Chapter 8

Detective Hacker entered the scantly furnished office and shut the door behind him. “Gentleman this is Lt. Gene Hacker. He has been working very closely with me on this case. He is the one who initiated the police department’s involvement in this case.” Said Captain Murphy. Hacker nodded and displayed a fake smile. Murphy concluded his introduction by going around the room pointing to individuals as Hacker grabbed a chair. “To my right is Charles Wilson from the C.I.A. Charles is looking into the possibility of an international connection.” Hacker’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t really thought of the possibility of an international connection. “Next to him is special agent Kline from the F.B.I‘s domestic terrorism unit. Sitting beside him is his assistant on this case agent Robertson.” “Lieutenant.” Robertson said acknowledging Hacker. “And lastly we have Matt Perry over there who is an undercover operative for the F.B.I.’ counterintelligence program.” Everyone began opening their folders at the table. “Let’s start with Mr. Perry’s thoughts on all this.” Agent Kline stated, taking over the meeting. Perry cleared his throat and began. “For the past 8 months I have been working surveillance on the Jackson campaign in addition to doing some volunteer work for the campaign. What I found to be very interesting is the Senator’s brother General Jackson and his security team. The General set up his brother’s security through a company called Black Guard Security and Information located in the Bronx. Their reaction to the assassination attempt was swift and deadly. We are continuing to look further into the former General’s activities and into the activities of Black Guard.” “Thank you Mr. Perry, please keep us updated.” “One last thing.” Perry interrupted. “A few hours after the assassination attempt the former General gave a speech which I attended in the auditorium on campus. Among the things he spoke about was how blacks should improve their lot in all areas, including militarily.” “Did you record it?” “No. tensions were pretty high. I didn’t want to take any chances that would create suspicion.” “That’s unfortunate. Somebody somewhere, online or wherever must have a copy of the speech. Find it. In the meantime jot down everything you remember that happened that day including the speech. Hand it over to me with a complete file on the General and his brother. Also update me on that security company. I want everything first thing in the morning.” “Yes sir.” “Also I want to arrange around the clock surveillance on both the Jackson’s and Black Guard.” “Will do.” “Agent Robertson I want you to work closely with Captain Murphy and his man Hacker in following up the leads on the White supremacist killings, the college student, and the rash of burglaries at gun shops and armories. “Mr. Wilson do you have anything to add?” “The CIA will continue to look into possible international connections and we may be able to provide some intel on the Jackson’s and their associates.” “That would be nice.” Kline said sarcastically. “Captain fill your man in on what he missed by arriving late.” The Captain nodded. “Also have N.Y.P.D reach into their files. I want to know every person in the last five years who was either a victim or alleged victim of any kind of racist attack, police brutality, or bias incident. Once you get that I want to know all of their closest friends and the families of those persons involved. Mr. Wilson perhaps the CIA can provide for us a list of black military personnel who have been discharged or retired around the same time as the General and who was in his command when he was active. Let’s cross reference all this data and see what we come up with. Gentleman we are not going to get more resources or manpower from our respective agencies until we come up with more concrete evidence. Thank you. We’ll meet here same time tomorrow unless something comes up where we have to meet sooner. Detective Hacker!” “Yes.” “Be on time.” “Hacker smiled and gave Kline a salute. “Yes sir.” Captain Murphy shook his head as he gathered his notes.

