Chapter 47

I woke with a start, hearing the TV announcer say "Good morning, it's a wonderful Wednesday morning."

The clock said five o'clock, so I had the choice of sleeping another hour or getting going. I got up and called the desk to see if I could get into the pool this early. The desk clerk said, "The gym is open and there are two lap pools in there. Would that do?"

I went to the gym and rode the bike, used the treadmill, then used the free weights for twenty minutes. When I was done with all that, I used a lap pool for the first time to swim as hard as I could for about fifteen minutes. I was even a little dizzy from the strain.

After doing my triple S, I had breakfast and showed up at the station at seven-thirty. The ACE was already there and welcomed me. He said, "Grab a warm donut and coffee and let me brief you on our problem. The Chief will be here any minute, but if you want, you can read these files for a few minutes to find out what we know to date."

I quickly read the files and to find that the trials the judge had been presiding on were all corruption cases. Contractors were giving kickbacks to inspectors and some of the people letting the contracts. The pattern was showing that the amounts of the kickbacks were enormous. The bigger problem was that the work being accepted was shoddy, and in some cases, unsafe. Several witnesses had turned up missing, never to be found again, but the remaining witnesses were all being protected. The prosecutor had not lost a case so far, but there were two convicted men who had disappeared. They had probably fled the country.

I asked the ACE to get me an appointment with the judge after I talked to the Chief.

The Chief came in with a hard hat in his hand and a little messy. "You weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow. Glad you're here, though. We found a witness. He was buried in six feet of concrete. It's amazing the way those dogs can sense human remains underground like that."

I told him I had read his office file and thought it might be good to talk to the judge. He made the call himself and turned to me, "Let's go. He's downstairs in his chambers. The Bureau is there sweeping the place. They do it every morning now.

In the judge's chambers, I was introduced to Judge Manny Mankowski. He was about a hundred and fifty years old, but looked fit. He had a strong grip and a ready smile. I asked him why the defendants were allowed time after conviction and sentencing before being jailed. He said, "A man has things he needs to do before he goes to jail, possibly for the rest of his life. I like to give a man that opportunity."

"Do you still give it to them if they are a flight risk?"

"That's your job then. Perhaps your men should accompany the convicted man until he reports for his term."

"Judge, we're seeing an epidemic nationwide, not just here, of felons fleeing while on bail awaiting sentencing or appeal. There is evidence that their efforts are receiving assistance from organized crime. I strongly recommend that for the time being, until we can get a handle on who's involved in this problem, you should withhold allowing these convicts time to settle their affairs. This is obviously true of those who are convicted of violent crimes, but as I said, it appears that a broad range of felons are flight risks right now. Please don't let these men out after they are convicted."

"I hate to do that to a man, but if you really think they are that bad, I'll keep them and accelerate their sentencing hearings."

The old judge continued, "I have a sentencing hearing at ten. Court convenes at nine, but I have several motions that I must discuss in court before the sentencing. If you wish to attend, I would be pleased to have you within my courtroom. Having been a Federal Judge now for almost forty years, I'm still excited every time I step into court. I'm charged to know the law and direct proceedings according to the law most every day. Sometimes I even get to decide a case using the law the way it was intended. What a wonderful, awe inspiring task I have. I do enjoy citizens witnessing the law in progress."

The Chief and I left and he said, "Let's go back to the office so I can clean up. Since the judge has seen us, we need to come down for his performance. The man really is proud and humbled to be a judge. Can you imagine, he has the same enthusiasm for the law forty years later?"

The Chief cleaned up and we went downstairs to the court room as the bailiff was announcing the judge with the traditional "Hear ye, hear ye."

