Monday morning, after some serious swimming, I was finishing dressing when my cell phone rang. It was John. "You're going to have to go to St. Louis for a Bureau station change then head up to Chicago for a Homeland Security union arbitration meeting. You'll need support, so advise Wanda. You'll probably be gone two nights, so plan on three. I know you just started your flight training, but this can't be helped. I have to be elsewhere. You know, out of this world and such. I'm sending you files that will get you up to date. Let Wanda put it all together for you."
"While you're in Chicago, I think they could use you on one of their pickups. They think it's going to be nasty, so if you don't mind, lead the thing, and make it happen so our people get out alright. Be careful, don't rush or be cocky."
Thank goodness I could talk to Wanda before she had time to leave for the office. I advised her of what we were going to be doing and said, "I have to call to cancel my flight training for a couple of days, so I'll ask for a charter. I guess we should try to take a commercial airline, but we'll probably need to work in-flight. Let me get us a ride."
I called the air charter service and talked to the attendant on duty at the time. They said they would get something ready for me. The phone rang about five minutes later. It was John, my flight instructor. He asked, "How fast do you have to be in St. Louis?"
"Today, it doesn't have to be instantaneous. I need to be there no later than, say two, so I can do what I need to do. I'm going to Chicago for at least a day, perhaps two, and then coming home."
John the instructor said, "Do you mind taking a long time to fly home? We're a little light on fast planes right now, but we do have an executive type plane for you."
"That'll be fine. As long as my administrator can work on the plane, we're fine with whatever we can get. I'm sure it's faster than waiting for connections."
"Come on out. Since I don't have a student, I'm the designated charter jockey. I think you'll like my idea."
Wanda and I packed and drove to the air park and parked over by the charter office. John came out of the office and walked me back to a wildly painted Cessna 206. He said, "You're going to fly us to St. Louis. You're going to have a long lesson today and get checked out in another plane. We'll stop in at several small airports on the way for some practice landings and takeoffs, plus this plane was used by one of the executives for S&S. He had to have phone and internet service, so the plane is ready for you. Get your lady seated and I'll get your luggage over here then we'll begin our preflight inspection."
I thought this was neat. I would get my in-flight training while handling some job functions. This would take care of exactly what I was worried about.
The flight up to St. Louis was interesting, as we did land and takeoff at five small airports on the way. This plane was heavier, much heavier, than the 152 and John described my first landing as pretty heavy, as well. By the third time setting it down, I was finding the runway more gently with the two main gear, before dropping the nose. Landing in St. Louis was different as we went into the main airport, a really big airport. I landed, but John had to do all the talking as we had to enter a long final approach and John had me watch some instruments to keep the plane on a steadily lowering line on a glide slope display. It wasn't difficult, just different, being told what to do instead of watching and feeling what to do.
Wanda said the computer on the plane worked great and she had all of the station transfer paperwork prepared for us when we landed in St. Louis. She had also pulled the Chicago file so I would be prepared for the arbitration meeting.
We were able to meet up with a Bureau driver to take us to the station. The change went smoothly with the old chief retiring, and the new station chief eager to prove himself in his first station.
About three, we were back out at the airport going over the preflight inspection checklist. John had the plane fueled while I was working, so we were ready to leave quickly. It took me longer to find the right taxiway than it did to wait in line to take off. Once again, John did all the talking and I just worried about the plane. I was going to have to learn everything he was saying, but right now I was more concerned about doing all the individual things to get us off the ground.
At Chicago, we landed at an executive airport on the west side of the city, away from the intense air traffic of the big airports. Wanda had a printed out e-mail from our office. Angie had booked John at a hotel close to the airport, and had booked us near the Homeland Security station where the arbitration was going to be held. The three of us ate together before we parted. I promised to call John if we were going to be able to get out tomorrow. He told us not to worry as he would do some sightseeing.
That night, I studied the arbitration file, wondering who in the world allowed government security people to join a union. The bitch was about a supervisor working a shift because a man had not shown up. The union felt one of the other men should have been called in to work overtime, so they wanted everyone on that shift to receive overtime reimbursement, whether they were scheduled or not.
Wanda said, "Would you let me sleep with you tonight, even though I have my period?"
"Of course, Wanda. We fool around because we want to. There is never a time when the only reason we are together is so I can get off. I enjoy being snuggled up with you too."
