Only Time

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 13 - Relentless (continued)

"And who can say if your love grows

As your heart chose?

Only time."

----Enya, 'Only Time'

*WHUMP!* *KERRRASHH!!*

"AAAUGH!"

TCPD Officers rushed to the door. They opened it to find their Police Commander on top of a man lying on his belly, struggling to affix handcuffs to the man, who was white with a full head of black hair, medium height and build, but very fit and agile.

"Get him cuffed!" I yelled out as they tried to pick him up. "Cuff his ankles, too!" The man viciously kicked as Officers attempted to subdue him, until I slammed my closed fist into the side of his head.

"This guy is good with martial arts." I said as the Officers subdued him. "His ankles are not to be uncuffed until he's in County Jail, is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" came a chorus. Finally satisfied, I got up off the man, but not before pulling his shirt down so that his mouth couldn't access any cyanide pills. I had someone give me some medical tape on the table, and I used it to tape the perp's mouth shut. I also pointed out a .22 WMR auto pistol on the floor, and Lt. Rudistan put on latex gloves and bagged it into evidence.

"What happened here, sir?" asked Rudistan as he cleared the weapon and put the cartridges, magazine, and firearm into the evidence bag.

"An attempt to murder my wife, Lieutenant." I said. "How are Johnson and Laurer?"

"Unconscious, sir." said Rudistan. "It looks like they were drugged."

"All right, get them to medical attention." I said. "And get guards around my wife's new room down the hall. Treat this place like it's the convict wing----"

"Sir!" said an Officer down the main hall. "Federal Agents are rushing to the front door from outside!"

"Get this bastard on a gurney." I said. Let's get him to the roof!"

"The roof, sir?" asked Patrol Officer McElwane. "We're not turning him over to the Feds?"

"Hell no, Patrolman!" I said. "Rudistan, educate this Patrol Officer!" It suddenly grew quiet in the hallway. Everyone there knew I'd just ended that Patrol Officer's career with those words. No, no physical harm to him would come, but he'd never be promoted.

A gurney was quickly found and the prisoner put on it. He was fighting us all the way, trying to roll off. I finally stepped up and smashed my fist into the side of his head again, and he finally stopped resisting.

We got the elevator before the Feds could, and we boarded it for the roof.

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

"What the fuck is

that?

" yelled ATF SAC Curtis Halsey as the TCPD Bell 206 helicopter roared overhead and came in for a landing on the helipad on the roof. The University Hospital's Life Flight chopper had been relocated to the football field at University Memorial Stadium after the terrorist attack.

"Police chopper, sir." someone said.

"Shoot it down!" Halsey yelled. He drew his own weapon and was about to fire it, but his hands were grabbed.

"What are you DOING?" yelled FBI ASAC Karina White as she grabbed his arms. "You're shooting at the Hospital!"

"You BITCH!" yelled Halsey, shoving her back then aiming his weapon back at the roof. "I'm shooting that chopper down!"

"You're going to shoot at the

Hospital?!

" White yelled back. "Are you

nuts?

"

Halsey redirected his weapon, pointing it at Karina White's head. "You fucking bitch!" He clicked off the safety, and was about to shoot her when ATF Special Agent Karl Coleman, who was Lindsey Black's partner, stepped between them.

"Curtis, don't do it!" Coleman said. "She's right... you might hit the Hospital, or someone in it."

Halsey glared furiously at his subordinate, but re-engaged the safety and holstered his weapon. "Whatever. You guys get up to the roof and arrest the pilot. And place this treasonous bitch under arrest!"

No one moved.

"Did you hear what I said?" Halsey yelled. "Arrest this bitch! Ah hell, never mind." He pulled out his weapon again, clicked off the safety, and again raised it to shoot Karina White.

"HALSEY!" a voice yelled. Everyone turned to see FBI Special Agent Julius Jefferson coming up, his weapon aimed at Halsey's head. With him was FBI Special Agent Tim Jenkins, also ready to shoot.

"Drop your weapon, Halsey." Jefferson said. "Or I swear to God I'll blow you away right now."

"I order you to drop your weapon." replied Halsey. "I'm placing this bitch under arrest."

"The man said to drop your weapon." Jenkins said to Halsey. "He's not going to tell you again. You are aiming that gun at a Federal Agent, one of our FBI colleagues, and we

will

shoot you to protect her.

Halsey raised his hands and stepped away from White, but the gun still in his right hand. "All right, all right." he said, then moved to holster his weapon.

