by Jim Riley
“Yeah, I can understand not going up to the door. Could be bad if it turned to be the target location.”
“Yep. Anything else? I gotta go.”
“No, I guess not. Thanks for filling me in. I just hate coincidences.”
“Yeah. Look, for right now, just handle it like you would have anyway. We don’t know if it means anything yet that it’s your victim’s house. We’ve got teams out all over the western U.S. scouting and hitting suspected targets right now. Honestly, this one is still really off the charts as far as low-probability goes. We’re just trying to cover all our bases. I’ll be digging into it, though.”
I was sure he would. I was also sure there was no way this was going to be coincidence. Boy, I’m a shit magnet.
My team had been mustered and waiting for me for several minutes. I usually didn’t tolerate anyone being late for anything, much less a briefing. I tried to set the tone and had never been late for any training, briefing, or event as long as I’d been with the team. Tonight was different. I had something I needed to do.
Toby was still in his office. He didn’t look happy with me. I understood, but there wasn’t anything I could do. Well, almost nothing.
“You got a minute?”
“You’ve got my full attention.”
“Let’s go outside.” We walked outside of the office building and leaned against the wrought iron railing.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” I said, looking up at the millions of stars in the clear, night sky.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Boy, you know what I like doing on nights like this?”
“No, what, Dell?” I think he’d already figured out I was trying to tell him something but had no idea what it was.
“Driving.”
“Driving? Driving where?”
“Oh, I don’t know. West. Maybe as far a Grand Junction. You know, just packing the wife and kids in the car and driving. No one on the road, you can just cruise. Nothing like it.” Toby knew I did kind of like driving, but he also knew I hated the drive to Grand Junction. I gave him a minute to put it all together, and hoped he picked up on the hint.
“Maybe I’ll do that. Hell, it would be a good night for it.”
“Yeah, but obviously you can’t. I mean, you’re the SWAT Commander and you’re needed here for our very important, top-secret, JTTF call-out. But who knows, maybe Peg would like a drive?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll call her and suggest it.”
I turned to walk into the office. I didn’t turn around but told Toby, “Nobody but Peg, Toby. And make the call from your cell phone right now. Be quick and be discreet.” I walked back into the office wishing like hell I could call Tish. That was not to be, though, and I knew it.
“Gentlemen.” I didn’t yell it, but they all seemed to jump. Even Brett. “First matter of business is that I need all cell phones and electronic devices on this table.”
They looked at me like I was crazy but began walking up to the table and depositing their cell phones. About that time, Toby and Stalone walked in. My boss looked pissed. Wait until he found out he was not going to be able to leave. That was really going to torque him. I looked over at him. “Hello, Chief.”
He didn’t respond to the greeting. “Why didn’t you call me? I may not be the Commander, but I’m still in the loop when this team gets activated, and you still work for me.” I was right, he was pissed.
“Not tonight. I work for the U.S. Government tonight. I need both of you to put any cell phones or electronic devices on this table, please.” Unlike my team, they balked. Even Toby wasn’t sure about my request, so I repeated it. Toby dropped his on the table, but Stalone looked at me like I’d gone over the edge.
“What are you talking about?”
“If you will put your cell phone and Blackberry on the table, I’ll fill you in, Chief.” I tried to make it sound like a request and even one that I didn’t enjoy making. He must have taken it as that because he complied, albeit judging by the way he threw it on the table he still didn’t like the idea of taking orders from me.
“There. Now what’s going on?”
“Sheriff, can you shut that door please?” He did, and I sat on the edge of the table. Everyone had either already gotten a seat or was finding one. Stalone found himself without one and booted one of the guys out to sit down. That got him the finger when he wasn’t looking. When everyone was settled, I began the briefing.
“We have received a request from the FBI through the JTTF to assist them. There is currently a verified terrorist alert in effect of an imminent attack on U.S. soil, but on an unknown location. We have been asked to observe a location here in the county that may, I repeat may, be involved in some way. There are other teams activated all over the western United States responding to the same request we have received.”
“The house in question we are tasked to recon is located at 1367 Rainbow Lane. It is unknown if there is any bona fide link of this location to the pending attack, but with all of their resources in other places, the FBI has requested we do surveillance on it. If there is someone there or any suspicious activity, we report back to them for further instructions. It depends on what we find as to how it’s handled. It may be a family from Nebraska, in which case we’ll just watch it until we’re told to stand down.”
“And if it’s more?” It was Danny Baker.
“We’ll deal with that, then. As of right now, everyone in this room is being warned that if you leak any of the information you have just been told, you will be prosecuted federally. You should also know that the potential penalty is an extremely long sentence if things went bad enough.” That got a few gasps. “Not that I would suspect any of you doing that, but I had to make you aware of it anyway.”
“What kind of terrorist attack?” I wasn’t sure who asked the question, but I knew that the whole group was no doubt thinking it.
“I’m not at liberty to say.” I could have lied to them and said I didn’t know, but I couldn’t do that to these men. They all took that in stride, except Stalone.
“What the hell do you mean, you can’t say? Tell me right now.” I could actually sense a little fear in his voice.
