Chapter 11: You Ought To Be In Pictures

The lawyer said, "Billy, you and Dirk had better come with me to help verify what's on this disk. We'll land in the back yard of a friend of mine, Judge Wallace. We'll have a little show and tell party. "I need your phone," he told Amanda in the same breath. Amanda handed him her cordless and he punched the call button.

"Law Offices," a woman's voice answered on the first ring.

"Louise, prepare a release form and take it to Judge Wallace's home. Tell him I'll land in his back yard with probable cause for a court ordered immediate release from jail. Be quick about it." He hit the disconnect button and waved for Billy and Dirk to follow him on outside.

The three hurried out the front door together. Dirk carried his small disk reader with him. The three crowded into the two-man helicopter and took off. Amanda walked out of the house and watched the trio take off. Worry lines deeply creased her forehead as she locked the heavy inside gate after closing it. She returned to the house and grabbed Mark in a tight embrace with her good right arm. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Oh Amanda, will this ever end?" Mark asked plaintively. She did not reply. Her deep sigh was an answer more eloquent than words. They stood together in silence, not talking as they savored the closeness of each other.

"I think it's getting hard again," he whispered in her ear.

Amanda let out a little laugh, "You know just what to say to cheer me up."

As he overcompensated the compensator, the lawyer erratically herded the small helicopter through the skies. It caromed through the air, seeming to bounce off unseen obstacles and sharp cornered clouds. Dirk experienced the beginnings of airsickness for the first time in his life.

Billy, crowded tight against the photographer, endured in stoic silence until finally he muttered under his breath, "I left the safety of Afghanistan for this shit?"

They hovered over a large white house in eastern Long Beach for a moment before the lawyer plummeted them toward the ground. At the last second they came to a hover and eased down to a not so soft landing.

As they quickly climbed out of the small craft the lawyer ran for the back door. "Hello! It's me!" he called inside.

"Up front," a deep, man's voice answered.

The other two caught up with the lawyer. All three half ran through the house to the living room. A man who looked more like a cowboy than a judge sprawled in a large, leather covered club chair. A plainly dressed woman stood against one wall, arms folded, looked expectantly toward the door from the kitchen as it opened.

The judge growled, "This better be good, to interrupt my first quiet day in a month."

Without answering Dirk held up one of the two CD copies of the original flash disk and asked, "You have anything I can play this on? It would look better on a larger screen or monitor. Otherwise we can watch it on this seven-inch screen."

"Give it to me," Judge Wallace ordered. He accepted the disk from Dirk. He popped the flash disk into a small port and hit the "Play" button. He walked back to his chair and sat.

"This is a copy of the original I took. It's one of four disks. They record what Mike went through coming down here from San Diego. Believe me, this has not been altered in any way." His anger made his voice raspy and uneven.

The judge watched in silence to the end. "Give me that paper. I'll sign." He shook his head. "I've heard stories about a rogue bunch here in town, but this is the first tangible evidence I have seen."

"Thank you, your honor," Dirk said. The three hurried back out to the helicopter. In seconds they were airborne again.

They landed on the helipad at City Hall and hurried inside. They were stopped at the back entrance to the police department. "Give me the watch commander on duty," the lawyer ordered impatiently.

"What about?" the man on the desk asked.

"About your job if you try to dick with me. I have a court order for the immediate release of a prisoner." Hartman Rector held it up to the window so Judge Wallace's signature could be read.

"Pass it through the slot," the man on the desk said

"No way," the lawyer answered, "Papers have a habit of disappearing in this place. You call the lieutenant or ranking officer on duty right now or we get back to Judge Wallace and have a contempt citation slapped on you, the lieutenant or whoever and anyone else we think of." The desk cop made a show of moving slowly as he sauntered out of sight around a corner.

Within minutes a man with captain's bars on his shirt collar walked out. "Okay, what is this all about?" he demanded.

"Please accept this court order from Federal Judge Elmo Wallace for the release of one Mike Kelley. He is to be placed forthwith into our custody." Rector slid the paper under the gap in the window separating the outer hall from the inner jail and police department.

"What's this all about? The captain asked. "I know of no high profile federal prisoner in here."

"Two of your cops stomped a reporter named Mike Kelley in front of a witness and his camera. That just became a federal charge. The judge has seen a copy of the disk and signed this release order. Now you either honor this court order or I call the judge. I am out of patience with you. Move it or lose it. I'm referring to your ass." The lawyer's voice sounded as deadly as a cobra attack. "The clock is ticking."

"Who are the policemen who allegedly injured a civilian?" The captain tried to stall.

"One's name was Larson. I heard it when I viewed the disk the second time." Rector turned to Billy, "Give me your cell phone, I'm calling the judge."

"It won't work in here. The signal goes out too weak to get through all the metal." The captain tried one last stall.

Billy handed it to the lawyer. He turned and grinned at the captain, "Sorry, bitch boy, this is a sat COM. It will send almost anywhere."

Hartman punched in a phone number as three cops came up from behind. One reached for his holstered weapon. Billy's fist formed a hammer. The hammer struck the collarbone and the cop let go of his gun. He moaned as the pain of a broken clavicle shot through him. Billy stood at the ready, waiting for the next hostile move. "Be thankful it was a clean break. Better get him out of here, he's in a world of hurt."

"Judge," Hartman said into the phone, "The police here at the city jail refuse to release the prisoner."

"Let me talk to the idiot in charge," Wallace's voice came back.

"He asked for you by name, Captain," the lawyer said. "Better open the door and take the phone call."

There was a buzzing sound and the door to the interior of the police station opened. The captain reluctantly came through and accepted the phone. "This is Captain Rogers," he said formally. The phone squawked loud enough everyone present could hear a few of the words the judge roared at the captain. He finally said, "Yes sir, I understand." He quietly handed the phone to Billy who re clipped it.

"Hanks," he told the door guard, "Get booking and tell them to bring this Mike Kelley here now, no bullshit. He turned to the lawyer, "Look, I don't know what this is all about. Will someone please tell me what's going on? I never heard of this Kelley."