Reaper (18 page)

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Authors: Craig Buckhout

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When they joined Max, Maureen looked at his face and said, “Jesus Christ!”  She immediately turned and threw a fist into Tattoo’s gut, making him double over.

While Walt forced Tattoo over the hood of the SUV and held him there by the back of his neck, Maureen unhandcuffed Max.

“How’d you know where to find me?” Max asked.

“Your phone; Walt heard the whole thing.  When it became clear they were taking you and your car, Walt called Communications.  It was easy after that.  The GPS.  Heidi tracked the car and told us exactly where you were.”

“What do you want to do with these guys?” Walt asked.

 

Tattoo wore boxers, but Shorty, well he was definitely a briefs guy; skimpy, bright red, polyester briefs.

They left them handcuffed to the street sign and took their clothes, boots, and guns.  As they were doing all that, several people drove by.  Most just turned their heads away, obviously not wanting to have anything to do with it, except for one guy who honked and gave a thumbs up.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

 

 

Louis Espinosa was on the phone with his wife Anna, the department’s Press Information Officer, who, for a change, was with their children at the substation.  With the government’s censors hard at work, there wasn’t much point in press releases or press conferences anyway.  Nobody seemed to bother with either anymore.

As he made the turn onto Great Oaks Boulevard, about a block from the substation, he saw a line of DHS vehicles, including one armored.

He told his wife, “Hang on, I think you’re about to receive some unwelcomed visitors,” and made a right-hand turn, putting him on a course that would take him right past them.

As he made the turn, he put his phone on speaker, set it on his thigh, and kept his eyes looking straight ahead.  First he stated the number of vehicles and then, within one or two people, the number of DHS officers.  Driving past, he felt their eyes zeroed-in on him, but he refused to meet them, trying his best to act like just some guy on the way to the grocery store, two blocks away.

As soon as they were in his rear view mirror, he picked up the phone and said, “I think you’re going to get raided by the feds.  Better get everyone ready.  They look serious.”

“What?  Don’t hang up!  Don’t hang up, Louis!  Stay on the line!” Anna shouted into the phone in a voice that sounded like she was running.

Louis pulled in behind a building where the DHS couldn’t see him and waited.  As he did, he heard more shouting through the phone, occasionally interrupted with Anna repeating, “Louis, you still there?  Don’t hang up.”

Eventually, Steve came on the line and asked what was going on.  When Louis explained, Steve told him to get to some place where he could keep an eye on the DHS cops and keep Anna advised on what they were doing.

 

Max, Walt, and Maureen were just transitioning onto Highway 680 from 87 when Max received a radio transmission from Steve.  They switched to a tactical channel where Max listened for a few seconds.  He briefly told Steve what Godfrey and the two DHS cops had tried to do to him, explained the Chief’s position on the DHS trying to take over the substation, and why it couldn’t happen.  Before hanging up the mic, he added, “I won’t be there for another ten or fifteen minutes, so I’m not going to tell you how to do it, but keep them out any way you can, by any means possible.”

Max switched on his lights and siren, used the radio to call Walt, and instructed him to drop behind Maureen in the van for an escorted code-three run home.

 

About ten minutes later, “Guess who just got here?” Louis said.

“This isn’t a time for guessing games,” Anna said.

“Right.  Well, it’s Godfrey.  He’s meeting with ‘em, and they all seem pretty damn buddy-buddy.”

“Godfrey?  Oh that’s not good.  He and a couple of DHS guys just tried to arrest Max.”

“Wait, I just left him.  When’d that happen?”

“A few minutes ago, I guess.  Max just told Steve.”

“Well, that’s it then; bet you anything Godfrey will try to get you guys to open the gate for them.  Oh, oh, they’re mounting up.  Hope you’re ready.”

“Hope so, too.”

“What are you guys gonna do?”

