Not Quite a White Knight Vol. 04.2

We were dealing with the FBI, so in public they claimed to identify and convict these criminals without them violating anybody's rights. But you know, there are times when former agents are hired to help their buddies in special cases.

The other contact information was also used, in a way that was more sensitive and less public. Innocents who needed help got it.

The FBI wanted us to produce Crow, so they could parade him as they used him to build the case. Any story gets more pop with film of a perp being paraded before the law. But as soon as they had him Crow would get a lawyer who was duty bound to get the best deal he could for the guy, and since he merited the death penalty we could not abide that. In our care Crow would live for a time, but it would never be a good day, his last day would be terrible, and he would never leave the prison alive. It was better for us that way.

Afterwards we could get assurances to his victims, where the Feds would take decades letting the poor kids live in fear and uncertainty about their monster.

Cleaning up the slime is a job better left to Mr. Clean, and it never hurts to have the good guys owe you a favor. There is a system to verify these things while keeping them confidential. Mark wasn't greedy, but he worked the system for us both. Since the FBI got 30 very serious bent bad folks off the street directly using the data, along with many fellow travelers based on flips, Mark and I each earned a number of "get out of jail free" cards for any less serious crimes we might be charged with, state or federal. They also gave us the right to void some subpoenas, which was actually more valuable to law abiding folks. It doesn't sound like much of a trade from our side, but it was better than nothing, and the Feds were really giving us blank checks for all kinds of crimes. Unlike some of their brethren in the field offices, who are a mixed bag and kind wind up owing too much to real bad people, FBI cyber folks are good people to deal with. It is a sad world we live in, but these good people are always too busy in a fast-moving cyber-world to play silly political and PR games with the press, so it is the political time waster's who advance quickly and respond to trivial requests from political operatives.

On the other hand, I move drugs, steal, am planning a $50 million robbery and was known to kill bad folks, so if the less skilled folks in law enforcement get promoted, it is not exactly making my life harder, is it?

Getting the pervert info took only an hour, then we focused on the Aztex plan for 49.

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Chapter 15. Sicko Aztex Plan

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Crow (born Charles Robert Oliver Wright of Houston, third son in a rich family who would get him a good Texas lawyer, except he would not live that long), got his start cutting PCP by hand in 7th grade, the gloves the regular crooks used were too big for him to wear so he did without. After an 8 hour day he was cutting, mixing and packing like a fiend. He was a success at something he liked to do. This put him on a bad road. With his family wealth and a few lucky contacts he moved quickly to the fast lane. Now he was 42 and his face looked like Keith Richards will look at 94, assuming an improper embalming when his time comes.

After giving us the pervert data Irene suggested he needed a bit more sun, so he was rolled out again. She had something else in mind.

While he was baking Irene laid out a quick plan to tap into the Aztex's communications system. It was genius so I gave approval.

When the soldiers brought Crow into the room for his second session of the morning it was not empty, Nia was there, dressed in revealing sleepwear and made up like she was 15. (She is almost 20, but is small so the disguise was not hard.) She was on a laptop computer.

Rojas yelled at her to get out. She cried that she just wanted to chat with her cool boyfriend but Rojas kept yelling and she dashed out of the room, showing Crow and the others her bare bottom while leaving the computer open on the table.

The guys chained Crow down and left the room, Rojas yanked off his belt and said he was going to "give that girl hell." The other soldier said he needed a bathroom. So they left Crow alone.

Crow saw a chance for hope, and he took it.

Straining and struggling, drawing blood where steel and flesh met, Crow eventually got a finger on the laptop computer and pulled it toward him. He signed into the Aztex dark web site, then signed into his private email where he typed a short message telling a local Aztex handler Tony was dead and Crow was captured. Help!

It was a setup. The screen he got when he logged in was a dummy. Irene was on a computer connected directly to Nia's laptop, along with a second computer tied to the web via a Russia proxy in India. She mirrored Crow's actions to get the screens showing what he expected to see like he was actually connected to the web. She was fast (she directed supersonic rockets) and Crow figured the delay was a slow wi-fi. The rig was all set up so Irene capturing everything Crow sent.

