Indiscreet while Undercover

I still had my pistol but drawing attention to myself would make me a target to both sides. All I could do was squeeze in tighter between two pallets.

The shooting became more sporadic. I hoped that Miguel's men had either fallen or were running out of ammunition.

It was still a couple of minutes before I caught a glimpse between the pallets of the first ATF agent. The shooting had finished. Clear voices could once again be heard as agents moved in short bounds into the building proper.

Nearby a different voice said: "This one is dead." Followed by: "So is the one in the blue jacket. The other guy by him is badly wounded."

I just remained squatting where I was waiting to hear that the area was secured. There were now numerous voices as reports were given on the situation. Then I heard a voice of authority direct three agents to conduct a detailed search into every corner. I knew now that I had to reveal myself.

I placed my pistol on the ground and then shouted: "I am surrendering!" I waited to hear movement nearby before shouting out again.

"Get out here now and keep your hands in the air," was the terse instruction. I already had my arms raised so now I sidled out from my cavity and walked into the open.

I detected two ATF agents in their military style uniforms, helmets and body armor pointing their M16s at me. One of them said: "Move to the other side of the vehicles." When I arrived, it was: "Lie down ... on your front."

I had barely laid down with my arms out to the side when I received a kick in my hip and directions to place my hands behind my back. I was then cuffed, searched and my wallet was taken. I then told the agent where he could find my pistol.

I had no doubt that someone had me covered, however I now looked left and then to my right. In due course, two of Miguel's men, already cuffed, were made to lie beside me. I could see a few other bodies, but I couldn't see Earl.

There was an ATF Medic working on one of Miguel's men. A few minutes later I noticed a couple of paramedics come to assist and then move from body to body. The other two prisoners were escorted outside one after the other.

I assumed I had been left to last as they knew who I was; however, I was also bundled into a waiting ATF Police vehicle and taken away.

It was a long drive to the Glendale Field Office. I was quickly processed through fingerprinting and then placed into a holding room by myself. I had deliberately kept quiet in case it was expected that I remain undercover. Now I was wondering if they did know who I was.

It seemed I waited well over an hour before two agents entered the room. They took seats across a table from me. I immediately knew they had no idea who I was when a recording machine was activated, and my Miranda rights were explained.

"I am Special Agent Morales. My associate is Special Agent Robinson. Who are you?"

Regardless of my undercover status, I knew it would cause complications if I answered with my undercover name. Besides, I had now had my fill of undercover work. I replied: "I am Special Agent Mark Brady. I have been working undercover for the FBI." Although they remained quiet and passive, their eyes told me this was not the answer they were expecting.

Morales then asked: "Were you carrying this wallet when you were detained by ATF officers?"

I recognized the brown leather wallet put on the table in front of me. "That looks like my wallet, but I would need to check the contents."

With a sarcastic tone, Morales continued: "Let me help you. I will pull out the contents. We have here a California driver's license with what looks like your photo and the name of Wyatt John Spence. Also, a Visa Card for a Wyatt J. Spence. Are these yours?"

"Yes. They are cards issued to me by the FBI for my undercover identity." Once again, the ATF officers just looked at me. Detecting their disbelief, I asked: "Could you please contact Senior Special Agent James Morris of the Los Angeles FBI at the Federal Building. He can confirm my identity."

I could see that Morales doubted my voracity as he said: "We don't need to bother him. We can confirm your identity with our fingerprint check. That currently takes about 3-5 days. I am confident they will have yours on file."

I wasn't certain if they were deliberately playing with me, but I answered: "Well you cannot detain me that long without arresting me ... and arresting me would be embarrassing if I am an FBI agent." I immediately saw Morales's annoyance as if I was being cheeky.

I then decided this should not continue. "I demand my Miranda rights to have Senior Special Agent James Morris represent me before I continue answering questions. Besides, I have intelligence that I need to urgently give him."

With almost a snarl, Morales replied: "Your Miranda rights give you the right to have a lawyer. That doesn't mean you can have anyone else you want."

