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Praetorium Honoris

Sunday, April 28, 2024

Fall Guys

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DuPont was back at his desk. The trip to the country had seemed worthwhile, at first. Now he was having doubts. He picked up his phone.

"Beth, you're still here? Good, please come by my office."

DuPont sat staring at his desk, he was dead tired and the chance of going home to sleep in his own bed was looking slim. His gaze went from the desk to his sofa, he'd be sleeping there tonight, if he slept at all.

He looked up at the tap on his door, Beth Chapman, former member of the Office of Naval Intelligence stepped into the room. She had a folder in hand. DuPont wondered what it was.

"So, we were out in the country today, an abandoned farmhouse ..."

"From which you brought back a single 7.62 NATO cartridge, a couple of trash bags of garbage, and not much else."

DuPont nodded, "You're up to speed then, good. Any thoughts?"

"A few."

Chapman pulled a chair around to sit beside DuPont, she placed the folder on his desk. "Forensics lifted a single partial print off that cartridge, they're running it through AFIS¹ now. That might take a while."

DuPont sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, as they search, the trail goes cold. Any DNA on that trash?"

"The lab guys aren't real hopeful. Seems the local teens use the place as a party hangout. Some of that trash is probably months old."

"Damn it," as DuPont sat back up, his phone rang. "Excuse me, Beth."

"DuPont."

"Yes Sir, we've got a report that our shooters might have returned to the warehouse district."

"Bullshit!" DuPont barked into the phone. "How do we know this isn't another set-up like before?"

"Sir, we've had surveillance up since the shooting. A van pulled in to one of the abandoned factories, three men got out. If they were armed, we didn't see them carry anything into the building."

"They may have prepositioned ..." DuPont stopped talking and listened.

"Can we get our people in, unseen?"

"I'll be there in an hour, can't be any quicker with the traffic out there. Thanks, and be f**king careful, Teddy."

He hung up and looked at Chapman, she asked, "What's up? Our shooters?"

"Maybe. A surveillance drone spotted a beat up van entering the warehouse district. No businesses still up and running there. Drone saw them cut the lock on a building. Suspicious as hell if you ask me."

Chapman was already moving for the door, "Can I come with?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you in the garage, gear up, this could get nasty."


Walter Rostock looked at his two companions, both of whom were high on something. He shook his head, he'd told them to stay clean until they left the country. Stupid bastards.

"Leo, Jack, there should be something for us in that locker." He said, indicating a storage locker over by an old rusty turret lathe. The locker was pretty banged up, but the lock was new.

He tossed the key to Jack Wilkins, who seemed the more sober of the two. He went to the locker, and after fumbling briefly with the lock, got it open.

"Gotta gym bag here. Nice, feels kinda heavy."

Rostock walked over, "What's in it?"

Leo Rogers, who had been in the Army before being thrown out, looked around, something didn't feel right.

"Hey Walt, hold off ..."


As DuPont and Chapman headed for the warehouse district, his cell phone went off.

"Yeah? F**k, you're kidding? Alright, get some people on scene, be careful, this whole things stinks to high heaven."

Chapman looked over, "Something go wrong?"

"Yeah, the f**king warehouse blew up."


Johansen headed through security, bypassing the metal detector after showing his credentials. He wondered if Morgan was at his desk yet. It had been almost a week since the latest development in the case. It was getting harder to pretend that anything given to him was news.

After all, he knew what was going to happen, if everything went as planned. So far it had.

Walking down the corridor to his office, he ran into Beth Chapman. He said hello, she nodded and hurried down the hallway.

He walked into the office and nodded to his personal assistant, "Anything new, Ben?"

"Yes Sir, the Director has a meeting scheduled for 0830, you're invited."

"Wonderful, another meeting." then Johansen entered his office and turned his computer on.

First thing he noticed was the email from the Director's executive assistant, a couple of emails further down and he saw what he was looking for, he glanced at the subject line then kept scrolling.

The subject line had been "Warehouse Explosion." He didn't open it, if security was monitoring his system, and they were known to do that, he didn't want to show any unusual interest in that event. After all, he had been the cause.


Jack Morgan wasn't at his desk yet. He'd come up on a traffic accident on his way to work. Traffic was totally backed up, he called his assistant.

"Hi Jennie, it's Jack Morgan, yeah, I'm going to be late. Some idiot who doesn't know how to drive caused an accident. Can't go around, can't back track. Anything going on I might miss?"

"Yes Mr. Morgan, the Director has called a meeting for 0830."

"Well, it'll be a miracle if I make it. Can you go and take good notes for me?"

"Will do, boss. I'll see you when you get in."

Morgan put his cell phone away. He still wasn't really happy with Johansen. Though it really was a good idea to eliminate Rostock, Wilkins, and Rogers, he still didn't like it. Though the men all had criminal records, they were veterans after a fashion. All had been soldiers, all had been thrown out for various reasons. But they had served, they had been upstanding citizens before life had screwed them.