"I DID NOT SAY HOLSTER YOUR WEAPON! I SAID DROP IT ON THE GROUND!" Jefferson yelled, his gun aimed squarely at Halsey's arrogant face. "You're the one that's under arrest! Get on the ground! Now!"

"You gotta be kidding..." Halsey said, then saw that Karina White had drawn her weapon and was pointing it at Halsey from the side.

"Get down, or I will shoot you." Karina said.

"You'll pay for this, bitch." Halsey snarled. "I'm going to haul your ass up on charges, and your dirty career will be over! You hear me? OVAH!"

"Get on the ground, or you won't be alive to see it happen." said White. Seeing Jefferson advance, Halsey slowly went to his knees. Jefferson came up and violently pushed Halsey on down to the ground, then disarmed him and cuffed his hands behind his back. Everyone watched in stunned silence as Jefferson and Jenkins half-walked, half-dragged Halsey to a waiting FBI vehicle.

Then they all looked up as the TCPD chopper took off from the roof, headed to County Jail...

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

The altercation outside had given us the chance we needed to load the perp onto the helicopter. Lt. Commander Teresa Croyle was flying the chopper. Patrolman Hicks flew with me in the back, both of us pretty much sitting on the perp, who just had not figured out that resistance was futile.

As we flew northwest, directly over Town, Teresa radioed County Airport to notify them that we were flying to County Airport. The Tower acknowledged us, and I heard them have an incoming aircraft circle around to give us time to get there. What interested me was the call sign of that plane... it was an Army aircraft.

When we got to County Jail and landed on the helipad in the backyard, Officers and Deputies came out to take him in. I instructed them that this particular prisoner was proficient in the martial arts, extremely dangerous, and should not be unhandcuffed nor unshackled at all.

As usual, somebody didn't listen. In trying to undress the man, a Deputy unshackled his right leg. The man immediately delivered a powerful kick to the Deputy, sending him flying back. The man then spun out of the grasp of the others, and began running to the back door from which we'd entered.

*SWOOSH!*

I swung my red crowbar like a baseball bat, and caught the guy right in the knees. He went down, howling in pain. I landed on him, sitting on his back as four Deputies worked hard to get him in shackles again.

"Wow." said Teresa as we watched the Deputies work to undress the man and then put him in an orange jumpsuit, the standard attire of guests of my County Jail. "It took the Police Boxing Matches Champion to take him down... twice."

"Yes, he is very well trained." I said. "And I suspect he's amped up on something." Deputies took blood and cheek swab tests once the prisoner was re-attired and properly subdued. Examination of his clothing would find several cyanide capsules; this guy had been on a suicide mission.

"Sir," said another Deputy, coming up to us. "I just got a call from Police Headquarters. Two FBI Agents brought in an ATF Agent, for attempted murder of an FBI Agent."

"Did they say the name of the guy who was arrested?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said the Deputy. "His name is 'Halsey', sir."

Teresa and I just looked at each other, and she said "The party never stops in our Town & County, sir..."

Part 14 - One Fine Mess

The reports were coming in quickly, as the TCPD's Third Shift was eager to show what they could do. And they excelled. I was in the 1st Precinct Conference Room adjoining County Jail.

"Hospital camera shows an orderly in scrubs bringing Johnson and Laurer coffee." said Rudistan. "They drank it, and fell asleep shortly after. Blood tests confirm sedatives in their bloodstreams."

"Remind me to put out a new policy about accepting food or beverages like that." I said.

"Yes sir." said Rudistan. "The pistol the perp used is pretty common, but stands out as being the model the U.S. Military had a contract to buy. The data gurus are seeing if they can trace the serial number to any particular shipment of weapons, and see where this one came from." I nodded.

Myron Milton knocked on the door. I had Rudistan stay as Myron gave his report: "Sir, your new friend in County Jail is named Jack Logan, 28 years old. He was a Navy SEAL in Afghanistan, but disappeared in-country. The reason he disappeared is because he worked on a joint mission with the CIA, and the Company kept him. But he went AWOL two years ago. He was not disavowed, which would lead aspiring Detectives to believe he went deep undercover somewhere. This is the first time his name has come up since he went missing."

"Myron," I asked, "do you consider that information legit, or was it just a little bit too easy to find?"

"It was not easy, sir." said Myron, which made Rudistan grin jovially. "What did seem easy to find were some write-ups of him while he was in the SEALs. Twice written up for making offensive comments with regard to race and to Judaism. Especially Judaism."

