Brown Sugar in Minnesota (Cooper Smith Book 1)

by Joe Field

  “Officer Clark, can you stall the plane? We are about twenty minutes from MSP. We are coming right now.”

  “Roger that, we have men at the gate, but they haven’t spotted him yet. We will keep looking though and let you know.”

  “What are the flight, terminal, and gate numbers?”

  “It’s a Sun Country flight, 581 out of the Humphrey Terminal, gate H1.”

  “Got it, we’ll be right there.”

  ***

  It was 10:45 pm, and Smokey was fidgeting with his boarding pass, folding and unfolding it. He hadn’t heard anything from Jimmy or Marcus yet. But his 11 pm flight had been delayed for mechanical reasons, so he could wait a little longer for updates. His phone started vibrating in his pocket, and Smokey saw it was Tank. He accepted the call. Tank was breathing heavily, and there was a loud noise of an engine churning, with a faint sound of sirens in the background.

  “Smokey, Smokey, are you there?” Tank called out.

  “Yes, what’s going on?”

  “I’m in a vehicle pursuit of the reporter right now, but I may be in trouble. I have two cops on my tail.”

  “What? What happened?” Smokey demanded.

  “Boss, I can’t really talk right now, but I took out a couple of cops at the house, and the reporter bolted to the cop’s car. I’ve been chasing him for a little bit and picked up a couple of other cops in the process.”

  “You need to take care of this,” Smokey said through gritted teeth. “Right now.”

  “I will, boss – I have to go, though,” Tank said.

  Smokey heard the phone drop, along with the acceleration of Tank’s vehicle, followed by squealing tires and a crash. A gear shift, another crash. Approaching sirens, men yelling. Then silence. Smokey strained to listen, and thought he heard gunshots. Then the call dropped.

  Dammit! They got Tank. No matter what, now he had to get on that plane. He rushed down the H Concourse toward H1, but as he passed gate H4, he saw two officers standing in front of his gate. Smokey’s stomach plummeted.

  He quickly turned and headed back toward the terminal exit. He moved with the same brisk walk as most other visitors to the airport; he avoided running so he would not draw attention to himself. Smokey stepped out of the airport and on to the street just as two dark Crown Victorias and a Suburban came screaming to halt at the next terminal exit to his left. Feds poured out of the vehicles. He ran.

  ***

  Agent Sosa jumped out of his Crown Victoria and spotted Smokey ahead at the next terminal exit door. You’re mine. Sosa gave chase as Smokey bolted back inside the terminal and clambered up the escalator, knocking aside weary travelers as he went. Sosa followed him up the escalator, across the skywalk, and through the parking terminal to the Humphrey Light Rail Station.

  Smokey was fast, but Sosa held with him. Sosa’s men were lagging behind as a light rail car pulled up ahead of them and opened its doors. Smokey seemed to increase his speed, and he made it through the last set of open doors. The lights started to flash, and the doors were about to close. Sosa sprinted and lunged with all his strength, making it into the car as the doors closed. No one on his team had managed to keep up throughout the whole chase.

  Smokey was heading away from Sosa down the car when he reversed direction and came right at him. With bystanders on board, Sosa couldn’t risk shooting at Smokey. Instead, he met him with a kick to the face. Smokey took the kick and followed through with a spear that pelted Sosa to the floor. Sosa blacked out for a second, then managed to throw an elbow up that connected on Smokey’s jaw.

  Smokey turned his head to the side, but he had at least a hundred pounds on Sosa, so he leaned his weight on him as he reached for Sosa’s firearm. Sosa wiggled his arm free and punched Smokey in the throat. Smokey fell back gasping for air, but quickly got to his feet. He threw a slow roundhouse punch that would have knocked Sosa out cold had it connected. Instead, Sosa ducked the punch and came up to elbow Smokey in the ear with all his force.