Our individual doors were barely closed before Wanda came through the door between the rooms, wearing a nice gown. Sometimes a woman can be even sexier wearing a silky gown than being nude. I called home to see how Bobby's day was. She talked to me, asked to talk to Wanda, then said goodnight to me.
When we were in bed with the lights out, Wanda said, "This is nice. I like being with you and this is just a little more intimate than before, since we're not anticipating sex. We're enjoying each other's physical company. This is special."
Tuesday morning was rushed, even after having been up at six, central time. The hotel restaurant was so slow we didn't get to finish our breakfast. We walked into the big Homeland Security office for the eight o'clock meeting at seven forty-five.
The main Homeland Security station chief and assistant station chief, three union representatives, their attorney, and the arbitration judge greeted us. At eight, I asked if we were going to begin and was informed we were waiting for the union member who had filed the grievance. At eight fifteen, I asked if anyone had attempted to contact this person so we could see what was keeping him.
The one union man said, "Hold your horses, the man will be here. He isn't terribly late."
At eight thirty I asked the arbitration judge. "I'm sure you're used to being stood up by someone who has filed a grievance. I am not. Since we are to pay this man for his time today and he was scheduled to be here at eight, I am putting the man on report for not showing up and not even giving us the courtesy of calling. Next, from the reports filed by all concerned, the now delinquent man didn't call on the day in question, either. I'm filing a retroactive report for that occurrence as well. One more incident of any form will be his third strike and he will be gone. This is not a threat, our national security depends on this man, and he is not responding to our or his country's needs."
The union guys were huddled with the attorney, while the arbitration judge was grinning. They tried to present a few reasons why we couldn't put the man on report, but ended up having to agree the man was scheduled to be present, just as he had been scheduled to be at work the day the arbitration was for.
I asked the chief and assistant, "Is it difficult finding personnel to fill these positions?"
The chief said, "Not at all. We have at least two dozen people waiting for call up. They are people that already have security clearances."
I looked at the union people and asked, "Tell me, do you want to go out and get some cards for a good poker game while we are waiting for your man, or would you prefer to reschedule this for in the morning. That way we can strike this guy out and you can get a good union member."
"But, but, but what about the arbitration amount because the supervisor worked the shift?"
"According to the file, the supervisor called the four men that were off that day, but were on the volunteer overtime list. Since it was a Sunday, you are asking for double time for everyone. If none of the four men available would come in, and he had flights and responsibilities to cover, I think the supervisor did an admirable job in keeping traffic flowing. Until you can convince your men to come in when scheduled, and to assist when called for overtime, it is the management's job to complete the assigned task. Unfortunately, the only person available to perform the task was not a union member."
After pausing for maximum effect, "I propose to the arbiter that this grievance hearing be suspended, and the grievance be denied as not being justified."
The man holding the power looked at his watch, "It's now nine oh five. I would think that being over an hour late would be considered delinquent. I agree with management on this one, and this grievance is hereby negated. Please turn in your reports so this man can be escorted out of the building on the next infraction. Good day, gentlemen."
The attorney said to me, "You know, you can't do this sort of thing up here. This is Chicago; we control Chicago and what goes on here. You should go back to Florida and pick cotton or whatever you do down there."
The three union guys were all trying to act tough, standing and attempting to intimidate us. All were overweight porkers that spent too much time showing off in bars. I was smiling at them, relaxed, showing that this was a total non-confrontational environment.
The four men left the conference room and appeared to head toward the interior of the building. I asked, "Do those men have security clearances? None of them have anything displayed."
The Station Chief and the assistant said, "Oh no, not me, they may not be cleared, but I'm not doing that to the union execs."
"I will. I'm bound by duty to protect federal premises. Come on, Deputy," I said to Wanda, "there are intruders on our premises."
Wanda was laughing as she followed me out into the offices, where we spotted the four talking to a group of men and women. I approached them and asked, "Would all of you show your security badges?"
I pulled my deputy marshal badge and showed it to them. The employees all knew that the Marshal's Service did security checks all the time, so they were all pointing to their badges hanging from lanyards around their neck.
The four union men looked at me as if I had two heads.
"Who's senior man here?"
A nicely dressed man said, "I am. I am the shift manager. I'm the senior union member here."
