Quest for Justice - Part 13

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After a great lunch where Sylvie refused yet again to sample Grits and instead, settled for a Pork Sandwich with all the trimmings. I had the chicken version of the same Sandwich while Jared settled on some Meat Loaf that, to be honest, looked and smelt fantastic.

“Ready for a drive?” he asked when we returned to the new SUV.

“How long this time?” asked Sylvie with a sense of weariness in her voice.

“Southwest to somewhere not that far from Scranton. Far enough away from DC to be invisible as possible yet close enough to get Tiffany back in time for the Grand Jury when the call comes.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said.


‘Near Scranton’ turned out to be a couple of miles to the North West of a small place called Mill City. We stopped to buy groceries on our way through the Scranton area. Our SUV was just about invisible amongst all the others with PA plates. So much for the farmer from upstate NY!

Our destination was a house at the end of another dirt road. I estimated that we were a good mile from the nearest bit of hardtop. The house itself, looked very much like all the others we'd passed in the local area. There were five bedrooms and four baths in total. It was clear from the outset that Jared had used this place before. He was totally in command as he briefed us about the security systems and an impressive array of sensors that were positioned all around the property.

"If we do get any visitors, then we may need to repel boarders."

He opened the gun locker that was inside a cupboard in the hallway.

“There is enough firepower in there to fight a small war,” I remarked.

“True, but I hope that it does not come to that. We invest a lot of tax dollars into our network of safe houses. Our accountants really don’t like it when the security of one is breached. We’ve had one go like that already this year.”

I got the message loud and clear.

Jared showed us around the house and made sure that we understood the security measures, especially in the five bedrooms. On the ground floor, there was an extensive library, as well as a couple of computers.

“If you want to use them, please ask. I’ll connect you via a VPN so anyone tracking the connection will think that you are somewhere like Carson City or Baton Rouge. Naturally, you must do nothing to reveal our location.”

“I’m not that into computers,” I said.
"I know enough to know that there is a lot I don't know, so I’ll pass on them. Beyond using Google, Facebook and looking at websites and some social media, the rest is an almost no-go zone for me. I do know how to upload files to a thing called DropBox, but only because someone set up an account for me last year. To be honest I think that this social media thing is a waste of time and space. I used Dropbox to upload the dirt on my father and Facebook to link it to the world.”

“Good for you,” said Jared.
“Most young people your age, are glued to their phones and social media. Can't see the point myself, but what do I know eh?"

We all had a good laugh at that.

"Right, who is going to volunteer to cook tonight? We'll take one night each. There is a freezer in the utility room which should have been restocked last week."

“I’ll do it,” I said.


Jared got a call on his Sat-Phone four days later. He’d explained that it was next to impossible to hack and track the location of the receiver. He said that it was something about the footprint of the satellite on the earth's surface. That went right over my head, but it seemed plausible.

"Well ladies, tomorrow is it. We need to leave here around 05:00. The Grand Jury is scheduled to start at 11:00. We'll need to be there by 10:00 so that you can be briefed or something like that.”

The news that we'd all been waiting for, but had to some extent been dreading was here at last.
“Nervous?” asked Sylvie.

“Not too bad at the moment.”

“But you are thinking that it will get worse?”

I nodded.
“I have read a bit about what goes in inside a Grand Jury and the best I can describe it as a trial without the other side there to give you hell and make you wish that you hadn’t been born.”

“That’s not a bad analogy,” said Jared.
“I shall have to remember that.”


The atmosphere in the house was relatively subdued for the rest of the day. We all turned in early and set our alarms for 04:15.

The next thing I knew was being shaken awake to find a hand over my mouth.
“Don’t struggle Tiff.”

The voice belonged to Sylvie, but it was little more than a whisper.
I relaxed ,and she removed her hand.

“We have visitors. A couple of the perimeter alarms went off about ten minutes ago. Jared woke me, and he's in the basement looking at the CCTV. Get dressed and pack your things.”

"Ok," I whispered back.

“Take this torch but use it sparingly. Jared says not to switch on the lights. We don’t want to alert them to the fact that we are onto them.”

“Ok.”

We'd discussed what everyone should do if this event happened, so it was not as if I was being asked to do something strange. I didn't have many things, and I'd gotten used to travelling light very early on in my travels. That had not changed much since.