  Smokey fell to his knees. Sosa jumped on his back and started throwing punches to the back of Smokey’s head. Smokey put his massive hands behind his head for protection and slid away. The light rail car stopped at the American Blvd Station. That was when Smokey made a fatal decision. Even though his size gave him an advantage on the compact light rail car, he bolted out the door into the night. The rail station was dead, and he and Sosa were the only ones to get out.

  Sosa drew his handgun and yelled for Smokey to stop. Smokey sprinted across the road as Sosa pulled the trigger. The round entered Smokey’s left calf, and he keeled over. He stumbled when he tried to get up to run. Sosa swooped in on him and pointed the gun right in his face.

  “Turn around and put your face on the ground!”

  “Shoot me! Kill me now!”

  “Get your face in the ground!”

  “I’m not going back to Stillwater,” Smokey said. “Kill me.” Smokey made a weak lunge for Sosa.

  Sosa slid out of the way, smacking Smokey in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. The blow combined with Smokey’s body momentum resulted in a hard crash onto the pavement. Sosa quickly pinned Smokey’s head to the gravel with his knee and handcuffed him.

  “Smokey, you’re under arrest – and your old friend Mr. Stillwater just might be calling your name.”

  Smokey flexed his muscles, closed his eyes, and clenched his teeth. Then he let out a bellowing roar of defeat. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his days in Stillwater, and that was worse to him than death.

  Chapter 19

  Twin Cities, MN

  The press conference was scheduled to begin in a few minutes at 11 am in the DEA’s federal office building on Washington Avenue in Minneapolis. I had talked to Agent Sosa the day before on the long car ride back to the Twin Cities, and he said MPR could air the story as soon as the press conference finished. He even agreed to give me a few voice-recorded quotes that no other news outlet would get.

  I called Bill Anderson next at his house and told him everything that had transpired. He assembled a media team to work all Sunday night and into Monday morning to prepare our piece so it was ready to air immediately following the press conference. Bill was able to get a five-part, running special on the popular Minnesota News Presents show from noon to 1 pm, Monday through Friday. The timing of the first show would be perfectly synced with the end of today’s press conference, which MPR planned to stream live.

  ***

  My microphone was on the podium, and my recorder was already turned on when Agent Sosa walked into the press conference with several other federal agents and representatives from the U.S. Attorney’s office. Sosa pulled out a piece of paper with his official remarks and set it on the podium. He looked out on all the media gathered in the room and saw me sitting in the middle of the pack. He flashed me a smile, then read:

  “We set out to stop the flow of heroin to reservations in Minnesota, and we are pleased to announce the indictment of thirty-two members of a multi-state heroin trafficking conspiracy. The network was led by Tyrone ‘Smokey’ Carter out of North Minneapolis. Our goal, however, was not just to take down the head of the organization, or the people bringing the heroin into the state of Minnesota. We wanted to make it as difficult as possible for someone to come in and pick up where this organization left off.”

  “The indictment of the Carter drug trafficking organization is emblematic of our commitment to combatting heroin trafficking in Minnesota. These defendants, led by Carter, represented the most significant source of heroin in Indian Country. Through close collaboration with law enforcement at all levels, we have officially shut down this major pipeline that was spreading heroin across the Red Lake and White Earth Indian Reservations and the surrounding communities.”

  Sosa paused and looked out at the gathered crowd.

  “Carter cared nothing about the collateral damage the drugs inflicted upon neighborhoods, families, and especially young children on tribal lands in Minnesota an
d throughout the north region. With this successful take down, we have sent a clear message to drug trafficking organizations that drugs will not be tolerated on or near reservations. I think we’ve also proved today that criminals like Carter have always been and will always be on the wrong side of history, and now they know it.”

  “Any Questions?”

  As the other reporters asked questions, my thoughts drifted over the past few weeks. I finally had this story as a feather in my hat – but I no longer had my friend, Ricky. Did I do enough to avenge his death? Would my story prevent others from walking down the same path? The press conference closed up right at noon. I had already returned to Wellstone a few minutes earlier.

  I turned on the radio, forever set to 91.1 FM, just in time for my special to begin.

