Report #3270, Transcript Section #13
(Operation SANDMAN)
©1998 Shane Ivey

Keeper:
All right. When last we left our heroes . . .

Keeper:
There was blood all over everyone. You were at two separate hospitals with your two captives.

Keeper:
The one with Rogers & Danforth & Maddux was dead on arrival, and there were a couple of very inquisitive cops watching.

Keeper:
The one with Lundquist and Kelley was wheeled into emergency surgery, still clinging to life.

Lundquist:
I want that one surrounded by security people. Local cops, whatever... I'm calling in the marshalls.

Lundquist:
Local cops can watch him until the feds get here.

Keeper:
Osborne has been on the phone with both of you trying to keep up with everything, while making other calls to get some federal agents (hopefully Friendly) over to watch the suspect.

Rogers:
No one was hurt were they out of our group?

Keeper:
Kelley and Lundquist were battered a little from the car collision, but not badly.

Keeper:
Rogers had a large number of bullets pierce the car around him, but none managed to pierce HIM.

Keeper:
So everyone is mostly fine.

Rogers:
What car was it I want another one just like it for next time

Keeper:
Hmm, which did you take? The new airport rental, or the car you've been driving in before?

Rogers:
don't remember luck roll?

Lundquist:
We got two airport rentals.

Lundquist:
The old one is in long term parking.

Keeper:
Rogers, I don't think you had your own car when the mission started, so it would have been the new rental.

Keeper:
Anyway . . .

Keeper:
Lundquist, you get the local Marshals office on the phone.

Lundquist:
Hey, keeper, I also want to order a SCUD-B with a TEL.

Lundquist:
I'll put it on Visa. :-)

Rogers:
Yeah you can get them through the airports no prob

Keeper:
Daniel C. Byrne is the US Marshal of the Eastern District, New York.

Keeper:
OK--you put in a call to the Guns-n-Ammo phone order system. You can expect your SCUD in 6-8 weeks.

Rogers:
lol

Lundquist:
I'll start going through channels here. I'll see that the John Doe is formally charges with attempted murder, vehicular assault, resisting arrest...

Keeper:
You do so. Are you staying with him?

Lundquist:
Due to the extreme circumstances of this attack, I'll state that I consider him to be a threat/flight risk/whatever and therefore requires constant guard.

Lundquist:
I'll stay right with him as well.

Lundquist:
I won't take any crap from an ER nurse either... I go where he goes. I'll don surgical stuff and stand back out of the way if I have to but I'm not letting him out of my sight.

Keeper:
The doctors look a little dubious that he could be a threat or flight risk at the moment, but "protective custody" also goes a long way.

Keeper:
They don't give you much grief past the initial objections.

Lundquist:
I'll tell them he's also a material witness to related crimes and there is a significant risk that he'll be murdered as well. I'll suggest an organized crime connection.

Keeper:
Kelley speaks to you privately. "This is too visible for me to stay covert," he says. "Let me know when it looks safe for me to go to ground."

Keeper:
Rogers, you have a very curious couple of police officers looking at you and your shot-up car.

Rogers:
I'm sticking with my line that this car is evidence and is not to be touched.

Keeper:
They have gotten a call already from an FBI official in Washington, though, verifying some vague federal investigation.

Lundquist:
"How good is your cover story, Kelly? We might need to talk to you, have you give a statement. Is that out of the question?"

Keeper:
Kelley shrugs. "The more people I talk to, the less freedom I have to operate. If it's necessary to protect compartmentalized security, I'll stay in cover and give statements."

Keeper:
"Otherwise, I'll be more valuable the less people take notes on me."

Lundquist:
"Okay, I'll call Osborne and have him cook up some cover story about you being involved in ongoing undercover work, etc etc. I doubt we'll need you to testify, given the weight of physical evidence here, but a statement from you verifying my story will help smooth things over."

Keeper:
Rogers, the officers still want to know what's going on. "What is this, and FBI bust? Who is this guy?"

Lundquist:
"You should go ahead and disappear now, Kelly."

Lundquist:
"Stay close to the phone, though."