"Shall I go tell him he got his ass whipped by an ethnically Jewish man, sir?" asked Rudistan jovially, as he knew that my mother's mother's mother had escaped the Nazis with little more that four ancient Roman coins.

"We'll tell him at the right time." I said. "But as a Navy SEAL, he's well trained. Best you train hard for the Police Boxing Matches, Mr. Rudistan." Rudistan agreed most jovially. "So Myron, what was his discipline for the EEO violations?"

"None, sir." said Myron. "Nothing more than the write-ups, which were counseling statements. No court-martial, no Captain's Masts." I nodded, then had an insight.

"Who was his immediate Commanding Officer?" I asked.

"A Lieutenant Jeff Bayport, sir." said Myron. Yes, the light above my head came on; we'd heard of LT Bayport in the past: he was Trent and Quint's SEAL team leader, as well. (

Author's note: 'Iscariot', Ch. 01.

)

"Now

that

is interesting." I said. I called Precinct Captain Hewitt on my Police iPhone. "Hewitt," I said, "the prisoner we just brought in is named Jack Logan. He is a former Navy SEAL, well-trained in the martial arts and personal combat. I need him put in the isolation ward, perhaps in the cell at the far end..."

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

The door to the isolation cell opened and I walked in unarmed, not even with my red crowbar. Jack Logan was sitting on the bed, his manacled hands

in front of him.

And sure enough, he leaped up and launched himself at me, trying to use his hands to get to my neck.

I parried the attack easily enough, but he turned, grabbed the end of the bed, and tried to launch a vicious two-leg kick at me. I easily sidestepped that, and hurled him along so that he landed on the bed.

"You might as well stop your shit, Logan." I said. "I'm better at personal combat than you are."

"We'll see about that." Logan grunted. He hurled himself at me again. This time I let him display a shoulder joint, and then I drove him down hard into the concrete floor. His body wilted, out of steam.

"I whipped your buddy Trent Ridge's ass twice, and he wasn't even handcuffed like you are." I said as I physically picked him up off the ground and hurled him onto the mattress. "So you can either keep attacking me, and just get beat up more and more... or you can talk to me."

"I ain't talking to you." Logan snarled. "I want a lawyer."

"Ah, there we go. A bit more civilized of you." I said. "So I'm asking no questions, just telling you the facts. You are in a world of shit. Attempted murder of a doctor, who just happens to be my wife. You're not going to be turned over to Federal custody; we are not letting the CIA get you out of this one. So... whenever your lawyer gets here, you should consider telling him you want a deal. Or it can get... ugly."

I backed my way up to the door, which opened for me. Once out, I said to the guards "Make sure you have TASER sticks when you go in there. If he fights you, let him have it."

"Yes sir." said the Deputy, himself a seasoned veteran of the 82d Airborne Division in overseas combat...

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

4:30am, Thursday, October 17th. I drove to Police Headquarters with Lt. Commander Teresa Croyle riding shotgun. Once there I was surprised (not surprised) to see Chief Sean Moynahan was there, and in his office. I was even less surprised to be called into his office, along with Teresa.

"Mr. Crowbarrrr," he said, meaning it jovially, "there is this thing we're supposed to be doing at this hour. It's called 'sleep'."

"The perps didn't get the memo, Chief." I said. "And I'd rather keep my wife alive. This attack on the Hospital just got a wholllllle lot bigger."

"In-deeeeed." said Chief Moynahan. "We have an ATF Special Agent in Charge in our holding cells, accused by FBI Agents of attempted mur-drrrrrrrr. We now have a very dangerous criminal in our County Jail, accused by you, and rightly so, of attempted murder. And all this within 20 hours of a terrorist attack on our Hosssss-pitllllll. This is one fine mess we have found ourselves dealing with. So, what's our plan?"

"The Feds will likely come for both men we arrested, Chief." I said. "We should make it as difficult as possible for them to get Halsey. But we should make it absolutely impossible for them to take Logan away from us."

"Why is that, Mr. Crowbarrr?" asked the Chief.

"When Quint Starr made that raid on BOW Enterprises and took Todd hostage," I said, "the Press, most specifically Bettina, said that she had sources saying the group was the 'American Jihadi Front'. I was then told yesterday that the group that may have been the American Jihadi Front was suspected of the Hospital bombing. Furthermore, Logan was a Navy SEAL, and his Commanding Officer was Lieutenant Jeff Bayport... who was an Officer in Trent Ridge and Quint Starr's SEAL unit that had some... issues."

