“And you’re positive that they’re going to come after you?”
“Absolutely!”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Willie’s number.
“Mr. Walt! You okay? We heared ‘bout all the commotion on de TV.”
“I’m fine. Listen, can you get a hold of Rashon?”
“Sho, but why?”
“How soon could you have Darius over to that old garage on St. John where the Vipers had their meeting?”
A pause.
“Louie says we could be dere in fifteen minutes. What you thinkin’?
“Call Rashon and tell him every cop in the city is busy protecting the president. This would be the perfect time for the exchange. Have him meet us there and make sure he brings Emma with him.”
“Dat sounds kinda crazy to me!”
“It may be, Willie, but I think this is our best chance to get Emma and Darius out of this alive.”
“You ain’t been wrong befo’. We be dere.”
At that moment, Mark came on the line. “Walt, my men have neutralized the sharpshooter. I think it’s safe for you to come out now. I’ll send somebody to pick up your guy.”
“Mark, do you trust me?”
“What kind of question is that? Sure I trust you. Why do you ask?”
“Because there’s a lot more of those guys out there that are involved in this assassination plot. I think I have a way to draw them out in the open. Also, they have threatened my guy’s family. Can you spare a few men to watch out for them until we wrap this up?”
“Sure, that part’s no problem,” Mark replied. “What’s the rest of your hair-brained scheme?”
“I need for you to have your guys stand down and let Henry and I leave the area.”
“Walt! You’ve got to be kidding! That guy just came within a hair of shooting the president. We can’t just let him waltz out of there!”
“You said that you trusted me and I’m saying that Henry Martin is not a threat, but there are still very dangerous men out there that are. He can help us lure them out of the woodwork.”
A long silence.
“I may get fired for this, but somehow your wacky ideas have worked out in the past. What do you want me to do?”
“First, I’m going to let Henry tell you about his family so that you can keep them safe. Then Henry and I will walk about six blocks north to St. John. There’s an old abandoned garage there. Ask the Captain. He knows where it is. Give me a half hour and then hit the place with everything you’ve got. Just be careful. There will be several of us good guys in there.”
“Heaven help us if you’re wrong!” he replied.
I knew that what I had planned was a long shot.
If Lady Justice was to prevail, I wasn’t opposed to a little help from heaven right about then.
Ox had been just a couple of hundred feet down the street when the first shot rang out.
I grabbed him and the three of us headed to Smitty’s old garage.
On the way, I gave him the details of my plan.
“So any chance we have of coming out of this alive depends on these Skinhead guys coming after Henry?”
“That’s about it. He’s got a quarter million dollars of their money and he’s screwed them six ways from Sunday. They threatened to kill him if he crossed them in any way. I think the odds are in our favor.”
“So how will these guys know where we are?”
“Come on, Ox. You’re the guy that introduced me to all this fancy technology stuff when we were dealing with the Watchers. Henry has a cell phone and I’ll bet dollars to donuts that they’ve been keeping an eye on him all day with a GPS tracker to make sure he was where he was supposed to be. Henry said these guys had sophisticated equipment.”
“I certainly hope you’re right!”
When we arrived at the garage, Willie, Louie and Darius were waiting outside.
“Any sign of the Vipers?” I asked.
“They already inside,” Willie replied. “We saw ‘em go in jus’ befo’ we pulled into de lot.”
“So how we gonna play dis?” Louie asked. “And who is dis guy?”
“This is Henry. He’s our ace in the hole. The five of us will go inside. Ox will stay out here out of sight just in case Rashon has some of his goons trying to circle in behind us.”
“So we get inside?” Louie said. “What den?”
“Then we stall until our backup arrives.”
“Dat’s yo’ plan! We all gonna get kilt!”
I could see the skeptical look on Willie’s face, but to his credit, he calmed his friend.
“Easy, Louie. I been knowing Mr. Walt a long time, an’ if he says dis’ll work, den it will work! I’se bettin’ Emma’s life on it.”
I certainly hoped he was right.
Ox found a place out of sight and the five of us headed inside.
We paused for just a moment to let our eyes adjust to the dark interior. I spotted a stack of old tires along one wall.
“Over there,” I whispered, motioning to the tires. “When the shooting starts, grab Emma and all of us will hunker down until it’s over.”
I saw Louie shake his head in dismay. I could certainly understand his skepticism.
We walked into the big room where the Vipers had held their meetings. Rashon was standing in the middle, surrounded by thugs holding automatic pistols and rifles. I counted at least a dozen men and those were just the ones that I could see. Emma was standing a few feet behind him.
“Well, well,” Rashon said gleefully as he looked at our pitiful little contingent. “You all come here to make a deal?”
“That’s why we’re here,” I replied.
Rashon took a closer look at Willie and me. “You those two old fools playin’ checkers at de Blue Moon de other day!”
“Can’t fool you,” I said as sarcastically as I could muster, given the fact that I was about to wet my pants.
“An’ you a cop on top o’ that! Dis is betta dan I had hoped for. Which one of you guys is gonna get his fang for takin’ out a cop?”
Naturally, every hand in the place shot up.