Keeper:
Kelley nods. "I'm gone. Work it out with the judge or something if you need me to testify. 'In-camera' is what they call it for confidential informants, right?"

Rogers:
"I'm Andrew Jones, an agent with the DoJ,"

Lundquist:
"I don't even think we'll need that much... Just enough to get through the intital storm of reaction to this event."

Keeper:
The cop nods to you, Rogers. "Officer Wilbanks. So, what's the story here?"

Rogers:
"The man with me is also an agent of the justice department officer you can see his id if you wish."

Keeper:
Kelley nods again. He heads out the door and passes the arriving cops.

Keeper:
Rogers, Wilbanks goes through the motions of looking at Maddux's and Danforth's ID.

Rogers:
"The story here is very secret, I'd need to speak to my supervisor before I can answer any more questions he should be on his way here now."

Rogers:
"If you like to hang on he will be able to answer your questions and know exactly what we can reveal about this Federal incident"

Keeper:
Lundquist, a crowd of six Deputy US Marshals arrives twenty minutes later. The senior deputy shakes your hand. "Walter Brenneman, Deputy Marshal," he says. More quietly he adds, "An Agent Osborne sent me."

Keeper:
Rogers, the officer grunts and leaves you alone.

Rogers:
Right I keep an eye on the car.

Lundquist:
"Good. Our man is here. He's being charges with a number of felonies including attempted murder. We also suspect his involvement in a criminal organization which we fully expect will attempt to kill him to keep him silent."

Lundquist:
"We need to ensure that he is given round the clock protection. He has to be kept alive so that he can testify."

Keeper:
Brenneman says, "Got it." He talks to the other deputies and they start doing security.

Lundquist:
"Now, I need to get going... Say, I don't suppose one of you brought a change of clothes or anything?"

Keeper:
They chuckle. "Sorry, Hopalong Cassidy. I left my clothes at the office."

Keeper:
Lundquist, what next?

Lundquist:
I'm going to make a quick attempt to scare up some clothes at the hospital. Maybe they have a collection of stuff to give to people who show up with bloodstained clothes after accidents and such?

Keeper:
It's worth a Luck roll.

Lundquist:
Or maybe there's a doctor here about my size/build who keeps an overnight bag handy for those long shifts at the ER?

Lundquist:
(I feel lucky!)

Keeper:
They do have a lost-and-found sort of bank. You manage to scrape up a pair of jeans and a buttoned shirt.

Lundquist:
Now I'm stylin. Or at least not bloodstained.

Keeper:
They don't exactly go with your still-bloodstained shoes, but at least the shoes wipe clean. ;-)

Lundquist:
I'll check on the guard detail one last time, give them my cell phone #, and get a taxicab over to where Rogers is.

Lundquist:
I'll also call the car rental company and have them deliver a new car to that hospital for me.

Keeper:
Lundquist, you got some cheap new clothes. Rogers, you're still at the other hospital with your two companions. None of you are volunteering information other than to say you're with the Dept. of Justice.

Keeper:
While you're waiting you get a call from Osborne. He says that an FBI team will be coming to look at the corpse and to take the vehicle and other evidence.

Rogers:
I'm going to try and find out about the other victim.

Rogers:
(appear concerned)

Rogers:
while osbourne is on the line I have a request

Keeper:
Osborne asks, "What is it?"

Keeper:
Rogers, the one with you is the one who was dead before you got there. He's the corpse the FBI team is supposed to check out.

Rogers:
"I get the feeling that we are going to need a very good pilot, very soon. Do you know of anyone with combat flight time cleared for our needs?"

Keeper:
"A pilot? You mean helicopter support?"

Rogers:
"A helo pilot that is"

Rogers:
"Yeah, had an idea which might work."

Keeper:
"I'll check into it. FBI, CIA, Marshals, and DEA all have helipads in the area. We may not be able to get a Friendly or Agent, though."

McCannon has joined the conversation.

Rogers:
"I'm thinking we could pull someone who work for us in Asia back into the fold as it were."

Rogers:
"After all we can rustle up a helicopter no problem, hell I could rent one."

