HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  “I don’t know, maybe six shots of whiskey and ten or twelve beers,” Jackson responded.

  “Wow, quite a night,” Kurt chuckled.

  Jackson nodded his head.

  “Were you intoxicated?” Kurt asked.

  The prosecutor stood from his seat and tossed his hands in the air. “I object your honor. The witness is not a specialist on intoxication, nor was he able at the time to perform a blood alcohol level test or a breathalyzer test. To testify as to his toxicity level would be nothing more than a sheer guess at best.”

  “Rephrase the question or change your line of questioning,” the judge warned.

  Kurt nodded his head.

  “How many times would you say the undercover ATF agent, who you believed to be a brother in your MC, asked you if you’d kill a member of the Shovelheads?” Kurt asked.

  “Six or eight,” Jackson responded.

  “No less than six?” Kurt asked.

  Jackson shook his head.

  “You know, I’ve had several years to think about this. It’s really bothered me. I can count six times in my head for sure. For absolute sure. And I know there were others, but the more I drank, the drunker I became. So for me to testify under oath to an exact number would be a lie. He asked no less than six times,” Jackson said.

  “Did you know agent Blackburn was an ATF agent at this time?” Kurt asked.

  “No Sir.”

  “Did you view the members of your club as brothers?” Kurt asked.

  Jackson nodded his head. “Yes Sir. I sure did.”

  “Family?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes Sir, I did. They were my family,” Jackson responded.

  “Mr. Shephard, where is your mother today?” Kurt asked.

  Jackson shook his head. “She’s dead, Sir. She passed away when I was a very young boy.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. And your father?” Kurt asked.

  “The same, Sir. He passed at the same time. I grew up in orphanages and eventually in a foster home with my only sibling, my sister,” Jackson responded.

  “I’m sorry for your losses.” Kurt paused and appeared to wipe his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

  “Would it suffice to say the club and your MC brothers were the only family you had?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes Sir. Them and my sister,” Jackson nodded.

  “And you perceived agent Blackburn as a brother?” Kurt asked.

  Jackson shifted his gaze toward the prosecution’s table, where the agent was seated. After shaking his head from side-to-side slightly, he responded. “Yes Sir, I did.”

  “To the best of your knowledge, are the Shovelheads MC a 1%er club?” Kurt asked.

  Jackson nodded his head. “Yes Sir, they are.”

  Kurt nodded his head as he released the lectern. He stepped to the side slightly and rubbed his jaw with his thumb and forefingers.

  “And Hell’s Fury was also a 1%er club?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes Sir, we were,” Jackson responded.

  “When a 1% club who has claimed territory - for this sake I’ll call them the parent club -has another club ride into the territory without permission, wearing their colors including a lower rocker claiming the same territory, how does the parent club perceive this trespass?” Kurt asked.

  Avery slapped her hand against my bicep.

  “You see what he’s doing?” she whispered.

  I nodded my head. “Shhh.”

  “As disrespectful. As a threat,” Jackson responded.

  “A threat?” Kurt asked as if he were shocked.

  Avery slapped my arm again.

  “Yes Sir.”

  “And when a 1% club makes a threat, what might that threat include, generally speaking?” Kurt asked.

  “Violence,” Jackson shrugged.

  “Violence. I see. Let me back up a little bit, to where we were before. This club, the Hell’s Fury, these fellas were your family, is that correct?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes Sir,” Jackson nodded.

  “I see. And when agent Blackburn asked you what you’d do if they came into your territory, wearing a lower rocker claiming your state of residence as if their own, what was your fear, if any?” Kurt asked.

  Avery slapped her hand against my arm again. I glanced toward Sydney, who was seated on my right side. She sat between Toad and I staring straight ahead, waiting for her brother’s response. As Avery gripped my left arm in her hand, Sydney’s brother responded.

  “They were a rival club, always causing problems and talking…” Jackson paused and turned toward the judge.