I was now starting to get angry. Then in as controlled a manner as I could muster, I suggested: "Perhaps you should check before you get yourself charged. Morris is also a qualified lawyer." I now lay back in my chair displaying a stubborn pose. I hoped they understood my determination to cease answering questions.

After a few moments of trying to stare me down. Morales stood up and Robinson followed as they headed for the door. As I was still restrained in handcuffs which I knew could not be justified, I asked: "Would you mind bringing me a coffee ... white with one sugar, please? It has been a long time since breakfast."

After Robinson departed, Morales slammed the door.

It was more than another hour before the door opened again. This time it was just Robinson. He placed a mug of coffee on the table and then said: "Lean forward please." He held a handcuff key.

Once he released me, I gave my wrists a rub and then asked: "Is the coffee for me?"

"Yes ... of course. I am sorry about all this. I would ask that you remain here a little longer as my boss, Special Agent Morales, says you can't go until you have been positively identified by the FBI. Senior Special Agent Morris is on his way over now."

"Thank you," was all I could muster as a response.

"It is perhaps not the welcome we would normally have given you, however, please understand that one of Special Agent Morales friends was shot in the raid this morning."

"Oh ... I'm sorry to hear that ... how badly?"

"Were hopeful."

Half an hour later James Morris, Robinson and another older gentleman entered the room. Morris looked happy and shook my hand, but before he could speak Robinson intervened by saying: "May I introduce Special Agent in Charge Wozniak. He is the head of the Los Angeles Field Division."

"With this introduction, Wozniak leaned forward and offered his hand before saying: "I believe we owe you an apology and our thanks. My colleague here, Senior Special Agent James Morris says you have been undercover on this assignment for over five months."

"Yes ... five months is too long to give up a normal life."

"Don't worry Mark," Morris began. "We just want to ask some questions, have you record your statement, before we restore you to normality."

"Sure ... anything to help."

Morris then outlined the current situation. "This morning's raid has probably caused a hiccup to the import of these weapons. The ATF also detained Earl Marino who wasn't badly wounded. Victor Lawrence was arrested at a cheap boarding house. We just need to track down the rest of Earl's gang and most importantly the Wyoming Group your message indicated would be buying the weapons next Tuesday."

"Yes, I had assumed the Bureau would hold off until we had those details."

Morris looked a little chagrined as he said: "Unfortunately we have had a little coordination problem between the Bureau and the ATF. We were not totally au fait with one another's plans."

"We are still investigating the cause, but it appears that our operations center did not pass on the necessary information to Special Agent Morales to enable better teamwork," Wozniak explained. "We are now all cooperating to ensure that we capture this Wyoming Group."

I took a moment to gather all my thoughts before explaining, "We need to find a Hank O'Reilly who is with the Wyoming Group. He is the cousin of Bill O'Reilly. Their fathers were twins."

"Is this Bill O'Reilly one of Earl's gang?" Wozniak asked.

"Yes. Bill started working with Earl just before I joined, over a week ago."

"That is good. We had the name Bill but not his last name," Wozniak explained.

"I expect Bill O'Reilly is shacked up with Terry ... I don't know his last name ..." then I remembered Brandy "... but I can find out, if I can make a phone call. The last thing they were doing was disposing of Tyrone's body ... I don't know his last name either."

"We know Terry's name, also Tyrone's. This is the Tyrone that you shot?" Wozniak asked

I suddenly felt cold. Somewhat unsettled, I asked: "How did you know that?"

Awkwardly Wozniak replied: "That is part of our coordination failure. Our agent Halifax has provided a full report. Don't worry ... it was clearly self-defense. I shouldn't tell you more as we will require your own independent report for corroboration."

Of course, I was now distracted wondering who Halifax was. Had Earl seen me shoot Tyrone and given this up during interrogation? Had someone else seen me? They had captured Victor, so could it be him?

I then remembered Earl's answering service. "You may be able to trick the remainder of the gang into the open by leaving a message on an answering service 888-588-5858. Getting Earl's cooperation may be useful. That's all I can remember for the moment."

"While I am tracking down the cousins Hank and Bill O'Reilly, we need you to record your statement beginning from when you commenced working for Earl," Morris explained. Turning to the others, he asked: "Can we get Mark a laptop or workstation?"