The old jurist went right to work, calling on a congregation of attorneys, giving his decision with the laws and cases that were referenced for the decision. A couple of attorneys vigorously objected to the decision, but the judge just said with a straight face, "That is my decision based on the law. If you have objections, the court will allow motions or you are free to appeal to the Eighth Circuit where they are a lot stricter. Meanwhile, I see that some of the defendants are not present this morning. As we have had some difficulty with keeping sentenced prisoners close at hand, I am issuing an order for all who have been convicted and sentenced waiting for motions or appeals to present themselves to the federal court clerk before close of business today. Any of these people not showing up will have their bail revoked and warrants issued. Please advise your clients to see the clerk by five."

You could see this order upset some of the attorneys who jumped up and almost ran from the courtroom. I whispered to the Chief, "Find out which cases have defendants out on bail, waiting for their appeal. We might be able to salvage some capture time if we get an early start tracking them down."

The sentencing hearing began with the defense attorney and a sneering, smug defendant standing.

The Judge was holding a paper in his hands and looked up, "Ronald Marchel Colon, you have been tried and convicted by a jury of your peers of witness tampering and intimidation, fraud in relation to federal building contracts, bribery of a federal employee and a contractor, money laundering, assault of a federal law enforcement officer, and attempted murder of a federal law enforcement officer. The probation office's report indicates no mitigating circumstances, and you have declined to cooperate with federal investigators or the US Attorney's office regarding these or any other matters. You are sentenced to an aggregate one hundred and twelve years, to be served consecutively. Your sentence will begin at the Florence, Colorado SuperMax facility, though you may perhaps earn a more lenient confinement after a few years of good behavior. Would the bailiffs please take Mr. Colon into custody?"

The attorney almost yelled, "Your honor, aren't you going to give him a chance to put his house in order? I've appealed every count. Can't you allow my client bail while waiting for the appeal?"

"Mr. Colon has been convicted of some very serious crimes against the government, as well as individuals. Unless and until his conviction is set aside, he is no longer entitled to the presumption that he is innocent, because he has been proved and found guilty. This is not the type of person that should be with the citizenry of our country. I've already denied your motions for new trial in his case, and he's had time prior to today to take care of personal business. The sentencing guidelines are no secret, and it is a mystery to me how you could have thought that Mr. Colon might merit bail pending appeal. You know where to file your appeal and how to get the fastest possible hearing. " The judge thumped his gavel and said, "Court will reconvene at one o'clock. Um, Mr. Johnson, would you see me in my chambers?"

The exit was as formal as the entrance. You have a feeling of awe and respect the way the man spoke and conducted himself.

The Chief and I went to the judge's chambers and were immediately ushered in. He smiled and said, "Was that the approach you wanted me to take?"

"Perfect, Judge. I appreciate that you are giving us a quick look at who might be running out before it's discovered that no bail will be given and the prisoner is long gone. If some have bugged out, we'll have an earlier, warmer trail."

The older man said, "I'm not comfortable with some of the reactions of the attorneys during the motion hearings. I would like to request two items, please have your office get with the court clerk to inventory all who are awaiting sentencing, for delay or appeal. I will be able to evaluate the seriousness of the situation. This is your department and considering your past record, you'll have them back in house quickly. Second, I want to have some protection for a while. If these men or the men scheduled to be tried, feel I am going to be too strict, they may want to find a way to delay a trial until another judge can be brought in. The other judges that sit in this division handle routine criminal matters like all federal judges, but pass all the serious cases on to me. Can you help me on this?"

The Chief said, "Judge, from this point forward, until you say stop, you'll have protection as good as the President gets. We have been keeping an eye on you and your home; this will just make it easier. If we are obviously watching you, that will keep the casual revenge seeker away. Let me organize the process. If you wouldn't mind, we will provide a car and driver for you and your wife."

"My wife has a driver, but will lavish in the attention. My sweet Wilma doesn't get out much any more, but will now want to go to all of the fancy stores to show off her bodyguard. I hope your man can keep his hands from my ravishing beauty." The judge began laughing loudly, enjoying his own humor. On his desk was a smiling picture of Wilma. She was as wrinkled as the judge, but with the same soft loving appearance.