  The judge looked down at Jackson and nodded his head.

  “Talking shit. Saying they were going to do this, and do that. If they rode in wearing their colors and claiming territory, I guess my fear was that they’d probably kill us, or at least try,” Jackson responded.

  “So, your eventual response to ATF agent Blackburn was one more of protection than of aggression, was it not?” Kurt asked.

  “Objection, your honor. He’s leading the witness,” the prosecutor hollered.

  “Granted. Rephrase your question,” the judge said.

  Avery squeezed my arm.

  “Why did you eventually respond in the manner you did to the ATF agent? Agreeing that you’d kill members of the Shovelheads if they came to town?” Kurt asked.

  Jackson grinned slightly.

  “I didn’t realize he was an agent. At the time, he was a brother, part of my family. And my fear was that the Shovelheads MC might hurt him or some of my other brothers. My thoughts at the time were that I needed to protect my family,” Jackson responded.

  “Your only family?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes Sir, my only family,” Jackson responded.

  Avery released my arm from her grip.

  “Fuck yes,” she whispered as she slapped her hand against my thigh.

  “No further questions for this witness, your honor,” Kurt said flatly.

  I turned toward the prosecutor, who slowly stood from his seat.

  “The prosecution rests, your honor,” the prosecutor stated.

  “Your honor, I have only one witness to question. In lieu of a recess, and in an effort to please the court, may I call my witness and possibly wrap this up?” Kurt asked.

  “One?” the judge asked.

  “Yes Sir,” Kurt responded.

  The judge turned toward the prosecutor. The prosecutor shrugged his shoulders.

  “I have no objections,” the prosecutor said.

  “Very well. My time, the court’s time, is precious. In an effort to expedite this trial, we will continue. Call your witness,” the judge stated.

  “Your honor, I call Special Agent Randall Blackburn,” Kurt said as he turned to face the agent.

  “Oh yeah. This is going to be good,” Avery whispered.

  Personally, I couldn’t imagine it being any better than it was. I realized I didn’t fully understand all of the intricacies of the law the way Avery did, but from what I’d seen, Kurt was butchering the prosecution. His way of obtaining the answers he wanted from the witnesses was without much fault.

  “Let’s take a ten-minute recess for the bathroom,” the judge said as he looked up at the clock.

  “2:13. I ask that everyone return to my courtroom no later than 2:13,” the judge said as he studied the clock.

  “I just want this to be over,” Sydney said as the US Marshall led the jury from the room.

  “It’ll be over pretty soon,” I responded.

  “Those fucking ATF agents,” Axton whispered.

  I turned to my left to face Axton and leaned forward, resting my hands on my thighs.

  “Rotten pricks. I’d like to line every one of them up, and do the world a favor by killing each and every one of ‘em,” he hissed.

  “Be careful,” I whispered as I raised one eyebrow and glanced along the ranks of Sinners seated in the courtroom. “There might be one amongst us.”

  “Not in my club,” he s
aid as he shook his head. “I guarantee it.”

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  OTIS

  With a shaved head, a twelve-inch-long beard, and his arms covered in tattoos, Special Agent Blackburn appeared to be a biker, not an ATF agent. Sitting on the witness stand, he looked like he was pulled from the yard in prison, fitted with some fancy dress clothes, and placed in the court room. Studying him caused me to realize how little a person really knows about who it is at his side.

  “Agent Blackburn, how many years have you been with the ATF, as an agent?” Kurt asked.

  “Eighteen,” Blackburn responded.

  In your eighteen years, have you worked in the field in an undercover capacity?” Kurt asked.

  Blackburn nodded his head. “Yes, most of my career has been undercover.”

  “Generally speaking, when you work undercover, do you wear some form of electronic listening device - a wire?” Kurt asked.

  “We try to. It isn’t something that can always be done, but if possible, yes,” Blackburn responded as he adjusted himself in the seat.