"Good, would you place these four under arrest, and call the Marshal's Service to pick them up for arraignment. You are all armed, I see. Make sure none of these intruders are armed. Please have all secure information covered while they are on the floor."
I looked at Wanda and said, "Let's check to make sure there are no other security breaches in this general area."
The lead union man began bitching, "We have the right to be in a place of employment of our members. You have no authority."
I looked at the senior man, "Please advise this man as to where he is and as to his rights. If you wish to recuse yourself from the responsibility, Ms. Johnson and I can handle it."
The man turned to the union people and said, "My job is important to me and you are in a secure area. You are not cleared, and you do not have permission to be here. If you had asked, it would have been possible for you to be escorted throughout the building, but each area would have to be scrubbed and covered before your entry. We didn't have an opportunity to do that here, so according to the rules, you must be treated as hostile, and possibly spies."
One of the union men said to us, with a very nasty tone, "You better hope you're out of town by the time my men come looking for you. I won't forget this."
I smiled and said to Wanda, "That man is threatening me, should you shoot him?"
Wanda had her purse on her shoulder and reached in and had her hand pulling just the handle of her Glock from her purse. "Should I shoot him or am I supposed to warn him first?"
"I think we're supposed to ask them to give up first, warn them, and then shoot them anyway."
I could see the attorney attempting to distance himself from the trio of men trying to be big shots.
Four deputy marshals showed up and came to us. "What's up here? I understand there is a security breach."
I pointed to the four men, "These men entered this area without requesting permission, disregarding the requirement for clearance. Please transport them to the lock up for processing."
Two marshals pulled their sidearms and two began cuffing the four. When they began shaking them down, two had shoulder holsters. The attorney was about to pass out from fear. I'm sure he was thinking disbarment over this stupid act.
As Wanda and I accompanied the deputies and the prisoners back toward the lobby and elevator, one of the elevator doors opened and an obviously drunk guy got off, waving some kind of handgun.
"Where the fuck is the fucking meeting? I'm just going to cap me a fucking boss instead of fucking with all this grievance shit." As we approached, I could see the man's glassy eyes and total lack of cognizance that we were approaching.
I reached up and grabbed the man's hand with the gun and brought it behind him and then kicked his feet from under him. When he fell, my knee was in his back to knock the wind from him. The gun went skittering across the tile floor and I reached up with my hand to have a set of cuffs handed to me. When the guy was cuffed, I asked the cuffed union officials, "Is this the man you were trying to protect today? You were really doing your union a favor, weren't you? A person waving a gun around in a building where almost everyone is armed is not smart. I think this is this man's third strike. Since he'll get at least ten years, perhaps you can find him a job somewhere else when he gets out."
I told the deputies, "Call for some help. This one on the floor needs the full process. These other four might get off with a warning, depending on the judge. I have to be at your station later today. I'll file the incident reports then."
One of the men said, "I saw your fake leg when you were kneeling. Are you Chuck Johnson?"
"That's me."
"And you didn't shoot anyone? Even this guy who had a gun?"
"He was too drunk to know where he was and these other guys are all wusses. I'm sorry to disappoint you guys, but I don't shoot everybody."
The four men laughed, but the four prisoners just looked confused.
"Get em out of here for me, I've had it with these guys today."
As they were being herded onto the elevator, I heard them trying to tell the union guys about what they had heard about me in the past.
We went back into the conference room to get our briefcases and papers. The Homeland Security Station Chief and assistant were still sitting there. The chief asked, "So what happened?"
I pointed at the bank of monitors that were now all on and said, "If you were not watching, look at the tapes."
After thinking a minute, I said, "I want you men to know that I am disappointed in both of you for not protecting the security of your workplace. You cannot be intimidated by anyone that does not have a security clearance for this location. I'll have to have the Marshal's Service give you daily checks and test all of you. Straighten up, act like you're leaders."
Wanda and I left, heading downstairs. There were deputies still milling around in the lobby, so I asked, "Think we could get a ride to the station?"
The man that had identified me said, "Right this way, Chuck, I'll have you there in five minutes."
The station was close and the door to door service was even better. The building also housed the Bureau, DEA, and ATF stations. The offices were all bigger than those in Tampa. Of course, this was the main station in Chicago, the second largest city in the country.
As soon as I walked in the door, the Station Chief was out of his office to greet me. His deputies had warned him I was on my way. We accepted his offer of coffee, and even took a couple of very fresh, almost warm, donuts.
