the Dirty Dozen - Chapter 65

   The techs were all done with processing the scene. The homicide investigative team was done with their analysis of what had happened. The line workers were happy that less of them were needed at a time as well. Keeping people out of the cabin itself was now more of an issue than keeping people out of the property. With all the bodies and evidence gone, there was little to attract the press to sneaking in.

   Mike had the lead homicide investigator address the group. They were, after all, his troops.

   "Okay, people. I want to make it perfectly clear, to everyone here. We are holding back information from the public on this case. The cards, will not be made public. Now, everyone is familiar with this aspect of a homicide investigation. We don't expect anything further, down the road. In fact, anything down the road, more than likely happens for DC city IA. This is being withdrawn from the public on their request. Everyone understand?"

   Everyone seemed to understand it, without any problems.

   "Told you Mike. Keeping something back, is normal. The techs are used to that, my homicide team… it's entirely normal. You need anything else?"

   Mike sighed.

   "Not that I can think of. Panic? You came out of there, and told us she finally got a decent night's sleep."

   Panic nodded.

   "Homicide? You think that's a good omen?"

   The homicide team already agreed to guess, that the shock was wearing off. They guessed she would now start to show signs of being quiet and unsure of herself.

   "Panic? You ready to go in there, and announce my intentions? You're the one she trusts right now."

   "No vest, no gun. No tricks. I'll vouch for you, if you promise not to burn me."

   "All right then. If lead homicide wants to go and address the vultures… and Panic wants to go in and see if he can set this up… let's just get the show on the road."

   The homicide team went to speak to the press.

   "All right, all right, let's calm down. Someone want to tell me when we're rolling?"

   One of them looked around.

   "I'm sure we're a go. Whenever you're ready."

   "Hello. The Pennsylvania state police, homicide division, has gone over this case thoroughly. As we stated before, we are now in a position to give you more information. As you already know, we have been processing this scene with great interest. No expense in terms of manpower and expertise has been spared. Laboratory results have been coming back in, and it's all leading us to one conclusion."

   "This situation was precipitated when a group of off duty city DC officers, decided to initiate a conflict. The intended victim? A lone woman, a witness set to testify to an upcoming trial in DC. The victim fought back. The victim? Got lucky and survived."

   "Now, the policy of the Pennsylvania state police has not changed. Victims of violent crime? Will not be publicly identified. At this time, I have been authorized to inform you… that the victim in this case, is not being charged with any criminal charges. All evidence coming back from our laboratory results, supports the conclusion. The victim acted in self defense."

   "The final stage of this investigation, however, remains. The victim is still barricaded in the bar you see in the background. The FBI agent, who spoke to you earlier, when we gave you our preliminary information? Has entered into negotiations with the victim. As you can imagine? She is scared. Nervous. Shook up, and quite frankly… in a state of shock."

   "The FBI agent, is preparing to go in and talk her down. If you care to look over there… you can see, we have police taped off a location where you can get a good look at the front door of the bar. If everyone agrees, that there will be silence, we're content to let you get footage of this unfolding. In twenty minutes, give or take? The FBI agent in charge, is going to leave his bulletproof vest, and his sidearm, outside. And attempt to go in and negotiate a peaceful ending to this situation. We ask you all to appreciate the gravity of this situation, and not make a scene. Things are tense enough as it stands already. Thank you."

   The press mobilized into the area marked out for them, and set up shop. The talking heads, loved the footage. The FBI agent, taking his shirt and bulletproof vest off. Taking his gun off, and handing it to one of the homicide investigators. The talking heads loved seeing this happening right over their shoulders for their camera crews capturing this dramatic moment in the case.

   "Here, you can see the FBI agent, in charge of this situation, behind me. He is preparing to go into the bar, and negotiate with the shooter. This is obviously a tense moment, as the shooter in the bar is clearly responsible for the deaths of thirteen police officers already. Everyone is optimistic, that this situation can be brought to a peaceful conclusion…"

   Merry stayed back inside the open door, and Panic came to the door, with his ball cap pulled down low, obscuring his face.

   "Our sources tell us, you're actually seeing one of the witnesses in this case, escort the FBI agent into the bar interior. The Pennsylvania state police refuse to identify the witness or the victim in this surprising case. We wish him luck while he's in there. You're watching this unfold, with KJAX news? Live on scene. We'll keep you updated on any further developments…"

   Once the door was closed and locked behind Mike? They all got to drop the act.