I stuffed the few things I had into a small backpack. Everything including my pocketbook, just about fitted. Because of our planned early start, I’d done most of the packing the previous night.

I looked at the clock that sat on the bedside cabinet. It read 02:50. I cancelled the alarm before putting on my shoes, coat and backpack. Then I went in search of the others.

I could hear voices coming from the basement, so I carefully went downstairs. This was where Jared's control center was located. He was talking into a microphone in hushed tones. Sylvie was looking at the bank of CCTV screens. On one of them, a man in military clothing and with what I assumed to be some sort of night vision device over his head. He was crouching. I had no idea if he was a friend or a foe.

His jaw was moving signifying that he was talking to someone.

“Is that one of them?” I asked Sylvie.

“No. That is one of Jared’s team.”

Her use of the word ‘team’ surprised me. Until then, I had thought that we were here on our own.

Jared finished speaking and came over to where Sylvie and I were standing.

“There are at least six of them. From the way that they are deploying it is clear that they are all ex-military. I have three guys working their way to outflank them. I have called in re-enforcements but they can’t be here for over an hour.”

He let that sink in.

“Here is our plan of action.”

His command voice was back.

“Sylvie, you are to stick to Tiffany like glue. I understand that you can shoot a gun, Tiffany?”

“I can but I’m not exactly up to date with my practice.”

“That does not matter. There are some vests in the closet of there. Put one on and get yourself armed. Not a revolver but something like a Glock or a Sig. Take a couple of extra magazines with you for good measure. Then, lie low by the back door."

“Sylvie, please go and get the SUV keys from the worktop in the kitchen and be prepared to make a run for it. I’m going to assist my team from here. If I shout ‘Go-Go-Go’, go and don’t look back. The Satnav is programmed for an alternative route to DC. Take it. My people know about the route and will be on the lookout for you. They won’t make themselves known unless it is an emergency. The end of the route is where you will be met and taken into the city. I have already sent out a message for them to be ready for you.”

Once again, he let that sink in.

“Do you understand the plan?”

“I do,” I muttered still bewildered by what was going on.

“I’ll make sure that Tiffany makes the Grand Jury appointment, Sir!” said Sylvie.

“One last thing. A US Marshall by the name of Gwen Thomas will be the person meeting you just outside DC. She will have clothes and makeup for you both. We need you to look your best when you go in front of the Grand Jury. She will also make sure that you get into the city unscathed.”

“I understand. I did wonder about that,” I replied.

He gave Sylvie an earwig.
“Listen in on what is going on. If things go south then make your own decision about what to do. Don’t wait for me.”

“Understood Sir!”

“Good now get going and I’ll see you both in DC.”

I debated saying goodbye but thought better of it as it might be considered bad luck.


For the next hour, we crouched behind the wall near the kitchen door. I tried hard but could not make out any of the noises coming from inside and outside the house.

Suddenly, Sylvie stood up.
“Time for us to go.”

She opened the door and in a crouching run, she headed for the SUV. The noises a modern vehicle makes when doors open and everything seemed like an open invitation for someone to start firing at us but as if by magic, we made it out of the property and down the track without bursts of gunfire from all directions hitting the SUV.

When we reached the road, there were two SUVs parked half in a ditch. I could see from the light cast by the headlights of our SUV that they had at least two flat tires. I assumed that these were the vehicles that the bad guys had arrived in.

Sylvie drove the SUV pretty fast but not recklessly. She stuck religiously to the route in the SATNV. Twenty-five minutes later, we were going through the streets of Scranton itself. I wondered what would happen if we were stopped by a local cop. What would they make of two women wearing bulletproof vests and armed to the teeth? Sylvie would be ok thanks to her FBI credentials but I’d probably be heading to jail and have no time to collect my $200. I certainly didn’t have a permit to carry a gun.

Luckily for us, they didn’t and soon we were heading south on I-81. The traffic was very light but there was no time to relax. The Grand Jury would not wait for me. The last thing I wanted was for them to issue a subpoena…

Sylvie kept the speed down to just below the limit as we followed the Interstate out of Pennsylvania, through Maryland, West Virginia, and into Virginia where she turned left onto Route 7 which according to the signs was going to take us to DC.

