As John’s unit finished up the morning exercises of their late meeting, he noticed a familiar face at the door. Although he had avoided Ryst thus far, he wasn’t sure how friendly this next encounter would turn out. John grabbed his things, bypassed the man, and headed straight to his office. The man, Captain Dave Goldman, followed in behind him and gently closed the door.
“I heard you were putting in for some vacation time this week son. You should have let me know; I’d have taken some time off with you.”
“Dammit, I’m sick of his ass,” John told his dad.
“Well, you know I’d have to say that your new captain isn’t the most likeable person; Neil Hudson was a good man. It was sad to see Neil go last year. I know you and Hudson had your ups and downs, but he was a good guy.”
“I have to agree Hudson was a tad bit more reasonable, but Dave, how am I supposed to do my job now with Ryst watching over me like I’m a damn rookie?”
“John, what have I taught you about relationships, Son?”
“I don’t know?” John reluctantly answered, which of course was a lie. Dave had tried to teach John a great deal about the dynamics of human relationships. John knew for instance that there were different types of relationships such as family, friends, co-workers, one night stands etc. Of course, all of these relationships were on different levels. Some were closer than others, some came by choice, some by chance. The problem was however, that John had difficulty in dealing with many areas of, well, any relationship of any kind on any level, and of course, one of his worst problems was communicating with authority figures in a positive manner. He especially struggled in dealing with those over him that seemed to be low IQ in his view and with those by the book “sheep” of the world. In John’s humble opinion, as he had pondered before, Ryst just happened to be both. Sure, he could be manipulative in order to get some of the things he wanted some of the time from Ryst, but his manic tendencies tended to lean toward the angry, irritable side when he had to deal with Captain Asshole Ryst.
“John, I think each relationship you have in life has its own core, its own layers. The core emanates from the type and reasoning of the relationship, and the layers, the discoveries of how to mold and manipulate the core. In this case, you, I think you have to more patiently handle your strategic manipulation of Mr. Ryst. You can’t simply stab through the layers and not try to understand why they’re there or how they got there John. It would benefit you greatly I think to stop and slow down. For just a minute, exit your mind and enter upon his. What do his actions, his decisions up to now reflect? I want you to think about that. Instead of figuring out every damned, agitated way you can to show him how his thoughts and actions piss you off, add his visions to your memory files, and that will help you have a better chance of persuading the asshole in your favor a little more next time.
You have a brilliant mind John, and that is why you are such a damn good detective. When it comes to dealing with relationships in front of you though, distant or close, you are still struggling with a lack of control of your emotions and your actions. You need to try and stop and reason out your thoughts and emotions before you act on them, Son. I can’t always be your safety net here, John. I love you so much son; but you’ve got to work on keeping your ass out of the fire.”
“Well, I don’t need you to be my damn safety net, Dave, alright! I don’t need your charity!” John responded while becoming more frustrated and annoyed with the entire situation at hand.
“Okay, John. We’ll talk later, after you’ve calmed down some.”
It was hard for John to leave his dad, Dave, thinking that he had gotten into that stupid barroom brawl. He wanted so much to tell him that that was bullshit just like he wished he could tell him that his informant proved that Ryst was truly full of shit, but he knew he couldn’t. That was probably one of the hardest things for him to deal with, for him to know that he had disappointed Dave somewhat under false pretenses. To lie to Dave was like stabbing himself in the back, and the irony was he was taking some of his anger out on Dave. Shit, he didn’t even want to look Dave in the eyes right now. He heard one last thing though from his dad before the door closed.
“Oh John, I did get your three day weekend for you kid. You just have to sign off on it before you leave today,” Dave said as he smiled down lovingly at his son.
All John could do was nod. Dave wasn’t directly over him, but he had been around so long that he had several friends in high places as they say. Thank goodness, he had saved John’s ass from getting suspended the entire week. One day wasn’t too bad, as long as he could keep it quiet from Caroline, heh. Besides, maybe he could track his informant, Devin, down Friday for a meet. He was beginning to formulate a hell of a lot more questions, and his patience was wearing thin.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the time Thursday came around there were a few things becoming more apparent to John. His cases seemed to be more concretely mimicking what he knew about District 4’s, he was getting even more pissed about being taken away from the District 4 cases now since there might have been some final pieces of that puzzle closed off from him, and even the District 4 detectives seemed to be snubbing his requests for assistance. He was almost beginning to wonder if someone out there didn’t like him. Ironically, that thought was followed by a familiar voice.
