Special Weapons and Tactics Ch. 04

There is no sex at all in this chapter. It's all fiction except one kernel IS based on reality. See the end notes.

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In 1873, ten years after the Battle of Gettysburg, the US Congress authorized and commissioned a painting of that "turning point of the Civil War" to be hung in the Capitol building foyer. It was to be a large painting - 6x10 feet - and was to show the Union resolve and dominance over the Rebels with that crucial victory. The painter who got the commission was a nephew of a Maryland US Senator and was a pretty good painter just building a reputation for himself.

Jonathan Winstead spent the next 2 years in the endeavor. He visited the site of the battle and talked to many eyewitnesses. The battle itself took 3 days and had a cast of almost 200,000 participants - and roughly 46,000 casualties - total for both sides killed, wounded, captured and MIA. It was the most casualties of any single battle in the whole war. In particular Jonathan met many of the surviving officers involved on both sides and took sketches of them for portrayal in the painting. He also met with families of some of those men killed and copied existing portraits and even a few photographs of those officers and noncoms now long buried.

It was a masterpiece when he finished, and depicted the very end of Pickett's Charge - the "high water mark of the Confederacy" - when a handful of Confederate soldiers actually broke through the Union line on top of Cemetery Ridge at the "Angle" before Union reinforcements arrived and threw them all back. General Pickett's division was more than decimated (a Roman term meaning "1 in 10" and was a form of punishment used on Legions that had performed badly in some ways - like running away during a battle. It actually matched historical casualty rates OF battles, losing sides normally only lost 10%, just overall statistically and was undoubtedly meant to hammer home the point that NOT fighting was never actually an option.) Pickett's division was cut literally in half and ruined henceforth as any kind of effective fighting force.

But unfortunately for Jonathan Winstead, despite the accuracy and brilliance of his finished painting, the bitter winners in Congress decided this was NOT the kind of painting they had in mind and would not accept it or pay Jonathan for his work. It did not show the Union victory clearly enough for them. He had basically wasted 2 years of his life. To merely recap his expenses he finally found a buyer - a nice Southern gentleman who wasn't all that concerned of the bad memories any depiction of Gettysburg would bring. And the painting was then handed down within Andrew Butler's family for all succeeding generations.

Which is how it now happened to be hanging on the wall in the downtown Mobile law offices of Gathers, Brindle, Weatherby, and Butler. This was not the best part of town. In fact, this "office" was in a refurbished single story warehouse type building close to the Mobile docks. A building that once had numerous large rounded windows that were now all totally bricked up. The entire office was mostly an art gallery - with the "Battle of Gettysburg" it's crown jewel. There was NOW a standard offer from the US Congress to buy this painting back ("name your price!"), but its owner, George Butler, refused to sell and his own wealth and contacts immunized him from Federal pressure.

His firm was one of the wealthiest not only in Alabama but the whole Old South - and he had lawyers licensed in Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Florida as well as Alabama. And Washington, DC, of course - with a thriving lobbyist practice there shepherding Southern Federal spending "concerns" - like Litton Shipbuilding in Pascagoula, MS and its ongoing US Naval contracts.

This private art museum wasn't exactly a secret - since all the wealthiest clients of the firm certainly knew of it and sometimes came by just to look at all the wonderful paintings and a few sculptures and Ming vase type antiquities. But it was never publicized to the general populace and one would never know what was inside such a plain red brick exterior old building otherwise. Discrete surveillance cameras occupied all 4 corners of the building, and there were only two doors, one in front as the main entrance and a slightly oversized rear "loading dock" door. Both were steel and with reinforced steel frames.

At night 2 armed guards were posted inside and 4 in two cars patrolled outside. At the current almost insane art world pricing, at least $80 million worth were housed in this modest locale. The private security might have been overkill since art isn't exactly a favorite kind of item to steal and is more of a specialty crime - but really the actual cheapness of this real estate more than paid for the extra security anyway.

During working hours only one armed guard was on site - but all four partners had carry permits and kept handguns in their own desks as well. And they all knew how to shoot from lifetimes of hunting in their own genteel fashions.

