Man Of God Ch 01

This story is part of an ongoing series.

The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography, which is currently not updating. Stories after Music Box Dancer are:

Return To Apple Grove, Media Matters, Swamp Frogs, Man of God.

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 1 - Prologue

(

Author's note: This story overlaps the previous story, 'Swamp Frogs'.

)

Friday, July 13th. Yes, Friday the Thirteenth. I was meeting with my Angels at 8:15am.

"I'm hearing of some complaints about having to wear full armor in the heat of summer." said Teresa Croyle. "The Precinct leadership is asking for 'clarification' on when they can just wear under-shirt armor, or no armor if not facing a tense situation."

I nodded. "Put out the word that the elevated threat level still exists." I said. "Have the Precincts do what they can to modify the patrols on a rotating basis, so that Officers will be inside more and in their cars with the A.C. on. But keep the armor on, and maintain a higher sense of alert. Okay, what else?"

"I'm going to take an early lunch." said Teresa. "I need to go to the bank to deposit some money from BOW Enterprises into one of the charity funds Todd supports."

"That should be no problem." I said. "Anything else?"

"Don," said Cindy, "I'm hearing some talk about your declaration of war on the Press. They're wondering where you got your information on them. Some of them are talking about suing you." Just the day before, I'd unloaded some bombshells on the Press. Brian Jennings was now facing a divorce after picture of him fucking female reporters reached his wife. Laura had told Nick Eastwood that his lover Amber Harris was next on the list for exposure if she did not stop delivering 'fake news', i.e. lying, on the air, especially about the Troy family.

"Bring it on." I said, here in the present. "I've already consulted with my attorney. The operative words are 'confidential informant'... and 'Fifth Amendment' if push comes to shove. And of course, I'll just go 'scorched earth' and take them all down with me, if shove comes to crowbar beatdown..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"He even quoted Scripture to them." said Joanne Warner, who was very religious, as the MCD Detectives discussed what had happened between Commander Troy and the Press. "That was awesome."

"I've always had one question about that particular passage in the Bible." said Jerome Davis. "It says that Jesus was writing in the dirt when they came to Him. Now I'm wondering... what exactly was it that He was writing in the dirt?"

"I guess we'll never know." said Theo Washington.

"The Commander quoted from the Gospel of John." said Joanne. "That Book is a bit different than the other Gospel books, if you read them all. It has some strange stuff in it... like Jesus going into the wilderness a lot, little passages like the one where He's writing in the dirt."

"Written by someone would've made a good Detective." said Teddy Parker. "Observant of details."

"But it still didn't say what was written in the dirt." said Theo. "Bad Police report." That got some laughter.

Part 2 - Trickeration

"All right," said FBI Special Agent In Charge Jack Muscone as he sat in my office with me at 9:00am, "so you think the Queenie Files are being used to blackmail someone. I'd guess for murder; just about everything else has a statute of limitations on it."

"I have no idea what's in the files. If I did, that information would quickly become useless." I said. "What I do know is that the files exist, are hidden, and Queenie told people that if she was ever killed to go to Jack Lewis about it."

"Queenie's death was months ago." said Muscone. (

Author's note: 'Agents and Angels' Ch. 03.

) "Surely someone has gone to Lewis by now, and this is all a hopeless wild-goose chase."

"Maybe not." I said. "Katherine Woodburn had her aide Clark tell me about Queenie and the Queenie Files. I seriously doubt she wants Jack Lewis to have that information... before she gets it herself."

"And she's using

you

to find the files." said Muscone. "Smart of her. She bears watching."

"Yezzz..." I said thoughtfully. "And to my point, I have a hard time believing Katherine doesn't know what the information is. So! Let's reset our brains on this. We've been thinking, and naturally so, that because Queenie called them the 'Willis Files', they have to be

about

Mitt Willis... but what if they're not?"

"Whaddya mean?" asked Muscone.

"What if...

the information was collected

by

Mitt Willis instead of being

about

him?

" I asked.

"That... that... makes sense." said Muscone as he thought about it. "Especially if he's afraid you might find out about it, or that it would come out."

"Exactly." I said. "He's using the information to his advantage, but would rather shut it down than let others get the information."