“We didn’t come here to jawbone, Rashon. We came to deal. Darius for Emma. That’s what you said you would do.”
Rashon laughed so hard that he had to hold his sides. “Jus’ what makes you think dat we gonna deal anything? I see an ole cop wit a .22 strapped to his side, his white-haired checker buddy, Fat-lipped Louie and the young punk dat ratted us out to de cops”
Then he spotted Henry. “Who is dat guy?”
“This is Henry. He is our ticket out of here.”
Rashon took another look and laughed again. “If dis guy is your ticket, den you in big trouble. I’m thinkin’ maybe it’s time to just shoot ever last one o’ you and I might as well start with your ticket there.”
“I wouldn’t do that!” came a voice from the back of the room. “That ticket is all mine!”
“Who is dat!” Rashon shouted. “Who you think you givin’ orders to?”
A man with a clean-shaven head, wearing a black t-shirt and sporting a Nazi swastika on his arm stepped into the light where Rashon could see him. Behind him were a dozen more, all carrying automatic weapons.
“Holy shit!” Louie muttered and I saw Willie’s eyes grow big as saucers.
No one said another word, but as the two armed contingents stood staring at one another, you could see the hatred in their eyes.
It was the epic battle of the ages, the dog squaring off against the cat, the mongoose sparring with the cobra. No two groups on the face of the earth hated one another more. Black power versus white supremacy.
I could see that Rashon and the Skinhead were totally transfixed on one another.
I nodded to Willie and he nodded back. He broke away, grabbed Emma, and the six of us made a mad dash for the stack of old tires.
We had just made it to cover when the fireworks started. Automatic weapons erupted, bullets flew and the air w
as filled with the smell of gunpowder and the screams of dying men.
It probably only lasted a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity before the echo of the last shot faded away.
I peeked around the stack of tires just in time to see Mark and his men sweep into the garage.
“Mark, over here.” I said feebly. “It’s us. Don’t shoot!”
As Mark stood over our little group, he looked at the carnage strewn throughout the garage. “Walt, you’re one crazy son-of-a-bitch!”
CHAPTER 17
As one might expect, the debriefing process involving a failed assassination attempt on the president dragged on until the wee hours of the morning.
Henry, of course, was taken into custody and the rest of us were transported downtown where we each had the opportunity to share our account of the events starting with Henry’s tap on my shoulder and ending with the bloody shoot-out at Smitty’s garage.
I learned from Mark that after the body count had been taken, Rashon Rippe and several of the Vipers were dead. Those that were still breathing would look forward to a very long stretch in the Leavenworth Federal Prison. For all intents and purposes, the Vipers, like the Niners before them, were a closed chapter in Kansas City’s crime book. Emma, Darius, Louie and Willie were off the hook.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that Brant Jaeger’s body was not among the fallen Neo-Nazis. Somehow he had escaped the hail of bullets from the Vipers. He was still at large somewhere in Kansas City and that meant that Henry Martin and his family were still at risk.
Given the fact that Henry had taken their money, failed to complete his assignment and was ultimately responsible for the death and incarceration of a dozen Skinheads, it was ludicrous to believe that Jaeger would not seek retribution.
My debriefing took the most time since I was involved from the very beginning to the bitter end, and since it was my ‘hair-brained’ idea to pit the Vipers against the Skinheads.
“What in the world made you think that you had any chance to pull this thing off?” Mark asked. “It was a long shot from the get-go.”
I was almost embarrassed to share the thought process that set the whole thing in motion.
“Promise you won’t laugh,” I said.
Mark and the Captain nodded.
“Well, I remembered a sci-fi movie that I had seen --- I don’t even remember the name. The hero was being chased by one of those velociraptors, you know, the little dinosaurs with a mouth full of teeth and long claws. Anyway, the hero tripped and fell. The raptor caught up with him and was just about to make a hero sandwich out of him when a tyrannosaurus rex appeared and snatched the raptor up in his huge jaws. That gave the hero just enough time to scramble to his feet and run into a cave.”
I had expected some kind of response, but the two of them just sat there dumbfounded.
Finally Mark spoke. “So you’re telling me that I put my career on the line because of an old movie you had seen?”
“Well, yeah. That plus the fact that I knew how much those two groups hated one another. I figured that if I could get them together, we had a pretty good chance. Rashon wanted Darius and Jaeger wanted Henry. They both wanted something so much, they were willing to throw caution to the wind. It worked, didn’t it?”
“Holy crap!” Mark muttered. “I can’t wait to write this up in my report to the president.”
At two in the morning, I wearily climbed the steps to my apartment.
After the shootout, I had called Maggie to tell her I was okay and that I would probably be late due to the lengthy debriefing that I anticipated. I told her to go on to bed.
Naturally, when I opened the door I realized that she hadn’t listened to a word I said. She had been waiting up for my return.
She rushed up and threw her arms around me. Then she backed away and punched me in the arm.
“Why?”
“Why what?” I asked bewildered.
“Why, out of hundreds of cops on that scene, did that lunatic choose YOU!”
“Well, first of all, he’s not a lunatic ---.”