Keeper:
Osborne says, "I'll see if I can find someone. Meantime, don't do anything questionable, but fade as soon as the FBI team is there."

Rogers:
"Understood."

Keeper:
McCannon, it's Tuesday afternoon, around 2:30 or 3:00, and your friends are suddenly all over the police bands.

Keeper:
Since the Ezekiel shooting, McCannon and Lundquist had a chat with a local thug for a few minutes.

Keeper:
The next morning, this morning, there was a shooting in an apartment building across the street from the Southside AME church.

Keeper:
The victim was a private investigator with the Breckinridge Corporation. He was gunned down with what looked like pistol and submachine gun fire in a stairwell.

Keeper:
He had a .380 pistol drawn but not fired. There were pieces of a camera around him, but the main body and film were missing.

McCannon:
What's the connection?

Keeper:
No connection except proximity to the church... and to what happened just a few minutes ago.

McCannon:
And that was?

Keeper:
There was another shootout, in a factory district west of Harfleur, near Brooklyn, between federal agents and two investigators of the Breckinridge Corporation.

McCannon:
Ah. A private war. Cool.

Keeper:
The rumormill is going full-tilt among the cops. There were only a handful of feds involved, and it sounds like it was spontaneous. An undercover job gone bad, maybe. No law enforcement casualties.

McCannon:
What's the plan?

Keeper:
Lundquist, did you give your real name in the reports?

Lundquist:
Right now we're bringing charges against the survivng Breckenridge guy.

Lundquist:
Yes, I'll use my real name... I assume I don't have a cover identity good enough to stand up to this sort of thing? Statements, testimony, etc...

Keeper:
A team of US Marshals has been dispatched to work security on the surviving suspect. A team of FBI agents is en route to collect evidence on the dead one.

Keeper:
Well, Lundquist, you can establish a cover ID pretty easily, but it would conflict with your earlier appearances in Harfleur.

Keeper:
McCannon, you recognize Brian Lundquist as one of the DOJ people involved in the shootout. You don't recognize the other names.

Keeper:
So, you can contact them if you want. Meanwhile, Lundquist, where are you after changing clothes?

Lundquist:
Taxicab over to Rogers. Call a car rental place and have them deliver a new car to me at that hospital.

Keeper:
Hertz and Alamo are gonna LOVE you if this keeps up. ;-)

McCannon:
I'll call Lundquist's cell-phone.

Lundquist:
"Lundquist."

Keeper:
Rogers, Lunquist gets there before the FBI team. He's on the phone with McCannon when he gets out of the cab.

Rogers:
Right can I bundle Maddux into the cab with his stuff??

McCannon:
"Not to be too forward for a second date, but what ugliness have you guys gotten into this time?"

Rogers:
"Nothing we couldn't handle"

Keeper:
Maddux is bundled into the cab with the weaponry.

Keeper:
Are you sending Danforth, too?

Lundquist:
"We were attacked, and had to fight our way out of it. We've got a suspect in custody."

Rogers:
No

Rogers:
it'd look real suspiscious

Keeper:
Maddux drives off.

McCannon:
"By who?"

Rogers:
"Well they had ID as PI's"

Lundquist:
"They were PI's working for Breckenridge. At least, that's what they're supposed to be. None of them have any ID. It looks like it may be undercover black-ops guys. Which has my attention, to say the least."

Lundquist:
Keeper, did any of them have ID? How was the stairwell victim identified?

Rogers:
"I'm just going to check that ID, a second" (What's it like is it new or old and worn?)

Keeper:
They ID'd the stairwell victim from fingerprints. He was on file from military service. He worked for TBC for the past few years, according to their files.

McCannon:
"You're breing hunted by- Shit!"

Keeper:
The two you snagged in the shootout had the bare minimum of identification: driver's license, concealed weapon permit (NOT for Uzis), private eye license.

McCannon:
"Can you use me?"

Rogers:
"You could start to check out these two and do some digging into who they were."

Keeper:
McCannon, you recognize TBC as a big corporation with a lot of federal and international security contracts.

McCannon:
"This is big."

