by Dan Arnold
“I’ll have you arrested for…”
“No, you will not.” Jack interjected. “John is right. He has been an essential part of this investigation from the beginning, and we still need him now. Our combined focus has to be on the matters at hand. Gary is the best lead we have at this time. What he learns tonight could be essential. Our job is to keep him safe and gather as much intel and evidence as we can in the process. Doug, I suggest that you start organizing the surveillance teams. I’ll arrange for eyes in the sky.”
“I would remind you that you are not in charge of this investigation Agent McCarthy. The FBI is the lead agency, not the DHS.”
Jack smiled at him, a cold smile that I had seen before. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“I would remind you, that in matters of national security, DHS is the coordinating agency. I have the Director of the FBI on speed dial. If I push that button Agent Booker, by six o’clock tonight, you will be on an airplane headed to Pocatello, Idaho, or some other stopping point, on the way to the end of your career. Try me and see.”
I thought for a moment that Doug would do just that.
“No, I know that DHS has overall responsibility for these things. I don’t mean to deny that, but…”
“Good, then we understand each other. John, will you come with me please?” Jack said, as he opened the door of Doug’s office.
Jack didn’t say a word as we left the Federal building.
Outside, he said, “Where’s your truck? I’ll drive you to it.”
I didn’t argue, the heat had hit us like a hammer when we left the building.
As we drove out of the lot, he spoke up.
“Doug is under a lot of pressure.”
I nodded. “So is Gary, we all are.”
“Yes, but this is Special Agent in Charge, Doug Booker’s, first high profile situation. He has never managed an investigation of this complexity or an emergency situation like this, separately, let alone all at the same time. Tyler is not exactly a primary assignment for a career minded guy like Doug. This is his big break, and he wants to shine.”
“I can’t afford to have him make a mistake, with Gary’s life on the line.”
“He may surprise you. He hasn’t made any mistakes so far. Sure, he’s a little frayed around the edges, and pretty intense, but he’s done everything by the book.”
We had come to a barricade, and a couple of uniformed officers were moving it aside to let us out.
“I’m not sure that he can handle it.” I stated.
Jack looked me in the eye.
“That is not something that you are in control of. Is it?”
And there it was. He was right. Nothing about this situation was mine to control. God alone knew what would happen, and only He could protect Gary.
As we pulled through the gap in the barricade, I sat in silence and contemplated those things.
“You’re right. I am not in control of what happens next. No wonder Doug finds me annoying.”
Jack smiled at that.
“That’s not the real reason he finds you annoying.”
“What is it then?”
“You are very open about your belief in God.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“You are aware the Righteous Army of God, is supposed to be a group of white Christians?’
“They are not Christians. They’re a hate group. There’s nothing remotely Christian about hating anyone. They hate people who are not like them, particularly people of color, and pretty much every religion, Jews, Catholics, Hindus, Muslims, and whatever else. Since they aren’t any of those, they just figure the only thing left to claim is “Christian”. Christianity and the hatred of any person are mutually exclusive. Jesus said, “If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen”. Christians are called to love, even their enemies.” I pointed out.
Jack shrugged in indifference.
“Hate is a funny thing. There’s usually a reason when someone has a hate problem. What you don’t know is that Doug’s father was a Pentecostal preacher. I don’t know the particulars of how he abused Doug, but he did abuse him, and he said that ‘God told him to do it’.”
I closed my eyes.
How many people have a distorted view of God as “Our Father in heaven” because of the relationship (or lack of one) that they had with their earthly father?
“The authorities eventually got involved. Doug’s mom was a hopeless alcoholic, so Doug was placed in the foster care system. He has worked very hard to get where he is. He worked his way through college. Along the way, he was taught that the most horrific things that have happened in history were because of people’s religious beliefs. He graduated with a degree in criminal justice, with a JD. He passed the bar in 2000, and went to work for a prestigious law firm in New York City.”
“I guess he thinks he is a self-made man, pulled himself up by his own bootstraps, and all that.” I observed.
“On September 11, 2001, his fiancée was working in Tower One of the World Trade Center, when Islamic jihadists attacked us in the name of Allah. She died in the flames and rubble.”
I closed my eyes again.
Sometimes, I can’t believe I’m such an idiot.
“He joined the FBI pretty much the next day,” he concluded.
Jack pulled in behind my truck and stopped.
“Now, at this point in his career, he finds himself in Tyler, Texas, not New York, L.A., Chicago or even Dallas. No, he’s in Tyler, Texas. You need to cut him some slack.” Jack indicated.
“You’re right, I didn’t know any of that. I would point out however that you threatening to end his career could hardly be considered as cutting him some slack.
“It saved a lot of talk. We don’t have time to waste on gentle suggestions.” He replied
“So I can’t be open about my relationship with the Creator?” I asked.