Hacker strutted toward his apartment door whistling along. This case had stirred up a new enthusiasm within him. He enjoyed the excitement and the anticipation of a possible confrontation with these black terrorist whom he was convinced existed. He was not happy with the weak support and resources from the upper management of the federal government and the police department. “What are they waiting for a massacre or some kind of disaster before they move their butts?” He told Murphy before leaving. As Hacker came closer to his apartment door he noticed it was slightly opened. He immediately stopped whistling, slowed down his strut, and slowly placed the two six packs of Budweiser on the hallway floor. He reached inside of his tan trench coat and pulled out his snub nose .38. With the nozzle pointing up Hacker cautiously pushed the door open with his foot. His eyes were bulging as he entered the apartment quickly. He immediately scanned the living room area with his .38 now pointing out toward the area where the debris from the search lie spread out across the room. His couch was turned over and ripped to shreds. The lamp had been broken along with the plasma TV. Hacker swiftly passed by the kitchen entrance looking for anything moving. The refrigerator door was open along with all the cabinets. A jar of mayonnaise and spaghetti sauce was broken and lay on the worn yellow linoleum. Milk had been poured out all over the counter. Hacker tiptoed toward the bathroom as he heard water running. He kicked opened the closed door and stood by the side of the wall ready to fire. The bathtub was overflowing. The shower curtain had been pulled down and torn. He carefully backed away from the bathroom leaving the water running and headed toward the bedroom. As he approached, the smell of fresh paint got stronger. Peeking in he saw his dresser draws pulled out and clothes sprawled on the carpet along with his bed spread. He cautiously entered the room and quickly pulled open the closet with his gun pointing at the empty hangers. He rested his gun and arm by his side. He looked stunned as he looked at the red paint which was thrown on his sheets and headboard and the black paint splashed on his walls. Hacker went on to search the entire house again. He stood puzzled in the middle of the living room trying to figure out if anything was missing. Suddenly he heard someone by the front door. He pointed his weapon toward the door. “Don’t shoot!” Max his downstairs neighbor hollered with his hands held high. “Max dammit you almost got yourself killed.” “I just came up because water was coming down in my bathroom.” Max said with his hands still up. “Put your damn hands down.” Hacker said. As Max put down his hands he got a glimpse of the apartment. “My god what happened?” “Max go back downstairs. I’m sorry about the water; I’ll take care of it.” Max, looking astonished, backed away and retrieved to his apartment. Hacker stepped out into the hallway; retrieved his beer, and went back into the apartment. He dialed Captain Murphy’s number. “Murph; somebody broke into my apartment.” “What did they take?” “I don’t know yet. The place is a total mess. It looks more like vandalism then burglary. Somebody doesn’t like me.” “Well that narrows the suspects down to a few hundred.” “Oh, you got jokes. I don’t know, something is strange, very strange.” “I’ll send my guys right over. Don’t touch anything.” Hacker continued to scan the room. He looked up and noticed a small wire dangling from the ceiling fan. “Wait a minute Murph, hold on.” Hacker stepped through the debris and grabbed a chair. He cleared out the area under the fan and placed the chair there. He stepped up and took a closer look at the wire. He jumped back down and raced to the closet that had his tool box. “Hold on Murph, I think I may have something here.” Before the Captain could yell don’t touch anything Hacker grabbed his screw driver got back on the chair and began to loosen the ceiling fan in the area of the wire. He pulled down one side; squeezed his hand in and removed a small device attached to the wire. “Damn.” Hacker said stepping down. “Murph, it looks like someone planted a bug in my fan.” “I’m coming over don’t touch anything else. There may be more and there may be prints. It looks like we are really on to them.” Hacker responded still a bit dazed. “It looks like they’re really on to us too.”