We needed the dark web addresses and the sign-in/password/verification codes he used. They were simple, a shifting code that referenced the date, but it is the little things that count. Once we had those we sent a slightly different message saying that Tony was shot and Crow had been detained. It explained that Crow had manage to escape "some sharks" after a brush with death. He had the help of a young black girl, the rebellious daughter of a shark officer. To Crow it was true love, at least for this week. With the help of the girl's BFF they stole a crappy car. He was healing from his wounds in a house in Santa Anna, expressing his love to the lucky lady and her best girlfriend the way he knew best. For their own safety they were handcuffed together so they could share all the fun. It was the type of thing Crow would say and it would keep the Aztecs from looking for Crow and Tony.

After the deception was finished I had Crow moved to another room with something else on the table. The laptop Nia had left was broken by Crow after he used it, he thought that his use could not be traced on a broken computer.

To make it look like we were really upset about the computer, Rojas asked Crow which hand he jerked off with, then took a hammer to Crow's other hand.

Of course, Crow lied to Rojas about which hand he used, and suffered accordingly.

An hour later Crow's email account got an message to remind him that the local Aztex brass was flying from Van Nuys airport (which serves mainly private planes) to Houston August 23. Crow was expected to show. The elites of the gang were flying from Houston to the party site in Mexico on Thursday August 28th to get the party started. They wanted to show off their newest plane, a Kodiak STOL (Short Take Off + Landing), which they could land in the parking lot. That was a new plane worth over $2 million.

I added it to our cart for whatever was going to happen. It would be a nice new ride.

We took a 30 minute break after the first talk but left Crow in the chair to stew.

To keep Crow on track for the rest of the morning I invited the spiders to the table. I called them "observers." They were in a large glass box that was filled with thick smoke like they were vaping. A tube from a steam device kept the smoke going. Irene whipped up the simple device with stuff we had here and it was a perfect touch. All I had to do was touch the glass, like something noteworthy had been asked and Crow got real focused.

Crow was an Aztex in Houston for over 15 years. His scars indicated a violent past sprinkled with a few lab explosions, but for the past decade he was considered their prime meth-chemist. (Any meth-chemist who reach Crow's career hours had to be both skilled and lucky.) He came to LA to set up some meth manufacturing locations. He had a reputation for safe setups that produced good quality product. Eventually the plan was to build a large factory, big enough to supply demand from the West Coat to Colorado. He would consult with a few other cookers once they knew what the space looked like, since the gang was making an investment a safe operation was a prime concern. At present they had capacity to supply all of LA, plus more than half of the product was shipped to "dry" areas where the law had cut production. They were operating at 10%-20% to keep the accidents down, plus they were limited in cookers and inputs. They were doing training with double staffs and trying to partner with a supplier from the Orient.

I said that investing in a meth factory had two problems: chemical odor and search warrants. The big investments get found so most cooks keep their locations small and mobile.

Well, Tony's bitch of a wife convinced the Aztex leaders that the Pablo apartment building was an ideal high-rise meth factory, and they wanted it. With civilians living on the lower floors the place was impossible for police to stage a no-knock raid, and they figured that chemical fumes produced high up would dissipate. (This was true, we cooked a lot of highest quality party drugs there.) They had spotted that the building was a deathtrap for any airborne attacks (tall poles stick up like giant punji sticks to discourage helicopters), they figured there had to be a reason for that. Plus, they were convinced it was fireproofed like no other comparable building in LA. They were right on all counts.

The key to taking the Pablo was the Aztex plan was to break 49 as a gang. To do that they planned a large suicide attack on Labor Day Monday, when many folks would be at the beach or on vacation and police were tired from working overtime in the heat and traffic during the long weekend. Heavy traffic and wide dispersal would kill police response time. They thought a large enough group (100 to 150) of drug-crazed maniacs with automatic weapons could break in and cause pure havoc and mayhem until they ran out of ammo. The body count would bring masses of police inside the front door.