Lundquist:
"Yeah, definitely. See what you can find out from the local cops. Not just the details of their investigation, see what they're saying, how they're reacting to all this. See if anyone is acting differently."

McCannon:
"Give me the names."

Lundquist:
"It looks like this is big, yeah. We've got to be careful. We're probably in danger."

Keeper:
Joseph C. Stalnaker -- Jack Patterson -- Don Murphree.

Rogers:
"Keep an eye out for people following you, it'd probably be best if we kept meetings to a minimum. Communicate via secure phone."

Keeper:
Murphree is the one who is still alive, clinging to life in surgery at the Lutheran hospital.

McCannon:
"O.K. See you at the safehouse. Bye."

McCannon:
Hang up, and go check the names.

Keeper:
Patterson is the one from the stairwell. Suspects have not been identified. One rumor has it that a neighbor heard someone identify themselves as police before he was shot.

Rogers:
"I'd like Murphree to be really well secured, perhaps we could assign Maddux to the task?"

Lundquist:
"And by the way, McCannon, we were shadowed by a black helicopter. It didn't show up on any radar. So keep an eye out for that, it certainly belongs to our adversaries, and indicates still more spooky capability on their part."

Keeper:
McCannon, the background on the three men is almost identical: each of them has extensive military experience, either special operations or counterintelligence, and each mustered out before retirement and took work for TBC as an investigator.

McCannon:
Have they been confirmed in any operations?

Keeper:
Their background with TBC has been checked over the phone with the Manhattan office, where they work.

McCannon:
O.K. Any information I can dig up on the Corp.?

Keeper:
The manager would not give any information on their current assignment, but he verified that they have been employed there for several years. And he strenuously reaffirmed that company policy absolutely forbids criminal conduct by its employees.

McCannon:
How about involvement by the Corp. in previous criminal activities?

McCannon:
Government affiliations?

Keeper:
You can get tons of information on the Corporation. It's a multinational company. It was founded in 1964 by a former Secret Service agent. It has numerous very lucrative US government security contracts, including, according to rumor, some at classified military facilities, and publicly known contracts at sensitive nuclear power facilities.

Keeper:
It also has international contracts, handling corrections in Australia, for instance.

McCannon:
Can I find anything that indicates their involvement in government (internal) assassinations?

Keeper:
What kind of research are you doing? You learned the above information just talking to cops--a lot of police and former police do security work with TBC.

McCannon:
Well, do I know anyone who has worked for them personally?

Keeper:
Rogers, what are you doing? Are you giving a full written report on the incident?

Rogers:
I'm going to do that if it's what the DoJ supervisor wants me to

Keeper:
Good form requires a report on the incident, yeah. Not filling one out would be WORSE for maintaining cover.

Rogers:
Apart from that I had a converstaion with Mr. Lundquiest about the possibility of getting a warrent and searching TBC

Rogers:
I'll go with the report then.

Keeper:
OK. It takes a while, but you can do one vague enough to leave room for loopholes later.

Keeper:
McCannon, you do know someone who works with TBC. He was a precinct detective you knew. He was busted out in a corruption sweep a few years ago: he had been skimming money off of drug busts, just enough to cost him his career and barely avoid imprisonment.

Keeper:
He eventually got work doing uniformed security for TBC in the city.

McCannon:
Can I drop by his house.

Keeper:
Sure. He lives in an apartment in Brooklyn.

Keeper:
Rogers, what are you doing after you get the report and the FBI people come to take over the evidence?

McCannon:
I'll head over.

Rogers:
Where's McCannon

Keeper:
MC, his place is a dive in one of the seedier areas off of Fulton street. Narrow stairs lead up from an unventilated lobby to his floor.

Rogers:
I think I'd better get a change of Clothes and sort out the accidental damage waivers for the rental cars!

Keeper:
Rogers you have a number for McCannon. A pager number, at least.

Keeper:
MC: Your friend's mailbox does not have his name on it. When you get upstairs, you faintly hear a television from inside his apartment.

Rogers:
I'm going to try and dig up some info on TBC via my CIA connections. Find out if we've used them or if they have any intelligence community links the Agency is aware of. Subtle and unofficial of course checking with friends.

