Pink Lemonade Ch. 04

The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 15 - Rescue

When I began working with the Town & County Police Department, it had been the I.T. and Data room, with my office in the corner. Now it was a Command Post for Police Operations, with stations for radio communications, maps to follow police vehicles, and a couple of computer consoles. It was on these consoles that Myron Milton and his wife Mary Mahoney Milton were working furiously to bring up data.

A witness in the neighborhood where Priya had been captured had reported seeing a KSTD News van going down the street some minutes before all the Police arrived. It made sense that Priya would stop if she thought she was seeing a KSTD van wrecked against a telephone pole. KSTD said that none of their vans were unaccounted for. Myron and Mary had just confirmed that.

"Sir," said Myron, "is there anything you can think of to have us look up?"

I thought about it, knowing what I had to say, and knowing what the possible cost might be. I knew that didn't matter, and if Priya died her blood would be on my hands.

"My wife's cellphone." I said. "Locate my wife's cellphone."

"Whaaa?" Mary said, looking up at me.

"I'm sorry, did I stutter?" I said, much more harshly than I should have.

"Uh, no sir." Mary said, returning to her typing. A moment later she said "All of your wife's cellphones are pinging off three towers around the University. Triangulation shows it's in the Psychology Building. I don't know the layout, but I'd bet they're in her office."

"I won't bet against you." I said. "Okay, so she left them there." I was thinking as hard as I could, and Cindy peering at me was not helping. I glanced over at her, hard. She just shook her head, and I wasn't sure what she was trying to convey by that.

"All right." I finally said. "Do we have any way of finding unusual radio transmissions?"

"No sir." said Mary. "Well, let me put it this way: there are thousands of transmissions out there, from cell phones to police radios to ham radios to computer-generated radio signals. It would take something on a military level to distinguish anything, and we have nothing anywhere near that capability."

Myron sat up straight and blinked. Then he looked up at me and said "Sir, can I speak to you alone a minute?"

"Sure." I said. Cindy was not pleased.

"Why can't you say it in front of us?" she demanded.

"If it's what I think it is, he's correct not to." I said. "And don't ever ask him about it again. That is an order, Captain." Cindy did not say anything further. Maybe she trusted me. Or maybe she realized who she'd be fucking with and this was not the time, especially as I'd just thrown my own wife under the bus.

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

"Sir," said Myron quietly when we went into what had been my office in the Downstairs Dungeon, "you know that my father has no love lost for the CIA. He was tracking the transmissions from the top of the Federal Building off Courthouse Square for a long time. They change them up from time to time, and he can't decode the transmissions, but he knows the frequency ranges."

"And he'll tell them to you?" I asked, hope surging through my soul.

"No sir." Myron said. "But one of my first hacking jobs was to break into the file he recorded that stuff in. I won't repeat the language he used when he caught me, but I remember those numbers." It took a moment for me to stop laughing.

"How will you look for radio transmissions in those ranges?" I asked. "That takes special equipment we don't have."

"Commander, did you hear the story about the Stealth Bomber?" asked Myron. As I peered at him, he said "They did all that work to make them invisible to radar... and 400 miles out, they do disappear from radar. But someone in England found out that the microwaves used for the cellphone system could be used to detect the Stealth Bombers... and it worked. All that technology rendered useless by something as simple as that."

"Why don't you just give me the Cliff Notes of your plan before they kill Priya?" I said.

Myron blanched as he realized the stakes, and said "I have a ham radio in my office that I tweaked to extended ranges. The Police Headquarters radio tower can detect them, and we now have towers at each Precinct Headquarters from which we can triangulate these transmissions, using ham radios at each site and my computer connected with them. We'll see what frequency the Building in Courthouse Square is using, then look for it elsewhere in Town."

"Good thing you have no desire to work for a lot of money for the Federal Government." I said. "I couldn't match their salaries, and I really want to keep you here, Myron."

"No worries, Commander." said Myron, and I knew he was being genuine when he added "I'll never leave while I'm working with the Iron Crowbar."

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

Laura was almost numb. She'd allow Priya to go into unconsciousness, and started a saline IV to keep the Indian woman from dehydrating... and of course the catheter to drain Priya at the other end as her bladder was overwhelmed.

