Wounded Falcon: Brotherhood Protectors World

by Jesse Jacobson

  “It all got swept under the rug,” Andrews said.

  “So, Falcon never actually knew you were hired to execute him?” Love asked.

  “Incorrect. In fact, he did know, because I told him,” Rainhorse admitted. “I wanted him to know what kind of people he worked for. They bought Falcon’s silence. They gave him a big pension and dismissed him in exchange for a non-disclosure agreement. It allowed him to double his money. He went to work in the private sector and made good money on top of his FBI pension. He was a happy guy.”

  “Right up until the time someone killed him,” Love said. “And it begs the question of . . . who killed him and why?”

  “Your FBI Chief of Internal Security, Greg Alt,” Rainhorse said. “Or one of his lackeys. But . . . I am betting it was Alt himself.”

  “What?” Love exclaimed. “Why would he do that?”

  “Actually, I am not sure why,” Rainhorse said. “I just know he did it.”

  “I think I know why,” Andrews said. “During the course of the investigation, I discovered Jamal Davis was deep in debt to several casinos in Las Vegas.”

  “So, the man had a gambling problem,” Love said. “That doesn’t mean . . .”

  “He had a major gambling problem,” Andrews said. “He had markers up to his eyeballs; those markers were being held by the mob. He owed five times his net worth. That’s why the authorities believed it was a mob hit. Up until five minutes ago, I thought so, too.”

  “I think I follow,” Love said. “All went well until Falcon gambled his way into deep financial trouble. The mob threatened to cut off a few of his appendages. Falcon must have figured, the FBI paid him off once. Why not go back to the well?”

  “He must have gotten desperate,” Love proposed.

  “I agree, and then he decided to pay his old buddy, Director Rice, a visit,” Andrews interjected.

  Love nodded, “He threatens to expose Rice and Operation Wounded Falcon to the press if Rice doesn’t pay him off, again.”

  “It has to be,” Andrews agreed. “Rice brings Kelsey in. They see an opportunity. They know Davis is ass-deep in debt. If he dies, everyone is going to look at the people holding his gambling notes, which is exactly what happened.”

  “They call Alt and Alt takes care of the problem,” Love added. “No more Davis. No more problem.”

  “Until now,” Rainhorse interjected.

  “Right,” Love said. “The investigation leads nowhere, and dies, but the family is not convinced, so they sue the FBI. Andrews gets assigned to the case by mistake. Rice and Kelsey figure Andrews will find the truth. They know you two know each other. This was a big mess in the making, so they decided to eliminate all the loose ends. That’s you two, and now, me. Rice needs the three of us in this room to go away. If we die, his problems are solved.”

  “Well, we are going to bring him down before he brings us down,” Rainhorse said.

  “You still haven’t told us how you intend to make that happen, Rain,” Andrews said.

  He turned and yelled toward the bedroom office, “Good point. Hold on a minute. Hey Swede!”

  “Yeah?” Swede hollered back.

  “You ready?”

  “Yep,” he called out. “Come on in.”

  Chapter 20

  “I don’t understand what I’m looking at,” Andrews said, looking at Swede’s computer monitor.”

  “My old boss, Barnabas Quince, was as clever as the devil himself,” Rainhorse said. “He always looked for leverage to hold over people when he needed something.”

  “Why did he need leverage against Rice?” Love asked.

  “Why do you think? Barnabas was a bad man who wasn’t getting any nicer. He figured sooner or later he’d find himself in hot water, and a little leverage with the FBI was a good thing for him.”

  “So . . . the thumb drive is the leverage?” Andrews asked.

  Rainhorse nodded.

  “What’s on it?”

  “When it looked like Rice was going to take the fall for the FBI screw-up which allowed al-Qaeda to identify Falcon, he approached Barnabas Quince personally to take out a contract on Jamal Davis’ life.”

  “Jesus, did Quince record the conversation he had with Director Rice?” Love asked.