“Let ‘em know we’re on to their plan and make them think we’ll fight if necessary.  Steve’s got all the sworn, plus Frank and a few of the others who’ve been through the training, armed and down at ground level behind the rock barriers and vehicles.  Up on the roof, he put maybe another dozen of just whoever he could get, making a show of it, holding empty rifles.  Like I say, hope this works.”

“Okay, they’re moving out.  Looks like Godfrey is going in first because he’s way out in front.  I definitely wouldn’t open the gate for him.  What do you want me to do?”

“Just keep ‘em in sight if you can.  But be careful, sweetie.  Don’t let them see you.  …Shit, here comes Godfrey.”

“I’m telling ya, don’t let that asshole in.”

“I’ll pass it along to Steve.  He’s over by the gate now.  I don’t know how he’s even able to walk.”

 

Godfrey came to a stop with the front bumper of his car about a foot from the gate, opened his door, stood with one foot still inside, and said, “Move the truck and open the gate.”  And then as if just noticing, “What’s with all these people and guns?”

“The gate stays just the way it is, Lieutenant,” Steve said.

“Woods, I gave you a direct order.  Are you refusing to obey it?”

“Guess so.  Now I’d suggest you and your playmates get the hell out of here.”

Steve could hear sirens coming and hoped it wasn’t more DHS people.  He wasn’t sure if everyone on his side of the fence would actually stand and fight.

“You’re not seeing the big picture, here,
Officer
Woods.  This is way above your pay grade.  It’s why I have the bars on my collar and you don’t.  Now move the truck and open the gate.”

“Better look around you, Lieutenant.  We’re not messing around, and we’re not opening the gate.”

Godfrey paused a minute while he made a closer study of what he was facing; at least thirty people spread out inside the fence, some in uniform, but all of them armed, and another dozen or so up on the roof with the high ground advantage.

“You’ll regret this, Woods.  Calloway already does.  He’s probably being strip-searched as we speak.  If you don’t want to end up in the cell next to him, I suggest you change your mind.  Last chance.”

 

Max, going code-three, made the turn, saw the marked car at the gate, blew right past the DHS vehicles half a block away on a side street, and came to a stop, blocking Godfrey in.  Walt and Maureen stopped on either side of him.

Max was out of his car faster than anyone in his condition should have and went right for Godfrey.

Godfrey, who had turned at his arrival, managed, “How’d you ….” Before he could finish, Max one-punched him.

Godfrey went straight down, started to get up, but only made it to a sitting position before Max kneeled and hit him again, this time knocking him out.  As Max rolled Godfrey over and handcuffed him, and as Steve opened the gate, everyone could hear the approach of the DHS caravan.  With the gate partway open, Max dragged Godfrey inside the fence by his feet.  Once Walt and Maureen were on the other side as well, Steve quickly closed the gate and relocked it. At the same time he said, “Holy shit, Max, you just punched out a Lieutenant.”

The DHS caravan stopped in the middle of the street, idling for several seconds before Captain Calhoun exited the lead vehicle.  He slowly, almost leisurely, walked to the gate, stared at the array of firearms pointed in his general direction, looked up at the roof, dropped his gaze to Godfrey, who was still face down on the asphalt, fixed his eyes on Max and said, “You know, you’re just postponing the inevitable.  I’ve got weapons at my disposal you can’t even imagine.  Eventually, you’ll have to open the gate.”

“These weapons, why don’t you use them?”

“Because I know I can take you off one at a time or wait until the people in there,” he flicked his hand at the building, “get tired of living that way and decide to leave.  Two weeks at most.  So come on now, why not just get it over with.  You seem like a pretty smart guy.  I could even find a place for you on my staff.”

“All this just for a place to house your prisoners; doesn’t make sense.  There’re plenty of other spots just as good as this …better.”

Calhoun didn’t respond to Max’s bait.  “So, you’re not opening up?”

“I told you once; it’s not going to happen.”

Calhoun turned and started to walk away but stopped, turned and faced Max again and asked, “By the way, where are my two guys?”

