Cry Havoc Read online

  Christy jumped up. “You guys hungry?”

  Teague rolled his head on the back of the chair. “Starved.”

  “I could eat something.” Daniel replied.

  Christy headed for the kitchen. Daniel watched her leave and once she was out of earshot, he sat up on the couch. “What are you really doing here?”

  “Dude, I told ya. Just wanted to travel a little.”

  “Really?” Daniel said in disbelief. “That shit up there didn’t have anything to do with you it, did it?”

  “What shit?”

  “Dude, don’t even try to play with me. You know what I’m talking about.” Daniel fired back.

  Teague quickly sat up in the chair. “I didn’t have anything to do with it. Sure, some of my friends did, but I wasn’t there.”

  “Mmm, hmm. I figured it was something like that, all that anti-government crap you used to spout off.”

  “You guys want a burger and some onion rings?” Christy called out.

  “Hell yeah!” Teague called out.

  “Sounds good, babe.”

  Teague leaned towards Daniel and tried to whisper. “Dude, she is hawt!”

  “I heard that.” Christy shouted, her back to them at the stove.

  Daniel smiled. “The problem is she knows it too.”

  “Hey, I heard that too! Watch it, mister!” Daniel looked over to see her pointing a spatula at him.

  Daniel smiled and Teague let out a loud laugh.

  “You know I love ya, babe,” Daniel said.

  Christy’s back was to him, watching the burgers on the stove. “Whatever!”

  “So, you really didn’t have anything to do with it?” Daniel asked.

  “No, I told you. I’m just on vacation.”

  “Cool. Let’s find something to watch. How are those burgers, babe?” Daniel shouted.

  “Burned, if you keep it up.”

  Chapter 4

  Carlos sat at his desk with his head in his hands. All the riots lately have taken a lot out of everyone. Now things were going to a whole new level. Southerland and Andrews were in the hospital with gunshot wounds. Things were definitely getting serious. The fact that all weapons were now outlawed made no difference. Most people had not turned them in, and certainly not the typical gang banger. Hell, even he didn’t put all of his weapons on the forms he had to fill out as a law enforcement officer. They said he could keep his, but Carlos didn’t trust the government any more than the people currently burning down the city. The only difference between him and the rioters was that he wasn’t ready to start lighting fires, yet.

  Another officer walked by him and paused. “Hey, Carlos. They’re gonna be alright. Word from the ER is neither of them had serious wounds.”

  Carlos looked up. “Thanks, man. That’s good, real good.”

  The other officer quickly moved off and Carlos looked at his desk. It was mounded with paperwork that needed to be completed, but he just didn’t have the energy or give a shit about doing it. Under the new laws, the use of the rifle in the riot changed the entire dynamic of how the city would deal with them from now on. The first thing the APD did was to call the FBI and tell them about the shooting of two of their officers. Now, in addition to the state investigation into the shooting, there would be a federal one as well. But that was above his pay grade, and other people had to worry about that. He knew though that at some point he would probably be interviewed by the FBI and the GBI, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation.

  His phone rang and Carlos picked it up without even thinking. “Carlos”.

  “Carlos, this is Richard Folsom with the FBI. I’m on my way down. Can you hang out till I get there?”

  Carlos rocked back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure. How long till you get here?”

  “My team will be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  Rubbing a hand through his hair, he replied. “I’ll be right here. Got nothing better to do right now.”

  “Thanks”, came the terse reply before the line went dead.

  Carlos hung up the phone then stomped on the floor. “Well, shit!”

  “What’s wrong?” A female voice asked from behind him.

  Carlos spun around to see detective Nora Fitz from the vice squad. “Some dick from the FBI is on his way down here, to interview me I assume.”

  “Dick? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” She asked with a smile.

  “No, he’s a real Dick, some guy named Richard Folsom.”

  “Dick,” Nora said, shaking her head. “That’s damn funny,” She added as she walked away.

  ***

  Daniel, Christy and Teague sat and ate the hamburgers and the onion rings. Teague was stuffing a couple in his mouth, his head slightly back, looking at her. Not only was she hot, but the girl could cook. The TV was on CNN, and footage of riots from all over the country flashed across the screen. The ticker at the bottom slowly crawled across the screen with other news facts. The NYSE had been shut down at 1:00 PM when the circuit breakers kicked in due to excessive losses. In California, police were looking for whoever attacked a Girl Scout campout, killing three young girls.

  “What’s going on at work? It must be crazy down there.” Christy asked between bites of her burger.

  The question caught Daniel off guard and he almost choked on a mouthful of burger. Recovering, he looked up. “Ah, yeah. You might say that.”

  Christy and Teague both sat there looking at him, waiting for more. When he didn’t continue, Teague said, “And?”

  “And, what?” Daniel replied.

  “What happened?” Christy asked.

  “Nothing, nothing really. Just the same stuff you see there,” Daniel said pointing at the TV.

  Teague looked at the big screen. “More than I’d want to deal with. That’s part of the reason I left Michigan.”

