by Isaac Allen
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Forward from the Author
CHAPTER 1. A New Guest in the Jail
CHAPTER 2. Something is a Little off…
CHAPTER 3. Garbage day Conditioning
CHAPTER 4. Taylor’s Story
CHAPTER 5. The Word Getting Out?
CHAPTER 6. An Unmarked Car
Copyright 2015 by Isaac Allen. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact: [email protected].
Forward from the Author
Based on true events…
CHAPTER 1. A New Guest in the Jail
In the very small town of Porter City Oregon Sheriff of Porter County, Sheriff Clancy Charles Douglas was standing tall and proud while giving dire instructions to his skinny deputy. “All right Johnson. Watch out for this one boy! He gave us a heap-o-trouble gettin him in!”
Occupying one of the two cells in the Porter County Jail was a single man of thirty eight years of age who looked like a down and out stockbroker on the lam for committing some white collar crime.
“He tried runnin. But we got him!” Sheriff Douglas boomed out.
Sheriff Douglas was a big tough man with thinning blonde hair, built like a truck and a wide pot belly typical for a man in his family when they’re in their late 50’s.
Sheriff Douglas had a list of orders to fire off at Deputy Johnson. "So listen up Lil Slick. If he makes a fuss for whatever reason just keep him in his cell."
In awe Deputy Brent “Little Slick” Johnson stared at the inmate. "So this is the big homeland terrorist everyones lookin for." Little Slick was the tallest, skinniest and latest edition to the Sheriff’s office. At six foot five inches he weighed in at a whopping 148 pounds; two pounds of which was from his huge Adams apple that protruded from his neck.
Topping off Deputy Johnson’s scraggy frame was a patch red wavy hair. His hair was always well kept, always short, always parted on the right side and always slicked back with three times more styling gel than what was required.
"Hot damn. Mister James Taylor himself." Shrieked Deputy Johnson.
Sheriff Douglas boomed out again "Yes sir-ree! FBI’s number three man behind that short Columbian man Hector Gomez or something like that and that other crazy eyed goof ball."
Sheriff Douglas and Deputy Johnson were staring at their inmate who was handcuffed to the bars in his cell…Mr. James Taylor.
Though James Taylor looked scruffy, dirty and tattered he was a handsome blue eyed man with a medium build and a height of five foot eight. His black hair had a few more strands of grey since his ordeal with the law began. Though handcuffed in a hillbilly cell and facing his eradication from the planet for his crimes he had done and for the secrets he has knowledge of, James Taylor was a calm and cool customer to his captors. His demeanor was like that of a man with ice water in his veins.
Sheriff Douglas continued briefing his Deputy while staring at Taylor "Hot Rod here didn’t use his turn signal in town. Big Jack saw it and tried pullin him over."
Deputy Johnson was in his own world of awe. "Mister James Taylor. Wanted for blowin up all those Liberty Lube joints." Drunks in the tank was the norm for occupants in his two cells. It wasn’t every day a terrorist was in custody at the Porter County Jail.
Sheriff Douglas continued "Then Hot Rod here ran for it. He knew he was in deep shit. Big Jack called in for back up and Lil Jack got in on the ruckus too. Big and Lil Jack landed themselves a big ol fish when they slapped the cuffs on this ol boy!"
Deputy Johnson was still in his world of awe "And isn’t he wanted for blowin up all those garbage trucks and buildings at…What’s the business?"
"Patriot Pac Sanitation” The Sheriff replied. He looked at his deputy. "We found his stolen Honda SUV loaded up with explosives."
Deputy Johnson still stared at Taylor in awe. "Getting ready for another place no doubt."
"Yup. Most likely. Now listen up! We got to make it quick. Two Shot called in for back up out at the Jenkin’s place so I got to scram out of here!"
"Yes sir."
Sheriff Douglas scooted over to the coat rack to get his jacket "I did some reading on the internet about how to handle these homeland terrorists. When you’re by yourself don’t go near his cell."