"But Queenie had it, meaning Katherine Woodburn has it." Jack countered, playing Devil's Advocate.

"True." I said. "We've also been making the mistake of thinking of Mitt Willis as a pure Republican. He's going to run against Nunn as an

Establishment

Republican, but the truth is that BigAgraFoods gives generous campaign contributions to both Republicans and Democrats. Remember that the Establishment Republicans and Establishment Democrats are the Left and Right cheeks of the same Ass, working together to crush the Grassroots, the People, and maintain power."

"So who is the big 'O' in the middle between those cheeks?" Muscone asked with what for him was a wicked grin.

I laughed. "We can only guess. Anyway... the question is: would Mittens work with Democrats?" I asked. "To maintain political power for the Elites, and control the proletarian masses?"

"Hell yeah, he would." said Muscone. "And would Willis be behind an attempt to kill the Governor

and

smoke Queenie in the process? Hell yes. So what are you thinking, here?"

"I think Queenie found the information, possibly by digging into Mitt Willis himself." I replied. "She gave it to Katherine Woodburn, who might could use it for herself, and may have. But Willis would have found out that Queenie knew, and not knowing she hid the information, he had her killed."

"I have one objection to that." said Muscone. "Woodburn is very angry and upset over her staffer's murder... to the point she gave information to

you

to help find Queenie's killer or killers. If she thought Willis was the murderer, she'd have told you that, and would've sic'ed the SBI and FBI on Willis. And she's tough enough to fight back against any assassination attempts by him upon her."

"And that's a good objection." I said. "My only counter to it is that Katherine wanted to preserve the potency of the blackmail information. Hmmm... wonder if she'd try to blackmail Willis, too... no, she has little to gain from that..."

I came out of my reverie to see Jack looking at emails. I said "Anyway, it occurs to me that the only way we'll be able to find whatever Queenie hid, is to get Jack Lewis to tell us."

"Somehow, I don't think he's just going to willingly do that." said Muscone. "Especially not to you personally."

"No, not to me." I said. "But maybe he'll tell two of his trusted lieutenants... the man of God, the Reverend Steven Ikea... and

disgraced

SBI Agent Richard Ferrell."

"Ferrell." muttered Muscone, his beady black eyes becoming jet. "How in the fucking hell is that man not in prison for life?"

"Technicalities." I said. "Someone with clout managed to get Ferrell whisked out of our State. From there, his lawyers worked hard, amazingly hard for lawyers, to raise technicalities with the case, especially regarding his paralyzed condition when he was captured. Judge Harry Nance moved with equally amazing speed to dismiss the charges against him, especially the ones assaulting Tanya and my mother."

Muscone shook his head. "And I guess you won't let me help you find him and Ikea to implement this plan of yours."

"Not yet." I said. "I kind of need him alive right now. But when the time comes, I'll leave his proper punishment to you."

"So... how are you going to spring this trap?" asked Muscone.

"I fully expect that the man of God, Steven Ikea, would rush to Jack Lewis if he were to find out about this." I said.

"I don't think he'll take your phone call, nor your mother's, any time soon." Jack reminded me. "So how will you get the information to him?"

"By going through a name I can trust... in a manner of speaking." I said.

Part 3 - Two-Eleven in Progress

The building was one of the oldest in Town, diagonally across from the southeast corner of Courthouse Square on College Avenue. It was three stories tall, composed of brick. It had been the Town & County Bank until the Great Depression, and then became the E.F. Goldman Bank. Now that banker's grandson, J.P. Goldman, owned it, and continued to run it with the same high quality of service that his grandfather had insisted upon.

It was also a bit busy. At 11:00am, as Teresa Croyle waited in line, she turned to see who had come up behind her.

"Oh, hello Father Romano." she said, looking up at the tall priest.

"How are you, Captain Croyle." the Police Department's Catholic Chaplain said, his voice connoting benign fatherly friendliness. He was wearing the standard black robe of a priest over a black long sleeve shirt of thin fabric with a white clerical collar, black pants, and standard black Police Officer shoes. He also wore a rosary at his belt. His TCPD Badge was inside his pocket.

"Please, call me Teresa." Teresa said. "You're a Captain, too, ya know."