   "Uncle Mikey. How good of you to come and have a late breakfast."

   "Yeah, yeah… you got some of that platter left?"

   "Sure…"

   "Panic? You had breakfast yet?"

   "Hey. We were both waiting on you. The platter? Is on simmer in the oven. Merry?"

   "Go sit down. If I can't cook like this… I can at least serve the food."

   Panic and Uncle Mike went and sat down at the nearest table to them in the bar, and Merry brought out the warmed over tray of food.

   "Are we going to have a beer, to celebrate?"

   "One. Make it a good one. We can't be in here doing beer bongs all morning. We're supposed to be negotiating."

   "Here you go…"

   Merry sat the warmed up platter down. Passed out plates and silverware. Everyone got a glass, and Merry went and retrieved one expensive beer for each of them, uncapped them, and set them down before sitting down herself.

   "Hey. This is good. I can't believe it… I'm living on cold pizza and cold coffee, you two are in here getting catered food. Christ almighty. Meat and vegetables for a home cooked dinner."

   Merry snapped sweetly.

   "I'm in here, without a bath and clean clothes. At least I get food."

   "You two… I don't wanna know."

   Merry and Panic looked at each other…

   "What, Uncle Mikey?"

   "I don't need any particulars. Everyone is buying the story, that Merry the former steakhouse waitress? Took out 13 dirty cops. Homicide bought it. The public is buying it. Officially? I'm buying it, too."

   Panic grinned.

   "Officially? That's all that matters."

   "Yeah. Officially. Don't you two sit there, grinning at me, and think I buy this whole thing for one second. I know you were up here, Panic. I don't know how you pulled this off? I don't care. We're not going to mention it."

   "Uncle Mike? I don't play ball anymore. Now? I'm just a coach. I run practice, and sit on the sidelines."

   Mike regarded this coming out of his mouth… but silently. Without malice on his face. Panic now was curious to know…

   "How's this work now?"

   Uncle Mike sipped his beer.

   "Aw. We stay in here, negotiating. Close to an hour, I think, would be about right. Then? I'm going to escort Merry here, with me, into my car. She's going to have to make a statement, to the state police homicide unit."

   Merry spoke up.

   "What statement? On the advice of my lawyer… my life was in danger. I stopped it. I refuse to make any other comment, on the advice of my lawyer. Charge me, or, release me."

   "Right. Of course, I'll be there with you, every step of the way. I'll take you into my own custody, to escort you off to safety. Panic? Unless I miss my guess… you don't want to be a TV star any more than Merry here. When me and her go out the front door? You can slip out the side door, and get a ride home from your buddy. Shouldn't be too hard, for you to slip off into the background."

   Panic wondered aloud…

   "What happens then?"

   "Well… Merry? Is going to get some time off. Before the depositions for the trial start. You? Can go back to whatever the hell you were doing before this shit all got rolling. I'm guessing, of course, but… my niece here? Will probably want to spend time at home. Which, unless I miss my guess? She's as safe with you, as she would be anywhere else. Can I promise both IA guys, that there won't be any more fireworks?"

   Panic looked at Merry first…

   "I'd ask the DC city force, about that…"

   "IA tells me, pretty much anybody left, got carted off of that hill in a body bag. That said, as far as anyone else is concerned? Merry goes back to DC, in protective custody. A victim of violent crime, her name and face not released to the press. The press can meet Merry, at the trial. Anyone looking for Merry, and that's press or otherwise? Will start looking, down in DC."

   "So… I get another 90 days off with pay, to recover from my ordeal, hmm?"

   "That would be standard. I'm sure I don't need any details, on how my niece recovers. As long as I don't have to see it on the news. You… are you going to put off early retirement, long enough to see the trials through?"

   "Yes, Mikey. I won't leave you in the lurch like that. I can guarantee you I finish out my ten years, to at least vest. Then? We have our eavesdropping operation to attend to. You ought to enjoy that even more, now."

   "I will. A nice quiet operation, I might add. Just the occasional garden variety assault, like normal. Now, which one of you released those videos?"

   Merry chuckled.