"Well, that's that." said Casey B. Walker. "We have to arrest Burke now. Right now. Bring him in for interrogation."

"Are you really as stupid as that sounded?" Diana hissed. "We have no idea who Burke is working with or why he told Priya about the tapes... which were made by his brother, by the way."

"We have to find out what Burke knows." said Walker. "And what kind of threat he is to us."

"He's not a threat." said Laura angrily. "And if you don't know that, it's because you've failed at your job and you are not keeping up."

"Says the woman who's husband's nephew is Todd Burke." Walker said, fury etched upon his features. "Maybe your husband is disloyal, too. He refused to join us three times."

Laura squared up, her eyes boring onto Walker. Her hand went to her pocket. "If you accuse my husband of disloyalty to his country ever again, I will kill you myself."

Diana got between them. "Dr. Walker, your insinuation is unfounded. Commander Troy is a loyal as well as brilliant man. Laura, Walker is right about one thing: we have to investigate Todd Burke."

"Investigate away." said Laura. "But not by overreacting and hauling him in, much less applying our interrogation techniques to him. If you did and my husband ever found out about that..." She let the sentence hang.

"Or what?" snarled Walker. "What is a local cop going to do to us? And whose side are you on, Fredricson?"

"My husband's" Laura said simply. "And you know it, because I've already told you that."

"Walker," said Diana, getting angry herself, "you may have forgotten that the Iron Crowbar is an FBI Consultant, and has the support of the exact people in the FBI that are your worst nightmares. May I suggest serious circumspection in this matter? Now go back to Langley and do your job, but do it carefully and slowly."

Diana then motioned for Gagnon and Griswold to come up. "Take Dr. Walker back to Langley. Make sure he goes straight there." Walker glared at both women, but left with the young men.

Just then another young man, who had been outside, came in and said to Diana "Police are coming, ma'am. We've monitored their radio traffic, and they're coming to this address."

"Yes, Doctor, the Iron Crowbar is demonstrating his abilities to me yet again." said Diana, peering at Laura. " Let's go. Leave Ajmani here."

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

I was about to lead the small group into the warehouse. I had Cindy (there could be no doubt), Martin Nash, Sandra Speer, Sergeant Micah Rudistan and Sr. Patrolman Morton with me.

Just as I was about to lead the group in, Rudistan whispered "Commander, you're not going to make me sit on you again, are you?" I knew what he meant: I would not be allowed to go first, no matter what. And Rudistan was just the mouthpiece for one Cindy Ross on this matter.

"All right." I said. "You and Morton have your vests on?"

"Double vests." Rudistan said. "You don't think I'm really this fat, do you Commander?"

"You don't want me to answer that, do you, Rudistan?" I countered, making Rudistan grin. "Okay, go!"

Rudistan and Morton led the way into the warehouse. It was empty, well-lit, and surprisingly clean. It could almost be made into a mobile surgical hospital, if need be. The warehouse was in the northern parts of the Warehouse District, almost to the southern part of the Downtown District.

Everyone else led the way in, fanning out with guns drawn and pointed outward. I holstered my gun and just walked in with the red crowbar.

"It's clear, Commander." I heard Cindy say after everyone had checked the premises. Sandra and I were checking on the woman on the gurney: it was Priya Ajmani.

"She's alive." Sandra said. "Seems to be okay."

"Why don't you let the doctor make that prognosis?" came a familiar voice behind me. I whirled around. Laura was coming in the door, her hands raised as police officers had whirled to train weapons upon her.

"Stand down, guys." I said. My officers lowered their weapons, but were still wary as they looked around the perimeter. "Okay Doctor..." I said to Laura, our eyes boring into each other's, "what do you want to do with this patient? Hospital?"

"Let's just keep her here until the IV bag is empty." said Laura. "Then we can take her to her home and leave her in bed."

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

At 3:30am, we got home. Cindy took Jenna back to their home. As we sat on the den sofa, Bowser decided to sit down right in front of us and watch us.

I hugged Laura and said "Honey, I love you much more than I love our dog, but I have no questions about his loyalties right now, if you get my drift."

"Yeah, I know." Laura said wearily. "And if you think you're juggling a lot of shit and competing forces..."