As we went up to the station, the Chief said, "I just love that old man. He has a smile every day he enters his court. He truly believes in blind justice and will admonish us for our slightest infringements. Since we know we have to have our shit together when we bring him a case, he knows that when we bring a case to him, it's a good one."

"Take care of him. I wish we had the entire Justice department full of jurists with his dedication. I'm going to the Bureau lab to see what they have found out about the devices you've found. I'll be back up in a few minutes."

The Bureau lab wasn't all that big, but had a trio of geeks, two females and one guy, that were all busy doing something. My intrusion was initially frowned upon, but when they found I was truly interested in their work and what they had found out, it was like a bunch of kindergarten kids trying to tell the teacher something.

They had me sit at a desk as they showed me photographs of each of the items, with a corresponding photo of the location and a diagram of the room.

Next they began showing me the manufacturer, the distributors, and the dealers. Since each item had a serial number, they were able to track the devices to two different dealers, one in Chicago and one in Cleveland. In Chicago, the dealer had good records with sales receipts, as well as a credit card receipt. Agents were tracking the cardholder at that moment.

The other devices from Cleveland were bought by what was discovered to be a dummy dealer that was housed at a national construction company out of New York City. Further, Venice Construction Company was known to be owned by organized crime members.

One of the three techs said, "We tracked the items to people. Agents then had to find the people and question them. When agents entered the company in Cleveland, they were met with a lot of hostility and were told to leave unless they had a search warrant. A judge has issued the warrant and agents are serving it now. We kept agents on site so nothing could be removed."

Another added, "The cardholder who bought the device in Chicago is from St. Paul. He's a private investigator with some underworld dealings. Agents have been trying to find him for a few days. His family is reporting him missing."

"Good job. You've done a lot. Do you have any information about the guy they found this morning out at the construction site?"

The lady who appeared to be the leader said, "Not yet, but the forensics guy and his assistant are working on it. We're not a big office here, so they may have to send some of the material to Chicago or D.C., depending on who has the time to work on it."

I nodded and said, "Tell you what, I'll call Chicago and have them put anything you send over there on their front burner. They have a big enough lab to get some quick answers. Tell your forensics man so he won't spend too much time trying to do something he's not equipped to do."

We both made our calls. The Bureau Chief in Chicago had been one of the men down in the Branson, Missouri meeting. He immediately asked, "When are you going to have another of those meetings. My wife said that was the best she had ever attended. I can tell you she was happy. I'm still getting bennies from it."

I explained what I needed and what it was for, he said, "Still working the interagency thing I see. I'm happy to work with you and your guys. I guess you're one of my people now too, aren't you? Tell them to send what they need worked on and we'll have our best people working on it as soon as it's in our hands."

The lady who seemed to be the leader was hesitant when I asked her to have her Agency Chief come in. When I queried her, she said, "He doesn't like to work with other agencies. He's not open like you are. Don't tell him I said that, I'm just trying to warn you."

"I'll go talk to him. We need to work together on this."

In the Bureau station I was kept waiting a very long time before a tall, crew cut man in shirtsleeves sporting a shoulder holster came to a door. "I see you waited. Whddaya want. This is the FBI, Deputy Marshals are upstairs."

I approached him and said, "Please, may we go into your office? We need to talk privately."

With a loud antagonistic voice he said, "Anything you have to say may be said right here. You and me, we don't have any business together."

I handed him my card, it read: Charles M. Johnson, Senior U.S. Deputy Marshal, Senior Supervisor, U.S. Law Enforcement.

He looked at the card then back at me and dropped the card on the floor. "What the fuck is a Senior Supervisor of U.S. Law Enforcement? The only guy between me and the director is some faceless D.C. bureaucrat, John Scott. The only time I hear from him is when I have a problem, or if my budget is fucked up."

"You have a problem. His private number is on the reverse side of my card. I would suggest you call him right now."

