Rampage

by Roy A. Teel, Jr.

  Swenson released a statement with the manifesto that said, “This is but the tip of the iceberg to a much larger threat to home and national security.” His hope was to educate and dissuade others from attempting the same type of plot. Sheriff Jim O’Brian praised the efforts of the Iron Eagle for saving hundreds if not thousands of lives. The media ate it up, and the Eagle was in many ways becoming a folk hero in the eyes of the people of Los Angeles. As one reporter put it, “The city and county of Los Angeles have their own protector, and that protector is the Iron Eagle.”

  There was a slight onshore flow coming in off the Pacific Ocean in Malibu, which made for cooler days. The surf was light and John and Sara had just returned from Quantico where Chris Mantel graduated with honors and accepted his first assignment with the Los Angeles field office of the FBI. Jim and Barbara had joined them, as did Karen, on the trip. They all flew back home together while Chris stayed behind to do some last minute packing to prepare for his trip back to LA.

  John was leaning on the edge of the infinity pool, looking out over the sea in the late afternoon sun. Sara, Jade, Barbara, and Karen were all sunbathing nude on the deck around the pool, and Jim was reading over an election report of the three finalists for his job. It was mid- September, and in the second to last debates for sheriff of LA County three candidates rose to the top, and he had to decide who to endorse. Two of the three candidates he knew too well; they were both under sheriffs in his department, but he didn’t care for either. The first was Tom Kazinski. Jim knew him well but didn’t care for the type of police work that he stood for. The second was Danny Hart. Jim liked Danny, but he was a soft touch, and he knew that in the thick of things Hart didn’t have what it would take to deal with the big and difficult issues.

  Then there was the surprising popularity of Deputy Samantha (Sam) Prichard. She had been in many battles in the department and on the front line through all of the events of the past several years and, in Jim’s own words to Barbara, was the perfect candidate to lead the department. She was a diehard cop. If she was cut, she would bleed sheriff’s department green. She was a hardnosed, hard drinking and smoking cop who had a nose for trouble and a keen sense of what was going on in the department. Her star was rising, and Jim felt that she would make the perfect successor. He called her up and asked her to meet him for lunch at Santiago’s, an invitation she gladly accepted.

  Jim had his corner table outside the restaurant, and he sat reading the paper when Sam announced herself. “Sheriff O’Brian, thank you for the invitation.” Jim put the paper down and stubbed out the cigarette that he had been smoking and asked her to sit. As she took a seat Jim said, “Please, Sam, call me Jim. I am in my final months as sheriff, and this is an informal meeting.” Sam sat down, and Jim offered her a beer. She took it from him and smacked the bottle on the edge of the table and sat back and said, “Thanks, Jim, so what the fuck do you want to meet with me about?” Jim laughed at her candor. Sam stood only five foot three, and she worked very hard to hide her beauty. She was off duty and had come in a pair of black slacks and a tight sweatshirt that showed off her ample breasts. She was in great physical shape, and her long black hair against her natural olive skin and brown eyes made her mysterious and attractive.

  Jim said, “You work awful damn hard not to be attractive, Deputy. You should use all of your assets if you want to win this election.” Sam took a drink of the beer and said, “I want the people to see a sheriff, Jim, not a fuckin’ Victoria Secret’s model. I want to be judged like any other candidate…any other male candidate.” Jim laughed, opening another beer and said, “Sam, that ship has sailed. Are you intentionally ignoring the press? They started digging everywhere since that debate to find the most provocative photographs they can of you, and they have published quite a few in recent days. You’re a good cop; I know that, you know that, the whole goddamn department knows that. So, give up this tough woman crap and run on your record and your plans for the department. Let your fuckin’ hair down, disarm these two other fuckers and the media, and you will win this election.” Sam sat drinking her beer and asked if she could smoke.

  Jim nodded, and she pulled out a cigarette and asked, “Why the sudden interest in me, Jim?” “You finally rose to the top in this race, and I believe that you will make a great Sheriff for Los Angeles County. I know your competition well. They are not sheriff material. They are good at their jobs, but they are not made for what it means to oversee an entire county and city as well as be the ruling power in Los Angeles police work.” Sam took a deep drag off her cigarette and asked, “And you think that I am?” “It makes no fuckin’ difference if I think you are. Do you think you are? If you’re in this race for some women’s rights bullshit, then you’re in it for all the wrong reasons. Women’s rights are protected, and the people of Los Angeles and LA County need to feel protected. What the fuck is your motivation in becoming sheriff?”