“Goldman,” John said after picking up his office phone.
“I need you in my office now Lieutenant. It’s very impor…”
John just hung up the phone. Ryst had a habit of trying to push his weight around over the phone, annoying as hell. He figured he’d make Ryst sweat it out a few minutes, after all how important could it be? John didn’t care, just wanting to piss Ryst off. He wondered how many bites of his sandwich he could get before…..ring ring ring. Shit, not a one. Oh well, no need to spoil the fun. He left the phone ringing as he grabbed his jacket and slowly walked down the hallways to see what was important enough to interrupt his lunch.
Upon arriving into the hallway of Ryst’s office, he could see the back of the head of three mystery men and Ryst hanging up the phone as he glanced up to see John almost at his office door. As John entered he was becoming just a bit nervous about the unknown guests he would surely have to entertain.
“Lieutenant Goldman, how nice of you to join us. I’ll have to have someone look into getting you a replacement phone; yours seems to keep acting up,” Ryst commented, a bit rudely. John simply gave him a halfway smile and a nod while combing the room. Damn, looked like feds, dressed like feds, they even smelled like feds. FDC was present and accounted for. As his eyes scanned the room, it seemed a little odd that John had only dealt with one of them in the past though; guess he’d scared off some of those other regulars.
“There seems to be a lot of that going around, communication problems I mean,” One of the agents stepped toward John and commented. “Why don’t you have a seat Lieutenant Goldman? We, we have some things to discuss,” he continued. Now John had never met nor seen this particular agent, but he seemed to be the agent in charge of this gathering. The man appeared to be starting out with the subtle intimidation tactic. He kind of fit the part, the guy had a rough look to him with curled, medium length, dark hair, sharp brown eyes, and a full beard. John figured he was probably in his forties. Maybe the honored guests had just arrived, He didn’t know for sure, but he wondered if the guy had kept his trench coat on just for effect as he watched the agent hang it on the coat rack. Of course, there was a dark suit hidden underneath. He noticed the other two agents were sporting tan and brown, someone was supposed to stand out amongst the three it seemed. Well, not liking to be pushed around, John decided that he would stand a bit longer, at least until Captain Ryst followed up with his introduction.
“John, these men are here from the FDC to talk with you about the District 4 cases,” Ryst explained matter-a-factly.
“Ah, that will be all Captain. We will let you know if we have any further questions for you. I’m sure you w
on’t mind if we use your office for a bit,” Stated the dark-suited man.
John sighed a “that’s bullshit” sigh, while shaking his head, and he knew better than to ask Ryst to stay in the office with him for backup. Ryst was going to bow down to the almighty gods above him even if they were wearing boring designer suits. Well, at least John was still at the department and not in FDC land. Maybe Craig could come to his aid in a worst case scenario, heh, since Dave was out of town for the day. James was close by too, being a detective in the same department, only a different division.
As Ryst closed the door behind him, John began to have a bad feeling in the pit of his gut, and it wasn’t just the uneaten sandwich on his office desk. John knew Hudson wouldn’t have abandoned him like that without some formal reasoning. If the agents were there, only for his case update it would have been an open meeting including Ryst. Ryst knew that, he had no backbone though, even gave up his own damn office. They’d have to pull John out of his office kicking and screaming so to speak. John found himself counting chairs, hmm, only three. Surely, no one would sit in the fourth, Ryst’s chair, heh. Probably wouldn’t be the guy in the tan suit, Agent Dodd. John had bumped heads with him before, and was now getting the condescending stare down from Dodd. Dodd looked like a military recruit, buzz cut and all. He was probably about John’s age, late 20’s, and he was at least twice John’s size, all muscle. Visually, that was a bit intimidating, especially since John himself was a tall, muscular guy. It seemed as far as rank though, Dodd was the most junior agent of the three.
“I think you’ve met Agent Dodd,” the man in the beard spoke up again. “That is Agent Grayson and my name is Agent Stroud. I’m going to have you sit now Mr. Goldman.”