“Doug is anti-religion, not just Christianity, he hates all religions, but Christianity and Islam in particular. He’s almost an “equal opportunity” hater. He knows a lot more about hate, than he does about love. Try to be sensitive to that.”
I nodded, as I climbed out of Jack’s car.
“… And, be back in his office by three o’clock.” Jack yelled out his window, as he pulled away from the curb.
Forty-Seven
Christine seldom misses anything. She practically pounced on me, as I walked into our office.
“Is Gary alright?
“Yes. Why do you ask?
“Duh! I’ve been watching the news all day. Are you alright? You seem… burdened.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“John, please tell me what’s happening with Gary.”
”He’s supposed to attend a meeting of the Righteous Army of God radicals this evening. We’re planning to follow him and provide whatever protection we can.”
“Did they kill that D.A. in Longview?”
“We don’t know. No one has claimed responsibility.”
“Why would they?”
“Whoever did it has an agenda. At some point they’ll want the world to know who they are and why they did it.”
“I heard some sort of bomb was found in the Gregg County courthouse.”
“Yes, pipe bombs, but they failed to detonate. They botched this whole thing. Thank God.”
“They killed the D.A.”
“Sadly, yes. He was only a target of opportunity. Their planning was very imprecise. They wounded the Sheriff over there, but he is expected to recover and he shot at least one of the attackers. The bombs were crude. The whole thing was sloppy.”
“Do you think maybe they learned their lesson and they won’t try something like this again?”
“No. I’m pretty sure this was a first strike and the only thing they learned is that they need to do better planning.”
�
��Why? Why are they doing this?”
“There have been several arrests and prosecutions of members of the RAGs in Gregg County. If the RAGs did it, In their minds it’s a political statement. They’ll make an announcement”
“No, a political statement would be ‘I don’t like the current administration’ or ‘I vote for the candidate, not the party’. What they did is murder.”
“I understand. I’m just answering your question.”
“John, why here? There have been arrests and prosecutions of members of the RAGs all over the country. The jails and prisons are full of white supremacists.”
“That’s the point. The leadership of the radical wing of the RAGs is right here in East Texas. They’ve decided they want to punish anyone who has opposed them. They are starting here, but they may be planning a bigger campaign. That’s the reason Gary is doing what he’s doing. With him inside, we’ll learn who their leaders and footmen are and we’ll be able to stop them.”
“What is going on in this country? Why is there so much anger and open hatred?”
I looked at her.
“Christine, you know why.”
She was thoughtful for a moment.
“So many people are frustrated and dissatisfied with the way things are, they lash out at anyone who interferes or seems to oppose their personal beliefs and agendas. We are no longer united by shared values or beliefs. Division is the order of the day.”
“Why do suppose that’s happened?”
“Maybe because we try to accept so much diversity, we have no core values in common. We no longer teach the Bible in our public schools, not even the Ten Commandments. Most Americans say they believe in God, but they don’t attend church and they don’t read their Bibles. People who consider themselves sophisticated and erudite reject even the notion of God, any form of deity.”
“True, as a nation we have rejected God from our culture, and replaced Him with many gods.”
“Do you think He is judging our nation?”
“I believe He has left us to enjoy the consequences of our choices. A nation that does not honor God will not be blessed by God. Without His blessing, grace, mercy and guidance, we are left to our own devices and vices.”
“It’s getting pretty ugly isn’t it?”
“I suspect it’s going to get a lot worse, here in this country and many other places. Everyone will do what is right in their own eyes. Under those conditions, anarchy is coming. Where there is anarchy, a strong leader will emerge and some form of order will be imposed, but it will not be God’s order. Think Hitler, Stalin or Pol Pot.”
“Surely not here in America?”
“Wait and see. Those who do not learn the lessons of history are doomed to re-live them. Those who reject God will be rejected by Him.”
“How will we live in a world like that?”
“You’ll live each day the same way we do now, by faith. God will always take care of His people, wherever they are. Take care of each other. Continue to be salt and light. Love your neighbors and try to lead them to the light. Continue to be faithful, until that day when he returns or calls us home.”
Christine nodded.
“Until that day…”
Forty-Eight
America’s southern forests know no state boundaries. They stretch from Virginia in the East, to Texas in the west and include most of the south-eastern U.S. The city of Tyler is surrounded by forest land and forestry is a major part of the local economy.
By five o’clock that afternoon there were eight men hidden in and around a section of clear-cut timber-land situated on a hillside about eighteen miles east of Tyler. I was there with Doug and six other FBI agents. We were all wearing tactical camo gear and four of the agents were snipers. We had chosen hiding places that afforded a line of sight to where Gary’s truck would be parked when he drove in. The land was torn up and littered with piles of brush, limbs and even whole trees that had been left to be burned. This was the same place that Gary had buried the body of a dead, black, drug dealer, in a shallow grave. That had made him look bona fide and been Gary’s passport into the radical wing of the Righteous Army of God.