  “To protect the people of Los Angeles, to protect the rights of all, and to capture the Iron Eagle and end his reign of vigilante justice on this city.” Jim was taking a drink of his beer when she was speaking, and he snorted beer out his nose in laughter at the last line of her sentence. He got his composure and said, “Really? Fuckin’ really? You want to focus your energy on a ghost who helps us and the people? The Eagle is more popular in LA than the fuckin’ president, and you want to focus on bringing him down?” Sam took a drink of her beer and said, “I thought that’s what you’ve been trying to do for pushing two decades. You have had a sudden change of heart?” Jim laughed and said, “Look, Sam, if you’re going to run on a platform of catching the Eagle, then you might as well pack it in, that is political suicide. The Iron Eagle is as much a part of law enforcement as we are, so if you’re going to tell the people of LA you want to lock him up, you might as well get back in your cruiser and work the streets.”

  Sam took a hit off her cigarette and reached back and took her hair out of the ponytail it was in and let it fall down around her shoulders. She shook her head hard, and her hair settled on her shoulders and down her back. She lifted her sweatshirt and pulled it off, revealing a tight low-cut red blouse and ample cleavage. She took a drink of her beer and asked, “Is this what you’re thinking of when you say ‘let my hair down’ and ‘allow my beauty to sell me into office?’” Jim let out a laugh and said, “Now, you’re coming into focus, Sheriff Pritchard; you’re coming into focus. How old are you?” “That’s an illegal question.” “I’m not asking it as your goddamn employer. I am asking it as your endorser and potential voter.” “I will be forty in October.” “Are you married?” “Divorced…marriage didn’t take. My husband couldn’t handle a strong woman…and a woman who was a cop.” “What skeletons do you have in your closet?” Sam sat back, finishing off the beer and asked, “Before I go down this road with you, are you going to endorse me?” Jim nodded, opening two more beers and handing one to Sam.

  “You’re goddamn right, I am, and not because you’re beautiful, but because you are smart, well-disciplined, and you will make the best sheriff of all the candidates out there.” Sam took a swig off the beer and asked, “And if I’m elected, am I going to meet the Iron Eagle?” Jim sat back in his chair, looking out at the sea in the late afternoon sun and said, “The Eagle comes with the job, so I would guess that he will reveal himself in time to you.” She stubbed out the cigarette and asked, “Do you know who the Eagle is?” “If you didn’t already know the answer to that question, you would not have asked me.” The two sat talking late into the afternoon. Jim had his candidate for sheriff, and as they talked, he learned they had a great deal in common, and he commented several times that she was the perfect person for his job.

  Dark Canyon

  The Iron Eagle Series: Book Ten

  Prologue

  South Central Los Angeles has always been the hot seat of gang violence for all races and creeds. It had only been escalating in recent years, especially in the wake of t
he LA fires. Turf wars had turned into literal war, and every ethnic group was fighting for its own share of the city’s pie.

  It was just after midnight in late September. The lowered Acura two-door sedan with blacked out windows turned the corner of South Vermont onto West 59th Drive. Wilson’s Burgers looked more like a prison than a local fast food joint with its barred windows and doors. The burger joint had been in the family for decades and had weathered more than one storm of social unrest. Barry Wilson sat in his Cadillac Escalade with two other young gangbangers waiting for their target.

  “You sure you wants to do this, bro?” Arty Molsen asked, holding a fully automatic Uzi in his lap while Anthony Washington sat in the back seat of the car with an AK-47. Barry was holding his own Uzi and said, “It’s the only way, bro…dis shit has to stop, and it stops here, man. They’re on our turf…what the fuck is up wid dat shit? Mother fuckers…trying to take our shit, man…we has to fight back.”

