"I'm with the National Park Police, and the items are evidence in two related murder cases. The owner of the items was murdered, and then the killers were themselves killed by a third party. By the way, I would feel better if you would let go of what ever you have under the desk."
"OK, next question, why me? And the question after that, are you sure you're not with the FPI?"
"No, I have nothing to do with the FPI, in fact, I'm doing everything I can to keep them out of this case, and out of my jurisdiction. As to why you, Bird recommended you, that's good enough for me. Why do you ask if I'm with the FPI?"
" 'Cuz, there can't be more than a handful of magic users in law enforcement outside of the FPI, and I thought that I knew all of them. So are you and Kurshta…" She did let go of what ever was under the desk, and both hands came back in view.
"NO!" we both said simultaneously. I looked at Bird and grinned, and she looked back at me with a sheepish smile. "And I'm not really much of a magic user, at least not yet."
"Yeah, right, we'll talk about that. All right, you really have my interest piqued, lets see the stuff."
I brought out the items from the envelope they were in, and Mary let out a little gasp. She looked at Bird and said, "Are you sure these are real?"
Bird shrugged and said "The gold alloy is right, the carving is hand done, not machine, the wear marks are right for something very old, and the harder alloy is starting to show on the inside of the rings. If they're not real, they're excellent forgeries, really excellent. And why would someone spend this kind of money to forge something like this, and then not immediately publicize their 'find'? Further, I don't recognize the gods in these, so whoever would have forged it would have been creating new work, pretty unlikely. Yes, I'm as sure as I can get without digging them up myself, they're real."
"Oh, Great Spirit, this could make me." Her eyes seemed to light up, and her nipples stuck out. "All right, what's the catch? There's got to be one. I'll do the job, but what's the catch?"
"The second murder case…" I muttered.
"Yeah…"
"It was a 'Murder by Magic'."
"OH SHIT. Damn I need this like I need another General Custer. I thought you said the FPI isn't involved." The light went out of her eyes, her nipples went in to hiding, and her whole body seemed to sag.
"They're not. And I intend to keep it that way. The FBI was offered the case when we thought it was a murder by chemical or bacterial agent, and they turned us down. Technically we don't have to re-inform them of the change in direction of the investigation. And as long as we have a place to go with the case, I intend to keep the Fearless Band of Idiots, and their vicious little stepsons away from my woods." At this she perked back up a bit and gave me a grin.
"I can work with that. The keeping the FBI out of the woods that is. So, 'Murder by Magic,' huh? Well, isn't that going to set the 'little green Isis people' on their ass? Kurshta, you have full recordings of this stuff?" Bird nodded, and Mary continued, "OK, I don't need to handle these any more tonight. John, I take it this stuff has to go back into some sort of official storage?"
"Yes, if I don't get it back to the locker, I'm the one that turns into a pumpkin." I gave my best sheepish grin. This gal was kind of cute. If I wasn't so damn gun shy, I might try a run at her.
"All right, why don't you take it back for the night then, though I will want to see it again in a day or two. Do you have a number where I can get hold of you ?"
I gave her my phone number, and made my excuses and goodbyes. If I hurried, I could still get this stuff back to the evidence locker before shift change. I walked out to the rig, and started back into downtown. About three blocks from the Federal building, I saw something that surprised me, I though it was a bald eagle at first, just because of the size, but when it got closer, I noticed that it didn't have the right shape or coloration. Then it got closer still, and I realized it was way too damn big. That was when I recognized it, the thing was a damn condor. I remember thinking, "now what the hell is a condor doing in Washington state, and especially in downtown Seattle?" It perched on a flagpole that stuck out from one of the buildings near the Federal building, and seemed to watch me as I went in. Or maybe it was my overactive imagination, because when I came out it was gone. I called the Alberts, and the Snedker's, and arranged to stop by. After going through both boys' rooms, I didn't know any more than I did before. Mind you, I wasn't surprised by this, but one could have hoped. So, I headed back for the office. By now it was after 18:30, so the traffic was starting to drop off. Have I mentioned 'so much for working shorter hours?' Oh well, I can have time off when I'm dead.