  Kurt nodded his head. “Is it done to preserve, or more accurately, to support your investigation?”

  Blackburn sat up straight in his seat and spoke directly into the microphone. “Yes. The recordings support the agent’s testimony, and provide corroboration in court of the events described in the investigation and in the daily reports.”

  “So wearing a wire sounds like it’s a procedural matter. Is that correct?” Kurt asked as he stepped to the side of the lectern.

  “Yes Sir, it is,” Blackburn responded.

  “Thank you for clearing that up, Special Agent Blackburn,” Kurt said in a somewhat sarcastic tone as he took a step toward the witness stand.

  Kurt stepped to the side of the lectern and placed his hands on his hips. “How many times did you ask the defendant if he would retaliate against the Hell’s Fury before he responded in a manner contrary to law?”

  “Two,” Blackburn responded in a matter of fact tone.

  “Two?” Kurt asked, the tone of his voice filled with annoyance.

  “Yes, two,” Blackburn said.

  Kurt slowly raised his hands in the air and turned his palms outward. “Not six or eight?”

  “No Sir. Two,” Blackburn said flatly.

  Kurt shrugged his shoulders slightly and took another step toward the witness stand. “Are you certain?”

  “Very,” Blackburn responded.

  Kurt nodded his head as if accepting Blackburn’s response as accurate.

  “I’ve read the transcripts from the original trial. Have you made reference to them?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes, yes I have,” Blackburn stated.

  “Your initial testimony was the same? Two?” Kurt asked as if he knew the answer, but simply sought confirmation.

  “Yes Sir,” Blackburn responded as he reached for the glass of water sitting in front of him.

  Kurt turned away from the witness stand, and slowly began to take the two or three steps toward the lectern, facing the jury as he spoke. “As an ATF agent, you receive training in regard to law, do you not?”

  Blackburn nodded his head. “Some, yes.”

  “Training to assure you will follow policies and procedures in accordance with law, and not contrary to it, correct?” he asked as he reached the lectern.

  “That is correct,” Blackburn responded as he lowered the glass of water to the platform in front of him.

  “Would two requests, with the second response by the defendant being contrary to law, in your professional trained opinion, legally define coercion, inducement, or enticement?” Kurt asked.

  Blackburn shook his head and chuckled. “No Sir, it sure wouldn’t. Absolutely not. Asking him twice is not coercion or inducement.”

  “Out of curiosity, if that number was six or eight, would it define coercion?” Kurt asked.

  After a short hesitation, Blackburn responded as he leaned toward the microphone, “It may.”

  “And your lengthy training with the ATF included instructions and training not to badger, coerce, induce, or entice a law abiding citizen to commit a crime, correct?” Kurt asked.

  “That is correct,” Blackburn said.

  “Under oath, the defendant stated he was asked no less than six times. You have stated you asked him twice. According to your earlier testimony, six would define coercion, inducement, and or entrapment, and you merely asked him twice. I’m wondering, are you telling the truth or is he?” Kurt asked flatly.

  “Objection!” the prosecutor howled.

  “Counsel…” the judge said flatly.

  “I’ll advise you not to answer the question,” the judge stated as he turned toward the witness.

  The judge turned toward the jury.

  “Be it known the witness is under oath and sworn to tell the truth,” the judge said.

  “How long was your investigation of the Hell’s Fury?” Kurt asked.

  “Two years and one month,” Blackburn responded.

  “And in that time, twenty-five months, how many arrests were made?” Kurt asked.

  “One,” Blackburn said.

  “One? A twenty-five-month long investigation of an Outlaw Motorcycle Gang, and it only produced one arrest?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes,” Blackburn responded as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “Did the ATF make a decision not to prosecute the other cases?” Kurt asked.

  “There were no other cases,” Blackburn said.

  “You successfully infiltrated an outlaw gang of motorcycle thugs for twenty-five months, and produced this as your only case? Seems more like they were a group of good old boys, not an OMG,” Kurt said flatly.