A couple of miles later and there we came to a small side road. Sylvie checked the mirrors and grunted. I took that as ‘there is no one following us’. She turned off the highway and carried on for a hundred yards before coming to a halt.

“Time for us to get rid of this stuff,” she said referring to the vests and guns.
“The DC cops don’t take kindly to heavy weaponry coming into their city even if I am a Fed.”

It made sense so we got out of the SUV and took the vests off. She put them in the rear of the SUV before turning her attention to the guns.

“Can you empty them including anything in the chamber?”

“Sure, but why?”

“I have my FBI weapon but with these, I have no idea of their provenance so we are going to dismantle them and put them under the spare wheel in the truck and toss the ammo clips into the next river. That way no cop can use intent against us should we be stopped. As far as I know, there is no 'due cause' for them to search the vehicle but you never can tell. Cops can be nasty SOBs if they have a mind to be, and two women travelling alone in the early morning… well you know as well as I do the risks.”

I did as Sylvie requested and as a final act, I wiped them clean of prints before wrapping them in a clean towel that had somehow made its way into my backpack. She stowed them still wrapped in the towel next to the spare wheel. The trunk lid came down with a satisfying thus but I could not help wonder if we hadn’t gotten rid of them far too soon.

A few miles down the highway, we stopped once again and tossed the bullets into a river. I repeated that a few miles farther on by the now-empty ammo clips.


As we neared Dulles airport, the route shown on the Satnav ended. I had assumed that it would take us right into DC but… orders are orders and Jared was most clear on that front back at the now not so safe house.

“Where are we going when we reach the airport industrial park?”

"I guess that we will be met by this US Marshal person that he mentioned. That’s why Jared was so insistent that we follow the route,” said Sylvie.
“Knowing him, I expect that we are being watch and have been since we left Scranton. He is that sort of person. Thorough does not even begin to describe him.”

It was then that I realized that neither of us had said anything much since we'd left the house. It was not as if there was nothing to say but we both had other things on our minds. The old 'Bee Gee's song 'Stayin Alive' was never far from my mind, after all, it was what I'd been doing for more than five years.

The route ended at an anonymous industrial park a few miles from the Airport itself. Next door was a Car Rental depot. It all looked so calm. I wondered if there was a storm brewing for me before I got to testify. So far, we had been luck since leaving the not so save house.

Sylvie came to a stop outside a property that was encircled by tall metal fencing that looked rather ominous. As Sylvie brought the car to a stop in front of them, the gates began to open.

“I guess we have arrived. It appears that we are expected?” said Sylvie as she drove into the compound.

Some lights on the outside of the building came on as a large roller door in the front opened up. Sylvie drove us inside and stopped. I guessed that the lights were motion activated as it was daylight.

The door closed behind us and that was it. She switched the engine off as the internal lights came on and let out a huge sigh of relief.
I had to hope that it wasn’t a case of ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’.

A woman appeared from inside an office to our right. She didn’t appear to be armed so Sylvie rolled down the window.

The woman smiled at us.
“Welcome. I’m Gwen Thomas. We have been expecting you,” she said as she showed us her US Marshall’s badge and ID.

For the first time in hours, I relaxed… a bit.


Gwen took us inside the office and poured us both a cup of coffee.

"Jared sends his regards. He and his people arrested six people at the property. They will be charged in due course with a variety of offences including illegal possession of explosives, namely some military-grade C4 and some banned weaponry as in an RPG. No one was hurt other than the pride of the offenders.”

Sylvie and I both breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“The word from on high is that your testimony to the Grand Jury must be allowed to proceed as normal," said Gwen.
"I guess that some powerful people are not going to be very happy as a result."

She held up her hand.
“Don’t tell me anything about the case or the people. I don’t want to be accused of witness tampering.”

“I get you. What you don’t know, you can’t tell on?”

“Something like that. My job is to get you to the DOJ building unscathed. This is what we are going to do. If I fail then Jared will not be happy and as he is also CO to this unit, when he is not a happy man, we get shitty assignments.”
I looked a Sylvie who was grinning. She knew only too well how her former CO worked. I wondered if Gwen Thomas was performing a role that she’d performed in the past.

For the next ten minutes, she outlined how we were going to get transferred to the DOJ in one piece and in a condition to go into the Grand Jury. It seemed like this was a well-oiled machine that was swinging into action.