"Do you think you can break him?" asked the Chief. "Get him to tell us where Trent Ridge is? And find out more about the others?"

"No sir, I don't think we'll break him." I said. "But that's not my goal, either. They'll have EAD Isley try to get custody of him first, and we'll have to fight that very hard. It's who tries to get him out next that I want to see."

Teresa nodded. "Is that person or persons going to be the ones responsible for Todd's torture... and Lieutenant Irwin's death?"

"Maybe." I replied. "But there are so many Swamp Frogs working against us right now that it's hard to say how connected they are. Trent and Quint's SEAL team disbanded... or more accurately, they were reassigned... and they went in a lot of different directions. It might not be their team this time, but another SEAL team that this Lieutenant Jeff Bayport was associated with. Bayport may be the key, but for now what we have is Logan. And I want to know who their puppetmaster is...

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

"We've been watching him. He hasn't moved." said Captain Hugh Hewitt as we stood together in the anteroom to Interrogation-1, watching ATF SAC Curtis Halsey. I knew others were also watching from the Monitor Room. Hewitt continued: "He's just sitting there. Hasn't gone for any secret buttons on his clothing anywhere."

"Has he lawyered up?" I asked. "Taken the Fifth?"

"No sir." said Hewitt. "He said to me 'I'm not talking to you'. I didn't know if that was enough to be invoking, so I stopped talking to him and left him to sit there."

"All right." I said. "I'm going in... alone. Watch from here." I opened the door and went into I-1.

"Oh, Jesus Christ." Halsey muttered when he saw me. "You again."

"No, I'm not Jesus Christ, not by a longshot." I said. I sat down opposite Halsey, who was not restrained in any way. "I am far, far less forgiving than He is. So why were you trying to shoot at my helicopter... and worse, at the Hospital itself?"

"I didn't shoot at anything." muttered Halsey.

"I didn't say you did." I replied. "I said you were

trying

to. You were stopped just in time, from shooting at the Hospital, and from shooting an FBI Agent."

"I was attempting to arrest her." said Halsey. "And I'm still going to. Whatever it takes to get her ass fired. And you'll never prove attempted murder."

"Oh, I dunno..." I said. "Chambering a round, clicking off the safety, pointing the gun at her head... lots of people saw it. I'm willing to let a Jury decide if that's attempted murder or not."

"You won't be trying me, not in this pathetic jurisdiction." Halsey said haughtily. "The BATFE, or someone in the Intelligence Community, will have me out of here in no time."

"So why haven't they arrived yet?" I asked. Seeing the fleeting look of shock on Halsey's face, I said "A lot of people saw the incident. We're not keeping your arrest a secret. Yet no one has come for you yet... especially Dr. Isley. Feeling a little... abandoned... right now?"

"I haven't even made my phone call yet." sneered Halsey.

"You should consider making it." I said as I stood up. "You should call the very best lawyer you can afford. I'm glad my potential freedom doesn't rest upon the lack of action of

your

fellow Agents and superiors."

"You should be looking to your own life, and your wife's." Halsey said, and instantly realized from the look on my face that it was a mistake.

"Are you threatening my wife?" I said, my voice low and menacing, as I leaned over the table.

"Not me." said Halsey. "The Cartel is, though. And you were offered protection, but didn't take it. And now how many people are dead because of you, Mr. Big Hero?"

I stood back up, my eyes eyes boring into Halsey's. "Are you going to stick to that story? That it was the Cartel?"

"If it's not them, who is it, Mr. Big Shot?" Halsey sneered, goading me.

"I'll see you at your arraignment." I said. And with that, I left the Interrogation Room.

Part 15 - Feds vs. Feds

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the redheaded MILF reporterette at 7:00am, Thursday, October 17th, with University Hospital in the background. "We are bringing you continuing coverage of the terrorist attack upon University Hospital!"

Bettina began: "The truck-bomb attack claimed the lives of twelve persons, including the two truck drivers, two nurses, a patient and her husband, and six infant children. Sixty other persons were treated for injuries of varying severity. Dr. Laura Fredricson, who was delivering a baby when the truck crashed into the building, was rushed into surgery for internal injuries, but is expected to recover. Her OBGYN nurse Connie Chung was also injured as she cradled the newborn baby, but is expected to recover, as well. The baby was unharmed, but is now orphaned and will be cared for by relatives."