the Dirty Dozen - Chapter 56

   The chief sent a guy up to relieve the guy he had watching the car, and him and the others free searched the area in the underbrush, off the road. They all fished and hunted in their spare time, and it didn't take too long, too far, off the road to notice a line of marks.

   "Guys? Look. Just stare out at the wood line. You don't notice anything? I can see it from here… it's harder to track a deer after you shoot it, than a city faggot in the woods."

   He was right. They followed the line of slightly broken leaves, almost straight save for any terrain obstacles… and once in the edge of the wood line? Came up with a rotten hollow log.

   "There could be snakes in there… bugs… fuck…"

   "Oh, shut up and get your arm up in there…"

   "Nothing. Nothing… no--- aha… got something."

   He pulled out a zip lock baggie, that matched the others they had already found. They handled it as best they could, by the edges, wearing gloves, following instructions.

   "Just don't fucking drop it. So far? We don't look like idiots to the state police, and the FBI hasn't been complaining. Report it to the chief. I don't know if we have to document it with pictures, leave it here, or what."

   "We stayed off of the path he made getting up here."

   "Right. Call the chief. Do not go through 911. Everyone is happy the press ain't here yet. Keep it that way as long as possible. Keep using the local switches on the radios. You need anything?"

   The guy taking over guarding the car and the local scene it created shrugged…

   "No. Not as long as you guys don't get food down there and don't bring me any up."

   "All right. Let's go. Remember, call us if you get any suspicious vehicles."

   "Okay, but, what's a suspicious vehicle look like? Hmm?"

   "A heads up on anything official looking? State police have a crime van coming in, probably be a bunch of state police suits coming in. You really can't miss a news van, you know. And… anyone stopping and asking too many questions, you don't know the face. That'll be reporters."

   The rest went back to report success. Homicide had a pow wow with the chief, Mike, and all three locals following the chief around dutifully. Both IA guys came in as well. The chief called Panic over to join in.

   Homicide asked Mike if he wanted to address everyone.

   "I don't normally work homicides. You've been doing a good job up until now. Keep it up."

   "What exactly do you do? Normally I mean."

   "I'm not a junior agent, obviously. I was a full agent. I've been a senior agent for a while now. My job? I usually try to administrate and coordinate long standing investigations. My job? Keep documenting progress. Try to keep everyone on their toes. Keep things from becoming another day at the office, when long term shit isn't very exciting. The brass wants to see progress. Incremental progress. On long term investigations? People start questioning we aren't just burning through budgets for no good reason. Long term investigations? Usually start and finish other smaller investigations. It's my job to try to manage this shit."

   "I never met an FBI agent that got sent out, that wasn't interested in being in charge before."

   "Well, you met one. I can't possibly micromanage every last thing. The guy I replaced? He tried that. He had a heart attack. The joke around the offices I work out of? In DC? They call guys that do my job… stagecoach drivers. I do that, I guess. I try to move in the right direction. I try to set the speed. Start and stop things at the right time. The trip hits a fork in the road? It's my call whether or not to investigate what's down that side trail."

   "Well? How are things going so far."

   "It's a giant, hairy mess. I think we've done everything we can do. I don't think we've really fucked up royally yet. If that woman in there, would just start cooperating? I'd like to wrap this thing up, but… that's where we're at. You're not stepping on my toes. Tell us all where the fuck we are on the trail."

   "All right. We can't leave those bodies up there any longer. At a minimum? We can't move them out, until I get a little team of other homicide guys to see if I missed anything. Quiet weekend in the county, I got three maybe four guys like me coming out. We're going to put gloves on, walk around, see if everything looks like I think it looks like. Crime scene techs will be here soon, coming in with them. We just need the bodies out, and documented. Then? We can take our time with everything else, evidence wise. We have a bad scene here, it's really open, hard to control the scene. Fucking press is going to be trying to sneak in and snap gory videos and photos. Motherfuckers have even tried dressing in plastic and sneaking in with the other techs."

   "You can't arrest them for that shit?"