   "Technically? I did. I emailed the same people, that I emailed the manifesto and that stuff to. I guess my steakhouse fight videos are making the rounds on the internet?"

   "And how. People are already editing videos, showing the cops laughing at the assaults by the FBI wives crew. One edit? Shows the FBI wives in an SUV parked illegally by the side door. Drinking out of a big, blue bottle… before coming in."

   "And the undercover video? How's that one going."

   "The same. People are figuring out, the girl with the face and the voice smeared on the video? Is the victim. The press has already started grilling the cops already in custody, let alone these three survivors. It's like blood in the water. The sharks? Are circling."

   Panic asked…

   "IA's not mad? The undercover video getting released, without their consent?"

   "No. They get it released, and they don't have to look bad releasing it. The shooter? Already released video proof of her attempted murder suspects, along with the manifesto. Everyone just naturally assumes, the shooter released it as further proof of the cop's guilt. Their defense lawyers? Whoever draws that straw… will be pulling their pubic hairs out, trying to get them a 'fair' trial…"

   Panic smiled. Mike asked what. Merry shared his smile and answered for him…

   "If you ever find yourself in a fair fight? Your tactics suck."

   "Right. I still can't believe how good this worked out, all the way around. Merry? Next time, just try to keep me informed about any changes in your stunts you're going to pull, would you? My mental health can only handle so much."

   Merry smiled.

   "So, we can finish our meal?"

   "Yes. A hot meal is a hot meal. I figure we'll finish the hour out, make it look good."

   After a while, Mike asked Merry for her gun. She handed it over, and Mike looked at it.

   "The fuck is this?"

   Merry smiled.

   "A flash hider."

   "You're ass is a flash hider, for a lit fart. Is this what I think it is?"

   "If you think it's a flash hider, that works really good? Then yeah, it's what you think it is."

   Mike unscrewed the machined suppressor from the gun.

   "I don't remember issuing you a sidearm with an extended, threaded barrel."

   Merry smiled.

   "Drop in part, Mikey. Aftermarket."

   "Is this going to affect ballistics? The state police lab is going to want a couple of test firings. I intend to keep the gun, for evidence, naturally. Which allows me to hand it back to you when we're done."

   They both looked at Panic…

   "It shouldn't. It's a couple thou over bore diameter. Smooth. No lands and grooves. The pressure release holes, are polished."

   "Right. Tell you what. We'll just leave it with the gun, that actually explains a lot. Between the bright lights blinding the cops, and having a flash hider and a suppressor? They couldn't see, and then they didn't know where the shots were even coming from. It explains how you got the drop on them."

   Mike screwed it back on, marveling at it.

   "Is this class III ?"

   Panic coughed.

   "Not exactly…"

   "Doesn't change anything. Claiming self defense? Erases any criminal charges from defending your person. I'll give this back to her, when this is over. She? Is allowed to have toys, technically speaking. What she does with it? Is her business."

   "All right. I'm going to go out the front. Alone. I'll talk to homicide, get a car brought around. Then? Merry will come out with me, and get right in the car and we'll drive to the barracks. Panic? You can still go out the side door, when all the attention is on me and Merry."

   Mike went out the front door, carrying the gun in a brown paper bag. He showed it to the homicide team, who nodded. Between the bright lights to surprise the hit team, and now this? It went a long way explaining how the woman got the drop on everyone.

   Mike had his driver come around, and pull up close. Both IA guys that came up with him, were waiting. His driver sat behind the wheel. The press was having an orgiastic moment, covering the peaceful resolution to the situation. Homicide went and addressed the press, while Merry came out with Mike. Merry had one arm around Mike, as if he was supporting her, and she was on the verge of collapsing. The press ate it up like candy, and crew members with free hands cheered.

   The bikers looked like they were all up for the big moment, and gave her a steady clapping, in time. It made their claps blend into one giant clap with each iteration.

   Merry was holding a magazine up against her face, to hide it from the press, like any person embarrassed to be on the news. While homicide handled the press like lion tamers without whips and chairs, Mike hustled Merry into the back seat of his driver's cruiser. Both IA guys got in on either side of her in the back sitting around her. Mike hopped in the front passenger seat, and they were off.

   Panic slipped out the side door, the MASH command tent hiding his exit from the press. He had an armful of things with him. Rob hustled him into his pickup truck, and they were off as well.