San Rafael Jacked

by Tom Ellis

  “Yes, as an example of how not to do things.”

  “And that is what we need to bring down Bradford.”

  The Director didn’t comment for a few seconds. “If he makes a case on Bradford, how do we get rid of Kroll?”

  Ransom Carter looked toward the office door and then leaned forward toward the Director.

  “We promise Kroll full retirement when Bradford is indicted or removed from the criminal class. With any luck, they will kill each other.”

  Chapter Two

  FBI Special Agent Ron Kroll sat in his cubical in the Mobile Alabama Field Office. He was going through dormant files checking to see if they were complete and up to the standards of the new Special Agent in Charge, L. Winston Glover. For the past month, the new SAC had made Kroll’s life miserable. They had a history. Mr. Glover, to all in the Field Office, was called Skinny Winnie behind his back on good days. Most of the time the sobriquet was even less flattering. Before his banishment to Mobile; Glover was head of the Office of Professional Responsibility at FBI Headquarters in Washington DC. He fell from grace several months after Ron Kroll was sent to Mobile.

  For most of his career, Kroll distinguished himself in undercover operations. His success was due to a lot of luck and using the FBI rules, policies and procedures, regulations, and bureaucracy only when necessary. In the post nine eleven worlds, Kroll played by Ron Kroll rules. When a known Muslim terrorist complete with a bomb fell into Kroll’s hands he administered a world class beating. The information gained took down a large terror cell operating in Atlanta GA.

  The case was thrown out at the Federal Magistrates level. The lack of any witnesses and Kroll’s arrest and interrogation procedures were the primary reason. When the Muslim bomber accidentally blew himself, and several colleagues up it didn’t help the case either. Skinny Winnie Glover believed Kroll caused that accident.

  The zealot Glover tried to get Kroll fired and prosecuted for crimes real and imagined. The harassment levied on Kroll by Skinny Winnie even included an income tax audit for the five previous years. Glover failed in his vendetta against Kroll.

  Glover’s vindictive investigation into Kroll’s version of undercover agent behavior was the result of losing a criminal case against another rogue FBI agent. That agent, W. Ashton Bradford, was terminated, but it was a bittersweet victory for L. Winston Glover. The FBI Director was not a member of Skinny Winnie’s small fan club and assigned him as SAC in the Mobile Field Office. The Director saw a chance for Skinny Winnie to screw up and be counseled to retire. The former either forgot or never knew; Ron Kroll was transferred to Mobile a few months before Glover.

  All Kroll wanted when he arrived in Mobile was to finish out his last couple of years before retiring without getting on anybody’s bad side. Now his nemesis was standing outside his cubicle.

  “Special Agent Kroll put on your jacket and follow me to the secure conference room. Now.” Glover ordered.

  Kroll robotically followed those orders. His mind was in high gear. The office rumor was some bigwigs from Headquarters DC were in town. And the SAC escorting an agent to the secure conference room did not bode well for said agent.

  Skinny Winnie opened the door to the conference room and motioned Kroll to enter. Glover closed the door behind them.

  Seated at the conference table were the Director and his Special Assistant Ransom Carter. Carter spoke. “Have a seat Agent Kroll.”

  Ron took a seat across from the two men.

  “Glover you are excused. Close the door behind you and turn on the secure light.” The Director said.

  The Director turned to Kroll. “How is the Mobile office treating you Special Agent Kroll?”

  “Things were great until Glover showed up.”

  “Go ahead and speak your mind, Kroll.” Ransom’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Agent Kroll you are without a doubt the most skilled undercover operative the FBI has.” The Director began. “We have a special assignment for you if you are willing to take it. The only good thing I can say about the assignment is you will no longer work for L. Winston Glover. And you will be allowed to retire immediately on completion of said assignment. Are you interested?”

  “Sir, with all due respect. I am interested. But I will not accept it blindly. An investigation important enough for you to fly down here must be a secret. You have my word it will stay a secret whether or not I take the job.”