   "Sure. I can, and I do it. Doesn't do me any good… we get screamed at about freedom of the press, and we end up having to cut them loose. My hands are tied on that score. No prosecutor will touch any reporter. They've fucked my scenes up before. The only thing I can try, is to keep them out. Once they get in? All I can realistically do, is… throw them out. Doesn't pay to try anything else. I try it? The press all turns on us, and we get three days of being called Gestapo on the TV."

   "Why does it sound like the press is in charge, once they find the scene?"

   Homicide ran his fingers through his hair…

   "The press? Like a bunch of children, with no authority or supervision. You ever try keeping little kids out of that one room in the house? Good luck."

   "What's the best way to handle them?"

   "Be firm. Be polite. Everyone does the no comment thing, until it's time to feed them. We have to promise them feeding time, then follow through on the promise, and feed them what they want. Within a day or two? Hopefully there will be something else to attract their attention comes along, and they'll run along, and fuck someone else's scene up, instead of ours."

   "Well, what do they want?"

   Homicide smiled sarcastically…

   "It's a pack of wild dogs. They want what all wild dogs want. Fresh meat. If it bleeds? It leads. What do they want? Statements. They crave official statements. They want pictures and video of men and women in plastic walking around, so they can show the public it's just like the TV shows they watch. They want packs of cops talking and pointing. But, mainly? They crave fresh meat."

   "What's the fresh meat."

   "Body bags. They gotta get video of the goddamn body bags getting dragged out. The talking heads on scene? They want to get on camera, with the body bags in the background, getting hauled out. When that settles down? A final wrap up statement… they'll start disappearing."

   "The pressure comes up, the pressure goes down. We ride it out, right?"

   "Well, normally. We have the added fun, of someone barricaded in. A standoff. Assholes are going to try calling the bar. Getting her story. Running in to snap a close up picture at the worst possible moment. You can expect news helicopters before it's all over. They love to get the bird's eye view of all the… manpower."

   Mike pouted…

   "That? Is exactly what I don't want."

   "Mike? I'm concerned with my scene. That's the end of my job. You? And these two… you're from DC. Do you care what's going on in DC at the moment?"

   All three, Mike and both IA guys admitted it. They had some idea. They had gotten texts from guys they worked with. Everyone was way more concerned with here and now, for the time being.

   "Right. If you're curious? Fallout?"

   "Go ahead. What do you know…"

   "The manifesto got released, just like she said. It hit the internet, and within a few hours it got around. The pictures, the videos? That too. I hate to admit it, but…"

   "What?"

   "Remember that biker, what he said about it's not going to be fun to be a DC cop in the near future? He wasn't kidding."

   Mike now ran his fingers through his hairline.

   "I'm afraid to ask. How bad is it?"

   "Bad. Getting worse by the minute. The DC cops must have been real prize assholes every day, dealing with the regular folks they see everyday on the street."

   "IA could speculate on that, better than I could. What's going on?"

   "You got a woman, a waitress. She spilled the beans in her manifesto, remember? The police tried to sneak in and assassinate her, to prevent her from testifying. Now? The police sent a hit squad, out of state, to try and snuff her again. You can't hide thirteen dead off duty cops in a pile, you can't hide three cops in custody."

   "Talking heads on TV are starting a good old fashioned pig-sticking. Typical. It'll die down, it always does."

   "Teenagers? Are throwing eggs at cops cars. Throwing raw bacon on beat cops walking around. It's a matter of time, until someone, on one side… or the other? Does something particularly fucking retarded."

   "Oh. Well, they earned that one. They can deal with that fallout. Good for 'em… No offense, IA…"

   "None taken, Mike. Kinda expected that one, being honest."

   "Then? You got the parades scheduled."

   "What parades?"

   "No end to it. Every special interest group you can imagine, is demanding a permit to demonstrate."

   "Such as…?"

   "Women's groups. Violence against women's groups. Black lives matters has already gotten a permit."

   "She's white ?!?!"

   "Yeah, but… BLM claims this has been happening to them and theirs all this time in DC, and no one would listen to them. They're pissed."

   "Who else?"

   "Oh, it's fun time. You know all the watchdog groups? That like to videotape police? Negative interaction videos on the internet? Live streamers trained to catch them being bad cops?"

   "Oh Christ…"

   "Yeah. Matter of time, until someone does something incredibly stupid. Probably be the cops that do it, getting scared. That's just all the liberals. The conservatives are getting in on the feeding frenzy too."