McCannon:
Step to the side of the door, and knock.

Keeper:
Okay. Rogers, you get a good bit of rumormill information: TBC is popular among internet conspiracy-theorists. A lot of people say their investigators do domestic black operations that the CIA cannot conduct without risking exposure.

Keeper:
Your fellow case officers in the Operations Directorate, of course, have never heard that there was any truth to that.

Keeper:
Or to the notion that the CIA does domestic black ops, for that matter.

Keeper:
MC: After a moment you hear your friend's voice. "What?" He sounds gruff.

McCannon:
What's my friend's name?

Keeper:
Ben Frey.

McCannon:
"Ben... You there?"

Keeper:
The voice changes pitch as he moves inside, maybe as he stands up. "Who wants to know?"

McCannon:
"It's McCannon. Remember me?"

Keeper:
"What? Just a minute--" The locks rattle and he pulls the door open a little. He's gained weight, and he looks very scruffy and hung-over. "Hey," he squints, "Mister Headquarters. What are you doin', Joe?"

McCannon:
"Taking a vacation. Can we talk?"

Keeper:
"Vacation?" He chuckles. "Disneyland's that way." He pulls the door open and steps back. "Yeah, come in."

McCannon:
What's his apartment look like?

Keeper:
The apartment is small, a studio with a fold-out bed. His place is bachelor-messy. You don't see any sign of the wife or kids he had before he left the force.

Keeper:
Rogers, you get back to the safehouse eventually after doing the last reports.

McCannon:
"What happened to Shelly?"

Keeper:
"She left," says Ben. "Took off after all that bullshit at the precinct. She's in Jersey again with her mother, her and my kid. All that bullshit. . ."

Keeper:
He gestures toward the refrigerator. "You want a beer?"

McCannon:
"Sorry to hear that." Walk toward the window.

Rogers whispers:
I'll write up a proper report and then secure it.

McCannon:
"Yeah. That's be nice."

Rogers whispers:
DG eyes only not for friendly access.

Keeper:
Ben opens up the refrigerator and passes you a can, then opens one for himself. "I gotta go on duty tonight," he says, "so I gotta get my drinking done early." He smiles slightly.

McCannon:
"Duty, huh? What're you up to these days?"

Keeper:
"Security. I'm a genuine rent-a-cop since all that bullshit. I never got convicted, so they let me carry a piece, on the job. Mostly it's just a warehouse, though."

Rogers whispers:
Were any of the mics missed in the sweep of the Church? Get Danforth to check the tapes and those from L.Lemondes appartment.

Keeper whispers to Rogers:
The bugs you planted at the church were completely taken out.

Keeper whispers to Rogers:
Lemonde's place has not had any action. It sounds like he has steered clear of it.

McCannon:
"Who with?"

Rogers whispers:
Thought that was the case.

Rogers whispers:
Get him on the cops then

Rogers whispers:
righto

Keeper:
"Breckinridge. It's not too bad, you know. There's a lot of cops that work for them, a lot of ex-soldiers too. I mean, it sure as shit ain't the force, but it's all right."

McCannon:
"They're treating you okay, then?"

Keeper:
He shrugs. "Sure. It ain't much money, but they're okay."

McCannon:
"I ask because I've heard that they are into some pretty deep shit."

Keeper:
Ben takes a long drink.

McCannon:
"I gotta friend came on board after you left. Rookie. Young and stupid."

Keeper:
Ben snickers. "Yeah? I bet he'll work out." He takes another drink. "What's this about, Joe?"

McCannon:
"He was canned about a month ago. wouldn't tell me what went down. But I think it had to do with his partner."

McCannon:
"Anyway, he was moonlighting for the BTC up to a few days ago. Now they're acting like they've never heard of him, and he's gone missing."

Keeper:
Ben's eyebrow raises. "Yeah? Weird. What was he doing, security work?"

McCannon:
"I think so."

Keeper:
"What was his name?"

McCannon:
"Chris Templer."

Keeper:
He shrugs. "Hmm. I don't know him. But they got, like, two hundred guards in the city."