"Yeah, I know." I said. "So I would guess that Priya knows about the 'wet jobs', and she got the information from Henry Wargrave, seeing as he told Ferrell and Ikea, who tried to find the rifle at Ward Harvester. He must've told her but then said not to use the info until after his death."

"Close." Laura said. "He had a letter to her delivered after his death. Revenge on me, and maybe you, from beyond the grave."

"Figures." I said. "How bad is the damage?"

"I think Katherine Woodburn is going to put a leash on Priya for us." Laura said. "You're always railing about how politicians are in bed with each other rather than serving their constituents... we have ways of taking advantage of that."

"Okay." I said. "So what else is bothering you?"

"Not much gets by the legendary Iron Crowbar, Bowser." Laura said to the dog. Bowser wagged his tail and I bent over and gave him a good petting.

"I am... betraying my Company for the first time in my life by telling you this." Laura said. "Do you know who gave Priya the information about the Burke tapes?"

"Oh that?" I said. "That was Todd." Laura just stared at me.

"See, you didn't have to betray anything, after all." I said. "Todd gave Priya that information at the request of his mother. I'm not sure why, but she wanted the distraction. I've been wondering what Elizabeth is up to, but I think she's in France right now."

"Damn," said Laura, "I told them to let you handle this, but they said nooooo, it was much bigger than a local LEO. We just overcommitted to a very dangerous thing, and it was for nothing."

"And now they're going to investigate Todd and cause even more nuisance." I said. "I did tell Todd that something like this was a possibility. He's on guard, and if they try anything..." I shook my head... "then they'll be wishing they were dealing with 'local LEOs' with crowbars instead."

Part 16 - Exposure

1:30am, Saturday night, actually Sunday morning, August 16th. The Cub Club in the heart of the Tenderloin District was the heart of the Punk Scene. This was not the most trendy or rockin' of the various clubs, but it was about two-thirds full of young people in various states of leather dress and strange makeup, drinking and socializing, talking about cosplay and the effects of hallucinogenic drugs, and looking for partners... or groups... for sexual encounters.

One young woman with pink streaks in her hair was talking to two other women when a fat man in a trenchcoat approached the table. "Well, hiya, Lorena!" he said loudly.

"Who the fuck are you?" the pink-streaked woman said. "My name is Roberta, fat man."

"Oh come on, you're my coworker in the Police Force, Lorena Rose." the fat man said.

"Police?" said one of the other women, her eyes staring daggers. "And who the fuck are you, mister?"

"I'm a Detective with the Police Force, Sergeant Sharples." said the fat man. "I work with this woman."

"You fat son of a bitch!" Lorena said, throwing her drink into Sharples's face. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you stay the hell away from me!" She turned to leave.

"Where you going, lady?" said a large black man, blocking Lorena's path to the door. "You police?"

"Get the fuck out of my way." said Lorena. She realized that she was being slowly surrounded.

"Yeah, she's a cop!" shouted Sharples. "What's the big fucking deal?"

"We don't like cops in this place, especially trying to pretend they're something they ain't." said one of the black men, his eyes boring into Lorena.

"Let's take this bitch out back." said another man. He made a move towards Lorena, who steeled to defend herself, knowing she was about to be gang-raped and murdered if she didn't fight her way out of here.

"Jerome! Stop right there." called out a voice. The men turned to find THE man himself, T-Square, standing behind him, flanked by security men in suits.

"Bitch," T-Square said, wearing sunglasses to hide his eyes even in this dark room, "get the fuck out of here and do not ever come back. If you're ever seen in this club again, you will be cut. Is that clear?"

"Whatever." Lorena said, but she hastily moved to the door and out of the Cub Club. Glancing back, she saw that the fat son of a bitch Sharples was gone... he'd snuck out the back way as T-Square's arrival had distracted others from his fat presence.

"Brothers," T-Square said after Lorena was gone, "Do not ever fuck up a cop in one of my clubs. Kick 'em to the kerb if you catch 'em, but do not fuck them up. The last thing I need is the God-damned Iron Crowbar coming down here wanting to split my head open. Is that clear?"

"You scared of that cracker?" asked one of the men. It was a bad mistake.

"You damn straight I am." said T-Square, looking at him. "And you better be scared of him too. The Iron Crowbar is the real deal. He does not fuck around. Are you feelin' me, brother?"