  “On video as well as audio,” Rainhorse affirmed. “Quince had a lapel pin that contained a tiny camera. He got Rice on tape not only ordering the hit on his own agent, but discussing two other occasions where he had paid Quince to eliminate his enemies, illegally. Rice eventually discovered Quince had this tape. It was one of the reasons Quince remained at large as long as he did.”

  “You acquired that video from Barnabas, didn’t you?” Andrews asked.

  Rainhorse shrugged.

  “That video was on the thumb drive that you gave to Summer Rose Red Feather,” Love realized. “When Rice realized what Summer Rose held a video of his and Quince’s conversation, he about shit himself. He would have agreed to anything.”

  “But he would never forget,” Andrews added.

  Rainhorse shrugged again, “That and wire transfers from Rice to Quince, along with a few encrypted emails between Quince and Rice. It’s all damning.”

  “You used that thumb drive to blackmail Rice and secure your unconditional release from prison, and to get Andrews’ job back when he was fired.”

  Rainhorse winked at Love, “Actually, Summer Rose threw in the thing about Andrews on the fly at the last minute. I’m glad she did it, but I had nothing to with that one.”

  “Well, it worked,” Love said. “Holy shit. If the video comes to light, Rice will go to jail for the rest of his life.”

  “Kelsey, too, for covering it up,” Andrews added.

  “How do we get the video to the right people?” Love asked.

  “That is where my friend Swede, comes in,” Rainhorse said. “Tell them what you are doing, Swede.”

  “I’ve uploaded the video onto a private server and am getting ready to send the link to Hank Patterson,” Swede said. “Hank will forward the link to the Attorney General of the United States, the Secretary of Homeland Security and the president’s chief of staff.”

  “And . . .” Rainhorse prompted.

  “Along with an email from Rainhorse detailing how Rice used FBI resources in an attempt to murder Agent Love and how he intended to murder Agent Andrews.”

  “Wow, this is huge!” Andrews said. “When that video gets viewed, Rice and Kelsey will be arrested immediately.”

  “And the pressure will be off us,” Love added.

  “Not for a while,” Andrews contended. “We’ll have a lot of explaining to do, but in the end, we’ll both be exonerated.”

  “Unless they kill us,” Love pointed out.

  “To that end, I need you to listen to me carefully,” Rainhorse said. “Once Swede hits that button a mountain of shit like you have never seen before is going to hit the fan. No matter how innocent you both are, some of that crap is going to blow back in your direction. Even if this all goes our way, both of you will be subjected to a major investigation, maybe even charged with a crime. You might even get suspended.”

  Love and Andrews both nodded—they understood.

  “To that end, it is important that you both hire Summer Rose Red Feather as your attorney.”

  “Your attorney?” Andrews replied. “Why do we need to hire your attorney?”

  “Because if things begin to unravel, the only way I can really help you is through her.”

  “Rainhorse, I appreciate everything you’ve done so far, but Summer Rose does not have that level of experience,” Love said.

  “I know,” Rainhorse admitted. “If it comes down to it, Summer Rose can bring in help, but she needs to be the lead attorney. Agreed?”

  Andrews looked at Love. She smiled at him and nodded.

  “Agreed,” Andrews said.

  “Shall I hit the send button, then?” Swede asked.

  “Damn straight,” Love barked. “Hit that sucker.
”

  “Agent Andrews?”

  “You heard the lady,” he replied.

  Swede smiled and hit the send button. A loud annoying beep was heard. Swede’s smile faded as he hit the button again. The same loud beep was heard.

  “What’s wrong?” Love asked.

  “The satellite is down,” Swede replied.

  “So, your video didn’t go through?” Andrews asked.

  “No, it didn’t,” Swede replied.

  “It is your computer,” Rainhorse said.

  “No, my computer’s fine,” Swede contended. “It’s the satellite itself. Someone has taken the entire satellite offline.”

  Rainhorse moved to the window.

  “Rice!” exclaimed Andrews. “He’s the only one powerful enough to do this. He must have found out about this.”

  “We have a big problem,” Rainhorse announced. “Look out the window.”