Max shrugged his shoulders.  “Last time I saw em, they were kinda tied up on something.”

Calhoun just shook his head and walked back to his vehicle, got in, and led the procession away.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

 

 

Myles Godfrey sat in the dark with his hands cuffed behind his back, on the floor of the metal shipping container used to store the remaining emergency supplies.  Max had already ripped the badge from Godfrey’s shirt, removed his lieutenant bars, and confiscated his leather gear.  There was dried blood below his nose, both lips on the left side of his face were severely swollen, and the skin over one of his cheekbones was scraped almost all the way through from being dragged across the asphalt, inside the gate.

When the door swung open, he squinted his eyes and looked down and away from the sudden infusion of light into his dark environment.  A flashlight came on.  The door slammed shut, and he heard Max say, “I have some questions for you.  How you answer them will determine ….”

“You can’t do this!” Godfrey shouted with rubbery words.  “They’ll lock you up for what you’ve done.  There’re witnesses.  They won’t all lie.  And if you don’t let me go, right now, right this minute, it’ll be worse, much worse.”

“Shut up Godfrey.  You know that’s not happening.  Now, I want to know why Homeland Security is so interested in putting their prisoners here.”

“Fuck you, Calloway.  What are you gonna do, kill me?  Torture me?  You’re so stupid.  You have no idea what’s going on.”

“So tell me.  Enlighten me.  I’ll let you go if you do.  I’ll walk you to the gate, take the cuffs off, and let you go.”

“Is that the best you can do?  You’re a joke.  You’re going to let me go anyway.  You’ve got nothing to bargain with.  I’m not telling you anything.”

Max stood there for several seconds just looking at him.  Eventually, he picked up the flashlight and returned Godfrey to the dark.  As he closed the door, he could hear Godfrey’s laugh chasing after him.

One minute later, Max returned, shining the light into Godfrey’s eyes.

“Oh, what’s this?” Godfrey said full of sarcasm.  “You going to shine the light into my eyes until I talk, is that it?  You watch too many old movies if you ….”

He heard the pop and felt the darts imbed into his skin.  “Don’t you do it!  Don’t you fuckin’ do it!”

Max lit him up for a three count and watched as Godfrey flopped back, face up and let out what could best be described as a mix between a scream and a grunt.

After giving him a few seconds to recuperate, Max hit him again, this time for five seconds.

When Godfrey seemed to have recovered once again, Max gave him another shot, for longer still.  This time he could see drool come from a corner of his mouth.

This guy is either really tough, Max thought, or he’s really, really dumb.  He was just about to give him the juice again when Godfrey said, “Okay, okay, no more.  It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Max hit the record function on his phone.  “Okay, Lieutenant, tell me why the DHS is so interested in keeping their prisoners here.”

“See, just asking that question proves you’re out of your league.  It has nothing to do with prisoners, you fool.  They want
you
out of here; you and everyone else because you’re slowing things down, screwing with their plans.”

“What plans?”

“Jesus you’re stupid.  It’s because what you’re doing here is keeping the P.D. afloat.  Cops, dispatchers, clerks are still showing up for work.  If they’re still showing up for work, DHS can’t take over.  They need the department to become non-viable, to fail, to fade away.”

“Why would they care?  Why would they want local cops to stop enforcing the law?”

“Think about it.  If the cops are still at work, local and state government keeps functioning; courts will resolve disputes and put bad people in jail, people can run a business without someone cheating them or demanding protection money, the street lights keep working, fires are put out, garbage gets picked up, all that stuff.  But if the cops are gone, everything falls apart and things don’t work so well anymore.  People struggle and suffer.  They aren’t happy.  They want order.  They want somebody to fix it.  So who steps in to fill the void?  DHS.”

“So you’re telling me that the DHS has a plan to replace local and state governments.  Come on, Godfrey, you expect me to believe that?  We have a Constitution that says they can’t do that.”