  “Me too. I haven’t been anywhere near the business district. But I was told today I may have to go to the ER to help out,” Christy said. She was a pediatric nurse that worked in the neonatal unit.

  Daniel looked over at Teague. “Yeah. Some bad shit up there, huh.”

  Teague stared at the screen. “Yeah.”

  “How long is Teague staying here?” Christy asked.

  “I don’t know. How long are you staying here?” Daniel asked.

  Teague just shrugged his shoulders. “I guess till you kick me out.”

  “So, you’re leaving tomorrow then?”

  “Daniel, that’s not very nice.” Christy fired back.

  Teague just laughed and Daniel followed suit. “He can stick around. I don’t care.” Looking at Christy, he asked, “Why are they sending you to the ER?”

  She shrugged. “I guess things are getting really bad in there. I walked through, and it was just lined with people. I don’t want to go down there.”

  “I don’t think you should. If they say you have to go there, you shouldn’t go back to work.” Daniel replied.

  “I wouldn’t go.” Teague added.

  Christy was shocked. “How could I do that? If the ER is so swamped they’re pulling nurses from other departments, then they really need help. I’d have to go. I couldn’t not go.”

  “You could also get stuck at the hospital. You know the bank has a dorm in the basement? There are even private rooms for the more important people,” Daniel said.

  Teague took a drink of beer. “Figures. Rich ass fat cats with their own little bunker in the bank.”

  “What’s it for?” Christy asked.

  Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. I just found out about it.”

  After finishing their burgers, Daniel said he was tired and wanted to go to bed. Christy said she’d go with him and Teag
ue said he was going to stay up and watch TV for a while. Daniel went to a closet and got out extra blankets for Teague and threw them at him before heading to bed.

  Teague was sleeping with his face wedged into the joint between the arm and the back of the sofa, sound asleep. He opened his eyes. Was it a noise? Lying there seeing only the fabric of the couch, he listened. Knock, knock, knock, resonated from the door, very loudly and with force. Teague bolted upright, his blanket covering half of his head. The knock came again. He jumped up, looking around, not sure what to do.

  Looking back at the door, he called out. “Who is it?”

  After a brief pause came the reply. “Agent Richard Folsom with the FBI.”

  Teague’s mouth fell open and it took a conscious effort on his part not to piss on himself. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. Quickly crossing the room, he pulled his pistol from his bag and checked the action. Moving back to the door, he looked through the peep, there were two men outside. That struck him as odd. If the FBI knew he was there, they would send the same SRT team to kick in the door as they did in other takedowns.

  “What do you need?” Teague called out.

  “Is Daniel here?”

  Teague jerked his head back, looking at the door. Daniel? They wanted Daniel. “Uh, yeah. Let me get him.”

  Teague headed for Daniel’s room. Stopping by the bathroom, he shoved his pistol into the center of a stack of towels on a shelf over the toilet, then went to Daniel’s door and opened it. Daniel and Christy were lying there, and Christy was sleeping commando.

  “Dude, the FBI’s here.”

  Daniel was asleep when the door opened. All he heard was FBI and here. Sitting up in the bed rubbing his eyes, he asked, “What, who?”

  Teague was half leaning into the dark room holding onto the doorknob. “The FBI is at the door asking for you.”

  “What, the FBI? For what?” Daniel asked as he got out of bed.

  “How the hell would I know.”

  “What’s going on?” Christy asked as she sat up, covering herself with a sheet.

  “The FBI’s here, babe,” Daniel said.

  “The FBI, for what? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The knock sounded from the door again. Teague looked over his shoulder. “Dude, you better go find out what they want.”

  “Yeah, I’m going, I’m going,” Daniel said as he pulled on a pair of shorts.

  “I’m gonna grab a shower,” Teague said as he headed for the bathroom.

  Daniel walked past him and headed for the living room as Teague went into the bathroom. Closing the door, Teague leaned against the door trying not to lose it. Looking at the stack of towels, he reached in and pulled the pistol out. Its mere presence reassured him. Looking around the bathroom, he knew he had to find a better place to hide it, but still have it handy. The obvious places would be searched; and he was about to just stick it under the sink when his eyes fell on the toilet.

  Gently taking the cover off the tank, he laid his Rock River 1911 into the bottom and replaced the cover. It would probably be searched as well, but at least it was out of sight. He quickly turned on the water, making it exceptionally hot, and got into the shower. He was so nervous, all he could do was stand there and stare at the curtain in the direction of the door.

  Daniel turned on a lamp by the sofa as he headed for the door, then looked through the peep. Two men in blue windbreakers with FBI in yellow letters were standing there, obviously annoyed. They looked up simultaneously as he opened the door.

  “Sorry, I was asleep,” Daniel said.

  “I’m Richard Folsom. This is Chris Collins. May we come in?”

  Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s this about?”

  “What happened at the bank yesterday.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, come on in.”

  The two men followed him in. Daniel flopped onto the sofa, threw his feet out on the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest. Agent Folsom took a seat in the chair, and the other one just stood there looking around.