  Andrews pulled back the curtain two inches and saw what Rainhorse saw.

  “What is it?” Love asked.

  “The SWAT team is parked on the street,” Andrews said. “There are thirty men outside. Director Rice is out there too. I also see Agent Emily Carlisle.”

  “She’s the young agent you’ve been mentoring?” Love asked.

  “That’s her.”

  Love peeked out the window.

  “How did they find us?” Swede asked.

  “They are the FBI,” Andrews said. “It was only a matter of time.”

  “We’re trapped,” Love said. “Why haven’t they just stormed the place already?”

  “Protocols,” Andrews said. “We are in a residential neighborhood. Rain, is there any reason to suspect they know you and Swede are here, too?”

  “No,” Rainhorse said. “I am certain they do not know I am here.”

  The SWAT Commander will still proceed with extreme caution. He realizes they are facing two well-trained FBI agents.”

  “Rice will order them in,” Love said.

  “Maybe not right away,” Andrews replied. “The SWAT commander is in charge out there, not Rice. He knows he is operating in a heavily populated civilian neighborhood and that’s he’s up against formidable opponents. He will not put his men at risk until he assesses the situation.”

  Love was just about to respond when the loud electronic squeal of a megaphone pierced the airwaves from the outside.

  “This is SWAT Commander Thomas Felton with the FBI!” came the voice. “Your house is surrounded. It’s over, Jim. Lay down your weapons and come out with your hands on your head.”

  Chapter 21

  “This should be easy,” Love said. “We’ll just give ourselves up. We allow them to take us into custody and we explain everything.”

  “You think Rice hasn’t thought of that?” Andrews said. “First, the video was never uploaded. That thumb drive will never see the light of day. He’ll confiscate and destroy it immediately, leaving us with zero evidence of any impropriety on his part.”

  “Second,” Andrews continued, “the chances of us making it back to headquarters alive are slim. Rice will instruct SWAT to shoot on sight at the slightest provocation but even if we give ourselves up, he’s probably arranged for some special transport controlled by his own men. That transport will never make it back to the Federal detention center with us in it.”

  “Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” Love snapped.

  “What do you think, Rainhorse?” Andrews asked. “You haven’t said anything.”

  “The man with the bullhorn,” Rainhorse said, “he called you ‘Jim,’ not ‘Agent Andrews.’ Do you know him?”

  “I do,” Andrews replied. “I’ve worked with him several times over the years.”

  “Is he a good man?”

  “Very good. He’s honest and loyal to the bureau.”

  “And does he respect you?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Talk to him then,” Rainhorse said. “Right here, right now. Do you have your work phone?”

  “Yes, the battery is out of it but I have it. What do I say?”

  “You will know what to say,” Rainhorse replied. “It is your gift for gab that kept me from killing you once . . . maybe twice.”

  Andrews frowned.

  “Rainhorse is right, Jim,” Love agreed. “Tell him what you know. Create doubt in his mind. Have him talk to Agent Carlisle. The woman thinks you walk on water. They know you are incapable of doing the things you’ve been accused of doing.”

  Andrews retrieved his phone and opened the back to replace the battery.

  “I have an idea,” Swede interjected.

  “What idea?” Rainhorse asked.

  Swede looked at Andrews, “Keep them talking. I need five minutes.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Sorry, can’t waste time explaining . . . five minutes. Buy me five minutes.”

  The sound of the bullhorn wailed through the air once again, “Come out now, or we are coming in. You have sixty seconds to surrender.”

  Andrews powered up the phone, found the number and dialed. It rang four times before it was answered.

  “Tom,” Andrews said. “It’s Jim. Don’t come in. We intend to surrender.”

  “You need to come out now, Jim,” SWAT Commander Felton replied. “The last thing in the world I want to do is send in tear gas and then shoot you down, but Rice is up my ass to enter and shoot on sight. I can’t hold him off any longer.”

  “Can Rice hear you now?” Andrews asked.

  “Not at the moment, but he’s eyeballin’ me.”