The Aztexs figured that if 49 could not protect their home and families the members would lose confidence in their leadership, so they would look for new leadership in the form of a merger - which is what we had been discussing. Also, they were sure that, on entry, the cops would find lots of criminal activity (they would) leading to the arrest of the 49 leadership and many members who might object to the merger. Once 49 crumbled the Crystal Aztexs leaders figured they could walk right in with the right pay-offs. Well, they were from Houston, LA was different, power was spread wider and payoffs were bigger, you had to pay black, brown and white in each district. Also, Hollywood bid up the prices in a big way.

Clearly they did not understand our structure, in fact no attack could get past the gatling guns and flame throwers guarding the front door. (Toad had seen Mad Max 2 - The Road Warrior, too many times.) If they attacked with 150, they would lose 150. But the problem was, they would still win. They had the part about the police getting in the building right. Simply put, cops never entered the building thanks to the political ties (judges) Toad held. Plus, cops never connected the dots required to have probable cause to enter, which LA cop superiors are pretty strict about, thanks to the rich LA "sue the cops" lawyers.

The apartment building was a fortress with strong outer defenses. I saw the main Aztex problem as getting heavily armed, meth-crazed troops to the fortress, without shooting each other to pieces before they got there. These were not soldiers, they would not obey orders but would blow up at their fellows with every perceived slight.

But still, an armed attack - which would fail at the front door even without our nastiest defenses - would change things after all the bodies dropped. The police would come. So would news helicopters and we could not keep them out without a war.

Last year, before starting the divorce, Tony's bitch ex-wife sold the other meth-head Aztex leaders on this plan, so they were committed to the Pablo as "this years rage project." The timing of the holiday was what everything rested on.

That was the first I heard of a "rage" project. It had not come up in the merger talks. Tony said he was sworn to secrecy on the subject.

It seems that every year the Aztexs had a three-day psycho blow-out party in the Yucatan when the elites rev up the membership and bring them together with a sicko show. Once they are excited beyond reason a task is set. Then they add the zombie drugs needed to move the drooling masses towards a common purpose. Loaded weapons are distributed just before they are needed.

This year's gathering would be the largest and craziest project ever. The first two days were moderated by the presence of a few other family members. But before noon Sunday any wives and kids left and the kool-aid got a lot stronger with an Aztex-styled blood-drug-rally session. The festival culminating at midnight Sunday with a floodlit human sacrifice on the pyramid, contributing to a blood-drug-drink concoction that was consumed on the spot. Then the party moved quickly to a direct action. The shock troops got a dose of PCP and ammo just before they went into action.

I never heard about these parties before because in previous years it was always local gang-on-gang things in Texas, with much smaller groups of zombies (two dozen of so) in play. That type of detailed news did not travel as the cops clamped a lid on it. They had never done LA because the local chapter was too small. This was, by far, the most ambitious action ever, manpower was projected at 6 times as large as the previous biggest action. They were convinced the pay off was much, much larger.

They were planning a suicide attack on the Pablo to kill as many innocents as possible, and I could not let that happen. Fortunately the entrance to the Pablo is a well-constructed killing ground. However, that would work against us when the attack would bring police into the building, and that was actually the bigger danger. Police took a dim view of military machine guns with rotating-barrels and military-quality flame-throwers in civilian hands - they could be used on the cops! As was pointed out in the classic 1979 Walter Hill movie "The Warriors," the biggest gang in any city is the cops, and their first job is to keep it that way.

If the building was a crime scene most of the legal protections we counted on went away, no detailed warrant was required. (Yes, it is strange to say the right of privacy cannot be breeched by the police, but any low-rent criminal can open your doors to the cops by making it a crime scene.) Also, the press would take nasty handouts and videos from the cops on anything they found, that was fodder for annual budget debates. I would not have that, I would use my soldiers and military weapons like recoilless rifles mounted on an APC to take out a police station or two before I would allow that.

Like I said: war. Actually, since I would lose the Pablo, it would be a covering action to clear my people out, and pay off the people we had grudges against.