Now it was typical for FDC agents to not always reveal their rank above just that they were an agent, so that did not completely surprise John. It was obvious that Agent Stroud was higher than just initial Agent status. If he wanted to call himself just an “Agent” then that was fine, but skipping over John’s rank was only meant to spit in John’s face for not following directions. Well, bullshit. John would sit, maybe, after he was properly addressed. John glanced over from Dodd to Stroud.
“Mr. Goldman likes to stand,” John spoke firmly.
“I see,” Stroud came back softly. “Perhaps the Lieutenant would like to have a seat?”
“Perhaps,” John replied. “Would the Agent not like one?”
For a few brief seconds John and Stroud seemed locked in a staring match until Stroud finally gave in, motioning for his men to sit. Then, he himself, of course, took up the vacancy of the Captain’s helm. John decided this pleased him enough to at least have a seat. John and Dodd’s chairs were placed directly in front of Ryst’s desk, while Grayson’s was behind John and Agent Dodd. Grayson appeared to be trying to disappear into the background, and John’s paranoid side was telling him to keep that in mind.
John studied the disturbing gaze in Mr. Stroud’s eyes. It made him somewhat uncomfortable, but he was determined to remain at his current level of composure. Whatever the assholes were here for, he was sure it would continue to be in the range of intimidating to threatening in nature, an annoyance he was not looking forward to. As Stroud leaned inward, John prepared himself for the bullshit he knew was sure to come.
“Lieutenant Goldman, it is my understanding that you worked on our recent District 4 serial murder cases, the ones that have now been solved, processed, and closed down by the FDC. Is that correct?” Stroud gracefully questioned.
“I worked on District 4’s serial murder cases, not yours,” John calmly replied in return.
“Right, and while you were working on these cases, did you work with a Detective Lance Brooks?”
“Yes, I believe so,” John said.
“And how well do you know Detective Brooks?”
“I just know him from working with him on cases.”
“How many cases would that be?” Stroud continued.
Having already had enough of this blind questioning, John decided that he would ask a question or two himself. “And why are we having this discussion?” John counterpunched. “I think that we should at least share a common knowledge of the purpose for this lunch hour interruption.” With this change in conversation sequencing, John noticed a slight fidgeting in the stoic composure of his good friend seated next to him, an Agent Dodd. Dodd had always had more muscles than patience and at times would get quickly annoyed at these mind games of conversation. Stroud continued however, ignoring John’s perception.
“Yes, perhaps we are trying to establish the extent of your acquaintance with Detective Brooks,” Stroud remarked.
“Why is that?” John then asked.
“Mr. Brooks has found himself in, unfortunate circumstance, having to report the improper behavior of a fellow officer.
John didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed; he however attempted to control his increasing irritability. “Is this a meeting or an interrogation?” John questioned.
“Just think of it as a mandatory interruption to your day,” Stroud stated firmly, as he rose up from his chair.
“Mandatory interruption, huh?” John mumbled, as he tried hard to hold back his growing anger and annoyance that he felt Stroud feeding off of.
“You see, Detective Brooks has had some concerns on your, inability to accept Federal regulations. He does not want that to reflect poorly on himself or on his district. He being one of the lead detectives there; I’m sure his concerns would be, well, legitimate in nature.”
Strange…He and Brooks weren’t friends or anything, but they hadn’t really bumped heads before either. As John remembered it, Brooks was irritated about the takeover of those cases as well, just not as vocal about it. John didn’t know him as well as some of District 4’s other guys, but Brooks didn’t seem like the type to want to start shit with his fellow officers, hmm.
“We have discussed your cooperation and communication difficulties with your Captain, seems you ah, consider yourself above his orders as well. This, noncompliance seems to be a pattern does it not? I do think that Agent Dodd can personally testify to that truth.” With that comment, Stroud’s eyes didn’t blink away from their wicked stare on John’s position. The air seemed to thicken just a bit, and Dodd’s sinister presence made itself, once again eerily threatening. “You do realize I hope that there are many different, methods for dealing with those types of behaviors, especially continuing patterns? Tell me Lieutenant, does your aggressive desire to tie your murder cases to the District 4 cases stem from an aspiration to strike out at our authority? Did we leave a vile taste in your mouth?” John did not answer. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to accept being put in your place, and as regulations continue to turn in our favor, I am afraid that place will continue to diminish,” Stroud added.