The alarm startled Pam Green; though disoriented she managed to turn it off without looking. She peeked through the covers at the time as if she didn’t know what time she set it for which was 5:30 am. She took a deep breath and yanked the covers off her body. She walked slowly toward the bathroom dragging her feet, rubbing her eye with one hand and scratching her head with the other. She looked at herself in the mirror and turned on the cold water faucet. She bent over the sink and with two hands cupped together splashed cold water on her face three times. She turned around and grabbed a towel and began gently dabbing her pecan colored face. She walked over to the chair by her workout bench and grabbed her black shorts. She slipped them on, sat on the carpet and began her daily ritual of thirty sit ups. As she got to seven her phone began singing Alicia Keys “This girl is on fire!”. She stopped annoyed at the interruption but suspecting the urgency at this hour. “Hello.” She said. “Good morning Pam. This is Marcus. Sorry for calling so early but I wanted to catch you before you went to work.” “No problem. Loyd told me you would be calling he just didn’t say when.” “I understand you have some concerns about activities at your workplace.” “Yes I do. I found out from a loyal colleague of mine that the department is looking through their files for any race related incidents that occurred over the past five years or so. They also want a list of the persons involved in those incidents. Do you know what’s going on?” “Yes I think I do. But why would this colleague of yours share this information with you?” “She said that she was surprised that they over looked me and asked her to assist in the research. She’s a white liberal so she felt it was wrong for them to exclude me. In addition to that she wanted to see if I knew why they needed this information. Do you think they are on to me?” “I don’t think so but be careful, keep your eyes and ears open. It could very well be the nature of the assignment that they didn’t want to chance a black person inquiring as to what it was about. Or it could be they just don’t trust anyone black handling the job. Don’t act any different. If you speak with your friend again don’t probe. Let her volunteer information. Ok?” “Ok.” “By the way what’s her name?” “Mary Rosenthal.” “Can you get access to the files they want without attracting attention?” “I can do that. No problem.” “Good, here’s what I want you to do. But be very careful. Pull the same information that Mary pulls. Then call the contact number that Loyd gave you and I will get back to you to set up a meet where you will turn that information over to me. Also if you can first thing this morning pull up the name Edward Johnson. He was beaten to death by some white youth in an auto dispute. Find a way to delete that entire file from the system. Do you understand?” Pam took a deep breath. “Not a problem. That’s what I do.” “All right. One last thing. If you notice a large black man about 6’3” bald head with a beard watching you don’t be alarmed that’s my guy. His name is Warren. He will be watching you and he’ll be looking to see if anyone else besides him is watching you. If you sense anything wrong you get to Warren right away and he will take it from there.” “Ok, so when will he start?” “He is across from your house right now.” “Ok, thanks.” “I’ll let you go now. I don’t want you to be late for work that would be totally out of character for you.” Pam smiled. She was surprised that he knew of her punctuality. “Peace.” “Peace to you.” Pam answered. She sat back on the carpet and resumed her sit ups. Marcus hoped that it wasn’t too late for Pam to delete Zarida’s father’s name from the system before Mary Rosenthal submitted it to Kline, Murphy, Hacker and company.

Jack Danielson, the brother in law of Gene Hacker, was a very jealous and possessive husband who didn’t trust Gene’s Sister Renee very much. Jack got off work early and rushed home to see if he could catch Renee doing something she shouldn’t be doing. He opened the tin mail box lid and took the mail out of the box. He quietly opened the front door entered the house and immediately headed upstairs to the bedroom. To his disappointment he found no one there or anywhere in the house. Renee had gone shopping about an hour before Jack got there and had not returned. As Jack returned downstairs he headed for the bar while suspiciously sifting through the mail. He noticed a letter that had no return address. He became curious. He looked around and then started to open the letter. As soon as he tore the letter it exploded in his face tearing the skin off his face, knocking him backwards and dislodging his hands from his arms. He propelled back into the bar slamming into bottles of liquor and glasses as he landed on his back.

Catherine Murphy, the wife of Captain Murphy opened the truck of her Nissan Sentra. She put the two white plastic bags of groceries into the trunk and slammed the door shut. She hopped into the driver’s seat and started the car. She drove toward the exit sign of the Pathmark parking lot following the yellow arrows on the pavement. She exited the lot, made a left turn to the corner and then made a right after yielding at the stop sign. As she continued up the road she noticed a navy blue pickup truck very close behind her in her rear view mirror. As she made the right turn onto a semi deserted street the truck sped up and was now close on her left side. Catherine grew anxious as she looked to her left to see the person in the passenger seat of the truck looking in her direction with a red and black hockey mask on. She looked away in fear and put both hands on the steering wheel tightly in an eleven and one o’clock position as the Sentra accelerated. The pickup truck stayed along beside her. Then suddenly the truck veered a hard right slamming into Mrs. Murphy and causing her to lose control as she was jolted to the side. The Sentra went off to the right just missing a parked car and jumping the curb. She managed to slam on the breaks but it was too late as she slammed into the white brick wall of White’s Reality office. The air bag violently opened breaking her nose and jerking her head back as the truck sped away.