While it was supposed to be at least an hour before Gary showed up, we wanted to be sure we were all in position when the show started. There were FBI agents and Texas Rangers in unmarked vehicles at every road crossing and intersection within three miles of this location. Every vehicle approaching or entering this patch of woodland would be photographed coming and going. The Texas Rangers were helping us because we didn’t know who we could trust in local law enforcement. Once Gary was en route to the meeting location, he would be followed by multiple units carefully choreographed to move in and out without attracting suspicion. The problem now was the weather.
The wind had picked up out of the north and the temperature had begun to fall, so had the rain. We drove in on the logging road in blowing dust. The rain started just as we emerged from the vehicles. By the time we had gotten into our hidey holes, the rain had become heavy. The cold front had arrived, eliminating any chance of our having a helicopter overhead. Without any eyes in the sky, we would be relying on surface vehicles to keep Gary in sight while he was being taken to the meeting location. The rain was both good and bad. It reduced visibility, but that worked both ways. While it made it harder to keep a vehicle in sight, it also made it harder to spot the tailing vehicles.
By five thirty, it was nearly dark. The heavy cloud cover and rain had reduced our visibility down to a few hundred yards, and that was fading with the light.
“Man, this is miserable.” Doug observed, as he scanned the area with his binoculars.
“I’d think you would be pretty used to rain, coming from Eureka, California.” I pointed out.
“Sure, but I didn’t spend much time belly down in a cold mud puddle like this.”
He was right. We were lying prone in a shallow depression under a snarl of limbs and brush about fifty yards above where Gary would park his truck. The rain was pouring now and our little blind was filling with muddy water. Because of the sound of the wind and rain constantly lashing us, we could barely hear each other speak. I figured the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees since earlier in the afternoon. In another hour, it would drop at least ten degrees more. The low this morning had been seventy eight. The high had been one hundred and one. The low temperature tomorrow morning was expected to be about fifty degrees, with a high of seventy three. We lay in the mud and tried to stay focused on the reason we were there.
I was wearing an ear bud and it told me I had an in-coming call. It was twenty minutes until six o’clock. I punched the button to make the connection.
“Hello?”
“John, it’s me, Gary.”
“Hey, Gary, what’s up?”
“They’ve changed the pick-up point. They’re worried about getting stuck in the mud at the logging site. They want to pick me up from the old Stuckey’s parking lot on the I-20 service road. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, it’s a good twelve or thirteen miles from here. Where are you now?”
“I’m about fifteen minutes away from there.”
Doug was paying close attention to my conversation. I muted the phone for a moment and turned to him, yelling.
“They’ve changed the location where they’re going to meet Gary. It’s the old Stuckey’s parking lot on the I-20 service road. That’s at least twelve miles southwest from here, and well outside the perimeter we set up. Can you scramble the surveillance group?”
“I’m on it!” He said.
Doug began sloshing to his feet and keyed his microphone as he started clambering over the limbs and brush that formed our blind.
I took the phone off mute.
“OK, Gary, here’s the deal. We’re sending units that way, but it will take a while for them to get into position. Don’t go directly to the location. Don’t drive in there until a few minutes after six o’clock. They changed the meeting locat
ion so they can’t expect you to be on time. When you do get there, try to stall for a while. Can you do that?”
“Uh, sure, I guess. You are going to cover me aren’t you?”
Yes, but we’re in position at the logging site. We’ve got units headed over there, but it will take a little time to get them set up so you won’t be able to spot them or notice them as they’re following you. We’ve got you covered. Just don’t get there early.”
“OK. But you’re sure you’ll be there, right?”
“We’ll have you covered.”
“Ok, bye.” He broke the connection with his usual brief adieu.
Doug was down by the edge of the logging road, assembling the agents from their hiding places.
I crawled out of the muddy blind and made my way down to them, in the driving rain.
“I told Gary we would be able to get people into position to cover him. I told him the truth didn’t I?” I asked Doug.
“Shit!” He swore. “Yeah, he’ll be covered, but we won’t be part of it. Every available unit is hauling tail in that direction. Our transport won’t be here for several minutes. By the time they get here and haul us out, we won’t be able to get there in time to do anything. Where’s your God when we need him?”
The other FBI agents fidgeted when they heard him address me that way.
“This is my A-team and these are my only snipers. We don’t have any other riflemen in the field. The best we can hope for is to get someone near enough that if things go south, they can rush to Gary’s rescue with sirens screaming. Gary isn’t wearing a wire, so we won’t know who he meets. Somebody will just have to follow whoever picks him up and hope we don’t lose them. If they slip by us somehow…”
“Let’s not borrow trouble. I told Gary not to go to the new meeting place early. He’ll show up there no earlier than six o’clock. Will that be enough time to get some units into position, or not?”