"You're very kind." said Father Romano. "How have you been doing? Especially since your Christmas ordeal?" Father Romano had visited Teresa at the Hospital several times while she had been recovering from her wounds after the Ward Harvester explosion. Teresa thought he was a good man, and he'd been a great source of peace and comfort to young Amy as the girl spent her last month dying in a hospital bed. But Teresa had never been one for religion.

"I'm fine." said Teresa. "I may have run my last July 4th Triathlon, though. I had a hard time with the swim, and I've still got nerve issues---"

She stopped as she noticed the two young men burst into the front door of the Bank. She was going for her gun, but it was too late.

"Everyone get your hands up!" shouted the first man as he ran up to Father Romano and put the business end of a powerful handgun into the priest's ear. "Get 'em up, now! Or the Padre gets it!"

The other young man came around the other side of the island counter table, his gun pointed at Teresa. "Take that out slowly, or he'll kill the priest. Slowly!"

Giving up her gun was the worst thing she could do, Teresa thought, but in this case the perps had really gotten the drop on them. She said "All right. Relax." She slowly removed her gun from its holster with her fingertips, then put it on the island counter.

"Back away." said the second gunman. He then went over and took Teresa's gun, tucking it into his belt.

"All right, everyone get on the floor!" shouted the first perp, still holding Father Romano hostage. Everyone got down. "You tellers behind the counter, get out here! Now!" The tellers all came around the side, through the sets of secured doors that led behind the counter. They were forced to lie on the ground, also.

The perps did not know that one of the tellers had pressed a button under the counter when the situation was unfolding. The button let the Police know that a robbery and hostage situation was occurring.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"All units, 2-11 Sierra with hostages, in progress at J.P. Goldman Bank on the Square. Be advised 11-58. Do not approach." A '211-S' was a robbery alert with silent alarm, and 11-58 meant that Police radio might be being monitored (and was, as Teresa's radio had been confiscated as well as her gun).

Police very efficiently set up blockades of all roads leading up to the bank, diverting traffic. They also went and got pedestrians, moving them away from Courthouse Square.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Okay, Detective Geiger," I said at 11:00am as he, Vice Lieutenant Mary Milton, and I sat in my office. "I want you to begin investigating something for me, a sidebar issue from the normal Vice stuff you do. This needs to be kept in confidence, also."

"Yes sir." said Geiger. He and Teresa were the last of the 'old guard' Detectives from Malone's day, and Geiger had been Ikea's dingleberry while Ikea had been besmirching the honor of the TCPD. Geiger was surprised he was being asked to do this assignment.

"We are looking for some information called the 'Queenie Files', also called the 'Willis Files'." I said. I filled him and Mary in on the details, then said "Lieutenant Milton here can help with the data analysis while you touch base with contacts. Let Lieutenant Milton or me know what you find... and speak of this

only

to Lieutenant Milton or to me directly."

After some questions, I dismissed them. As I turned back to paperwork, the Desk Duty Sergeant came in. "Sir, bank robbery with hostages at J.P. Goldman Bank. We can't find Captain Croyle to tell her, and she did not respond to Police radio or phone calls, sir."

"Ohhhh,

shit!

" I gasped out. "She was going to go to the bank! She may be in there. Sergeant, get Lieutenant Hewitt to the Main Conference Room immediately. I'll get the Chief..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Why does your god-damn phone keep ringing?" the younger and more loose-cannon of the perps yelled at Teresa.

"Dude, relax." said the more level-headed perp, who was keeping Father Romano at gunpoint. "Padre, sit down here, back against the counter." he said, meaning the island counter. "You, too, cop. Either of you makes a sudden move, and people get killed. Got it?"

"First, bitch," said the second thug, "take off that armor under your shirt. NOW!" Teresa did not move to comply.

"You heard him." said the first perp. "Or I'll shoot this fucking priest right in front of you."

"All right, all right." said Teresa. "Leave him alone." She unbuttoned her shirt and unstrapped her vest. She had a t-shirt on under the vest, to the disappointment of the thugs.

"You look pretty good." said the second, crazy perp. "Maybe I oughta take you in the back room and get a piece of ass." Teresa looked darkly at him, preparing to defend herself.

"Dude, we don't have time for that shit." said the first perp. He then said "Sit down next to the padre, bitch." Teresa did so. The second perp was putting Teresa's armor on his own body, over his shirt.