This must be why the decision was made for an armed daylight robbery. There was almost certainly some insider info. A man and woman dressed in excellent business attire entered first and the woman tasered the receptionist before she could hit the silent alarm. The man had already started moving towards the guard room and entered with his own automatic drawn. The guard was watching the outside camera monitors plus the foyer monitor and had already dismissed the "nice couple" entering the office and missed the tasering.

That was the last mistake he ever made as the businessman opened his door and shot him in the chest with one silenced round before he could react. He died shortly thereafter and even wearing a vest would have made no difference since it was an FN Five-seven - a favorite weapon now of the Secret Service POTUS Protection detail. It fired the 5.7x28mm high velocity teflon coated armor piercing round.

The man keyed his encrypted comm gear twice and three more "businessmen" entered through the front door office while a paneled truck drove down the narrow alleyway to the back of the building.

The plan was to quietly and quickly herd everyone into a conference room - stripping them of all cellphones - then lock them all in while certain already selected pieces were loaded into the panel truck through the loading dock door. The number one objective was "Gettysburg".

But the insider information just wasn't quite complete. George Butler happened to be there that day as the only partner actually in the office. And he had his own small tablet monitor that shifted between all the security cameras at 2 second intervals. He DID see the receptionist being carried into the interior by a large man and he immediately hit his own silent alarm button and also called 911 from his cellphone. After seeing at least 3 large men and a woman entering, and all now displaying close combat type H&K carbines or maybe Uzi's, he wisely decided NOT to pull his own gun out but described as much as he could to the 911 operator then put his phone down while leaving it on. Mere seconds later his door burst open and he slowly raised his hands as the man motioned for him to get up and he was pushed into their largest conference room. He actually wanted ALL his people safely locked in there before the cops showed up and any lead started flying.

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John:

It was Monday and I was back at work after a really fun but emotionally tiring week of vacation. I still couldn't quite figure Susan out. We had finally started communicating again and she no longer seemed batshit crazy - but just more "stranger" now than ever before. What she had both told me and then how she had acted gave me a lot to think about.

First and foremost in my mind right now was just how great my kids really were. I HAD taken them for granted before Susan's crack-up and then I had been dismayed how they all seemed to turn against me, but now after this last week I appreciated and LIKED them more than ever and couldn't stand the thought of being apart from them for long periods any more.

Susan I just wasn't so sure about. I could probably never really trust her again as I had before. And the fact was that I had never quite felt that "crazy love" for her she had just told me she had always felt for me. Should I feel guilty about that? I had loved her a lot or I wouldn't have married her. And I had always been faithful even though I had been tempted a few times. A uniform is a "babe magnet" for a lot of babes and I had my share of offers throughout my marriage and had always refused.

Maybe one possibility was a closer and even renewed sexual relationship with Susan where I merely kind of faked love for her while protecting myself? Wouldn't everyone benefit but especially the kids? Maybe that whole "Romeo and Juliet" insane obsessive love isn't all that great anyway? Just trying to keep an open mind here as I pondered. One day at a time.

Monday was just kind of a normal day as I got back in the saddle and nothing much was going on. I didn't even see all my guys (and gal) as they were either on vacation themselves or out patrolling.

Our next group PT and TOU meeting wasn't scheduled until Wednesday at 7:00AM. I had already learned that from May on ONLY early morning running was wise. The temp hardly ever got above 92F in the summer in Mobile - but the humidity hardly ever got below 90 percent either - and that combination was just brutal unless one was REALLY acclimated and I sure wasn't yet. Frenchie and Karen and some of the others were, but I still thought it prudent to exercise outside only first thing in the morning.

That night I went home early - that is, actually on time - as I really wanted to see how it went for the kids. They were all in a really good mood and I was surprised they all seemed to have done a lot of stuff that wasn't either just TV or video games related. It was another whole day mostly spent outside for all of them.

Jenny and Carla had fixed an excellent dinner for us all and we just stayed busy talking. Kimberley was even more amazing. She interacted seamlessly between us adults and all the kids - including Joey and Kaylie as they were all still playing outside until almost dark.

