by De'Kari
Meanwhile something that they were able to do now was monitor all the sites such as Hood Videos, World Star and track the people that are watching and sharing the video on their social media sites.
Those that viewed the video more than once or shared the video would be tagged and a background analysis would be done on them. The information would be stored in their database until needed. The order had already given to begin the operation.
The problem was, so far, they have been on the defensive dealing with this entire situation. Always one step behind, chasing the culprit. They needed to get ahead of the ball and take the offensive.
Andreatta knew this. It was time for her team to hit the ground rolling. She reached for her Galaxy S8 and dialed a number…
**** N. D. ****
Santa Rosa, California
Agent Finnegan couldn’t wait to get out of the stuffy chemical suite. He felt closed in and his range of motion was limited. He hated the feeling.
Five minutes later he was done with the decontamination process and out of the chem-suit. The knowledge gained would be useful, yet he wouldn’t want to repeat the experience.
As he was putting his jacket back on, he thought of how much he would hate life if he were one of the lab-techs that worked at the Redwood Toxicology Laboratory.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the tunes of Kid Rock & Sheryl Crow “Picture Away” on his ring tone. Digging inside of his duffle bag, he received his iPhone answering without checking the caller I.D.
“Finnegan.”
“Hey, Finnegan. What do we got?” Andreatta’s voice had a slight edge to it.
“Hey boss. Your radar must’ve been going off because we actually just finished up.”
“Do we have anything?” Her gut was telling her not only did they have something, but she didn’t want to hear it.
“I’m afraid we do.” Agent Finnegan took a deep breath and sat down on the bench in front of the locker he was standing in front of. “The Techs have found that the explosive device components were dual flux, or two part. The first and major component being C-4 plastic explosives.
“However, trace analysis found traces of both fertilizer and diesel fuel. Both ingredients found in Imodium Nitrate. Also, there were traces of potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal. Commonly known as gun powder.
“The sophistication of the compounds used to construct the device shows a level of training and expertise that we hadn’t seen on our analysis of the suspect…” Andreatta was listening with one ear while thinking.
Her instincts were correct. She didn’t want to know the answer to her question. As Finnegan continued talking, her mind was running. The terrorist having advance explosive training was not a good thing at all, for anyone.
“…this new element added with our knowledge of his other training, in fact makes this a level 1 threat. “Finnegan concluded.
“Well, the fact that he is operating alone still at this point in time keeps that threat level down. However, I do agree with your assessment and I concur with your sentiments in regard to the new dynamics that this information adds to the case.”
“In fact, I was just thinking to myself that we need to take a more aggressive approach to finding Mr. Jenkins.” SAC Andreatta ran off a few ideas she had in her head to Finnegan.
They continued to talk for another ten minutes before hanging up.
Finnegan and Daly were meeting up after he finished at the lab. He told Andreatta there was no need for her to call Daly and fill him in. Finnegan would take care of it.
It took another fifteen minutes to receive a folder of the schematics of the work ups that the lad had available so far. After retrieving this, Finnegan was on his way to meet Agent Daly who had been working on a lead.
**** N. D. ****
Chapter XXI Tracy
San Joaquin County Sheriff’s Deputy Purtle was having a rough day and was wondering if it could possibly get any worse. As she sat down in the driver’s seat of her Hyundai Elantra, she thought over her day.
She’d woke up at 4:00am and began her morning thirty-minute aerobics. She had started this routine last week after gaining sixty-eight pounds this past summer, not to mention the big saggy fat ass that came with it.
Not more then ten minutes into the routine she over did a move and pulled a muscle in the hamstring in her left leg. The fucking pain bothered her still. She extended her leg involuntarily just thinking about it.
Later on, at the San Joaquin County Jail where she worked, she and one of her many lovers thought it would be hot to sneak into the Lieutenants office during his morning meeting and fuck around. As he sat in the lieutenants chair she had given him a blow job.
Ordinarily she would’ve gotten the job done in under five minutes. However, she kept concentrating on her leg because of the pain. It was over ten minutes when the Lieutenant walked into his office.
She was placed on leave and sent home. To make shit even worse, on her way home she decided to stop by the grocery store to grab a few things. She caught a flat tire in the parking lot of Safeway.
She dug around the bag until she found what she was looking for her Mr. Good Bar. After the day she’d had, she didn’t give a fuck about her diet. She ripped into the wrapper and devoured the candy bar.
After sucking the milk chocolate off her fingers, she started her car and pulled out of the parking lot. Her air conditioner was blowing nice and hard, so the valley heat that was outside didn’t bother her one bit.
She slowed and stopped at the red light. She used this time to dig into the bag and grab her blueberry and nut yogurt parfait and a spoon. The light was still red, so she turned on her radio.
Her favorite CD automatically came to life. She opened her parfait and took a bite. It was only 10:30am, but the temperature was already a scorching ninety degrees. The light finally turned green and she drove on, turning left and merging onto highway 4 she began singing along to her favorite song with a mouth full of yogurt parfait.