*****
I was twenty minutes from home when the radio squawked "4 X-ray 15, 5 X-ray 22, 4 X-ray 34, 5 X-ray 29, 5 X-ray 45, 6 X-ray 50, tac-com, go to tac three." Oh shit, this can't be good, those were the numbers of the FSRT (Federal Special Response Team) for Western Washington. Well, here we go.
*****
"Tac-com, 4 X-ray 15, received, going to Tac three." Tac three was the recorded, coded, frequency agile channel that we used for basic planning and information dissemination for the FSRT or 'first' (hey, nobody said cops could spell) I shifted radio channels, and grabbed up the mike again. "4 X-ray 15 on net, what in the Hel is going on. Damn it I'm twenty minutes from going off shift."
"Sorry John, technically it's the Coast Guard's case, or Port of Seattle, but they have called for help, and we're it." It was Capt. Roberts, Lt. Murphy's boss. About the only time I dealt with him was when they called the first out. He was the senior Federal officer in the region, other than the Investigator in charge for the western district office of the FBI, and the FBI only got involved if we begged off. The FBI has a really great team called the HRT, but they're out of Quantico, so they usually don't get involved up here in the Northwest. I had known Roberts by reputation when I was with the teams, he was a Force Recon Marine Major who had worked his way up the ranks and was a minor legend in the operator community. "Oh by the way, congrats on the promotion, that makes you second in charge of the team, John. Now start heading for the Everett Naval station."
"And responsible for buying the first round, pussy cat." That was Jim Morison.
"Hey, watch it, greenie, only I get to pick on John." That had to be Pete, which reminded me, he and I needed to talk. Some of the memories that Uncle Lars dug up make me want to have a long discussion with my old swim buddy.
Over the next two or three minutes the rest of the team checked in. We have a six-man team, a sniper and his spotter (an FBI guy is the sniper, Jim's the spotter and back up sniper) a DEA officer, a customs officer, Pete and I. Pete or I took point, the other one of us took rear guard. The customs officer, Bob White (I shit you not, his parents were sick) was the team leader, and had more time in this sort of shit than anyone I had ever heard of. The DEA guy, who was also our foreign language guy, Mike Lawson, was the baby of the crew. Twenty-eight, never been in the military, but he played college ball while on a law scholarship at Harvard. He's tough, and a damn fine shot, as well as being the 'face' for the crew. Rumor was that his older brother had died in a drug buy gone bad. The banter went on while we waited for more data from the boss, and started driving in the direction of the Everett marina. All of us lived and worked somewhere between Seattle and Bellingham. Usually the rally point was Seattle, but for some reason we were forming up in Everett, interesting.
A couple of minutes later the Captain came back on the radio and let us in on what was happening. The Coast Guard had boarded a PRC flagged freighter off Point No Point from a forty-four footer for the standard (or at least standard post 9/11) inspection. They had apparently found something they weren't supposed to find, and the inspection party had been taken hostage. The Coast Guard had dispatched a light endurance cutter to stop the vessel, and we had a stand off. The SEAL team from Bangor was put on hot standby, we were to be flown out to the cutter, and a Navy destroyer was warming up her engines. Shit what a mess. In addition, th
e PRC consulate was being contacted for 'consultations.' Of course, it didn't take long before the newsies got hold of the fact that something weird was going on out in the sound, and by the time I got to the Naval station, I could see the navigation lights from helicopters orbiting something out in the water.