The man's eyes began flickering with recognition that he might have made a mistake. He looked at me, down at the card under his foot and back up. I was still standing in the same spot, looking at him. It took him a billion mental calculations and a couple of seconds to swallow his pride before he knelt down to pick up the card. He glanced at my legs to see the pant leg against my stalk and looked at me as he stood. "Are you from Florida? Tampa?"

I nodded.

He rushed into his office slamming his door making the blinds on the door rattle. A couple of minutes later my cell phone rang. I answered, "Johnson."

"Hey, the idiot Chief where you are just called me. I'm his regional supervisor, I should have warned you and him. Sorry. He hates anyone not in the Bureau, I don't know why, but it hasn't served him well. Does this mean I should get another man in there?"

"Not yet, let me work him a little and we'll see whether he needs to go to another station as an agent. I'll also look up his record. If he's been a good troop, it would serve us well to keep him."

"Thanks, Chuck, that's fair, this is why you were promoted to what you do. That and parties down in Branson." He was laughing when he got off the phone.

The door opened and the Chief said, "Please come in." When I entered, he shut the door and stood beside his desk. He pointed to his service weapon, his ID, and his badge case. "I guess you want these."

"Not yet. First, you and I have to work out why you have the attitude you do. You wouldn't be the Bureau Station Chief if you were not qualified."

"What if I can't work with you?"

I looked at the man and said, "I can't imagine why we can't work together. I'm going to make a few calls from upstairs where I have my briefcase. While I'm gone, please write down the major cases you are working on, which agencies referred them to you, and what interaction you're having with those agencies now as a result of those referrals. I'll be back in less than thirty minutes."

Upstairs, in the Marshal's station, I was able to get a desk and get my laptop up on their network. I called Wanda, "Minneapolis is a problem. There are several problems here, but I'll work them out quickly. I'm going to call John but while I do that, pull the file for the Bureau Chief here. Post it on my PC so I can read it and print it out. That will help a lot."

Wanda said, "I've been waiting to talk to you and didn't want to call you on your cell. A few other hot spots have popped up and will probably need your attention. Call me when you have a chance."

I called John, when he answered I said, "Have you been poking pins in my doll or what? I'm running all over the place and found a real mess in Minneapolis, not only the original problem, but also the Bureau Chief. I'm getting the information to see if I can work out his feelings about the other agencies. And now Wanda says the problems are stacking up?"

"They are and I may have to come out to help. Must be a full moon or something. Your judge's case up there seems to be showing up all over the country. It's going to come back here to D.C., but between now and then, we have a bunch of federal judges that have been threatened and even one who had a brick thrown through his window with a warning. Can you believe this? This is 2009, not the forties or fifties."

"Let me handle one at a time. What do you know about or how do you feel about the Bureau guy up here."

"Don't know him. I don't remember any complaints about him, but you know my office manager is going to blow a lot of that stuff off."

"I'm pulling his file and will read it quickly. I have him giving me some information about major cases and how he's working with other agencies. It should open his eyes, I hope, and I'll take him out in the field real quick so he can see that deputies work too."

"Hope it works. If you need more help, call Chicago, the Region chooses the successors. He has to come up for station changes so you don't have to worry about it. Don't waste a lot of your time today, we have other problems."

I asked the Marshal Station Chief if they had any potential captures this afternoon. He said they were setting one up for two of the convicted men awaiting sentencing. We had found out they were making arrangements to fly to Canada in a private plane, followed by flights to South America. I asked him for a radio and said I might want to join the capture. He told me he would make sure his deputies knew.

Downstairs, the Chief was finishing his list. I told him that I wanted him to take part in a U.S. Marshal's exercise so he could see how another branch did investigative work and serious apprehensions.

I radioed the team setting up for the capture to find out where to meet them. I said to the Bureau Chief, "Let's go, you drive, you know where this place is."