“Once again, I am not at liberty to say.”
“Fuck you, Moffat. I’ll find out myself. I’m pretty connected, you know.” He mumbled as he moved for the door.
“Secure that door.” I was looking at Dale Bentwood. He was the closest, didn’t work for Stalone, and was six-foot-two, two-hundred-forty pounds. He also bench pressed four-hundred pounds and didn’t like Stalone. He responded quickly and blocked the doorway, the entire doorway, with his big frame. Stalone turned around and looked at me like he’d caught me diddling his wife in the guest room.
“Sorry, Chief. This isn’t about you or me. I have my orders. As of now, no one leaves this building with the exception of the team to deploy, and no one makes any phone calls. Toby?”
He nodded. “Okay. The building will be locked down and no calls. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do, too.”
Stalone was stunned. I don’t think anyone had ever talked to him or treated him like he was being handled now. If I weren’t so tied up with the mission, I would have taken a moment to enjoy it. I’d probably have time later to think about it while I drew my unemployment check. If I lived, anyway.
I put Toby in charge of securing the room with our gear, which included all the cell phones but mine. But specifically, Stalone’s. Toby had the capability to shut down all the phones in the office building. He did, with the exception of dispatch; there was other crime going on the county, after all.
I had some more to say to the men but wanted to get out of the building as quickly as possible. It kept me from having to deal with Stalone anymore, and I felt a little more in control in the small confines of the SWAT van.
“What’s this about,” Brett asked me once we were underway and crammed into the back of the panel van.
�
��I can’t tell you anything more about that than I have so far, Brett.”
“Are our families in danger?” I knew all but two of the guys on the team had wives and most had kids. I was wondering when that question was going to get asked.
“All I can tell you is that my wife is at our home right now, sleeping. Take whatever solace you can from that.”
“Bullshit. You owe us more than that.” The tension was starting to get a little higher.
“I know I do. And I wish I could tell you everything. Look guys, you’ll have to trust me here. If you want you can hate me later, but right now we have a job to do. And it may be the most important call-out we ever have. You need to put your energy into doing the job, not worrying about things you can’t control. Okay?”
A few said okay, but some didn’t even grunt.
The van continued on in the night, and I could hear a few of the guys mumbling amongst themselves. I didn’t know exactly what else to tell them. Suddenly, Brett spoke up.
“Listen. Dell’s the team leader. You may not like not knowing a few things, but that’s tough. It’s not our job to know everything. It’s our job to take care of business when we’re given a mission. If you don’t like it, get out of the fucking van and go bag groceries at Safeway or something.” There was very loud silence.
“Oorah.” It was Danny Baker finally breaking the silence.
“Hooah. Not Oorah. SEALS say Oorah. Sarge would have bitch-slapped you for that,” I told him. Several laughed, and just like that the tension was gone.
I got back down to business and finished going over some of the details of the location, showing them the layout of the house I’d drawn out hastily before we left the Sheriff’s Department. I designated the front of the house, which faced the road, as “Side One.” We all studied the layout, as well as window and door openings. I still had no idea if we’d end up making an entry, but this had to be gone over in case we did.
When tactical teams are briefing about a target structure—whether it’s a house, apartment building, warehouse, or whatever—there is a need for absolute correct information transfer. It could be tragic for someone to be reporting a bad guy in one part of the house and someone mistake the directions and think it was in the other end. The solution is to name the sides. Instead of using compass directions, which may be confusing, the sides are simply designated with numbers or colors. Some teams use white for front, green for the next side clockwise, black for the back and red for the last side. On the Logan County SWAT team, we used numbers. “One” was the front which faced the road, “Two” was the next side moving clockwise, etc. Floors were designated likewise, with “One” being the bottom. Lastly openings were designated starting at the furthermost right point and moving left. The first opening, whether a door or window, on the bottom floor of the front of the house would be the 1/1/1. That same situation on the back of the house would be the 3/1/1. In our case the front entry door was going to end up being 1/2/4, meaning it was on the front side, second floor since this was a split-level house, and fourth opening. The back-entry door was going to be the 3/1/4. It sounds complicated, but operators get used to it like anyone else gets used to the common terminologies used in their specific jobs
The drive to High Rock Estates took about fifteen minutes, but it felt a lot shorter. I decided that we’d drop Danny off on the opposite side of a small mountain from the target. It was nice having been there before, and I knew exactly how the land laid out. Danny was going to be able to have a nice hide on the hill above the Gittleson place, looking straight down onto the driveway. Slightly less than a thirty-degree slope, dark woods with not a lot of undergrowth but enough to find concealment. In his Ghillie suit, he’d be just fine. We stopped the van and he bailed out. After he grabbed his gear and Ghillie suit, he shut the door. I walked away from the van a short way with him so I could speak in private. I talked for about three or four minutes. He never said a word or showed any response, but just nodded his head, then walked away.