  “Your honor, I object. It appears the defense counsel has chosen to provide his own testimony,” the prosecutor snapped.

  “I’ll ask the jury to strike the last statement made by the prosecutor. Counsel, you have been warned,” the judge said as he raised his index finger in the air.

  Kurt leaned onto the lectern and pressed his chest onto the platform. Now staring at the ATF agent, he cleared his throat.

  Avery slapped my arm and whispered into my ear. “He’s going to make a point. He wants the jury’s attention.”

  “In discovery, I requested the voice recording of the conversation on the night of the instant offence. I was advised it did not exist in legible format. Are you aware of the lack of availability of said recording?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes Sir, I am. Unfortunately, the recording device did not work properly on that evening, and background noise made the recording worthless,” Blackburn responded.

  “I was provided recorded conversations before and after the date in question. In fact, I have a few hundred hours of recorded conversations. Almost four hundred hours if memory serves me correctly. Now, my question to you is as follows…”

  Kurt paused and turned to face the jury.

  “Agent Blackburn, how many conversations through the course of the investigation were unintelligible, to the best of your knowledge, that is?” Kurt asked as he continued to face the jury.

  “One,” Blackburn breathed.

  Kurt turned toward the witness stand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear your response. Can you speak into the microphone?”

  Blackburn leaned forward and responded into the microphone. “One.”

  Kurt nodded his head and chuckled lightly.

  “I’m curious. During your infiltration of the group of outlaw bikers, did you give them your actual name?” he asked.

  Blackburn chuckled a light laugh as if the question amused him. “No.”

  “Did you make one up?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes, I did,” Blackburn responded.

  “Did you give them an accurate history of who you were?” Kurt asked.

  “No Sir, I provided fictitious information. Information believed to be more acceptable to the type of people I was investigating,” Blackburn said.

  “So yo
u lied. You told lies to the bikers to get them to either like you or accept you, is that correct?” Kurt asked.

  “I object!” the prosecutor bellowed as he stood from his seat.

  “Your honor,” Kurt said. “The witness stated he provided inaccurate information to the group during his investigation. I’m simply…”

  “I’ll rephrase the question,” Kurt said as he gripped the edges of the lectern in his massive hands.

  “Was the information you provided the bikers regarding your background and or name the truth?” Kurt asked.

  “No,” Blackburn said.

  “Was it a lie?” Kurt asked.

  “Objection, your honor,” the prosecutor said as he stood.

  “I’ll allow it, but you shall make your point in a timely manner, counsel,” the judge said.

  “Yes,” Blackburn said as he leaned into the back of his seat.

  “Explain your thought process to me on lying to these men during the investigation. Why would you feel compelled to tell them lies?” Kurt said as he stepped to the side of the lectern and raised his hand to his chin.

  Blackburn turned to face the judge. The judge in turn nodded his head. Blackburn then turned toward Kurt, who was now studying the jury.

  “To preserve the investigation, we are taught to give either limited information, or false information. It provides protection to the bureau and to the agent,” Blackburn responded.

  “You’re taught to lie during your investigations?” Kurt asked.

  Blackburn glanced toward the judge. The judge nodded his head.

  “Yes,” Blackburn grunted.

  “So, through the course of your work, you may tell a lie, but it’s not necessarily a lie in a conventional sense, because you’re working, correct?” Kurt asked.

  “Objection, your honor, asked and answered,” the prosecutor hollered.

  “I’ll allow it,” the judge said.

  Kurt turned toward the jury and spoke as he continued to stare at the jury.

  “I’ll ask the question again. Through the course of your work, you may tell a lie, but it’s not necessarily a lie in a conventional sense, because you’re working, correct?” he asked without turning away from the jury.

  “Correct, we’re often required to lie, as you say, to preserve the investigation,” Blackburn responded.