It was 10 o'clock before I knew it and everyone was headed to bed. I hadn't called Susan and she hadn't called me either but I really didn't think much about it. Maybe she was already asleep herself I thought as my own head hit the pillow. I had another early day tomorrow as I was now about 30 minutes drive time from my station.

Tuesday morning was when it all kind of hit. Frenchie and Joe Rene were in the squad room with me today doing the all "important" paperwork and on call. Then the 911 call came in and the private security company silent alarm. We three guys headed out in the TOU mobile command center and I put out the call for all my other guys not already involved in anything critical to meet us one block over from that law office with the reported "multiple armed perps" robbery in progress.

On the way over I heard the call "shots fired, officer down" and paramedics dispatched and my guts turned cold. That's not something ANY cop wants to hear, ever. I had an even worse feeling. Karen Rigby was already on site, I was pretty sure. She was on patrol in that area and was one of the first responders to the initial 911 call. And yet I hadn't talked to her at all.

When we got there and parked I left Joe to round everyone else up and Frenchie and I walked the block over to check it out. It seemed pretty quiet and various flashing lights patrol cars were there but no uniforms had gone in yet, I hoped. The front door was open but we could see the interior door to the offices beyond the reception area was closed. I asked the uniform sergeant if anyone seemed to be missing and who made that shots fired call?

As I feared he replied, "Karen Rigby and a rookie, Jim Bast, got here first. Karen made the call from her radio and then went silent."

Damn, I thought - Karen went "cowboy" instead of waiting for backup and especially all of us. But I was pretty sure she would have had a good reason.

I was actually now the highest ranking officer on site and normally would not make the decision to go in, but I was really worried about Karen and the general silence. I used my own special comms to call Joe, "how many guys are here?"

"Al and Fred and me - and we're all suited up."

I could hear he was excited and ready to go, but I just hoped nobody was too excited...

"OK, it seems quiet - head on over here right now. Bring everything you can."

And I quietly asked Frenchie, "what do you think?"

"No windows and we've heard nothing. We should at least try and get a look inside via a snake camera, I'm thinking."

Joe had that and most of our other tools. We quietly entered the reception area and snaked the fiber-optic head under the interior door. Two uniforms were on the ground and blocking a lot of what we could see. Damn it.

"OK," I said "We're going in hot. Just like we practiced with a five man stack. Frenchie, any comments?"

"Not as long as I'm going in first, Boss..."

Damn, I wanted to lead but that wasn't really my job anymore. Frenchie WAS one of our designated point men and was trained for it - but he had read my mind or my eyes and I was itching to go in first. But he was exactly right and we both knew it.

"OK. I'm second, then Joe, Al, and Fred. Everyone remember your assigned quarter and stay cool. Just like a drill. We're ready when you are Frenchie - Fred has the door, right?"

Fred would open the door - and then be last man in. Frenchie was crouched with his own H&K MP5 rifle pointed down, safety off, and his finger on the trigger guard, as was I. He would check ahead and right first, I would check left and be right behind him. He would then focus on what was in front of him while Joe covered his right as we moved in following Frenchie.

It went like it was supposed too. The bad guys were already gone. Karen and Jim had both been shot up pretty bad. Looked like machine gun bullets had sprayed them and at least one was loaded with "cop killers" - teflon coated and pointed 5.7x28 mm, maybe. But they were both alive at least for now. I felt like crying looking at Karen and knowing what was coming if she lived, even. And yet I prayed she wouldn't die.

And I was getting mad and wondering what the hell was going on here? Why all that firepower for a lawyer's office?

Homicide, Robbery, and I were all now very interested in solving this and getting the bastards who had killed at least one person in this robbery and possibly two cops as well.

I kept all my guys together and ready just in case the "be on the lookout for" turned up anything in the next two hours, but that would depend on pure luck at this point since I doubted these kind of obvious pros would make any mistakes.