“Living my life in a slow hell/a different girl every night in the motel/I ain’t seen the sun shine in 3 damn days/ been fueling up on cocaine and whiskey/ wish I had a good girl who missed me/ Lord I wonder if I ever change my ways/”
The music was blaring through the speakers. As she sped down an empty highway 4 singing at the top of her twenty-nine-year-old lungs, she slowly began to forget about the shitty start to her morning.
She was so lost in herself that she neva paid attention to the black SUV approaching in her rearview. Kid Rock was singing about putting her picture away and in her mind, he was right in the car singing to her instead of Sheryl Crow.
The more she got in tune with the song, the faster she drove. When the parfait was empty she just tossed the container into the passenger seat. She sucked and licked every inch of the spoon, cleaning it completely of any residue. She turned it into a little microphone just as Sheryl Crow began.
“Living my life in a slow hell/everyone knows but they wont tell/But their half ass smiles tells me something just ain’t right/…”
The lights in her rearview mirror drew her attention causing her to stop singing. She reached over and turned the music down. With the volume down, she was able to hear the sirens that went along with the flashing lights. “What the fuck? Come on. Gimme a break.” She mumbled to herself. This had to be a day from hell.”
Only then did she notice how fast she was going. The speedometer read 88mph. Grateful that she was still in her Deputy uniform, the last thing she needed was a ticket. Usually Deputies gave one another a break. That was part of the unwritten code.
She eased her foot off the gas pedal and began to slow down, in preparation to pulling over and stopping. She even made sure to use her signal light.
After pulling over she placed the Elantra in park. Pure self-consciousness made her check herself in the mirror. Silently she said a quick prayer begging God to keep her from getting a ticket.
She watched as a black D
eputy climbed out of the SUV. He made his way to her car with even, confident strides. The hat he was wearing prevented her from being able to see his face, so she was clueless as to what his mood was.
As he approached the driver’s side, she let the window down. Throwing her chest out. She whipped her hair out of her face and smiled as friendly as she could.
“Hello, Buddy. Heyy I’m so sorry about that. I just got off work and got caught up thinking about the job.” She was trying her best since they were colleagues, she figured she would be okay.
“License and registration, ma’am, and can you please turn that music off.” He spoke cleanly and crisply. He paid her story just about as much attention as he did her chest. None!
“Uh, turn the radio off?” She was confused since she had it turned down low enough for them to hear each other.
“Bitch, I said turn the fucking radio off! And gimme yo fucking license and registration!” The bass in which he yelled at her scared her so much she jumped in the seat.
Fearfully and frantically, she turned the radio off and reached for her purse. She was so fearful, she was having trouble pulling her drivers license out of her wallet. Her frustration with the plastic I.D. holder brought all of the bad shit from today to the surface. She was fuming when she finally turned around with the driver’s license and registration in her hand.
“You didn’t have to be so damn rude about it.” She was busy looking at the registration when she spoke those words. She neva saw the fist that came through her window.
BLAM!
The force of the blow was so powerful, that it broke her jaw. The moment Deputy Purtle began talking, the man outside her window swung with his left arm punching her in the face through the driver’s window.
Deputy Purtle didn’t know what had happened to her. Her vision wavered from the blow. She blinked trying to clear her vision.
BLAM!
Another blow crashed into her jaw. This blow shattered the bone to pieces. The drivers side door was forcefully yanked open. The deputy tried to scream, but the pain in her jaw only allowed a strange sound to emit.
Deputy Purtle was terrified as she was violently snatched out of her car. Kicking and trying to scream, she was dragged across the pavement to the back of the SUV.
A single motorist passed by as this was happening. At first the driver was alarmed by what he was seeing, until he saw the letters F.B.I. T.A.C.T. Unit stenciled across the sides of the black S.U.V.
Purtle didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. From the response she received the first time she opened her mouth, there was no way she was going to speak again.
She laid curled up on the floor of the SUV numb and in a traumatic state. Fear gripped and in a world of pain, she prayed through her fears.
As the vehicle sped down the highway, for the first time she began wondering what if this man was not a member of law enforcement at all. That horrifying thought was so unbearably frightening that she urinated on herself.
Retracing her day in her mind, she couldn’t help but to think that if she was neva sent home this wouldn’t not have happened. Had she not foolishly gone into the lieutenant’s office to give Deputy Adela a blow job she would not have gotten sent home. Thus, she would not be in this predicament.
Her head was really throbbing. The head ache she had felt like it would split her head in two. The throbbing started in her jaw and went up to the side of her left face until it met her head ache and the two became one enormous pain. The last thing she remembered was asking God was she going to die today.
They had been driving for too long for her to believe that they were headed for the San Joaquin County Jail, or any jail for that matter.
She wondered if this was her punishment for being so promiscuous. Payback for all the times she’d committed adultery. After her prayer she passed out from the pain.
Deputy Purtle awoke when her head smacked into the wall of the make-shift metal cage. The first thing she noticed was that it was getting dark.