“That’s not my point! Why you? Why is it always you?”
“I wish I had an answer for you, Maggie,” I said, pulling her back to me. “I don’t go looking for these things. They just happen. Maybe we have to believe that something bigger than you and me is out there pulling some strings.”
“I saw that horrible scene on TV,” she said, sobbing, “and I knew that you were right in the middle of it. I was so scared.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said truthfully. “But here we are. I’m home and everybody that we care about is okay. That’s what is important.”
Later, as I lay in bed with Maggie curled up beside me, I replayed the day’s events in my mind. I was home safe with the one I loved, Ox was at home with Judy and I was willing to bet that Willie was somewhere cuddling Emma. We had all made it through. It could have turned out a lot worse.
Then I thought about Henry Martin and his family. For them, the danger had just begun.
I slept until noon.
I had just finished my coffee and read about our ordeal in the paper when the phone rang. It was the Captain.
“Hi, Walt. I know you were supposed to have the day off, but I wonder if you could come down to the station. We’ve had some new developments and we’d like your input.”
“Sure, I’ll be there in an hour.”
When I arrived, Mark, the Captain and another man I didn’t recognize were waiting in the Captain’s office.
“Walt, I’d like you to meet Dr. Wheeler. He’s a forensic psychologist and a profiler with the FBI.”
After the introductions were over, the Captain got down to business.
“Brant Jaeger didn’t waste any time coming after Henry Martin and his family. Both Henry’s home and the home of Jim and Ellen Bennett, his in-laws, were torched last night. Fortunately, after hearing from you and Henry, Mark had taken Marsha, Billy and the Bennett’s into protective custody and placed them in a safe house. Unfortunately, both homes were a total loss. Both families have lost everything.”
“Holy crap!” I replied. “I figured this guy was dangerous. If he would go after a sitting president, I’m sure he would have no problem executing the guy that crossed him.”
“Dr. Wheeler has been examining our case and has come up with a profile of the participants,” the Captain said. “I’ll let him explain and then we’d like your input.”
“First,” Dr. Wheeler began, “let me say that Brant Jaeger’s concept was brilliant. He knew that his Aryan Brotherhood as well as the Ozark Militia, was being routinely scrutinized by Homeland Security.”
Mark nodded in agreement.
“His plan was to choose a model citizen that would be far off of the government’s watch list, but vulnerable. Henry Martin was the perfect choice.
“My department has looked into Martin’s life and the man is squeaky clean --- not so much as a parking ticket. Unfortunately, Henry Martin and his family fell victim to the downturn in the economy and the outflow of American jobs to other countries. He was laid off when his firm relocated to Mexico and hasn’t found work in over a year. He exhausted his savings, maxed out his credit cards and his home was going into foreclosure. His situation made him vulnerable. Jaeger’s offer of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was viewed as his families salvation.”
“But still,” Mark said, “what kind of man would agree to murder a president?”
“You are quite right, Mark, but you have just made the same mistake that Jaeger made. It is one thing to agree to such a horrific act and quite another to carry it out. One can only imagine the torment that Henry Martin must have felt as he saw his home and family crumbling around him. We, as arm chair quarterbacks, can sit back in judgment, but I’m reminded of the old Indian saying, ‘Don’t judge a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins’. Any one of us in Henry Martin’s situation may very well have done the same thin
g.”
I found myself liking this FBI shrink. He was very down-to-earth.
“The thing that distinguishes men like Jaeger from men like Henry Martin is the sociopathic personality. The sociopath is characterized by a deep-seated rage, a lack of remorse, shame or guilt. They see others around them, not as people, but as targets and opportunities. They are manipulative and cunning and believe that only their way is the right way. They do not have the capacity to love and cannot empathize with the pain of their victims. Their brains are simply not wired to process such emotions. Jaeger is all of these things; Martin is none of them.
“Jaeger’s plan did not take into account the one thing that would make it fail --- that Henry Martin possessed a conscience. In the final analysis, Henry simply couldn’t pull that trigger.”
“Now that you have heard Dr. Wheeler’s analysis,” the Captain said, “we’d like your input. You were with the man. How we proceed from here will be determined by whether we believe that Henry Martin can be trusted.”
I had actually only been with the man for a few hours, but like soldiers in the trenches of war, you learn a lot about a man when lives are on the line.
I tried to choose my words carefully. “My association with Henry Martin was brief, but it was under extremely trying circumstances. My impression of the man coincides with Dr. Wheeler’s analysis. I believe Henry loves his family and his country and I believe he can be trusted.”
The three men looked at one another and nodded.
“That’s our assessment, too, but we wanted your opinion. The success of our plan to bring Brant Jaeger to justice is predicated on trusting Henry Martin.”
I just hoped that we had read the man correctly.
CHAPTER 18
After I left the Captain’s office, I stopped by the break room for a cup of the sludge that passes for coffee in the squad room.
A few cops waiting to go on duty were there, and another man that I recognized as a crime beat reporter for the Kansas City Star. He was always hanging around, hoping for some tidbit of information that he could publish under his byline.
[Lady Justice 13] - Lady Justice and the Assassin Page 11