Deputy Johnson turned and faced his Sheriff ”Yes sir. Don’t go near his cell."
The Sheriff started putting his coat on. "He’s dangerous like a bear trapped in a dumpster. He’s going away for a long time and he knows it!"
"Yes sir!"
Sheriff Douglas rifled through his coat pockets for his keys. "Two of them Fed boys are drivin here faster than a six legged possum headin for the cat food. They’re coming for you-know-who."
"I’ll be expecting them."
"Now them Fed boys said not to talk to the terrorist...” The Sheriff found his car keys in his inside pocket. “And to let them know what all he says. If he says anything at all. Ya here?"
Deputy Johnson boomed out. "Yes Sheriff!"
The Sheriff hurried to the front door. "I’ll be out at the Jenkins place helping Two Shot. No doubt old woman Jenkins is having problems with the renters again."
Deputy Johnson shook his head "Friggin tweekers."
Sheriff Douglas paused at the door. A thought had crossed his mind. "Oh and one more thing. Roll the garbage can out to the curb by morning. Make sure it’s out on time. While you’re waiting for the Feds go ahead and round up the trash in here. I told Beth not to come in tonight because of situation with you-know-who." Sheriff Douglas pointed and jabbed his finger at his prized inmate.
"Sure thing Sheriff."
Sheriff Douglas walked out the front door. "I gotta scoot before Two Shot gets Taser happy again. I should be back by the time those Fed boys get here. I’m lockin the door behind me! I don’t want no strays comin in to gawk at you know who!"
"I’ll radio you when they get here."
Sheriff Douglas stepped back to the threshold of the door. "Good! Just remember to get the trash out to the curb!" He closed the door and locked the door behind him.
Deputy Johnson..."Right sir!"
Taylor was staring at Johnson. Johnson discovered Taylor gazing at him and shot a look back…”What?”
CHAPTER 2. Something is a Little off…
A little over four hours into his shift at the station Deputy Johnson was at his desk researching information on the internet.
Despite having a most wanted terrorist in the cell the only other excitement in Johnson’s shift was the Sheriff Douglas radioing in earlier. The Sheriff was checking on the status of Taylor and to update Johnson that things at the Jenkin’s place simmered down. Then Sheriff Douglas announced he was going to turn in for a few hours while Deputy Two Shot went out on patrol.
Within the first hour of his shift Deputy Johnson completed entering all of the data left over in the To Do pile stacked on Janet the stations secretary’s desk. The To Do pile comprised of random paperwork from the daily reports, activities, records, bills, complaints and anything else that pertained to the law and business of the Porter County Sheriff’s office.
After completing his tasks of data entry Deputy Johnson spent a good block of time researching everything about his inmate James Taylor.
Criminals around Porter County consisted mostly of haphazard dr
unks picked up off of the street to sleep it off in the clink until the morning. James Taylor was the highest profile, and probably most dangerous, criminal that was ever incarcerated in the Porter County Jail. Deputy Brent “Little Slick” Johnson was intrigued by Mr. James Taylor.
However Deputy Johnson gradually found a few things amiss in Taylor’s government criminal file. One was the lack of background information on James Taylor. Yes, his crimes were covered in great detail even down to the minute. However information on who James Taylor was before his crime sprees was nonexistent.
Even the Deputy’s seventy year old Aunt Silvia had detailed background files in the government data base. The worst crime she ever committed was putting an empty ice tray back in the freezer without putting water in it. Yet the government had almost everything including her permanent school records dating back to the first grade.
James Taylor didn’t have anything. As if he was erased.
Yet the biggest mystery about James Taylor in the government data base was his motivations for his alleged crimes. Deputy Brent “Little Slick” Johnson may have been an officer of the law in a hayseed county out in Oregon’s middle of nowhere, however he knew when things were not adding up. And James Taylor’s background and motivation wasn’t adding up like it should in a federal database.
