guys lawyered up." said Muscone to me as we ate. "Bert Jones's lawyer is whining about his client being kept in shit-infested pants all night, but that's no big deal. As of right now, we don't think the construction company is fully involved; they picked up Bert Jones for this specific contract, and he hired the other two. We're working to find out just who recommended Jones for the job, and you know how that goes: Person A says 'I think Person B recommended him.' and Person B says 'No, Person A or C recommended him.' and so on. Government bureaucracy there."

"Who are their lawyers?" I asked.

"Firm out of Southport." said Muscone. "Ramon, Castro, and Partners, P.C. We're looking for Gresham & Mason connections, but so far all we're finding is some fringe connections to the Mob down there."

"Cool beans." I said. "Sorry to interrupt. You were saying?"

"Sure." Jack continued, " So we're working through Jones's whereabouts since he left Crown Chemicals after the PCGW disaster all those years ago. We had done that before, when your mom and Cindy here solved that cold case, as we were trying to trace the movements of those radioactive chemicals. Not a lot has come up, though."

"What do you want to bet you get pulled off this case, and told to not ask about it nor Bert Jones again?" I said.

"No way in hell I'm betting against you, ever." said Jack. Daniel laughed out loud as Jack asked "Why do you think that?"

"The sophistication of the equipment his guys were using." I replied. "Either someone is going to be embarrassed over losing that stuff, or someone is behind these guys and gave them that stuff. Either way, they're going to want this thing shut down."

"So, as you asked," said Jack, "who was their primary target? TCPD? Us? The School?"

"Let's put that off for a second," I said, "and talk about the entire case. I can see that Captain Ross's patience is on a thin 'leash', pun fully intended." Cindy gave a brief smile as I said that.

I started in: "I believe we will have no more dog killings, unless some idiot does some kind of copycat crime."

"So was Brett Bryce behind the dog killings?" asked Cindy.

"Probably," I said, "but we have no solid proof. We also likely have multiple perps involved. But the dog crimes were actually done for one reason: to distract us. Someone wanted us running around all over the County, looking for dog killers, and they did that so that we would not notice something else going on. Alas, by some fortuitous circumstances, that 'something else' was discovered and has netted the FBI some perps."