“I’ve seen the damn plan, held it in my hands; federal territorial governors, federal district commissioners, it’s not just something that a bunch of guys dreamed up one night over cigars and a pitcher of beer.  It’s bound and covered and got the Presidential seal on the front of it.”

“I’ll tell you something else; the only reason Calhoun didn’t use force today is because there is just enough state and local government still functioning that they could make something of it, try to hold him accountable for any deaths of civilians and police officers.  He’s got his eye on this district commissioner’s job and doesn’t want to take a chance screwing it up.”

“If what you say is true …”

“Of course it’s true.”

“I still can’t see it.  I still can’t see some bureaucrat sitting in his DC corner office calling a meeting of his subordinates to plan the destruction of our entire system of government.  Because it would mean not just the state and local governments down the tube, it would mean the federal government, too.  The states elect the Senate and House and even the President.  It would be treason.”

“I don’t think that’s how it happened, a conspiracy to overthrow the government.  I think it started out as a contingency plan, you know, nuclear winter, super volcano, end of the world shit, and morphed into an action plan, a plan allowing a few powerful people in government to take advantage of a bad situation and take over.

Max thought about this for a couple of seconds and, although still difficult to accept, he had to admit he himself knew of people, ambitious people, ruthless people who could do something just like this.  In fact, he was looking at one of those people right then.  There certainly were plenty of other examples throughout history, as well.

“And you signed on to this plan?”

“Of course I did.  Why wouldn’t I?  I’m a realist.  The way I figure it, it’s going to happen no matter what.  These people are too powerful.  They’ve already suspended most of the Bill of Rights.  And I’m not so sure that those who wrote the executive orders didn’t plan on them making things worse.  That way, they could write more executive orders and come down even harder. I’m telling you, if you want to survive, there’s only one side of this thing to be on, and it’s not yours.”

“And screw the people, is that it?”

“Oh come on, be real.  Before all this, government controlled everything anyway.  And as for the people, half of them can’t get by without getting somethin’ free from good ole Uncle Sugar.  Liberty, freedom, it’s a joke.”

In truth, what Godfrey was saying wasn’t something new.  Max had heard it before and even thought it before.  Government did control too much and it was getting worse.  But what he wasn’t ready to accept was that the people were incapable of taking it back a notch or two.

“So if liberty is dead, explain what happened today.  If people think government is the answer, then why did a bunch of us tell the DHS no?”

Another thought came to Max.  Maybe what they were going through right now was more than just a struggle for survival.  Maybe it was an opportunity to once again choose how they wanted to live and be governed.  But would we choose liberty, he wondered?  Have our lives been managed too long?  Are we even capable of being truly free; responsible for feeding, clothing, housing, and protecting ourselves?  He remembered reading somewhere that nearly fifty percent of Americans are receiving benefits from one government program or another. 

“Don’t make too much of what happened,” Godfrey said.  “You and the rest of ’em are like that guy on the stretcher with a stab wound to the chest.  He’s sitting up, fully conscious, talking away, answering all the questions, only what he doesn’t know is he’s bleeding out on the inside, and in another ten minutes he’ll be dead.”

Max had gotten what he needed from Godfrey.  It was now just turning into a debate.  “Yeah, well, I don’t see it that way and while this conversation may be interesting and even enlightening, it’s over.”

Max shut off the recorder.  “Now I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.  You’ve made it clear you want me out of the picture at any cost.  So this is what I’m going to do.  I’m still going to walk you to the gate and let you go, just like I said I would.”  Max grabbed Godfrey’s arm and helped him to his feet.  “But if you come anywhere near me or this place again, I’m going to kill you.  If I find out that you are behind any further attempts to take this place over, I’ll do my best to hunt you down.”  Max pulled the darts from Godfrey’s chest.  “I also wouldn’t suggest going back to the department.  People will know what you tried to do to me and their family members here.”  He started him toward the gate.  “I don’t think you’ll be safe.”

“What about my badge and gun?”

“You lost the right to ‘em.”

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