“Any questions?” asked Gwen.

“You seem to have covered all the bases,” said Sylvie.
I nodded my agreement even if I hadn’t understood everything that she’d talked about. A lot of it was done in military jargon. It was clear that was ex-military like Sylvie. It was very clear to me that these people operated on a totally different level to normal cops or even the standard FBI agent. Sylvie seemed right at home with these people.

“Good. Now, I expect that you could do with freshening up and a change of clothes. I have everything ready for you. Then we can go into the city.”

My stomach gave a rumble.

“One of my people will bring us something to eat when we are in the DOJ building. This facility only has a coffee maker I’m afraid.”


Our transport into the city was a panel van that looked like a normal Fed EX vehicle. Inside was a different matter. It was more like a mobile control center than anything. Some cameras were positioned to give an all-around view of the truck on the monitors. Two people were monitoring the screens while Sylvie and I sat in the back.

I couldn't settle very well. She noticed this and took my hand and smiled. It was good having her with me but I knew that very soon, I'd be on my own in front of the Grand Jury and exposing everything about my life to a bunch of strangers.


[10:55 DOJ Building, Washington DC]

“Are you ready to go?” asked the DOJ lawyer, Lane Webster.

“As ready as I was ten minutes ago,” I replied feeling slightly irritated with him already.
“Will you be asking me the questions?”

He shook his head.
“As far as I know, the DC US Attorney herself is doing the honors today. She only does the very important cases.”

His words told me one thing but his body language said the opposite. He didn’t like her one little bit. I wondered if there was some professional jealously involved?

Just then, a court officer came to us.
“They are ready for you Ma’am.”
That was it. No calling of my name out loud. Everything was very low key just as I liked it.

[Four and a half hours later]

“How was it?” asked Sylvie.

“Tough. The US Attorney was very, very thorough and exceedingly well prepared. And, she let me speak and didn’t interrupt me.”

"That is the idea, isn't it. You know to get to the bottom of the issues," said Sylvie.

“I suppose so. It was just not like all those courtroom dramas that you see on TV.”

“I’m sure that a lot of it is for effect…”

I shook my head.
“I’ve seen Attorney’s try to grandstand a court even on a speeding case. The TV influence I suppose. I’m just glad that is over and done with.”

I stood there with my eyes closed. I needed some sleep but one of the questions had me worried.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sylvie.

“One of the topics that the US Attorney spent some time on was to do with the crimes my father committed to being elected and how he'd spread his sphere of influence outside the state."
“So?” said Sylvie.
“If there is one thing that I have come to know about you Tiffany is that you are mentally prepared for just about anything when it comes to questioning.”

“This was something else entirely. He asked me how I obtained the recordings of my father doing dirty deals to fix the election of the Secretary of State in a next-door state.”

“Oh! The going out for some groceries while he did his dirty deed?”
“Yeah. He pressed me on why I left the phone that mom gave me recording while I went and spent a Jackson on some food.”

“What’s wrong with that? Your mom was as I have come to know, a wise woman.”
“It all seemed so cold and calculating. One of the jurors sent that question to the Attorney for me to answer.”
“Your mom knew that you had a good brain on your head. She was there doing her business with him knowing that every time he made a phone call after the fact, it was going to be one more nail in his coffin.”
“I guess so,” I replied trying to sound convincing.

There was a silence between us. I decided to try to move the conversation on a bit.

“Now what happens? I guess I’ll have to hang around here or wherever the trial is going to be? That could be months away?”

Sylvie smiled at me.
"The indictments need to be handed down first. Then arrests are made and then… a trial is scheduled. As he is already in custody, the process will be a little different but from a legal point of view, it will be the same.”

“Yes, that as well. Months if not years knowing my father and his skanky lawyers."

Sylvie reached over and squeezed my hand. She held it and said,
“While you were in with the Grand Jury, I received an update from the Marshalls Service. I phoned my section head in Phoenix who confirmed the message. My temporary secondment to them has been extended until after the trial. I’m afraid that you are stuck with me for the foreseeable future… Jared dropped by and said ‘hello’.”

“Was he here?”