  The car turned off its lights as it turned the corner and slowly crept down the street. The street lights had been shot out years ago, and the city gave up on replacing them about the same time. It was pitch black but for a security light over Wilson’s Burgers’ parking lot. The car kept creeping along in silence past Wilson’s and the Escalade, on down the street into the darkness. Bae Hun and Chun Lee were driving extra slow. They knew who their targets were, and they wanted to get the drop on them. Bae asked Chun, “You know where these three are at?” Chun looked at the GPS on the dashboard and said, “Dey here. Dis area. Dat what Han tell me.” Bae had a sawed off shotgun in his lap, and Chun had an Uzi. They drove the dark dead end street with no sign of life outside of some bangers hanging out in front of a small house near the end of the street.

  Bae pulled into a driveway to turn around and that brought several young men off the stoop and into the street. Several of them had like-colored bandanas tied to their jeans, which rode low on their hips. They all had hand guns tucked into their waistbands, and they stood making gang hand gestures and pointing at the car as Bae moved slowly to pass them. One of the men from the stoop pulled a handgun from his belt and pointed it at the windshield of Bae’s car, but he just smiled with the windows up and said, “Try homey…shoot at me car you get surprise!” Chun started laughing and said, “Why not run them down?”

  Bae kept driving slowly forward, pushing the guys with the front of his car. “No want to do dat…then we hit and run, bring more war to our hood.” The men parted but didn’t fire as the windows were blacked out, and they couldn’t see inside. Bae got back to the corner and parked near the intersection, and they plugged in the address information again.

  Barry saw the Acura this time, and he said, “Dat might be da mother fuckers.” The three men stepped out of the vehicle and started to walk across the parking lot toward the car.

  The three sharp pops on the roof of the apartment building where Katrina Montrose lived woke her from a sound sleep. She listened for more noise, but it was quiet. She had her phone in her hand ready to call 911. The shooter stood in darkness, looking down at the Escalade and the Acura. He knew the cars well, and he knew that both were armed with bullet-proof glass…he was prepared for that. The shooter had lured Bae and Chun out of hiding with an anonymous tip that their drug lines were about to be cut off, and that their gang would be helpless against the broods gang that controlled the south side. Bae and Chun were the second in command to one of the most violent Korean gangs in LA. The Hun-Sun-Ha gang was known for its sheer brutality. They controlled the streets of Koreatown with an iron fist, and they killed with impunity when needed to prove their superiority. The shooter knew that the two in the Acura were no strangers to this part of the city. They killed here often but not tonight. Tonight, these two and one of the second most violent gangs in LA, Brotherhood United, headed up by Barry Wilson and company, were to be his victims. The shooter set his rocket propelled grenade launcher through the studs of the building across the street and had several rocket heads as well as hand ordnance to wipe out everyone below.

  Bae and Chun sat looking at their GPS when they heard banging on the outside of the car. They could see three men with bandanas over their faces banging on the trunk and roof, calling them out. The two men sat in silence as the men beat on the car, and Bae said, “Will need new paint job after this.” Chun laughed as gunfire erupted at the car. Barry and Arty started firing at the car from a few feet away, but the bullets were bouncing off the glass and the body without making a dent. “Shit man…dey got fuckin’ armor, man!” Arty said before the first rocket struck near the car, exploding and sending all three men flying in pieces through the air. Bae and Chun were dead on impact, and the open driver side of the Acura where the grenade hit looked in on two charred bodies.

  The shooter turned his head and then saw a group of about two dozen other Brotherhood gang members running down the street, firing their weapons indiscriminately. Several bullets went through walls, doors, and windows of residences, and there were cries from inside the homes from injured people.

  He threw several grenades that blew nearly all of the men to pieces. He picked off three others with a high-powered sniper rifle, and the street went quiet but for the moaning and screaming of the injured. With sounds of police sirens in the distance, he started packing up his equipment and said, “Well, that worked out really, really well. Chalk up another great round of kills.” And in silence, he disappeared without being seen or anyone even knowing what had happened.