  “Who else is here?” Agent Collins asked.

  Daniel looked back over the sofa. “My girlfriend and my cousin.”

  Agent Collins looked back towards the bedroom. “Where are they?”

  “She’s back there in the bedroom, and I think he’s in the shower. So, what can I help you guys with?”

  Agent Folsom set out a notepad on the table and flipped through some pages for a moment, looking at the notes intently. Looking up, he asked Daniel to tell him what happened.

  “I guess you’re asking about the shooting?”

  “That’d be a good place to start,” Folsom said with a nod.

  Before Daniel could start, Christy came out and sat down on the sofa, moving away the blankets Teague had left scattered around. Daniel looked at her, then back to the agents.

  “This is my girlfriend, Christy.”

  The two agents nodded, and she smiled and looked at Daniel. “What’s going on?”

  “Daniel’s about to tell us,” Collins said. Everyone in the room looked at Daniel.

  He went on to describe the events on the roof of the garage, the Molotov cocktails, the man with the rifle, the shooting of the two officers and finally of the LT with the APD asking for their help. When he finished, he was leaning forward on his elbows looking at the table. Agent Folsom took notes as he spoke and flipped through the notebook as he relayed the story.

  “You shot someone?” Christy asked with a little shock.

  Without looking up from the notebook, Folsom asked, “Who fired first?”

  The question caught Daniel off guard. “Uh, the guy with the AK.”

  Looking up, Folsom asked, “No, you or Bob?”

  Daniel fell back into the sofa, letting out a huff. “Um, I think I did. Bob was on the phone with the cop.”

  Folsom nodded his head, flipped through the notebook, made a note on another page then closed the book. “Well, your story lines up with Bob’s.”

  “Am I in trouble or something?” Daniel asked.

  “I don’t see any problems right now. You guys were backing up the police at their request, so you’re good for now.”

  “He’s taking an awful long shower, isn’t he?” Agent Collins said, stepping towards the hallway to the bathroom.

  Daniel and Christy both looked back towards him. “I guess,” Daniel said.

  “Why don’t you check on him,” Collins said.

  Daniel shrugged and stood up and headed for the bathroom. He rapped on the door. “Hey man, you still alive in there?”

  The door jerked open. Daniel jumped back a bit, bumping into Collins who was standing very close behind him. Teague stood there with a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another.

  “What’s up?” Teague asked.

  “Ah, nuthin’. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t drown,” Daniel said as he headed back to the sofa.

  Teague followed him into the living room with agent Collins right behind him. Teague went to his bag in the corner and bent over, opening it up. When he bent over his towel fell to the floor. Christy let out a little giggle. Teague looked back at the agents who were not the least bit amused to be staring at his bare ass and ball sack. Teague picked the towel up and wrapped it back around himself, collected his clothes from the bag and straightened up. He held the clothes up and smiled, then headed for the bathroom to get dressed.

  “I’ll be in touch if we need anything else,” Folsom said as he headed for the door with Collins in tow.

  Daniel followed them to the door, thanked them for coming and said he would cooperate in any way he could. After shutting the door, he could hear Collins say “That kid’s a smartass.”

&n
bsp; Teague was in the bathroom with his back against the door, leaning on the vanity for support. He was laughing so hard tears were running down his face. The only thing keeping the sound in was his hand clasped over his mouth.

  ***

  With the building empty, Gene took up his preferred post while at work, in his small office in the bowels of the building. He felt at home in the engineering spaces of the giant place. Sure, it wasn’t like being onboard ship, but it was as close as he could get. Asleep with his feet up on the desk when the phone rang, he nearly fell out of the chair. What was left of his tuna sandwich resting on his chest, fell on the floor. After flailing about for moment to regain his balance, he answered the phone.

  “Engineering.”

  “You awake, Gene?”

  “Am now, Bob. Thanks. What’s up?”

  “I knew you’d still be here. You plan on going home any time soon? Things are quiet outside right now if you want to bail out.”

  “Nah, I’ll just stay here. No reason to go home.”

  “Well, come on up to my office. We’ll have a drink.”

  “Sounds good to me. On my way.”

  “Say, Gene. You still hiding that illegal .45 in your desk?”

  Gene replied with a chuckle. “He, he. Of course I am.”

  “Bring it with you then.”

  Gene found Bob at his desk, one foot propped on it. In hand was the omnipresent cigarette. In the other, he cradled a glass of scotch. Only this time it was in a clear tumbler. Gene fell into a chair across from him. Bob leaned forward and slid the bottle and another glass across the desk. Gene quickly poured himself a little more than two fingers of whiskey.

  Taking a sip of his whiskey, Gene asked, “Why you still here. Why not go home?”

  “Same reason you’re still here. Nothing to go home to. Already have two ex-wives. Just an empty house, my friend.”

  Gene laughed to himself. “Amen to ex-wives. Mine divorced me as soon as I retired. So long as I was in the Navy and stayed gone a year at a time, we were happily married.”