  This is the story of an epidemic drug – heroin – that plagues our great state. On today’s Minnesota News Presents, we begin the first of a five-day series titled ‘Brown Sugar in Minnesota,’ reported by MPR’s Cooper Smith…

  ***

  I inched along I-94, headed east for Saint Paul. Traffic was heavy, but I didn’t mind. I parked a few blocks away from work and listened to the last five minutes of the special.

  My first major story. Always the toughest to get, they say. Who knows, maybe this one could even win the Peabody… Okay, don’t get too ahead of yourself. I hoped this story would at least protect my job for a while at MPR. And, who knows, maybe I could give Lisa Larson a run for her money at the investigative team.

  I walked down Cedar Street, and as I approached MPR headquarters I could see Bill Anderson looking out of his office window on the third floor, grinning at a gaggle of reporters from all the Twin Cities majors including the Star Tribune, Pioneer Press, Kare11, and Fox9.

  They all stood outside on the street looking up at the news ticker. I knew they were waiting for me to return so they could ask questions about my sources and other angles. I slid around them as they tried to mob me and said, “No comment.”

  From the window above, Bill flashed me a huge smile and a thumbs-up. Now I know I’ve made it.

  I stopped in the center of Cedar Street for my daily moment of Zen and looked up at the news ticker.

  Monday, August 25, 2014 –Listen in Each Day at Noon to Hear the Story of Brown Sugar in Minnesota…

  I looked back up at Bill and smiled. I returned his thumbs up and entered the building with my head held a little higher than ever before.

  Chapter 20

  Over the Atlantic Ocean

  “Do you Cooper Smith take Soojin Kim to be your wife?”

  “I do.”

  Everything after those two words was a blur. I worked every night and weekend with Soojin on Governor Knutson’s campaign. On Election Day, he won re-election with just over fifty percent of the vote.

  The very next day, Soojin and I were on a flight heading east across the big pond for a much-needed European honeymoon. Just as I was about to fall asleep, Soojin leaned over and said, “You know, the next time you are in a safe house, and a guy who goes by ‘Tank’ is after you …” Soojin paused. “You might want to call me in to be your body guard.”

  I smiled. “That’s a good idea Mrs. Smith. I didn’t realize they taught you how to deal with a scenario like that in Taekwondo.”

  “Mrs. Smith still sounds so funny to me. I guess it will take a while to get used to.” Soojin laughed.

  “So, I guess now would be the best time to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Right before I left work yesterday, Bill called me into his office.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me my job was secure for a while following the success of the Brown Sugar story. He also said he was sending me on a ‘special’ assignment to one of the most dangerous places in the world as soon as we return from our honeymoon.”

  Soojin turned to face me. “Really? I’ll start naming places and you nod once I’ve guessed correctly.”

  “Okay, go.”

  “Syria, Iraq, Yemen, Afghanistan, Iran, North Korea…”

  I shook my head at all of her guesses. Then, with a straight face, I said, “Actually it’s more dangerous than all of those places combined – and it’s right here in America.”

  “Where is it?”

  “North Dakota,” I replied. “The rough and tumble oil fields of western North Dakota.”

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not have been possible without the support and encouragement from my family and friends. Also, words cannot express my gratitude to editor Lacey Louwagie for her professional advice and assistance in polishing this manuscript. Although the final editorial decisions are all my own, Lacey provided valuable guidance. Lastly, thanks to the special people of Minnesota for making our home the greatest state in all the land.

  About the Author

  Joe Field is a thriller writer whose debut book, Brown Sugar in Minnesota, features Minnesota Public Radio reporter Cooper Smith. Field is a Minnesota native, and is a member of the International Thriller Writers. Subscribe to email alerts on Field’s website, and follow on Amazon.

  joefield.net

  amazon.com/author/joefield

  If you enjoyed Brown Sugar in Minnesota, please check out

  Black Gold in North Dakota

  COOPER SMITH BOOK 2