This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
***
Part 8 - Into Darkness (continued)
"Mr. Geiger," said Edward Blassingame, "my organizations have long recruited and hired Police Officers whose talents have not been properly recognized. We think you are one such Officer, and that you have the potential to do very well with us."
"Thank you, Mr. Blassingame." said Geiger. "I'm ready to help."
"Good." said Blassingame. "Sit down." Only then did Geiger see that a chair had appeared against the wall behind him, next to the door. As Blassingame sat down in the chair behind the desk, Jerry exited, pulling the door shut behind him. Geiger sat down.
"Yes, Boss McGinty was one of my better recruits." said Blassingame. "I knew he was playing his own game, getting dirt on people, mostly to protect himself. And I had no problem with it. I never asked where he kept his Materials, because I knew if and when I needed something, I'd ask him for it and he'd deliver it to me. For a price, but he'd deliver it."
Geiger nodded dumbly, not knowing what to say, and Blassingame continued: "And then came the fly in the ointment: McGinty was killed. The Police and the DEA were the tools used by 'powerful interests' to eliminate him. The Iron Crowbar was getting too close to him. The only reason the Iron Crowbar did not get a bullet in his own back that night, was because they expected him, Troy, to find the Materials. But apparently he never did... so he says."
Geiger peered at Blassingame. "You... you think he found them?"
Blassingame shrugged his shoulders. "He doesn't seem to be looking very hard for them."
Geiger said "Sir, Commander Troy is a sneaky man. He'll seem to be not doing anything about something, then you blink and he's busting some perp. If he seems to be uninterested in McGinty's stuff... that's when he's probably looking for it."
Blassingame smiled thinly. "And
that
is the kind of information that you can bring to the table that makes you a huge asset to my team. Problem is, you're not going to be with the TCPD much longer, no matter what. They're looking for a way to kick you to the kerb."
"Yes sir, I know." said Geiger.
"Okay, then." said Blassingame. "Here's the deal: you'll go back in one last time. You'll be given some instructions that will allow you to create a backdoor into the TCPD's systems, so you can still access their information, even after you're gone. Start removing any personal effects you want to keep from there. And then the real game starts, and the real money starts flowing."
"Yes sir." said Geiger.
They got up and came out into the outer room. There were several men with lanterns. Jerry was talking to a man with a droopy mustache that reminded Geiger of that SBI Agent Ferrell. Geiger recognized him:
he was Dick Granger
.
"Okay, gentlemen," said Blassingame as the men gathered in a circle. "We have a new member of the team. He did good work for Harold Malone, and he's now going to be doing good work right under the Iron Crowbar's nose." They nodded, and Blassingame then said: "Okay, you can all go. Jerry, escort Tim here back out. Dick, you're with me." The men scattered. Jerry took Geiger back to the door in which he entered the building.
"He likes you, Friend, I can tell." said Jerry. "Okay, keep your eyes peeled on the way back to your car. We'll be in touch soon." They shook hands and Geiger peered out the door, seeing no one, then left.
Meanwhile, Dick Granger was telling Edward Blassingame "Nothing on his car. Just his cellphone inside it. He's clean; they're not watching him."
"They soon will be." said Blassingame. "Tell our TCPD mole that we need to know if and when Orosco of Internal Affairs brings in Geiger for an... interview. Then we'll know..."
Part 9 - Just Got Real
"Uhhhh..." Lester Holder groaned as he came to. He looked around, seeing only dark walls. Some moonlight filtered in from a row of windows very high up, near the ceiling. "Where am I?" He called out for his cameraman, but there was no response.
Then the door to the small room burst open, and several black men in suits and ties burst in. They were wearing what looked like sunglasses. They grabbed Holder and forced him to sit in a small chair they'd brought in.
"What is this?" Holder imperiously asked. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Shit just got real, Nigga." said a voice. "Shit just got real." And then through the door came the man behind the voice: superstar rapper T-Square.
"What the hell you doing, Brother?" Holder asked sharply, trying not to show the fear welling up inside him. "What do you want with me?"
"Oh, I think you know... 'brother'." said T-Square, his voice a hissing whisper. "You been going around, calling my niece a halfbreed, calling my sister all kinds of shit. How long did you think you were going to get away with that before I caught up to you?"
"I was sayin' that about that Cracker Troy's kid." said Holder. "I'm doing it for the brothers and sisters that the Cracker cops are keepin' down, man!"
"Yeah right." said T-Square. "You can stop the bullshit rhetoric; it don't play here. And you ain't helpin' nobody with that kind of hate speech. Even Jasmine Nix didn't go down
that
road."
"I'm goading Troy." said Holder. "Making him do something, so we can bust his cracker ass down!"
"Harumph." said T-Square. "You really think the Iron Cracker is gonna fall for that shit? And you think you can call my blood kin...
my
niece,
my
sister... names like that, and get away with it?"
"Look, it wasn't meant for you!" said Holder, desperation creeping into his voice. "It was all meant for Troy!"
"Shoulda thought of that before now." said T-Square. "Now shit's gonna get real. Shit's... gonna... get... real..."
As he went for the door, he said to his Regiment, who were now holding black crowbars: "Teach this nigga an
unforgettable
lesson about calling little girls 'unacceptable' things."
He left the room. The Regiment went to work. They showed no mercy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
10:50pm, Wednesday, June 26th. As someone at the podium spoke about the merits of three Police precincts, I noticed Police Lieutenant Micah Rudistan come down the aisle to the front row. He crooked his finger towards Captain Teresa Croyle, who got up and went up the aisle with him. They talked for a few minutes, then Rudistan left and Teresa came back to her seat.
And then a KXTC employee came running down the aisle and up to Bettina. They rushed out of the theater together. And Teresa was staring at me. "Let's take a five minute recess, guys." I said. Joseph Williams and Edward Steele rushed for the bathroom behind the stage. Others rushed out to the hallway bathrooms. Reporters started gathering in clumps, whispering.
Teresa came on stage and up to me. "Rudistan said that Lester Holder was dropped off at the Hospital around 10:30. He was found on MLK Drive, very badly beaten. So bad that he's been taken into surgery. An E.R. nurse called the Police, like she's supposed to. The two guys that brought him in didn't leave, and are being interviewed by Hardy and Drew now."
"Wow." I said. "Okay, keep me informed. If something develops, stand up and wave and I'll come down and talk to you. Oh, one more thing..." After telling Teresa to relay some instructions to the Force, I went back to my chair as Teresa went to hers, and we got started again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We had hoped that people would be talked out by midnight, but apparently they had stamina. But so did we. Even so, Savannah Fineman was about to fall asleep in her chair, and Edna Carter and the Rev. Joseph E. Williams were dozing off, as well. A few of the cub reporters left around midnight, but most of the reporters endured it, and none of the Police Leadership left. And not a single one of the young people in red shirts or their colleagues that were better dressed left. Not one.
At 2:15am, Thursday, June 27th, the last person spoke. I adjourned the hearing. Everyone began filing out. Reporters started calling out questions, but I hand-signaled the Deputies to move the Media smartly up the aisles and out the doors.
"Wow," said Edward R. Steele as we gathered up our stuff. "That was a long night. I don't think a Council meeting has ever gone that long."
"I'm sorry, guys." I said. "I really didn't think they could go that long. But I appreciate you all staying, and I think the worst part of this whole process is now a done deal."
"It could've been a lot worse." said Edna Carter. Most of them took their one minute or less after you started breaking down their arguments."