  “Fair enough. Are you good with that Ransom?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Agent Kroll, have you ever heard of a former agent named Welch Ashton Bradford?”

  “Yes, as I recall Glover and his former colleagues terminated him but screwed up the chances of prosecuting Mister Ass Bradford.”

  “Ass Bradford is probably the best reference to W. Ashton Bradford as he refers to himself. He probably uses the initial W, because he will welch on a bet or a deal. It has come to our attention that Bradford is involved in a criminal enterprise in the southwestern United States. One most likely involving human trafficking and narcotics smuggling. Ass Bradford is a blight on the FBI’s record, and we want him doing time in a Federal Penitentiary. I believe you are the man who can penetrate Bradford’s organization and make a case we can win.

  “The administration is catching a lot of flak over security issues on the Mexican border. There is a county sheriff in Arizona that says the state has to do what the federal government won’t do. And having somebody like Bradford down there involved in anything illegal spells disaster. Bradford is smart and he likely sees this border debacle as an opportunity. It is up to us to stop him before the locals get more information to hand the press about how we ignore the border. Kroll, do you have any comment or concerns at this point?”

  Ron Kroll drew in a deep breath before answering. “Sir, I appreciate your confidence in me. Who would I report to?”

  “Ransom Carter is in charge of the operation. A Supervisory Special Agent in the DC office will oversee the op and will coordinate personnel and equipment. She will report directly to Mr. Carter. Your backup group will report to her. The local field offices Tucson and Phoenix will provide administrative support and SWAT backup. The field office SAC’s will not be totally read on this investigation. These SACs will only know that it is happing in their area of responsibility.”

  “Who is the supervisory special agent?”

  “Havelee Harris.”

  “It seems you are leaving a lot of brass out of the loop on this investigation. Why?” Kroll asked.

  “Ashton Bradford has a network of former agents, and we suspect rogue agents currently employed. We don’t want any leaks.”

  “So myself, my backup team, Havelee Harris, and you gentlemen are the only ones who know what is going on?”

  “Yes and we want to limit the size of your backup team. We have some agents in mind for you to choose from.”

  “How am I supposed to infiltrate Bradford’s organization?”

  “As Ron Kroll terminated FBI agent.”

  “So you are going to fire me and give me my job back when I put Bradford away. Gentlemen, again no disrespect intended, but I have been too close to firing to fall for that.”

  The Director smiled. “Ransom predicted you would say that. I have with me two copies of a confidential document which states that upon the successful conclusion of this investigation you be allowed to retire from the FBI at your present GS rating. The successful conclusion the arrest and indictment of Bradford; or the satisfactory termination of Bradford’s criminal enterprise with prosecution not being necessary.

  “We will call in a notary to notarize our signatures on this document. Mr. Carter will be witness to our signing this document. We will both have an original copy.

  “These documents will state you are employed as an FBI Special Agent. And that all actions regarding your termination this date is a subterfuge for the undercover assignment you are engaged in.” The Director paused.

  “Ron would you expl
ain how we are going to get Special Agent Kroll in place.”

  Ransom Carter smiled. “You are going undercover as yourself, Ron Kroll, terminated FBI agent. Adam Hall, the head of security for Gulf Enterprises has been contacted and asked to provide you employment in a Tucson Arizona Casino his company owns but does not advertise it as being part of their empire. The employment will be a sympathy job because of your service to the bureau before the latest incident.”

  “And what is the latest incident?”

  “You roughed up a Muslim who complained about terrorist profiling.”

  “Oh,” Kroll replied with raised eyebrows.

  “Before we call for the notary, are you going to accept the assignment or go back to Skinny Winnie?” Ransom Carter asked.

  “What is the code name of this investigation?”

  “Bad Apple’s”

  Ron Kroll was quite for a few moments. Apple's was plural, and cruising below the radar until retirement wasn’t going to happen either.

  “I’ll do it.”

  The documents were signed. Ransom Carter folded Kroll’s copy and handed it to him.