   "What conservatives?"

   "Second amendment groups are coming out the woodwork. DC doesn't allow handguns, and carry permits. This is what happens, when law abiding citizens can't arm themselves. They need to protect themselves from normal crime, and, from the dirty cops now, too."

   "Anyone else?"

   "Just to make it more fun? Bikers are pouring into DC, flying colors, riding around in packs. The bikers? Have been issuing statements on the internet. Hey, we been telling you for years, the dirty cops are worse then we ever were. We were trying to protect an innocent woman, from killer dirty cops. Innocent citizens have nothing to fear from us, it's the cops you gotta worry about."

   "We already knew we weren't going to catch any breaks on this one. Everyone in DC knew, from the moment we got the first report? This was a shit-storm, touching down in two states."

   "Yeah. Everyone's demanding resignations from the DC city chief, and top brass. Ordinary citizens? Are beating on the police station's doors and windows. Throwing shit on the cop cars. Can't even do anything about it, realistically… what are you gonna do? Send cops out with billy clubs and tear gas? It'll just get worse. All it's gonna take? Is one person, to do one stupid thing… and DC is all set to look like it went through a fucking can opener."

   "Well. We're up here. In the sticks. In the shit. That? Is someone else's problem, for now. IA? You considering a change of career before you get back?"

   "I got thirteen dead bodies, got what they deserved. I got three live ones? To parade their heads around on sticks, so the mob might calm down. The politicians? Will handle resignations. Someone has to fall on their sword, for all the rug sweeping that just exploded from under the rug."

   Homicide asked what they were going to feed the press, as that time was coming soon.

   "I… am in favor? Of doing the strangest thing, that anyone ever once thought of doing in this situation."

   "That would be…"

   "I'm considering? Just telling the goddamn truth for once."

   IA chimed in…

   "Ain't nobody likes hearing it. The public? Likes the rug sweeping, whether they realize it or not. The police? Love the rug sweeping. That's the good cops, the bad cops, and the brass all the same. Being IA? Never was a real popular job…"

   "We gotta get that girl out of there. Get her into a courtroom. Once the public sees that law dogs are being thrown onto bonfires? They'll cheer and settle down. Is IA willing to be frank about this?"

   "IA has no choice. I been in favor of telling the truth the last two times shit went down. Everyone else? Either lifted the rug, or manned the brooms."

   "Fuck it. Everyone's watching us. Just keep dotting I's, crossing T's… like any big shit-storm? This has to just burn itself out. We can't fuck this up. Just keep your heads down, and try to steer this thing into a station. I don't see anything else to even try."

   The chief got word the first state police vehicles were arriving. More were coming.

   Mike wanted to know what homicide wanted, would his men take orders from him.

   "This my scene. My name's on it. It's my baby, as far as Pennsylvania goes. Mike? You tell me what you want, I'll take my cues from you. Out of Pennsylvania? It's your mess, and I don't envy you, in the least. My men? Will take orders from me, we all done this before. Just never with this big a spotlight on us. Just whisper in my ear, I'll make it happen."

   A couple state police cars started pulling in. A helicopter was already starting to circle up high above. Mike looked up at the helicopter.

   "Please tell me, that's yours…"

   "Nope. That's the first salvo, from the press corps. You can expect the ground troops to come in like infantry at any time now. I gotta run, see if I can get this circus tent police taped off, for all the fucking good it's going to do me. Mike? See if the chief's in the mood to try a little crowd control. I recommend no comment as the only thing that comes out of their mouth, but, it's only a suggestion. Everyone? Starve the press, until we can circle the wagons and draft a preliminary statement. Panic? You don't have any plans on becoming a TV star, do you?"

   "Oh, fuck no. I just wanna get back to my own goddamn case. I can't have my face on TV. I'm an unpaid consultant, I'm not allowed to make any public comments on anything."

   Homicide yelled over his shoulder…

   "Then carry something around with you, and hide your face. Or, stay hidden. We'll get you a comfy spot behind the building behind the tape lines. Everyone just keep their heads down… Panic? I feel sorry for you. At least we're all getting paid to put up with this shit…"