"All right, maybe I'll take this bitch back there." the crazy young perp said, grabbing one of the female tellers by the arm. She began screaming and crying.

"Leave her alone!" Teresa yelled, springing to her feet. Two handguns were trained upon her.

"Don't fucking move!" yelled the first perp. "Sit back down! Now!" Teresa complied, glaring at the second perp. The first perp turned to the second, Teresa having long since observed that they were brothers. "Listen dumb-shit, we do not have time to be fucking around trying to fuck the hostages. Now go back there and start filling the bag with fucking money."

As the second perp went to the back area, the keys of the tellers in his possession, Teresa's phone buzzed.

"Answer it, bitch." said the perp. "Then hand it to me."

Teresa answered. "Hello Commander." she said, seeing who was calling. "Someone wants to talk to you." She handed the phone to the perp.

"Who is this?" demanded the perp.

"This is Police Commander Don Troy of the TCPD." I said into my phone. "Who are you?"

"Who I am doesn't matter." said the perp. "What matters is that I've got a priest, your Police Officer, and twelve other people hostage right now. I want the owner of this bank to come down here and put at least $50,000 from the safe into bags. Then get someone to land a chopper on the Square, and give us safe passage to take us, two hostages, and the money to it. Then the pilot can fly us somewhere safe. We'll let the chopper fly the hostages back once we're away."

"Tell you what." I said. "I'll come in there and be your hostage, and you let all the others go."

"No deal." said the perp. "I know who you are, Iron Crowbar. You're too good, too sneaky. I think this priest and your Officer are better hostages than you would be. Now get that chopper and the bank owner here. Or else." He hung up, but not before Teresa had noticed that the words 'Iron Crowbar' had put some hope into the eyes of the other hostages.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Well, so much for that." I said as the Chief and I watched the bank from near my Police SUV, which was in the copse of trees just south of the Courthouse complex, and just northeast of the Bank.

"At least we know she's in there." said Chief Moynahan. "And Father Romano, as well. His badge's RFID is pinging on Myron's drone feed, as is hers."

"And part of our problem," I said, "is that the owner of the bank, J.P. Goldman... is also inside there." Indeed, he was one of the hostages, and the perps did not yet realize it.

"The FBI is here, if you need our help." said Jack Muscone as he came up to us. "In fact, as a bank robbery, this is a Federal case... but I'll defer to you until we get the hostage situation settled."

"I

told

you Agent Muscone was a smart man, Mr. Crowbarrrr." the Chief said.

"And we can use all the help we can get on this." I said. "Jack, it's likely they'll go for the State Line if we let them go."

"I'll get assets in place." said Muscone as he took out his cell phone.

Part 4 - Revelations

1:00pm, Friday, July 13th. Detective Timothy Geiger made a phone call on his personal cellphone as he sat at his desk, eating his lunch from Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburgers.

"Yeah, look." he said. "They're having me look into something called the 'Willis Files'. Supposedly Katherine Woodburn's staffer, the one they called 'Queenie', found some stuff on someone, and said that if she were murdered to go to Jack Lewis about these files. I figured you can ask Mr. Lewis about them, see what's up."

"I'll do that." said the voice at the other end of the line. "May the Lord's blessings be upon you." The line disconnected.

"Interesting." said the SBI Chaplain Steven Ikea to SBI Lieutenant Leon Mills. "One of my sources just gave me information that might concern Mr. Lewis."

"Might be a trap." said Mills. "The Iron Crowbar is a dirty dealer."

"I guess we'll find out." said Ikea.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My Police iPhone rang. It was Teresa's number.

"Where is the owner of the bank?" snarled the perp at the other end of the line.

"We haven't found him yet." I said. "We're making calls."

"Is the chopper ready?" asked the perp.

"It will be." I said. "In the meantime, why don't you let the women and children leave?"

"We'll talk about that when the time comes." said the perp. "Now listen: no tricks, and don't be stalling. Get the owner, and get the chopper." The line went dead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I saw the drone flying in from over Courthouse Square. "Shit." I muttered. "Press drone. Can I shoot it down?... just kidding, Chief." The Chief was gaping at me for the suggestion.