None of the Aztex leaders knew our defenses, but since their strategy was "drug-induced crazies attack with full automatic weapons" we would have a lot of dead Aztex bodies piled up.

I asked for more details about this three-day party and the conversation got seriously strange.

To whip up their soldiers for a suicide attack a rally/drugfest/drink-the-crazy-koolaid rave with a DJ and a human sacrifice spectacle with multiple victims would take place in Mexico beforehand, on Sunday night, the third night. The Aztex elite did an annual "Pyramid" ceremony run by the serious head cases and attended by all crazies wearing warpaint and not much else. This year Tony was supposed to be the sacrificial guest star, with one or two "opening acts" to wind the crowd up for Tony's big finish, and because they needed more blood for the wacko koolaid.

His role in this was news to Tony. It seemed his wife planned the surprise because a divorce did not really suit her needy grasping desires. She planned to actually rip his living heart out and squeeze his blood into a punch bowl while he watched with eyes open, adding the final touch to the drinks given to everybody.

It was why she was not sweating about her lousy divorce lawyer.

Clearly, Tony had picked a special girl to marry.

The plan is that they would drug him, then after a rape of a co-star (Crow was fuzzy on that part, it was to be an unprecedented surprise) the "High Priestess" (his unloving wife) would stuff him with a couple Viagra, mount him at the top of the pyramid where everybody could see, then work her way to a special climax using a chest spreader to pull out his beating heart and drink his blood mixed with a so-called native drink that was mainly cheap rum and cheaper tequila. The plan was always for 2 sacrifices, a man and a woman, so there was enough blood for the masses. Crow did not know who the others would be, it was supposed to be a surprise. The blood-drug-booze cocktail would be distributed to the foot soldiers, to excite and energize. Like communion wine, it would be passed down the pyramid to all the naked screaming warriors who would then party all night.

As part of the festivities about two dozen professional girls (Mexican) wearing bags over their heads would be provided to the party. They would be drugged for heavy use and traditionally did not see the sunrise. The girls were selected and priced accordingly, it was Mexico after all. The annual event gave the brothels a chance to clear out their inventories of difficult and underperforming girls. The hoods covered the faces, so looks really didn't matter. Given the roughly 7-to-1 male/female ratio at these things, buggery of the party girls, party goers, and the dead was likely.

It was all good times, just like the the original Aztecs, but without a tackle-basketball game ahead of time to provide the sacrifice.

We had to stop it.

I mentioned that it sounded like a real special holiday. "They have everything but fireworks," I said.

Crow corrected me, "Oh, they have great fireworks to light up the sacrifices. They use spotlights too but the fireworks are great... whole banks of rockets are used. I hear they will have bigger and brighter ones this year from somebody... some kind of special friends."

Wasn't that interesting? "Chinese friends?"

"Well, yes, I guess! Oriental anyways, it doesn't pay to ask questions. How did you know?"

There were asian gangs in LA. Most where pure-blooded and confined to a given area. One exception was a female gang called TKTM (They Kill Their Masters) where most are black-oriental mix and call themselves "bastarts" for obvious reasons. But an isolated poor person with half-oriental blood is basically a target in most gang neighborhoods. There were rumors of these "isolateds" forming a wide-area gang, they just needed a nexus. Still, that didn't feel right.

Then I recalled Tony's mention of Asian hard cases looking over his neighborhood. So I asked if he had seen any of their tats. I had once double-crossed some Asian gangs that tried to cheat, steal from, and kill me.

Those Asian gangs tend to have long memories for insults and I had laid a pretty big loss on them when they tried me. I always assumed they have no idea who I am. Now I was not so sure.

I also had to consider that some outside group was using the Aztexs as a front to get a foothold in LA. That actually made more sense, if they could supply the precursor chemicals on a large scale they would need a safe facility for production. The Aztexs would do the heavy lifting and take the risk while the Asians would supply a little hard-to-get raw material, cash, some weapons, and reap the rewards. That was something I could believe.