  “Ron, the Director and myself feel that these documents are the only way to protect you. And the only way you are likely to infiltrate Ass Bradford’s organization is to be a fired for cause FBI agent. You will clean out your desk, and SAC Glover will escort you to the personnel office where you will turn in your issue firearm and your credentials. I will go along as well to ensure the ploy works. Glover will believe it is real.”

  Kroll shook his head and left the conference room. A box was already sitting on his desk. As an unmarried male, Ron Kroll had little in the way of office decoration to take with him. L. Winston Glover SAC, Ransom Carter, and Kroll’s Supervisory Agent, a black female, all escorted Kroll to the personnel office.

  With a sullen look on his face, Kroll turned in his credentials case and his pistol to personnel. He stepped out into the hallway and Glover said, “You finally got what you deserved Kroll. It has been an honor to escort you through the termination process.”

  Without word or warning, Ron Kroll knocked Skinny Winnie on his ass. Ron turned without comment and walked to the exit door. He heard applause as the door closed behind him.

  A stunned prostrate Glover muttered something about filing charges when Ransom Carter said, “I don’t think so Skinny, you asked for that.”

  The only thing that made the plan to infiltrate W. Ashton Bradford’s inner circle work was Ron Kroll’s well-thrown punch. Skinny Winnie’s decking was FBI legend before quitting time.

  Chapter Three

  The FBI Gulfstream IV reached cruising altitude; the copilot announced there was no longer need for seat belts. Ransom Carter unbuckled and went to the kitchen area. He came back with two cups of coffee and handed on to the Director. The two men sat in spacious facing leather seats.

  “How are you going to placate Glover over Kroll’s assaulting him?” Carter asked.

  “I’m going to enlist the Attorney General’s aid and tell him we don’t want the matter prosecuted due to a sensitive need to know undercover investigation. I think the rumor mill will work in our favor as well as Kroll’s. We would be extremely naïve to think Bradford doesn’t have ears inside the bureau. The AG will tell the US Attorney in Mobile not to indict. Glover will just have to accept that.”

  “Do you think Havelee Harris is our best choice to keep this investigation on track once Kroll establishes contact with Bradford?”

  “Harris is good, but she tends to be unorthodox at times. And she enjoys taking other agents money in shooting contests. Friendly sort of stuff that usually starts with the loser buys lunch. The HRT guys have stopped trying to beat her. They just pay up to get her to go away.”

  “Are you saying anytime she wants a free lunch she heads down to Quantico?”

  “That’s about the gist of it. Harris has served on Field Office SWAT teams and has a special sniper rifle assigned to her. A special weapons contractor we use in Alabama, somewhere around Mobile as I recall, built that rifle.”

  “Interesting, is her head back in the game after her divorce?”

  “Yes, very much so. Harris is ready for more responsibility and could very well make a good SAC or ASAC.”

  “Did Kroll give you an idea of what kind of agents he needs on his backup team?”

  “Yes, he wants a Latina female and two African American male agents. He wants the female to be an experienced undercover operative. The black guys having undercover experience would be nice, but their appearance is of more concern to Kroll.”

  “Do I want to know why he wants that particular mix of agents on his team?”

  “He is planning on using a prostitution ruse to get inside Bradford’s organization and then to report information learned.”

  “That’s enough, Ransom. FBI men as pimps. What else will Kroll come up with?”

  “That would be what we don’t want to know. I’m going to give Havelee Harris the agent requirements and go from there. I do want her to have the option of using Ernesto Smith if she finds a place for him. A reward for his spotting Bradford.”

  “Good idea, maybe he can out shoot her.”

  “This is likely to wind up in the Tucson Field Office’s area of responsibility. How much of need to know do you want them to have?”

  “Adele Lane is the SAC out there. She isn’t exactly my idea of a team player, and she would micromanage an operation like this. So just give them an overall brief without naming names and refer them to me. Congresswoman Fallon McKay is lobbying me to assign Lane as Congressional Liaison. If this investigation takes off, I will assign Lane to Congress and brief Quarles her ASAC. I don’t think he is ready for the top job yet. I am willing to give it to Harris if the Bad Apple’s investigation goes well.”