As Johnson surfed the databases of various law enforcement agencies, he occasionally looked in at James Taylor. Taylor had been lying down in his bunk since the Sheriff left. Taylor was stretched out under the sheet and still save for his breathing.
Each time Johnson saw Taylor this way he was relieved. The more Taylor slept the less interaction until the Feds arrive.
Another thing that wasn’t adding up for the Deputy was the type of explosives used in James Taylor’s crimes. All of the federal reports claimed that Taylor used a chemical called ANFO to “blow up” the eight Liberty Lubes, five Patriot Pac Sanitation offices and twenty three of their garbage trucks.
Deputy Johnson was personally familiar with ANFO; which stands for Ammonium Nitrate Fuel Oil. It is a stable explosive created from a mixture of Ammonium Nitrate and petroleum used for industrial purposes such as mining or quarry work.
Johnson used ANFO when he spent one summer after high school working for his cousins at the Cougar Bed Rock Quarry in Lake County Oregon. They used ANFO to blast apart the quarry’s basalt rock and on the occasional abandoned vehicle or defunct quarry equipment for cheap entertainment.
Explosions are violent. Explosions blasts and rips apart everything in a vehement flash. Such was the case when the Johnson boys blew apart a 1971 Ford U-Haul truck that died on the quarry some time back. The force of the explosion tore the cargo area to small shreds.
Though the Johnson cousins danced and laughed about the U-Haul’s destruction in a whiskey fueled stupor from back in the day, the Deputy was not laughing at the evidence he was seeing in the Taylor case in front of him now.
None of the pictures of the vehicles or structures James Taylor destroyed were blown apart or even close to it. All of the buildings, structures and trucks were all burned to a crisp. The pictures indicated signs of a raging arsonist not of a demonic demolition man.
Then Deputy Johnson remembered that the Sheriff said Taylor’s vehicle was packed with explosives. However the Sheriff did not say as to what kind of explosives. Johnson thought that perhaps knowing what Taylor had stashed in his vehicle would ease his curious mind.
Deputy Johnson typed away at the computer and pulled up Taylor’s arrest report from earlier. The report was the usual stuff. Taylor was caught in a stolen 2006 Honda CRV. Various items found throughout the vehicle. The list was detailed down to the gum wrappers on the floor boards.
The Deputy Johnson found the items he was looking for. The rear of the SUV had nine pounds of industrial grade thermite and one book titled Exothermic Welding with Thermite for Dummies.
The Deputy did some quick research on thermite. He found that thermite is not an explosive like ammonium nitrate. Thermite creates brief bursts of extremely high temperatures in a very small area.
Then Deputy Johnsons started contemplating…if James Taylor used thermite and place it in areas that are highly flammable, the fire would build and spread and burn everything to a crisp.
Now the pictures of burned out buildings and trucks were making sense. The Feds were mistaken. Taylor used thermite. Then Johnson started thinking, how could Federal agencies be so mistaken in their assessment.
Now it was getting late. The Deputy’s mind was getting spent from all of the intrigue on the life of Taylor and the Fed’s questionable reports. His body was getting tired as well and there was still work to do around the office.
Deputy Johnson saw a piece of paper on his desk left over from his data entry duties. He wadded it up and threw it like a basketball towards a recycle bin across the office. He watched the paper swoosh into the recycle bin.
Swooshes like that reminded Johnson of his glory days back in high school when they went to state; which for he was a pleasantly brief distraction from the heavy thoughts of the seemingly contradictions of Taylor’s records. Johnson was shooting guard on the Porter City High School varsity basketball team. For a moment in time, when the Chargers went to state, he and his team were the heroes of Porter County with all the perks and benefits, even though they lost.
He got up to take a break from everything and reward himself with a cup of coffee. After a few gulps of coffee, Johnson went on trash detail. He began the process of dumping the smaller waste baskets into a larger trash in the kitchen. He was thinking on when the Federal agents were going to show up and what kind of paper work was going to need to be done after the fact.