When I hit the gate of the Naval station, lights flashing, they stood aside and let me straight in. I got on the radio and asked where we were forming up, the Captain replied with directions to the Helo pad and said that he and the bird were two minutes out. I was the first team member there, and saw the bird coming in. We had the use of a Lakota slick, with a full set of repelling gear, and a forward looking infrared pod. Our helicopter was identical to the Lakota military bird, except for the amount of armament on board. The Lakota and the Navy version, the Sea Witch, are twin engine, single rotor, four bladed choppers that carry eight troops with full gear, a selection of ordnance and a full sensor suite. They can fly at six hundred knots a hundred feet off the deck, and for a half hour at a time can do this in total silence, thanks to a special magic package engineered by some bright boy back east. They were designed to get special warfare teams in and out with full stealth, then support them on the ground. Technically it belonged to the PSP, but we got first call on it, (this may have been why they put the PSP District Commander in charge of the unit, come to think of it.) I started getting my gear out of the rig and the safe in the back while the rest of the crew started showing up. By the time I was suited up, everyone was there, or at least on base. Pete was the last one in, so he owed the second round, traditionally he would have to buy the first one, but I had to wet down my chevrons. When Pete out assed his rig I looked at him and did a "rock, paper, scissors" motion at him. He followed suit, and he wound up winning, so he had point. That was just as good for me, that means he has to tote that heavy ass shield and it's been a long couple of days. (Not that I haven't had longer, in the teams, but damn, I'm not pushing forty any more, I'm pulling.)
We piled into the chopper and headed out on a course for the CGC Evergreen Point. On the way the Captain continued the briefing. Our target was the MV Shanghai Princess, she had a Chinese name as well, but I can't pronounce it, much less spell it. Shanghai Princess was a forty-year old container ship, of uncertain pedigree. We have no record of who built her, she may have been bought on the black market, or been the victim of pirates. Oh yes, we still have those, especially in the area around Indonesia, and the People's Republic of China is rumored to be a major supporter. They buy the cargo, and often the ship itself, repaint it, fake a new history for it, and poof it's theirs. It's amazing what you can get away with if you're a nation, especially if your name begins with "People's," and you have nukes.
*****
It was darker than a stack of cats when we landed on the Coast Guard cutter, but they had the automated landing system, and we got to come in like gentlemen. Meanwhile, the twenty-five inch spotlight on the signal bridge was making the Princess look like noon at the equator. Having once been on the receiving end of one of those spotlights, let me assure you the fucker's BRIGHT. The Point was doing slow circles around the Princess, with all guns manned, and pointed at her. It sort of looked like a pit bull circling a cow, looking for the best place to bite. We were brought up to the wardroom, and briefed on what was going on now.
The Captain of the cutter, a Lt. Cmdr. McFarlaine briefed us. Basically they knew bupkis. There were five guys on the forty-four footer, of those one had stayed on board. He had lost radio contact with the boarding party after about an hour of search, and could not regain it. He then contacted the bridge of the Princess, and asked to speak to the boarding party over VHF. The bridge of the Princess suddenly developed language problems. Then he called for help. First the Coasties sent out a Dolphine, (that French built Helo they use for Search and Rescue) it was waved off by a Princess crewman with an AK. Then they contacted the Port of Seattle PD, and dispatched the Evergreen Point. The Port of Seattle PD has a Chinese interpreter so the language game didn't work any more. The Princess then stopped talking altogether. The Navy reports that there is Secure Com going on between the Princess and somewhere else via satellite, though they say they can't tell where, (probably true) and can't tell what is being said (probably bullshit, but we don't have a need to know, or clearance.) The Chinese consulate is supposedly negotiating, but refusing to admit that the ship is actually theirs (though they will not let us board with hostile intent).
Now all of this smoke screen by the consulate is so much bullshit. The international law is clear on this point. Unless the vessel involved is a warship, the nation whose harbor your ship pulls into has to let the Customs people on board, and the capture of military or law enforcement personnel by another country is an act of war. So they have no legal standing, but they were stalling for all they were worth. We have no plans or drawings of the interior of the vessel, and no Intel on where the hostages are being held. All in all, this was a total rat fuck.