  “Good idea, we will probably need to bring the Phoenix SAC into the loop at some point.”

  “Agree, but let’s keep Bad Apple’s in our offices for the time being. When they get close to making arrests, we will let everyone in who needs to know.”

  Rev. Theodis Cleckler invited his visitor to a sitting area in the office corner. The couch, coffee table, and a couple of chairs made meetings more personal. Theo had not seen the attractive silver-haired lady in several years. She was an Air Force wife who once attended his church.

  “Lois Thornton it has been a long time. I was surprised to see your name on my appointment calendar.” Cleckler took the woman’s extended hand in both of his. “It is so good to see you.”

  “And it is good to see you as well Theo. It has been entirely too long.” Lois Hamilton Thornton replied.

  “Please sit down. I have fresh coffee if you like?”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

  Cleckler poured two cups of strong chicory coffee and served them on a tray with cream and sugar. He put the tray on the coffee table and gestured for his guest to help herself.

  Lois Thornton took a sip and said. “Theo I haven’t had Café Du Monde Coffee in years. I was so glad Katrina didn’t destroy that place.”

  “Lois, Café Du Monde coffee is one of my vices. Fishing is the other. How is the General? Enjoying his retirement, I hope.”

  “Saying the General is retired is a misnomer. He’s fine. I expect the time he spends on the golf course is covering up meetings. We have enjoyed being back in the south and away from Washington.”

  “Where did you all wind-up? Close I hope. I would love to have you back in our congregation.”

  “We’re in Point Clear Alabama. We’ve only been there a couple of months. It is a bit of a drive for Sunday mornings. But we will make it when we can.”

  “I know you will. And you will be welcome anytime you choose to come. How is your brother Lyon? I haven’t gotten an email from him in some time. And my emails are not answered.”

  “Lyon is why I am here Theodis.”

  “What is wrong?”

  “I haven’t heard from Lyon in six mont
hs. With our post-retirement travel and then the move. I sort of lost touch with my brother. I decided to call him a couple of weeks ago, and a stranger answered the ranch phone. He was a very profane person with no manners. Finally, he put someone on the phone he called the boss. This person told me he owned the ranch now, and Lyon had moved to the Fiji Islands. The so called boss was civil on the phone but not helpful. Lyon Hamilton would not sell the Rocking H Bar and move to the South Pacific.”

  “I agree. My family and I still cherish the vacation we took in Arizona and the time we spent on your awesome family ranch. Lyon always told me God blessed him with being the caretaker of one of the most beautiful places on earth. After seeing it, I believe he is right. How can I help you?”

  “I met Lieutenant Jolene Hadfield when she spoke to an Air Force wives group at Kessler Air Force Base. I called the Biloxi Police Department wanting to speak with her. They told me she retired and moved out of state. I know she spoke highly of you and often attended your church. Do you know where she is and how to get in touch with her?”

  “I do, and if anyone knows how to find Lyon it is Jolene Hadfield. She doesn’t live very far from you in Baldwin County Alabama. If you give me your phone number, I will call her and have her call you.” Theodis got up from his chair and walked to his desk. Once he had a pen in hand, Lois Thornton gave him her number. He pushed the button next to Hadfield’s name on his speed dial. After four rings the call went to voice mail, and Cleckler left a message.

  “Lois, Jolene is really good about returning calls. I hear from her soon. And you will hear from her as well. You referred to her as a lieutenant, she retired as Deputy Chief.”

  “Thank you, Theo. I appreciate your doing that. How are your family and your boys?”

  “Mrs. Cleckler is well, and my oldest is in college at the University of South Alabama. He is staying in a dorm over there. We see him most Sundays, but not all of them.”

  “Theo, we have to enjoy them while we can. Once they get to college, they are gone living their lives. I hear from my daughters a couple of times a month. And if we are lucky we see them once a year.”