“He was briefly. He came by just to make sure that everything was ok. He’s writing a report on the incident at the safe house for the Marshals Service and the DOJ. One of the bad guys who came to the house has been singing like a canary. He hinted that a couple of people in the FBI Field Office here in DC are going to wish that they hadn’t gone over to the dark side.”

I smiled at her. I’d grown to like this woman. Probably a lot more than I should have but that is life, isn’t it?

“We discussed a safe place for us in the interim… as in until the trial whenever that is. I suggested my uncle’s fishing cabin in Maine. The border with Canada is just a couple of miles away across the sound. There is a boat ready and waiting should we need it. That would do us until the first snow hit at least.”

“And? Are we heading up there? If so, when?” I asked feeling totally out of the loop on this.

Sylvie saw my unease.
“In answer to your questions, I hope so. It is my backyard and until April or May, any strangers will stand out like a sore thumb. When? I don’t know. That is in the purview of others I’m afraid.”

She grinned.
“I know that you love gallivanting around the country but sometimes you just have to stay put at least for a while."

She was right as always.

“When will we know?”

“I hope… I hope that we at least get somewhere to stay tonight. I don’t know about you but I could do with a decent meal that has been cooked by a professional, a bottle of wine and a large, no make that a very large bed. How does that sound?”

“Nice, very nice but nigh on impossible given past experiences.”

“Don’t get too downhearted. Things will get better I promise. A wise man once said, ‘Justice comes to those that deserve it’. You deserve justice to honor your mother.”

After the last 24 hours, I had to hope so.
So far, I had trusted Sylvie and lately, Jared implicitly and they’d not let me down. In the past, I would have run a mile before trusting anyone but…? I wondered if I was growing up?

[to be continued]

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Comments

Growing up . . . .

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Conventional wisdom is that only children trust people, whilst grown-ups have learned “better.” But I think Tiff has it right. No-one is an island. The real grown-ups get that.

Nice chapter, Sam!

Emma

The Other Shoe

joannebarbarella's picture

Still has to drop.

Finally the grand jury testimony

It was quite the journey, kind of makes me happier to be a more invisible person. Great story.

>>> Kay

Among the Power Brokers

BarbieLee's picture

Can he buy the grand jury? Who in his influence owes him past dues will help shut down any investigations into what he has done? I've read where murderers go scot-free as the judge shut down any real testimony. Some people, friends i knew, a jury convicted an oil company of destroying their farm with radioactive waste. The judge nulled the case. He left in a brand new multi million dollar motor home.

Tiffany isn't testifying against her father but against a broken system that has been bought. She is right to not trust anyone besides those who prove they can be. After all her father is part of that same kind of system. I've seen and experienced first hand that corrupt legal system. When one is the bottom of the food chain, there is a lot goes on most society doesn't know and doesn't want to know. At the top of the food chain, there are those who want to keep it that way. It preserves their way of life.
Hugs Sam, you are touching a lot of sore spots with this one.
Barb
Even God had problems with a corrupt system. Remember Satan the fallen angel? Don't try and find what it was all about on the net. They have smoothed things over. Isaiah 5:20

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

I must say

We all are westerners but the US are very different from Central Europe. Arms are so rare here that in my 52 years here I never have seen a gun... except on the police forces. I really cannot personally relate to this ubiquitous presence of guns and underlying violence in your society. Though it’s interesting for me from afar.

Guns Can't Protect nor Kill Anyone

BarbieLee's picture

People use tools such as a hoe, socket wrenches, hammers, knives, axe, etc. None of those things will clean a garden of weeks, rebuild a car, raise a home, or carve dinner. Someone has to use them or misuse them. As long as there have been sheep the shepherds carried a weapon, a staff. A needle is a tool for many things. Some long enough to be called a weapon, not the same as the one's used to sew a dress.

Think if Jared, Sylvia and Tiffany walked out of the house waving cellphones the confrontation would have ended?
.Hugs maxkm70
Barb

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

testimony done

but if I remember right, she has to stay alive until the trial or the defense could demand her testimony be removed.

DogSig.png

One thing is for sure,

Wendy Jean's picture

The swamp will be a lot less toxic after they are done. And a lot fewer moles.

Trust...

RachelMnM's picture

She wants too, but experience tells her to be cautious. Loving this story and the character development. Bravo!

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...