In his office, he asked, "Are you really willing to go out with the men on this pickup? D.C. guys don't do stuff like that."
"I'm not a D.C. guy," I said, defensively. "If you're referring to John, did you ever ask him? He would fly out here anytime to help you if you needed him."
The Chief said, "I just didn't think the service would put a man in your position in harm's way. You're too valuable."
With a frown, I said, "I am no more valuable than any man in your command, in your office. Everyone in the service is a deputy, ready to defend and protect government property, personnel, and most importantly, the citizenry."
The man just sat there thinking about what I said. I'm sure he felt admonished.
"Okay," I said, trying to get back on track. "Who's the team leader for the show tomorrow, and could I talk to him and discuss his plan. I've only briefly looked at this file, but John asked me to help lead this. While I do that, could you provide my Office Manager some office space so she can catch up on what we're missing today?"
Wanda soon had a desk, and the seasoned team leader was introduced to me. His name was Larry Wilson. We went into the tactical room to look over a display of pictures. "This is the place where the escapees are right now. We've had the place under surveillance for two weeks and have found that all three are all armed and are accompanied by local gang members. We have snipers planted in key places that should give us several kills, if necessary, when we initiate the capture."
After looking at the photos, I asked, "What kind of weapons do the subjects have?"
"A lot of handguns, and we know that they have at least six AKs. The local Bratva traded them for a couple of the gang's street girls. The Bureau is planning an action on the Bratva house about the same time as our raid. So far, there is no indication that word of our raid has leaked. Let me show you how we plan to attack."
He went through each of the steps he was planning to gain entry into the building. All were risky and had the men exposed to fire from inside.
"How about gaining access from this third floor porch? There are no windows in a straight line up the side of the house. A grapple could be thrown over the rail and men could congregate up there and as they worked their way downstairs, we could be prepared to capture the ones who run out the front and back doors."
"That's a good idea, but we have a problem as the houses on each side are connected by a tunnel in the basement. We will need to be ready to capture people at the ends of both tunnels. The outer two houses are not well guarded, so we anticipate capturing those easily. The center house is where the confrontation will be."
We sat and looked at the photos and the building plans for a few minutes.
"Okay," I said thinking of another way. "Let's go with the men entering on the third floor. At the exact moment of the third floor attack, I want flash bangs thrown through every window on the first two floors. I'm sure we can get enough men to get that job done. The tunnels will be covered, so we'll catch anyone staggering through there trying to get out. We'll catch the men leaving by the front and back doors. The men coming from the third floor will clear the third, the attic, go to the second floor, and push everyone to the first floor where the outside contingent should have gotten inside by then."
"Aren't you afraid of injuring one of the suspects with that many flash bangs?"
"No, the escapees and gang members aren't afraid to harm others, so we're just neutralizing them. We must protect our men first. Our mission is to capture the escapees with as little bloodshed as possible. Let's try it this way and hope it doesn't get to be a shootout."
"I'm with you," Larry said. "We're planning on five thirty tomorrow morning. We'll meet here at four, brief, and be in place at five ten to five fifteen. This should give us the maximum element of surprise."
"Sounds good. Have some men practice throwing grappling hooks to a third floor or higher area. They have to get the hook over the rail on the first throw. The men who will go up will have to hand over hand all the way up. Make sure everyone on that entry team is up to it."
"We'll begin practice drills right away."
"And, Larry, last of all," I said, thinking of the proper way to prep. "Bed check at six. I want food here for the men when they get here in the morning. If you have to hire a caterer, do it, but feed them during briefing."
"Six is kind of early isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. I want them in their quarters by six so they can relax and have time to think about all the ways they can get hurt tomorrow. If they think the danger through, there will be fewer mistakes."
"It will be the way you want, Sir."
"Excellent. I'm going to the hotel, exercise, get a good supper, and go to bed. See you here before four tomorrow."
The taxi driver knew of a good Indian restaurant less than a block from our hotel, so we went there and enjoyed some curried chicken and some unique vegetables. After walking to the hotel, we stopped into the lounge for a nightcap, enjoying a piano player that was playing melodic ballads.
Upstairs, we decided to forgo the exercise session, prepared for bed, called Bobby and spoke for only a few minutes, and we were both sound asleep in minutes.
Primary editing by Pepere
Proofing by Sagacious