The road they were traveling on was very bumpy. Purtle was only a jail guard and not a full patrol deputy. The training that a street deputy has to pay attention to certain things like sounds and smells to get a grasp of location, she didn’t possess.
The S.U.V. came to a sudden stop. Purtle tried her best to sit up and look out of the windows. When she heard the ignition cut off the fear returned.
Her heart beat rapidly and beads of sweat appeared on her clammy forehead.
“God please. I’m so sorry for the way that I’ve been living. Lord, just protect me and get me through this. I promise I’ll change.” The sound of her muffled voice was alien in her ears.
Over the hours since her jaw was shattered, and she was abducted the side of her face had swollen up bigger then a grapefruit. Just to opening her mouth caused her so much pain that her eyes watered.
She could hear his footprints crunching on the gravel as he made his way to the back of the vehicle. Every time one of his feet landed she would hear a loud BOOM inside of her head.
Could this really be happening to her? She wondered. He whistled as he walked, which only added to her torment.
When the back doors came open, Purtle whimpered like an injured animal.
“Let’s go.” His tone said he was zero tolerance for the bullshit.
She climbed down out of the back of the stolen FBI Tactical Assault Vehicle with wobbly legs. Once her feet were on the ground, he slammed the door and snatched her by the back of her neck.
The frightened woman didn’t have any idea where they were. All she could see were trees. There was a single old shack looking house in front of them about fifty yards . Her captor roughly guided her towards it by the back of her neck.
The stairs that they climbed up to the porch were just about as old as the house, if not older. They creaked loudly as they stepped on them. The moment she crossed over the threshold a bone wrenching chill traveled down her spine causing her to hesitate. He squeezed the back of her neck and forced her on.
He guided her by the back of her neck through the dust and mold smelling house towards the back of the house. The dust and mold spores were so thick in the air, they caused her to gag and choke.
A large rat, about the size of a college football, scurried away from them with a piece of only God knows what in its mouth.
Stopping at the last door, he reached in the pocket of his pants for another set of keys. The door and the frame were the only new looking things she saw. Both looked to be made of a dark heavy metal. Purtle didn’t even realize that she was holding her breath until he managed to get the heavy door open and she gasped out loud.
The room looked like it was a photo or video studio. There were all types of big lights positioned in different places around the room. There was a laptop and some other electronic gear all centered around a grotesque looking chair.
It looked like something out of a horror movie. A chair from the forgotten scenes of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. There were chains and manacles all over it ,with some type of cords or wires hanging from it. The whole setup screamed torture.
“I’m not going repeat myself and I’m not going to raise my voice.” He began as he shoved her into the room. “If I tell you to do something and if you don’t, you’re gonna wish that you had.” He took a step towards her and looked into her eyes. “Do you understand me?”
Once again, the chill went down her spine causing goose bumps to appear all over her body. She shivered and subconsciously took one step backwards while nodding her head up and down saying “yes.”
“I’m glad we understand each other. Now strip! Take every last stitch off.” There was no emotion in his voice as he ordered her to get butt naked.
**** N. D. ****
Chapter XXII
Mountain View, California
It was a night like no other. The entire place was jam packed with everybody from everywhere. The guests ranged from people in the music and fashion industries to the
Underworld Elite. This was the first red carpet event of its kind in Northern California and it was set off right.
Mozzy blazed the stage with “Peres Calling,” “Bladadah” and “Afraid.” Young Ma came through and did her famous “freestyle” and killed the building with “Ooui.”
The moment Nikki Minaj came out, it set the record straight on what type of event this really was. The Shoreline Amphitheatre looked like mini Hollywood.
The prior cancellations and rescheduling help to make it one of the most anticipated and talked about events of the year. T.V. stations and media from everywhere came out to take part of the World Premier of Satin Doll.
French Tip wasn’t smiling, she was cheesing. It was the night she’d dreamed of forever and it was amazing. No drug or aphrodisiac could compare. She was truly happy.
The organizer, a short, gay, black man, who was as hyper as an eight-year-old after eating a bag full of candy, me speed walking right up to her.
“Miss French Tip, girl you need to listen to me. Now I know you said you wanted to just sit and watch the show from the sideline. Hmph, but look, girl, I’ve been doing this for nearly fifteen years and girl I am telling you, you need to be on the stage for the next segment.” His mouth was running a mile a minute.
French Tip opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off and held his hand up in the air like he wasn’t trying to hear it.
“Unh Unh! Now, girl, don’t you try arguing with me. Now, you done hired me to make sure that your show was a success. No, not a success girl, the bomb! So, don’t try stopping me from doing what I do. You need to gone and get yo pretty, black ass to changing and get ready to go on stage.” French Tip had a look of pure shock on her face like he had just slapped her.
“Ooh, unh unh! No, you didn’t look at me like that when I’m just doing my job. Honey, I know all about yo gun play. Boo Boo, the streets ain’t the only thang that talk. But, listen to this ,Boo Boo, and listen to it good. You ain’t the only one from the hood, girl, so go and get changed. You going on in ten.” He didn’t wait for a response. He spun around, snapped his head back and raised a hand and stormed off.