McCannon:
"He told me that the operations he was working on were strange. He spent a lot of time out of town, and he said that he was working with the government."

McCannon:
"I remembered you, and came here."

McCannon:
"Know anything about the BTC and the government, BEn?"

Keeper:
He grins. "You're asking the wrong guy. I just do guard work for them. I clock in, I clock out."

McCannon:
"What do you guard?"

Keeper:
"Like I said, mostly a warehouse. A whole lot of boxes of coats and pants and crap. Government . . ." He shrugs. "You know, they have all kinds of hardcore types in the office. Shit, half of them did spy work or were Green Berets or something. I don't know what THEY do, but I've never been on anything but guard detail."

McCannon:
"Well, I've got a request to make of you, old friend."

Keeper:
"Yeah? How'd I know you might have a request for me?"

McCannon:
"'Cuz my middle name is 'Hidden Agenda', remember?"

Keeper:
"That must be it. So what's this request?"

McCannon:
"A couple of coworkers and I would like to get a peek at those boxes, if you don't mind."

Keeper:
"What boxes?"

McCannon:
"And there's something else..."

McCannon:
"The ones in your warehouse, man."

Keeper:
"What, the coats? I've looked in those damn boxes myself. I spent the last six months working eight hours a night with nobody but those damn boxes. There's nothin' but clothes and cloth."

McCannon:
"Only, hm? Well, then. On to my other request..."

Keeper:
He finishes his beer and listens.

McCannon:
"I think it's about time I got a second job..."

Keeper:
"Yeah?"

McCannon:
"Yeah." Smile widely.

Keeper:
"So? You want a character reference, or what?"

McCannon:
"Character. Occupational. Etc. Can you do it?"

Keeper:
"Can I do what? I'm not following you here, Joe."

McCannon:
"Pass my resume on to the hiring department?"

Keeper:
"Is that it? Sure. What the hell."

McCannon:
"Thanks, pal. Can I use your phone?"

Keeper:
"Yeah, go ahead." He points it out.

McCannon:
I get on and lean toward the window, opening it to somewhat muffle my converstaion. I call Rogers.

Keeper:
Rogers, McCannon calls.

Rogers:
"Hello."

McCannon:
"John, got something for you."

Rogers:
"What do you have?"

McCannon:
"How do you feel about moonlighting at BTC?"

Rogers:
"Come round for a beer, and we'll discuss it fully."

McCannon:
"Right. Where are you?"

Rogers:
"I tell you what lets meet for a pizza I haven't eaten today, you pick the place and I'll buy."

McCannon:
"Giordino's in Little Italy. Meet you there in half an hour."

Rogers:
"OK see you there." "Bye."

McCannon:
"Hey, Ben. I might have a case of cold feet on my hands. I 'll go talk to him. Can I trust you to keep this under wraps for now?"

Rogers:
I'm calling McCannon back.

Keeper:
"Yeah, sure. Listen, Joe . . . You know, they didn't do too thorough a job on my case. I mean, they left a lot of gaps. And they dropped all the crimes. So, look . . ."

Keeper:
McCannon, your pager goes off: Rogers.

McCannon:
"What?"

Keeper:
Ben continues, "So, I mean, somebody ought to follow up on it. You know, if somebody followed up, they could fix some of that bullshit in my record. I could get a job again. Maybe across the river."

McCannon:
"Good point. I'll do what I can. Deal?"

Keeper:
"Yeah. Yeah, that's a deal. All right. You let me know, whatever, I'll square it away with the office."

McCannon:
"Not yet, though. I need a day to get it together with my colleagues."

Keeper:
"Sure. Let me know."

McCannon:
LEave, waving to him. and head to a pay phone downstairs.

Keeper:
You find one easy enough.

McCannon:
Call Rogers.

Rogers:
"Mr. M, bit of a communications breakdown in our last converstion, I've thought about what you said and realised it had a different meaning to what I thought it did at the time, its been a stressful day." "Lets do it."

McCannon:
"Cool. I'll call Ben back. Meet you at the parlor."

Rogers:
"The parlor?"

McCannon:
"Pizza. See you soon."

Rogers:
"Right, later."