Johnson picked up a small blue trash can and started emptying the contents in the big trash can.
"That is why I am here." came the voice from the jail cell.
Deputy Johnson was so startled by the unexpected voice; he almost jumped out of his skin. However he knew he could not show fear with a prisoner. He kept his composure as best as he could. He looked at the cell.
James Taylor was standing up in his cell and leaning on the bars staring at the Deputy.
Deputy Johnson looked at James Taylor to assess what his motives were. Taylor looked more like a crazy hermit in tattered clothing (tattered brand name clothing) than a homeland terrorist. Taylor was deemed dangerous, probably more dangerous than all of the lawbreakers in Porter County combined. Deputy Johnson, not wanting anything to do with Taylor out of safety and duty just ignored him.
Taylor continued. "Trash. That is why I’m here. It’s a government conspiracy that begins with the rudimentary task of taking out your trash on time."
CHAPTER 3. Garbage day Conditioning
Deputy Johnson deducted that there were, no doubt, items amiss in the Government’s reports on James Taylor. One such item was Taylor’s motivation for doing what he allegedly did.
The Deputy mulled over Taylor’s statement that his motivations for destruction stemmed from what he believed was a government conspiracy that somehow incorporates taking out the garbage.
After a few moments of thought Johnson expressed what he felt about Taylor’s statement. "WHAT? That’s CRAZY talk! Now keep your mouth shut and go back to sleep!"
Taylor ignored the order “Is it? Crazy talk? Okay…."
Though the conversation had just begun Deputy Johnson already had enough. "Shut your hole! You know I can’t talk to you. And I’ll have to tell the Feds everything you say is makin more work for me! So shut the hell up!"
"Go ahead. Tell them everything. I’m going away and never coming back. I know it! The Sheriff knows it! You know it! And the so called Feds picking me up know it! They are going to make me disappear. Not because I blew up all those Liberty Lubes and Patriot Pack Sanitation trucks but because I discovered what they are really about!"
The Deputy snapped. "SHUT UP INMATE! I don’t want to hear about it."
"Th
ey are all government agencies Deputy. Patriot Pac Sanitation. Liberty Lube. They are secretly nationalized companies with agendas." Taylor proclaimed.
"Whatever. Blab all you want. I ain’t listening." Deputy Johnson continued with his trash detail.
"I dare you to do something…"
Deputy Johnson perked up and stared at Taylor. "What? Dare me to let you go? You think I’m a stupid hick cop? I’m not doin a thing!"
"No. I don’t think your some hic cop. I think you’re a member of law enforcement agency who still is a free thinker." James Taylor said smoothly like a corporate executive making a million dollar pitch.
"Really? We have a saying in the Porter County Jail. That is Flattery still keeps you behind bars."
Taylor’s eyes brightened up. "Here is your challenge Deputy! Don’t put the trash out. Here or at home. It doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow. However, just try it. What will you have to lose? It is just trash right?"
Deputy Johnson, getting aggravated at Taylor for talking, not just talking but talking crazy, gently pointed his finger at him "They say you’re crazy. Now I friggin know it!"
“Don’t put the trash out. You’ll see what happens. Then you will know I am not crazy."
Johnson gets a little sarcastic. "Or what? Trash police gonna come and arrest me?"
Taylor still had his poker face on. "Not at first. At first you will receive coupons. And if you do not take them, the trash company, up on it then Government agents will visit you."
Deputy Johnson was in a state of thought "Trash police?" The he snapped out of it. "Coupons? You are nuts! Now shut up!"
Unflinching, Taylor continued "The quote trash police, unquote will be the Federal agents who you will meet tonight. The ones who will be picking me up."
“I’ll bust the firehose out if you don’t shut the hell up!” Deputy Johnson shot Taylor a very dire look. “Trust me. You don’t want the fire hose.”
Taylor continued relentlessly…"It happened to me."