“Hacker!” The detective loudly screamed into the phone placing it next to his ear. “Gene, this is Murphy.” “Murph, what’s going on?” “I just finished speaking with Special Agent Kline. There seems to be some reluctance from the boys upstairs and in Washington to provide us with any more manpower or resources than we already have.” “Damn, what’s their reason behind that?” “It Seems that they feel there isn’t enough evidence to support our theory or to connect the incidents.” “Is that right? So I guess they are either waiting for a disaster or written confirmation from the bad guys.” Hacker said sarcastically. “We’ll just have to work with we have and press on. I did take the liberty of assigning some of my people to assist us off the record. By the way forensics hasn’t come up with anything yet regarding you apartment.” “All right, but there’s something there. Keep pressuring them. I got a bad feeling these guys are planning something big. They’ve accumulated quite an arsenal of weapons and money. I don’t think they are going to just sit on it. I can’t believe the suits don’t see that.” “Kline also mentioned that there is some concern about racial tensions stirring up. Hold on Gene I’ve got another call, probably Kline again.” There was a pause and then Murphy returned sound very distressed. “Jesus Gene my wife’s been in an accident. I have to go. I’ll call you later. Hacker put his phone down as his mind began to race. He wondered if he was becoming paranoid or was everything that was going on connected. First his apartment and now the Captains wife in an apparent accident. The phone rang snapping him out of his thoughts. “Hacker.” “Gene?” “Betty? Is that you? What’s wrong?” His sister Betty began crying hysterically. He could hear her blowing her nose and sniffing attempting to gather herself. “Renee, what’s wrong?” He yelled anxiously. “Gene, there’s been an accident.” “What kind of accident? Are the kids all right?” He asked urgently. “Jack’s been hurt.” “What happened?” “Jack’s been hurt really bad. He’s critical. They don’t think he is going to make it. His hands are gone.” She began crying again. “Calm down Renee. Try to tell me what happened.” “I can’t recognize his face.” “Renee, what happened?” He asked again. “It seems there was some kind of explosion in the house. He wasn’t even supposed to be home. Can you just come to the hospital? We’re at Queens General.” “I’ll be right there.” He hung up. Fury was building up in him. Too many accidents; too many coincidences. He thought to himself as he rushed out the door.

The large white U-Haul type truck parked in front of the Pell Street apartment building in Chinatown. The large red lettering on the side of the truck read Good Works General Contractors. The occupants; Marcus, Tony Williamson, Larry, Warren and two others emerged from the truck dressed like construction workers hard hats and all. They were met by a tall slender Chinese man known only as Mr. Wong. Wong was a former Chinese intelligence agent who owned an import/export company, a shipping company, and was a major weapons dealer. He met General Jackson in Liberia and they formed an alliance based on the fact that Wong hated the U.S. and sympathized with the African American plight. “Gentleman, follow me.” He said taking his last puff on a cigarette and leading them into the building. They followed him down a dimly lit stairway to the basement. As they walked through the hallway at the bottom of the steps several other Chinese men kept a close eye on them with weapons bulging from their jackets. As they approached a doorway two large men frisked them before allowing them to enter. “I apologize for the search but it is a necessary precaution.” Said Wong. “No problem.” Tony answered. They proceeded through a room full of fireworks piled to the ceiling to another room behind a black curtain that took the place of a door. Wong directed them to an area where a stockpile of both wooden and metal crates were. Wong’s men began carefully opening up the crates for Tony and Marcus to observe. In the crates were RPG’s, short barrel M-16’s, suppressors, grenades, and communication equipment. “Your men can begin loading those while I show you and Marcus what we have over there.” Wong said as Warren two others and three of Wong’s men began lifting the crates in teams of two. More of Wong’s men stood by the larger crates that Wong directed Tony and Marcus to. They began opening up the crates exposing the contents: Three hand- held mini surveillance drones, C4 explosives, and two larger S-101 “Black Eagle” drones. Marcus and Tony took deep breaths at the same time, looked at each other and smiled but said nothing. “The two Black Eagles obviously have to be assembled which you can do at another location, where you will also pack them with the C4. The instructions which are in the crate are quite simple and direct. You should have no problem, but if you do you know how to get in touch.” He said looking at Tony. “Give the General my regards. My men will assist you in loading. Good luck and be well.” Wong said as he embraced Tony and then Marcus.