  Jim O’Brian pulled up on the scene within a half hour of the attacks. He saw Jade Morgan off in the distance, throwing out a yellow tarp. He called out to her and asked, “How many fuckin’ people we got here, Jade? It looks like a goddamn war zone.” Jade yelled back to Jim and said, “Well, if you take into account just blown up body parts, shit, Jim, maybe a hundred.” Jim’s face sank as he walked up to her. “Jesus, Jim, you look like you saw a ghost.” “A hundred people, really?” Jade laughed again and said, “No…ten, maybe twenty total. But the killer blew them to pieces with ordnance, so this crime scene is going to require a bucket and a sponge.” Jim let out a half-hearted laugh and asked who else she called. “All the usual suspects, Jim, with a few new ones.”

  He was about to ask who when he heard Samantha Pritchard call out to him from across the street, “So, what do we have here, Sheriff?” “A fucked up mess is what we have, Sam. One giant fucked up mess.” John pulled up in his Silverado, and he and Chris appeared in front of the headlights. John asked, “Another attack?” Jim and Jade nodded as Sam stood off to the side, looking at John and Chris, not knowing what to say. Jim called out to John and said, “Are you and Agent Mantel going to stand there with your cocks in your hands, or are you going to get your asses in here and help us figure out the scene?”

  John and Chris both walked under the crime scene tape as did Sam, and John said, “What’s to analyze, Jim? It’s the same M.O. as the last two killings. Our killer is using military weapons to kill gangbangers…hell, we should be giving him a gold star for the street cleanup he’s doing. Gang violence is down thirty percent in the past two weeks of this guy’s reign.” Sam looked at John and said, “You’re not suggesting, Agent Swenson, that we roll up our investigation and go on about our business and let this guy keep killing?” John was putting on a pair of latex gloves that Jade had thrown at him and Chris as he reached out his huge hand and said, “John Swenson. I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. Jim, here, tells me you’re a hell of a cop, and that you just got his endorsement for Sheriff of Los Angeles and LA County. Congratulations. What are you doing out on a crime scene at one-thirty in the morning? Shouldn’t you be at home in bed getting your beauty rest for campaigning or something?” Chris hit John in the shoulder and said, “Hey, she’s a cop, not a politician.” John looked over at Chris and said, “Well, I see you two need no introductions.”

  Sam and Chris looked at each other, and Jim asked, “If you�
�re done playing grab ass, we need to work this scene and look for the note. We know it’s not on the ground.” John looked around at the buildings and spotted the glint of steel in the ambient light from the security light from Wilson’s Burgers. “I got the shooter’s position. Chris, follow me. Let’s retrieve the note and the rest of the evidence.” Sam yelled out after the two men as they headed for the two-story building, “Don’t go tromping through our fuckin’ crime scene. Take photographs, use your tablets, but don’t manhandle things like you did the last time.”

  Jim let out a laugh and yelled to John, “Who does she fuckin’ remind you of, dickhead?” John and Chris were able to enter the building and get to the roof. They found the grenade launcher stand as well as two used rocket covers and a sealed note in clear plastic. John called down to Jim and said, “Same shooter, same M.O. We have a list of who he killed and what they did to deserve it.” John and Chris processed the rooftop scene and then walked back down to greet them.

  Jade looked on and said, “The same dude, huh?” John nodded, and Jim said, “Great. We have another nut job on the loose…another vigilante who wants to kill gang members.” Sam looked at John with the note in his gloved hand and said, “I don’t think so…yeah…this guy wants these gangbanger thugs dead, but I’m not buying that this is some random guy who wants to clean up the streets.” John smiled and handed the note to Jim who read it over quickly and then handed it back to him. Jade handed John an empty evidence bag and said, “For God’s sake, on the off chance that we catch the fucker doing this, have a chain of custody, so the damn evidence does not get thrown out at trial.”

  Sam smarted off and said, “Trial? What trial? If this isn’t the Iron Eagle doing the killing, I’m sure he’s looking for the fucker, and if he gets him, we will see his confession in HD video as he’s being killed. Ain’t that right, Jim?” Jim just laughed and said, “Let’s wrap this up, folks. I want to get some sleep before the sun rises on another day in the hell that is my career.” Jim looked at Sam and said, “I checked out your numbers, and you’re way ahead in the polls. With any luck, in a few short months you get to take over this shit while I retire to a beach somewhere.” Jim looked at John and asked, “I am going to live long enough to die naked and drunk with Barbara on some beach somewhere, right?” John shrugged his shoulders as everyone around laughed.