We drove to the airport and to an area near where my plane was parked. Was it only this morning that I flew in? The plane in front of a hangar that the sentenced men were going to fly out on was a B200 like the one I had, but didn't look in that good of a condition. The team leader there said he had men inside the hangar, posing as inspectors for an aircraft. There were also men by the front office, as well as by the side of the hangar nearest the plane. I asked if the plane had been disabled yet. I received blank looks.

A maintenance guy was driving by with a tow vehicle. I stopped him, showed him my badge and got him to take off his coveralls. He had on casual shorts and a "What me Worry" T-shirt underneath. I put on the coveralls and drove the tow vehicle right up to the plane. Inside the well worn cockpit, I found what I was looking for, a set of keys. Amazing, an expensive airplane like this left with the keys inside. When I got out of the airplane, I shut the stairs which was the door and used the keys to lock the plane.

Back with the group, I took off the coveralls and told the ramp attendant, "Don't go to that hangar and keep your mouth shut. Don't talk about this to anyone. If you don't think you can do that, radio your boss and tell him your truck is broke and where you are."

The man looked confused, so after he put his coveralls back on, he radioed his supervisor and said he was working on his truck and he would call back.

I told the guy, "Good decision, now we don't have to worry about you."

"I'm curious, I want to watch."

The team leader said, "Please stay behind cover, who knows what's going to happen."

I had an idea, "Do you mind if I borrow your coveralls again? It shouldn't be for too long."

I put the coveralls on and advised the Station Chief of my intentions. "The tow vehicle will be a perfect cover. I'll take it to just the front of the hangar and when they come out, I can be a distraction while your men make the capture."

The leader asked, "You have your vest on?"

I patted my chest and said, "It's in my bag in your office."

"Come here." We went to a car where he pulled a bulky vest from the trunk. "Sorry about the old style but it is what it is. You don't go out on my field without your gear."

He was the team leader here and in control, so I put it on under the coveralls. I made sure the sides of the coveralls were unzipped so I could reach in for my weapon. Hope this was quick and short, because I had left my other three magazines with the vest. I did have one spare, so I had thirty rounds. That's a lot of rounds, but you never know.

I pulled up in front of the hangar door and left the motor running. There was a clipboard that I picked up to at least make it look like I was doing something. My radio was in the wire radio carrier with the volume on low.

The radio crackled, "They're in the office, they just pulled up. Six men got out of the car and the car left. Repeat, there are six men, two subjects, four others plus the pilot."

The awareness meter just went up. The danger meter did too, but this was so open, you wouldn't think there would be a problem. Instead of waiting to pull my piece, I pulled it out and set it beside me on the seat. It couldn't be seen by anyone unless they were next to me.

Seven men walked out of the hangar. The lead guy was obviously the pilot, complete with sunglasses, while four of the trailing men were doing the neck swivel thing, bodyguards.

As soon as they cleared the door, I revved the tow vehicle acting like I was going to move while still holding the clipboard. The four trailing men all looked my way with the trailing two nearest me reaching for their coats.

Three deputies with vests and caps came from the side of the building and hollered for them to stop, lie on the ground, and put their hands over their heads.

Everything always happens so fast that it's hard to comprehend sometimes.

The pilot took off for his plane with the two men we wanted running directly behind him. One was reaching for his coat. Two men that had been in the process of looking at me while pulling guns, swiveled the other way and saw the three deputies. One of the men turned back to me, brought his gun out and fired a shot at me so fast I didn't get a chance to shoot or even pick up my gun.

I was knocked off the tow vehicle. Thank goodness it had a dead man pedal and didn't move. I had to reach up on the seat to get my gun. I saw the two bodyguards begin to fire while the deputies were yelling their stupid warnings. I shot both of the bad guys with four shots. Two rounds at each and finished both as they were falling.

The second pair of bodyguards had not been that fast in reacting, but were now pulling handguns from shoulder holsters. I didn't wait, I put four alternating rounds into each of them, one each in the body and one each in the head.