George Butler kept apologizing because he was now sure he had tipped the robbers off the cops were coming, since he had his people turn the conference table over and hide behind it once they were all locked in that room. It was visible thru the glass wall and that was when two of the robbers had positioned themselves for an ambush for any first responders that showed up before they finished. Karen and Jim didn't stand a chance and I still didn't know why they had decided to enter before other backup arrived.

Butler also filled us in on the value of the items taken - at least $50 million dollars worth, to the right people. That was one key, of course. It wasn't like $50 million in cash or bearer bonds or even gold or jewelry. Somebody undoubtedly very rich wanted one or more of those paintings and maybe somebody else had learned of this and decided to make the painting "available" for purchase after all. Butler assured us he wasn't about to voluntarily part with that "Gettysburg" painting. And all the stuff left was still worth $30 or 40 million, even.

I didn't particularly dislike or envy the super wealthy and their own eccentricities - until the fallout hurt other people. Like now.

After 2 hours I had everyone stand down and go on back to their assigned daily duties. I sent Joe back to the squad room and Frenchie and I headed over to the hospital in separate cars to check on Karen and her family and undoubtedly her fiance when my cellphone rang.

It was a St. Louis area code number that I didn't recognize.

"Hello."

"John Thornton?" A feminine voice asked.

"Yes, speaking."

"Hello, this is Rachel Horowitz calling you. I don't know if Susan mentioned me or my name but I am her psychiatrist right now."

"Oh, Dr. Rachel. Yes, she mentioned you. So...?"

"Yes." Sigh. "This is difficult for me and there are issues of patient confidentiality I have to consider here. But I am forced to make a judgment call without actually meeting you and based only on Susan's always glowing terms of respect for you..."

"Please, Doctor - there are some critical things happening right now for me in my job and I don't have time for beating around the bush."

"OK Mr. Thornton, here goes. Susan was basically "date raped" last night - but I also want to assure you she didn't even consider it a date - just a shared dinner with a much younger man she considered only a casual friend she had just met Sunday at the beach. Some drugging was involved. She is distraught on many levels and for many reasons and was even afraid to report this crime to the police because she was sure you would find out and think the worst about her. I had to convince her this morning to get some emergency medical attention and I've talked to the ER doctor and also spent a couple of hours talking to her, as well. The ER has basically documented and started a "rape kit" - but Susan is still afraid to talk to the police about it. And you and I both know the man might get away with it anyway in this whole 'my story vs. your story' buyer's remorse current environment. But right now above all else Susan does NOT need to be alone and away from her family. Is there anything you can do about it?"

Damn it. I hated this anyway but the timing REALLY sucked. And the big question for me was, 'is Susan going crazy again? Back to lying so well, maybe? How could I believe anything she says?'

"Doctor, she is welcome to come stay with me and her kids right now. That was already worked out but she was the one hesitating and deciding to take a couple more days at the beach before a final decision on this issue. I probably don't have to tell you, given our whole history, all the questions I have in the back AND the front of my brain right now."

"I know, Mr. Thornton, and it would be great for Susan to be with her family - but please try to be as gentle as possible with her. She is pretty shook up right now and she needs to be on valium again for maybe a week but I am hopeful that can be stopped pretty soon. I will also make myself available to talk with her every day for the next few days."

"Can she drive?"

"She probably could but I would not recommend it. Any way you could go get her?"

"OK, I can work that out - but she still has to want to stay with us. I'll give her a call. I am going to have to tell her we talked."

"That will be fine."

"Also, do you know any details on the man involved?"

"Yes. Susan said he told her his name was Sam O'Donnell and he is supposedly the son of an Alabama Senator and his family is 'old money' wealthy. He was merely vacationing in Gulf Shores by himself. That's really all she seems to know."

"OK. I'll start some unofficial inquiries on this guy with Orange County PD. I guess I should go ahead and call Susan. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of. Just...well, thank you. Susan is my patient but I also consider her a friend and I really like her. I hate that this setback happened but it's just unfortunately not that uncommon with this disease. And it IS a disease. Just try and keep that in mind. Please."