He remembered Johansen saying, "Come on Jack, you know how important this mission is. We need to rattle some cages, get some of these bastards out in the open. Do you want to take the chance that things will change on their own? You know that ain't gonna happen, man!"

Johansen was probably right, but Morgan still felt dirty. Some of those men they'd ambushed were just doing their jobs. He'd said as much to Johansen.

"Didn't fly at Nuremburg, ain't gonna fly now."

Johansen and his damned history lessons, ah, traffic is moving, good.




¹ Automated Fingerprint Identification System, sometimes known as IAFIS, the initial "I" standing for "Integrated." Government loves systems which are "integrated," DAMHIK.

30 comments:

  1. Another layer of the onion peeled away Sarge, muy bueno! Wonder if that partial print belongs to one of the three dead guys from that warehouse explosion, fall guys?

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  2. Ah! Everybody is a bad guy...

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  3. Kill the cutouts. Create the "dead end". Ahem.

    Problem is that even druggie war vets have history and chat with them. DNA left outside the blast zone gives information of who these old Vets were from. Secondary investigations will generate interesting leads. AKA Mommy, girlfriend, buddy he owes money too. I was going for my payoff is interesting data. Tracking Somone's income and spending gives hints of other contacts. Cellphone records are forever, even with "Throwaway" cellphones once they are betrayed by other known cellphone records.

    The higher priority the investigation, the higher quality of effort and technology will be used.

    Kill a street corner druggie, paperwork will barely be done (MIGHT NOT GET Written up at all). Snuff someone high in the drug world, the other drug leadership will get interested and messy work follows. Might be basic don't *uck with us terrorism. Snuff someone with political connections things might get interesting in the real data world.

    Yeah, my family is involved in police-fed world as well as medical-military service. Thus, my working briefly as medical support in body snatch work. Needed to move on as narco's get personal about that.

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    1. Don't think druggies, though they were. Users, not dealers. There's something going on here which won't be clear for a while. If ever.

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    2. I "Hear" Buffalo Springfields song about "Stop Children, what's that sound, everybody look whats going down...

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    3. The way to defeat DNA is to overload the system with it. Collect trash from a hundred homes (preferably those you want busted up by government) and salt the area with that. It's easy and has been done so I'm not giving away trade secrets or anything. Fingerprints? Same. Overload the system with planted evidence while making sure your people wear gloves before touching anything.

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    4. Beans - That's the way to overwhelm any system which processes data, give it more than it can handle.

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  4. Maybe you have more than one group against the established govt? You have the rebels/terrorists vs the govt, expected and being dealt with.
    But off to the side you have govt people who want to be the "new boss" & they have not been discovered yet..

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  5. After reading all the parts in order, several times over, just now, so I can try to get a clear picture I have come to the conclusion that Muse is warped. Demented. Twisted. I like that.

    Muse also needs to lay off the anchovy and kimchee pizza before bedtime.

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    1. If such "clear picture" can be obtained it still eludes me. Any sort of Fed these days makes me anxious; though ONI aren't exactly tactical level door-kickers, hell, they rarely get to operational level in my experience. Not sure where Beth got her gear from; REI?
      I'll hang on for the ride; but the vis is about 0/0 and the terrain following's acting wonky.
      Is the Muse pregnant? Cravings?
      Boat Guy

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    2. Chapman finished her career at ONI, who knows what she did before that. She doesn't work there any more. As you might guess, she's retired Navy. Medically retired, but we'll get there.

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  6. That plot thickened quickly!

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  7. There are always those in 'The Revolution' who use said revolution to further their own personal needs and wants. Great way to get rich, until someone figures it out. But someone always tries self-enhancement during troubled times. Always.

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  8. Grammar Polizei might knock on your door, or kick it in, for Rostock's wrong think expression;
    "He tossed the key to Jack Wilkins, who seemed the most sober of the two."

    With two items, one can be more than the other, but there must be more than two before it can be most. (I think.)
    JB

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    Replies
    1. 'Tis a quibble, but I'll allow it. More sober has a better flow.

      More is comparative, most is superlative, so more does fit better in this instance. (It's not a question of numbers per se.)

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  9. Monty Hall has entered the game, and he's brought extra doors.

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    Replies
    1. The underworld has far more doors than Monty ever dreamt of.

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    2. (Don McCollor) I recently finished a book about the large Nazi sympathizer rallies in the US just prior to WW2 and the work of Jewish mobsters (think Murder, Inc.) to discourage them (don't kill them, just marinate them a little). Interesting unknown history.

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  10. Hmmm. The aspect of "Tying up loose ends" seems as prudent in such things as it is horrifying.

    To the last thought, following orders "because" was not an excuse then and is surely not a excuse now. Even in my non-government related/non-military job, the expectation is that you as the individual will not follow any instruction that is clearly wrong or will endanger people.

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  11. Nice to see The Muse has returned, Sarge! You're on a roll, to.....It's very good reading.

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