I swiveled to see one of the men following the pilot was on one knee aiming at the deputies. I fired hitting the man in the body. He rolled over but was getting back to his knees. This time, at only about fifteen meters, I put one between his eyes. I brought my weapon up on the pilot who was hidden from me as he was trying to get into his airplane. The other guy looked around the aircraft and raised his hands.

The whole thing took maybe fifteen seconds, maybe not that long. I felt something wet on my sleeve and looked to see red on the sleeve of the coveralls. Now I felt hurt. Shit, another good shirt. I pulled the coveralls down to see how bad it was. I had to rip my shirt sleeve from the cuff up and saw a wound on both sides just above the elbow in the fatty tissue. I ripped the sleeve off my shirt and wrapped it around the wound in a tourniquet compress to stop the bleeding.

The Bureau Station Chief came running up with another deputy asking about my condition. I showed them my shirt, but my lower chest hurt. I looked down to see that the bullet had deflected off my vest tearing the outer fabric and ricocheted into my arm. The deputy was calling for an ambulance.

The Bureau Chief said, "Holy shit, do you guys do this often? That was very professional. Those guys were pulling guns so fast they didn't even give you time to warn them."

I looked up at the deputy and the Chief, "If you see guns, there is no warning. If a suspect shows a weapon, you must consider that they are going to shoot to kill you. Defend yourself and ask if they were going to shoot later. Read your SOPs. I've sent out multiple memos on how to conduct yourself if you are confronted with weapons."

Both men just looked at me as if I was from Mars. I was sure they were thinking, "What SOP?"

The cleanup trucks were already on site, so they began immediately. The team leader came up to me and said, "Well, we did get to capture both of the men we were after, but will only be able to hold one of them. Ah, have you ever considered not shooting men in the head? That's just too fuckin' messy."

"The first two were finishing shots, but the other guy showed armor because he didn't stay down from the first round, and I know it was a good hit. Head targets are called for. That's why the range targets are made that way. That's why the decision course is set up that way."

The team leader said, "Glad you have to write up your own incident reports. My guys didn't even fire, they were all a day late."

The ambulance came and insisted I had to go to the emergency room. The Bureau chief said he would come down to rescue me and bring me back to the office.

At the hospital, my badge helped get people moving. An older doctor came in, with an older nurse who took off the wrap. "Good job wrapping it, young man. What do you think, Jenny, is this just a flesh wound, can we send him back out in the field?"

The nurse said, "It's been a thousand years since then, Doc. Was that the last time we worked on a bullet wound together?"

The two cleaned me up inside and out and did something only military field people do. One stitched one side while the other stitched the other. They finished and bandaged me. The nurse asked the doctor, "One heart or two. He did get two wounds."

"Ah, just one. See his leg; what do you want to bet he already has at least one?"

They asked and I told them about the lucky RPG three days after getting a scratch that had to be stitched. They both nodded saying they had patched some guys almost on consecutive days.

The doctor gave me some pain pills and a bottle of antibiotic pills. "Take these for pain if you need them, and take those until you've taken them all. Keep your arm in a sling at least for tonight, and don't sleep on it. You didn't lose a lot of blood, but maybe enough to make you lightheaded. Have a big steak and a glass of wine."

He put his stuff away and said, "Now you have to go down to X-ray to see if you broke a rib. That tear in your vest tells the story. You were a lucky man today."

The nurse said, "I'll take him down, they won't give me any shit about doing it right away. I'll be right back up, Doc."

The nurse wheeled me through the hall and in and out of an elevator. The radiation guys weren't that belligerent and had me standing for a chest picture quickly. It took only a few minutes for them to hand the nurse the picture. She pushed me back upstairs and we were met by the doctor as we entered the area. He had me sit in a chair while he looked at the picture. "I have good news and bad news. The good news is you don't have a broken rib. The bad news is you have two cracked ribs, so no heavy anything for three weeks. You can do leg exercises but no arms, chest, or stomach. I can see you're in shape, so I know you work out. You'll just have to catch up later. Have a doc look at your arm and have another X-ray to make sure you're mended."