Robinson volunteered: "I will get the laptop. I will organize some sandwiches as well."

As Wozniak stood up, he said: "I will leave you to your writing, but once I have read it, we will talk again. Just let Special Agent Robinson know if you need anything."

They were all leaving the room, but I indicated for Morris to wait a moment. As the door closed after the others left, I asked: "What about the shooting of Alejandro and his men?"

"You provided a written statement for the record. More than a week had passed before we were able to investigate the event. To maintain your cover, we had the LAPD examine the scene. All they could find were paint stains on the floor and two potential bullet holes in the building's metal siding. It appears the entire site had been cleaned up."

"What will happen now?"

"We have no bodies and other than your statement, no evidence that anything happened. The LAPD used your statement to obtain a warrant to raid Alejandro's home and businesses. They have accumulated sufficient evidence to implicate Alejandro for murder, motor vehicle theft, drug distribution, larceny and extorsion ... just to name a few. They have closed down his establishments. Officially they are conducting further investigations; unofficially they are happy that he is no longer a player."

"Will there be a hearing over the shooting?"

"In order to close the case, the Bureau will conduct an internal review. I wouldn't worry about it. From what you have detailed in your report, you will be questioned as to what alternatives you may have had other than using deadly force. I don't believe you had any alternatives, so the review will rubber stamp your actions."

I felt some relief with what Morris explained. On many sleepless nights, I had repeatedly reviewed my decision with the same outcome. My instincts and training lead me to this result.

After Morris left, I was moved to a vacant workstation. Here I set about detailing everything that had occurred over the last eight days. Statements are meant to be only about factual matters, however in justifying my own actions I had to continually amend my words to add additional detail.

I had to mention Brandy, but I emphasized that she had been co-opted to do her part; not that she was a volunteer. I also added that she must have regretted her actions as she urged me not to continue with the plan and to leave the gang. I hopped this would provide the necessary mitigation to lessen any interest the authorities might have in chasing her if she disappeared.

When I had finished, Robinson organized the email of my statement to Morris and Wozniak. I signed two copies: one for the file and one for the legal brief.

It was now getting late in the day, but I had to wait to meet Wozniak again. I started thinking about Brandy. I found the hotel phone number and tried to call to let her know I was fine. When I asked to have my call transferred through to our room, the hotel receptionist said that room was vacant. I had him check the details again. He then informed me the Mrs Spence had checked out early this morning.

I was dumbfounded. I started rationalizing by considering legitimate reasons for her to leave. She wouldn't have left unless forced to. Maybe she heard about the raid through the media and was concerned that I would divulge her location?

Then I recalled Earl's comment about the 'John' that raved about her and even asked her to marry him. Could Brandy have simply been having fun with me before she disappeared?

I decided to try Brandy's answering service. I called Julia and left a recorded message that I was fine. I didn't have a cell phone, so I said that I would call back with a contact number.

I was then called to the office of the Special Agent in Charge. Wozniak was waiting for me and asked me to take a seat. Robinson was also present. Wozniak began with: "I have read your report. It is quite comprehensive and is consistent with Special Agent Halifax's report."

"Thank you."

"That is with one minor difference in emphasis. You suggest that this Brandy Alexander was naively induced into participating. Halifax says it was a deliberate strategy of hers. She had persuaded Rosie to put her name forward."

"I didn't know that detail. I only described how it appeared to me."

"Of course, however Halifax would know her own motives best," Wozniak concluded.

Suddenly something appeared incongruous. Halifax was a woman! "Who exactly is your Special Agent Halifax?"

"You spent two days keeping a check on each other. You honestly didn't know that Halifax was undercover as Brandy Alexander?"

I could almost feel the blood drain from my face as my brain dealt with the shock. "Did Brandy ... did Halifax know who I was?"

"It appears that she didn't."

I searched back through all our conversations to consider if there were any clues. Then the enormity of her role struck me. A sense of indignity swelling up inside prompted me to exclaim: "Do you mean that you assigned her the task of being a hooker?"