I was actually looking forward to the hump in. It would give me a little time to think. I figured we were going to have to come in to the target from below to miss any other houses on the mountain. The way the development was laid out, no one house could see any other one, even though sometimes they were as close as a few hundred yards apart depending on the size of the parcel or lot the owner had purchased. Some were one or two acres, and some were ten or twenty. The Gittleson place was on a twenty-acre plot and was adjacent to twenty-acre plots as well. On the east side it didn’t matter because there wasn’t even a house on it. The way the roads on the mountain went, we would have had to have driven right by the target to come in from above unless, of course, we took the same route my sniper had. I didn’t want to do that since it could compromise Danny’s position and it was a much longer hike. Danny wasn’t going to have any problems doing it, but I didn’t want the whole team making it.
We ended up parking the van on County Road 750, which was down the mountain from 749. Both roads were curvy, but according to the map, we were about one-half mile downhill from our target from where we were parked. That may not be far on flat concrete, but climbing a mountain at night with NVGs, it’s a little harder.
We had dressed out, including our LBVs, back at the Sheriff’s Office, and everyone was good to go when we parked the van. We did one last buddy check, though, before we headed out. That was where you jump up and down a little and see if anything falls off, falls out, or jingles, and your buddy checks the parts you can’t see. I’m sure it would have looked pretty stupid to someone watching us. A bunch of guys in camo with tactical shit hanging off them, jumping up and down. Oh, well. That done, we did a comms check and made sure everyone was on the right channel. Lastly, I made everyone check their watches to make sure there were no alarms set. On Dallas SWAT, I had seen that very thing almost get an entire team killed when one guy’s watch alarm went off unexpectedly while we were stacked outside the door of a barricaded subject. Not good.
Everyone chambered a round and safety’d their weapons, gave the thumbs-up, and we headed out. I took the lead. I had my cell phone on me, and it was set to vibrate. After the deal in St. Louis, I had taken the time to learn how to do that. I still hadn’t heard anything from Coop, which meant he didn’t know anything yet.
I stopped a few hundred yards up the mountain. I wanted to let everyone get their breath and do another buddy check, now that we had been moving a little way. I didn’t want anyone making unnecessary noise by panting, either. I figured an extra ten minutes getting there quietly was time well spent. Right after we started moving again, Danny called me on the radio. We were using our standard boom microphones attached to our packset radios. The boom microphone could pick up a whisper and the earpiece allowed me to hear Danny clearly. We had a scrambled channel, so even if someone in scanner-land was locked on to our frequency, they wouldn’t have been able to understand what was being said.
“Go ahead, Sierra One.”
“I’m in my hide. Eighty-two yards at ten o’clock from the 1. I’ve got a clear, unobstructed view of the 1 and part of the 4. Nothing moving. There is a blue Ford club cab dually truck with a topper in the drive and a medium-sized U-Haul truck. The garage is closed so I don’t know about any other vehicles. No lights on.”
“Got a plate on the vehicles?”
“Negative. Both are covered with mud.”
“On purpose or just dirty?” Covering a license plate with mud was an old trick, but it works nonetheless.
“Can’t really tell one way or another.”
“Roger that. Leader out.” I stopped the team and pulled out my cell phone to call Coop. I wanted him to know that the house was definitely occupied. I didn’t know if Mrs. Gittleson had sold it yet or not. That would explain the moving truck if she had. I called Coop on his cell. I was tired of talking to the other guy and having to ask for him.
“Yeah”
“It’s me.”
“Are you on t
arget?”
“Just short of the house with my team. My sniper said the house is occupied, or at least there are two vehicles there. A pick-up and a U-Haul.”
“A U-Haul?”
That concerned him. I could hear it in his voice. I hadn’t thought about it until he had reacted. They may be hauling the bomb in there. “Tell me more about the U-Haul.”
“We can’t get any plate information because the plate’s covered with mud.”
“On purpose?” He’d had the same thought I did.
“Can’t tell. Maybe, maybe not.”
“What else on the U-Haul?”
“Stand by. Sierra, what else can you tell me about the U-Haul.”
There was about ten seconds of silence. I figured he’d heard me but was about to retransmit when he responded.
“It’s sitting down on the springs. Must still be loaded. Tires are even bulging a little. Other than that, not much. Standard orange and white U-Haul.”
“Roger that.” I had the phone to my ear that didn’t have the earpiece in it when I’d talked to Danny, so Coop had only heard my end of the conversation. “My sniper said it’s a standard U-Haul. Nothing else extraordinary or other markings he can see. He did say it’s squatting like it’s loaded down, even to the point that the tires are pretty bulged.” I could hear Coop talking to someone else in the room. At least, I assumed it was someone else; it didn’t seem directed at me and I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Finally, I asked him if he’d heard me.
“Yeah, I heard you. I’m trying to get a N.E.S.T. plane over there to do a flyover and check it out. Keep going and get some eyes on. Then call me back.”
“Roger that. Out.” I folded the phone out and put it back into my pocket. “Let’s move,” I whispered. I tried to remember what N.E.S.T. stood for. I knew it was the agency that looked for radioactive materials but couldn’t remember what the acronym stood for. I put the thought away and scolded myself for letting my mind wander. Idiot.