We debated various plans for the assault (if we were given the go) for about two hours. A straight up 'Shock and Awe' would be a problem, because we don't know where the hostages are, and if we don't find them quick they would probably be killed. We finally came up with a plan, and surprisingly even got the newsies' assistance on it. By now the Fisk (a DDG) was also on station, and doing the guns trained, spotlight on the boat drill. So you have two ships orbiting the Princess shining big ass lights at her, and three news helos flying around overhead. Now normally we would chase the news choppers off, but in this case, they would be a help. Our plan was to send a small boat off the unexposed side of the Point, with us in it. We would wait until the Point had passed us, and then go in without lights to under the swell of the bows on the Princess. When the Fisk came by with her spotlight one of the news choppers would come in close and using the noise from the chopper to mask the sound, we would shoot a line gun with a grapple up to the bow of the Princess. (Yes, I hear you, why not just throw the grapple, why use a noisy gun? Well, land lubber, do you have any idea how high up the bow on a modern, IE post 1945, vessel is? Hint, taller than forty feet. You try throwing a grapple to the top of a five story building that's moving around, while you're on a platform that's moving around. Let me know how you do.) Then we would all scoot up the rope and over the gunwale. From there, it would be a straight up sneak and peak until we found our hostages.
With the plan finally made, we had nothing else to do except check our equipment and wait. The Coasties loaned us three line guns, and operators, one of which would drive the boat. We would be using a RIB (Ridged bottomed Inflatable Boat, a Zodiac with a hard bottom). The Coast Guard's RIBs were all bright orange, and had loud engines, so we sent our Helo back for a RIB that we had at base. An hour later, the Helo was back, with our boat. This was the same style I had trained on in the Teams. Flat black, with a high-powered electric motor that would do thirty knots for an hour before the batteries were in trouble. It was quiet as a cat's footstep, invisible as a cockroach at night, and faster than a scalded dog. With that onboard, and the Coasties checked out on it, there was nothing to do until we were given the 'go' order. So I did what any typical cat would do in such a circumstance, (after I called Lars to let him know that I had no idea when I would be home) I took a nap.
*****
They woke me at midnight. The radio traffic on secure voice had been fast and furious for the last half hour. We were still not given the go order, but that was understandable. Time was on our side in a hostage situation. The longer it went, the less chance that the hostages would be killed unless someone did something stupid. This was standard cop doctrine. The Branch Davidian compound was the perfect example of how NOT to do a hostage thing. BATF and the Fearless Band had really fucked up by the numbers on that one. What they woke me for was that there was movement on the Princess. We all scurried up to the signal bridge to see what was going on through the Big Eyes. Bob, Pete and I took turns through the Big Eyes, while Jim and Pauley (the FBI sniper)
used their sniper scopes. One of the crew seemed to be prepping a lifeboat. Then four guys in Coast Guard coveralls got in the lifeboat, and it was launched. Now riding a modern lifeboat launch is a real trip. They go down a slide drop about thirty feet and hit the water, half submerge and then bob back up. They're self righting, and powered, and are in fact much like a Coast Guard forty-four. So we watched the boat launch, and then the motor started and it pulled away from the Princess. This got the hostages free apparently, but it didn't end the story, because Uncle Sam takes a real dim view of people taking his people at gunpoint.
We still didn't know what was going to happen about that, but I just didn't see us letting the Princess pull back out to sea undisturbed after this. That became a moot point about two minutes later. We heard a low series of "whump" sounds, and then a giant BOOM, and the Shanghai Princess blew up like a big ass firecracker. This wasn't the sort of explosion that you normally see in the movies when a ship is sunk or bombed or…No, this was more like the entire ship was full of explosives and they all went off at once. Shit was falling out of the sky, and there was a hole in the water where the Princess used to be. We were all half blinded by the flash, and it was just luck that the news choppers didn't get hit by any pieces. Then the weirdest thing happened, the Fisk cut us off, and they picked up the life boat. You would have thought that we would have picked up the thing, after all, the guys on board were Coasties, and the Evergreen Point was better designed for pulling lifeboats out of the water, but the Fisk zoomed in like an avenging angel and came in between us and the life boat, then announced over the VHF that they would be picking up the crew for debrief. We were told that our services were no longer required, and we were cleared to depart. The Helo ride back to our vehicles was very quiet. No one knew what to do or say about this thing. Most of us had been military, and we all knew the smell of something 'black', this reeked. We didn't go out to the bar after this one, we just went home.
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