  “You have to keep him at bay for a bit longer, Tom,” Andrews insisted. “Rice wants us dead because he’s dirty and we are holding evidence that proves it.”

  “If that’s true, then give yourself up. We’ll make sure you’re safe,” Felton replied.

  “It won’t work, Tom,” Andrews insisted. “Rice will confiscate the evidence. He’ll destroy it.”

  “That’s not my problem, Jim, I’m sorry. I have my orders. Now, come on out.”

  “Tom, he’s going to kill us, even if we turn ourselves in,” Andrews claimed.

  There was a pause. Andrews had caused him to think about it.

  “Did you hear me, Tom?”

  “Yeah, I heard you. That’s a serious charge, Jim,” Felton replied. “Do you have any evidence to support that? Anything at all to back that accusation up?”

  “Our transport,” Andrew replied.

  “What about it?”

  “The protocol is for SWAT to transport prisoners to a federal holding cell in a SWAT-escorted armor vehicle. The transport would normally be under your authority. Right?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, Rice is going to use his authority to circumvent that protocol.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because if Agent Love and I make it out alive, he’s going to use his own people to transport us. We’ll never make it to the detention center, Tom. He’ll make us disappear. I don’t know how, but he will.”

  There was another pause on the other end of the line.

  “Tom?” Andrews called out. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Director Rice did arrange a private transport for you,” Felton answered. “He intends to take custody of you and Love if you survive capture.”

  Andrews made a mental note that Felton only referenced himself and Agent Love. No mention of Rainhorse or Swede. Rainhorse was right. The FBI didn’t know the other two men were with them.

  “And take us where?” Andrews asked.

  “I don’t know where.”

  “This is all bullshit, Tom,” Andrews pleaded. “You know it and I know it. They’ll come up with some lame excuse that we attempted to escape and had to shoot us. It will be all staged. Don’t let it happen, Tom.”

  Swede stood in the doorway and caught Andrews’ attention.

  Andrews nodded in acknowledgement.

  “Tom, I need to call you back.”


  “I can’t wait, Andrews,” he said.

  “Tom, you’ve known me for twenty years. I’m asking for three minutes more. Give me three minutes. I’ll call you right back.”

  “No.”

  “Tom, please . . . three minutes.”

  There was a pause.

  “Okay, three minutes. Not one second more.”

  Andrews hung up, “What do you have?” he asked.

  “I’ve uploaded the video to YouTube,” Swede said. “It’s under the title of ‘FBI Director hires assassin to kill his own Agent.’”

  “YouTube?” Andrews repeated.

  “Yeah, why not,” Swede said. “They have 1.3 billion users.”

  Love immediately reached for her phone and dialed a number.

  “Who are you calling?” Andrews asked.

  “Carlisle.”

  “Why Carlisle?”

  “I thought the satellite was down,” Rainhorse said, interrupting.

  “It is, but I remembered you telling me that the office had a basic internet connection,” Swede said. “The FBI took down the satellite but they didn’t think about shutting down basic cable internet.”

  “Great job, Swede,” Rainhorse said.

  “Won’t the FBI realize the video is there and take it down, too?”

  “I’ve thought of that,” Swede said. “I sent the video to my network of I.T. friends and asked each of them to upload the video to five to ten more sites each, and then email the video to every network station in their area. That video will be on CNN, Fox, NBC, and CBS within twenty minutes. Hell, it may even turn up on ESPN.”

  “Rainhorse, you and Swede be quiet,” Andrews said, dialing the SWAT Commander’s number. “I don’t think they know you’re here. I’m going to tell him Love uploaded the video.”

  Rainhorse and Swede both nodded.

  “Tom?”

  “Talk to me, Jim,” Felton answered, “and it better be good.”

  “Listen, Tom. Agent Love has just uploaded evidence that Rice is dirty onto YouTube.”

  Andrews heard a male voice calling out to Felton, “Commander, what the fuck is going on?”

  It was Director Rice’s voice. The voice was faint but Andrews could hear it in the background.