"Yeah, sure." said the man, but his tone was derisive. T-Square turned to leave.

As he got to the club lobby, T-Square whispered. "Take care of that nigger before sunrise." A death sentence had just been pronounced, and it would be fulfilled.

As T-Square left and got back in his limo, he typed out a text message on his cellphone and sent it to the Iron Crowbar. It read simply "You owe me one."

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

I was numb. Simply numb.

It was 5:00am Sunday morning, August 16th. In Classroom 'C' was myself, Captain Cindy Ross, Lieutenant Teresa Croyle, Chief Bennett, and at my request, Lieutenant 'Curly' Goodwin of Internal Affairs. The Police Union rep had already been called by Sharples, but I'd told the Duty Desk to prohibit his entry into Headquarters until I was good and ready for him. Lorena Rose was in Cindy's office, very upset, being consoled by Detective Diana Torres and Detective Gayle Tunnin of Internal Affairs.

"I didn't do anything wrong." snarled Sharples. "I just went and said hello to her."

"That's against protocol!" screamed Teresa Croyle, who was past anger. "You know you're NOT supposed to speak to other police officers that might be undercover!"

"How was I supposed to know she was undercover?" snarled Sharples. "There's no record of her being on any mission." I could see that Sharples was trying to take advantage of Teresa not putting things in writing to avoid him.

"That doesn't fucking matter!" screamed Teresa. At this point, Curly Goodwin told her to calm down and restrain herself.

"He is right, Commander." said Goodwin. "There's no record of the operation."

"Not one that Fat Boy here is aware of, Curly." I said. "But I have a typed report of Lorena's undercover mission, complete with Croyle's pen-and-ink signature. She's followed the rules. Sharples did not, and he has put a fellow police officer in literal danger of her life."

"Aw c'mon, she wasn't in any trouble. I was right there, and so were backup officers outside." Sharples whined, beginning to realize he was in real trouble, this time.

"Bullshit." said Cindy Ross, her voice even, but her blue eyes blazing with ice-cold anger and hatred. "She would've been cut to pieces before they could get there if T-Square hadn't intervened. And you ran out the back door like the fat coward you are, Sharples."

"I want my Union rep. Where the fuck is he?" Sharples demanded.

"Chief," I said, "would you ask everyone else to your office for some coffee and a calming down session? I want to talk to Sharples alone."

"Not without a witness and not without my rep!" shouted Sharples, suddenly showing fear.

I stared at Sharples as I said "I'm not going to touch him, Chief, unless he tries to attack me first. Leave a camera on, without sound."

"All right." said the Chief affably. "Let's go, guys."

"I'll be downstairs." said Curly Goodwin. I knew he was going to try to listen in from the depths of Internal Affairs. I knew that he was going to fail, too.

Everyone left. Once alone, I just looked at the fat piece of shit in front of me, whose actions had nearly cost me a police officer's life.

"Sharples, I gave you every chance." I said quietly. "I gave you the child trafficking case, I gave you the opportunity to make that happen, and you go and do this?"

"I didn't do anything wrong, I just said hello to her." Sharples repeated. "How was I supposed to know she was on--"

"Shut the fuck up!" I ordered. "Just stop the god-damn bullshit! Stop the fucking excuses and the procedural crap! The bottom line is that I gave you a chance and you fucking blew it straight to hell! Why?!?!"

"I got nothing more to say without a Union rep present." said Sharples. "I want someone else in the room. I am in fear of my safety."

"You didn't seem to worry about Rose's safety when you announced to a whole club full of hostiles that she was an undercover cop." I said. "Sharples, I'm not going to touch you now, just like I promised the Chief. But I don't have to. All I have to do is assign you to Precinct Two, send you on a mission into a club having let T-Square know where you are and where you'll be going, and that none of my other officers will be within a mile of that location. You'll be dead in minutes, Fat Boy."

"You wouldn't do that." said Sharples. "I'd have KSTD watching, knowing what you'd done. You'd go down if anything happened to me."

"I'll take my chances." I said. "But that's not all: in case you don't get it, Fat Boy, once the Force hears about what you did tonight... and I am going to make damn sure that they do... you're going to get a fucking bullet in the back of your head from a police officer's gun. Someone is going to take you out; you are going to get fragged."