Wozniak's slow smile didn't calm me until he explained: "We asked a select number of female agents if they would be prepared to be 'RatSnakes'. That is a name we use to describe undercover officers. The role was to be a stripper and Halifax volunteered. Once she started, she decided she needed to pretend to be a prostitute to gain employment with Earl."

"Pretend! She apparently had a stream of regular clients."

"Yes, it has cost my office $1,000 a day for the last two month to send in agents to just sit in her room for two hours. This has put a huge hole in my budget. What's more, I will only be able to reclaim about half of that amount back."

I now felt much calmer, however I still had more questions. "How did you track us to the Recycling Center."

"GPS Tracker."

"But I thoroughly searched the Ford for hidden trackers."

"Halifax placed a small GPS Tracker in the money bag and let us know the approximate time for the transfer." I now recalled her insistence on us placing the money in the blue bag.

My respect for Brandy, whatever her name, grew even more. "Wow! She is some performer!"

"The best," agreed Wozniak.

"What is her full name then?"

"She is Julia Halifax."

"Can I see her?"

"If she was here, I would say yes. She came in early this morning and as the raid was proceeding, she wrote her report. She waited to hear the outcome and then left on leave. I am only now starting to understand why she demanded immediate leave. She checked to hear the status of casualties and then she left."

"Where can I find her?"

"I am not quite certain, but she said something about recuperating with her aunt. Strictly I shouldn't be giving you her contact details, however I am guessing there is a special case here. Her phone number is 828-294-7361."

Recognizing the number, I commented: "Don't worry. You haven't broken any protocol. She gave me that number also."

"Is there anything further I can do for you?"

I looked outside at the city in darkness. Until all the gang members were arrested, I considered it would be foolish to go back to the cheap apartment I had been using for the past five months. My real identity was held in a locker in the Federal Building, but after-hours access would be difficult.

"Could I impose on you for a bed tonight? Even a cell will do. I will then be able to get a cab to the Federal Building tomorrow where my ID and some belongings are stored. I also need my wallet returned plus my bag that was in the Ford pickup. I also had a pistol that one of your agents collected at the scene."

"We should be able to fix up something better than a cell. Your pistol may not be available today as it will be with forensics, however Special Agent Robinson will look after everything you need."

As Robinson was showing me to a bed I asked: "Do you know Julia Halifax well?"

"I have not worked with her, but we have met often. We spoke this morning?"

"So, she said she would visit her aunt in Oregon."

"I didn't get the impression she was heading to Oregon. She said it was a 4-hour 44-minute flight, Robinson explained. "You know she was quite depressed. I am sure that was why leave was granted so quickly. She even hinted that she needed some time with hickory to calm her problems ... you know ... meaning being under the influence of marijuana. Mind you, I didn't take her seriously."

"No ... that doesn't sound like her. One thing is certain, Julia is too strong a personality to need marijuana."

After Robinson left for home, I lay back on the bed wondering where Julia may have gone. I was starting to fully comprehend how she may have felt this morning. I would just have to keep trying her phone number.

In the morning I had a large breakfast at a diner before catching a cab to the Federal Building. In the lobby I had to call for James Morris to come down and sign me into the building. I was then able to access my locker in the basement. I took a shower and put on some fresh clothes before retrieving my ID, driver's license, credit card and cell phone. I repacked my bag with some better clothes and felt I was ready to return to my own life.

Upstairs in Morris's office we reviewed my report. He was more than satisfied and said they already had leads on the O'Reilly cousins. When he asked what I wanted to do now, he quickly granted my request for some leave. As I had given up my nice apartment when I went undercover, I effectively had no home. This just made it easy for me to decide to visit my parents in Barnwell, South Carolina.

Before leaving, I sat at my old workstation and tried Julia's phone number again. Hearing just the answering machine, I left my phone number. While waiting for my cell phone to be recharged, I considered my options.

Wondering where she could have flown to, I started googling flight times from LAX. Washington DC, Richmond, Norfolk, Columbia, Augusta, and Tampa were all just too far. So was Hawaii in the opposite direction. Detroit, Pittsburgh, Cleveland and Atlanta were just too short. Only Jacksonville and Charlotte were about the right flight time.