By this time, John was ready to knock the shit out of this Stroud guy, but he knew that was exactly what they wanted him to try and do. They knew about John’s reputation for being a hot-tempered smart ass at times, and he knew that they were trying to exploit his weaknesses. John wasn’t sure how much more of this crap he could take though.
“You have been given all of the information on the District 4 cases you are authorized to receive as of today,” Stroud continued, as Agent Grayson came out of hiding from the back of the room, and handed John a very thin, sealed file. “As stated before, there is no direct relationship between your cases and those in District 4; this should be understood by now. If you cannot competently work your cases Lieutenant, then I am sure your Captain could recommend someone else take them on.”
What the hell? Now these FDC agents were going to give his Captain a direct order to tell John how to run his damn investigations? These people were going too far, too fast. Not only were they trying to take over local police chain of command, they seemed to have run an investigation on his investigations and were now telling him what the results should be. Now John considered himself an intellig
ent guy, and it seemed to him that they were trying to use the excuse of his supposed attitude problem along with the intimidating threat of mysterious punishments as a means to steer him away from their secretive, corrupt handling of the District 4 cases. This was bullshit; he wasn’t going to be forced into outright falsifying an investigation, but he didn’t want the cases taken away from him before he could dig more up. All of this was really starting to overwhelm him. He figured that he needed to try and get out of that office while he still had his wits about him. There would be time later to consider his options more coherently. John put on a brave face, and attempted a proper exit strategy.
“Well, I really do appreciate all of your assistance,” John responded sarcastically. “I just don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Big Brother around to wipe my ass,” With that John stood up, only to find himself mirrored a little too close for comfort by an Agent Dodd. Stroud reflected Dodd’s anger at John’s self-dismissal.
“You know John, it’s not healthy to pry into our affairs. It’s a violent world out there; especially when you’re on the losing side, and this is not a game that you can win,” Stroud spoke firmly. And with that somewhat familiar message spoken, Stroud followed by his men, quietly exited the room.
That went well. He had definitely had a few questions answered during today’s little office chat, however far more were now raised in his mind. His thoughts were beginning to blur more now than ever. One thing seemed clear however, the team of so-called “bandwagon bitches” was growing, and its frontline had just stared John down and taunted at his vulnerabilities.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was turning dark in John’s mind on the drive home, and his vision mimicked the dim streetlight flowing strenuously into the night’s air. He knew he was in trouble and seemed to be falling quickly into the proverbial shit hole of no return. He’d screwed around with these federal bitches before, but this time they seemed to be closing in on him from more angles and according to Devin, with higher stakes. Evidently, John’s pursuit of truth and justice was getting in the way of some form of FDC cover-up. The questions were once again, what was the motive, who all was involved, and what the hell did these paranoid assholes do? It just makes one wonder that much more why the FDC took over the District 4 cases, and what was the hidden agenda of later claiming to have brought in a lone serial killer responsible for the cases. None of the District 4 detectives, or John had been allowed to fully analyze the third murder case, and more importantly, none of them was allowed access to the alleged killer. He had gone supposedly straight into FDC custody, which is a separate realm from regular law enforcement. The powerful Federal Discovery Command now has its own law enforcement system for federal crimes. Since the federal government had become a stronger ironclad presence in the country, they had conformed to their own military-style, sometimes secretive, justice system. As more laws were passed, this strong centralized structure gained more and more power. John hated this growing political structure and the way it was sucking away individual rights. Maybe he had a leg up on others due to his profession, but he felt his own power and professional rights being slowly eaten away as well. To his credit at least, he felt he always tried to use his professional position to do the right thing or what seemed right. He wasn’t into the “step on the little man because I have a badge movement.” While keeping this in mind, his thoughts came back to the people stepping on him; it was starting to feel more like a stomp. Shit, all this contemplation is what was now slowly bringing on the darkness that was sinking him into a depressive state, overwhelming all of his thought processes. He knew he couldn’t go home to Caroline like this. Turning now reflexively onto the expressway in the opposite direction of his wife’s loving arms, John knew he had to talk to someone, and he knew exactly who that someone had to be.
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