Agent Maxwell pulled into the warehouse, anxious to take down one of New York City's most prolific mob bosses. He was known as Sergio but everyone knew it was simply one of his many aliases. He was a ruthless but just leader, if such a thing even exists in organized crime. Those loyal to Sergio were rewarded, those who even thought of betraying him, were disposed of in the most creative manner possible.
Maxwell was alone, as was Sergio, according to the intel. There was a massive accident involving an two 18 wheeler trucks, blocking traffic from advancing. Maxwell was the only one to beat the rush. His calls for back up fell on deaf ears and he waited outside, unsure of how to proceed. Maxwell recently made it to the FBI's white collar division after working for the New York Park Police for five years. He was a no-name, just another guy putting his life on the line for a petty cop salary. Then he got his chance when he was delivering some case files to the FBI. He walked into a meeting on accident and happened to connect the dots on a billion dollar Ponzi scheme and helped take down one of the biggest crime syndicates in America since Al Capone.
While he seemed to be a promising and fresh addition to the FBI he disappeared. He couldn't solve any of the big cases that came to him and soon went back to being a grunt, this time in the FBI office. Sergio was a on the most wanted list for the better part of ten years, Maxwell was the one who came up with the lead that led him to this warehouse. A friend of his was walking past this very place when he heard loud grumbling machinery coming from the inside; which he considered odd considering the warehouse was abandoned for violating structural code. Maxwell followed up, did his magic and now was at the warehouse without a single officer to cover him.
Protocol dictated that he not enter without back-up, his safety was more important than catching a criminal. Maxwell had his options in front of him, thought about them and knew this arrest would open every door in the world of law enforcement. He decided to go in. Flipping the safety off his pistol, he clutched his weapon in this right hand and slowly opened the door with his left. He walked in and saw two individuals swapping briefcases, it looked like a deal was going down. He aimed his pistol at them, and told them to freeze. Both men slowly raised their hands and Maxwell moved in slowly, eager to make the biggest arrest of his career. He reached for his handcuffs but his hand didn't make it all the way back.
The bumpy road woke Maxwell up. His head was aching and was swollen to the size a melon, he was gagged and had his arms and legs tied up rather professionally. It was dark and he couldn't see a thing but figured he was in the back of some cargo van. He had no clue how long he'd been out but realized there must have been an ambush waiting for him at the warehouse. The intel was bad, and Maxwell was going to suffer for it. After 30 minutes or so the truck stopped in what appeared to be a ghost town. There were old, rotting buildings but no actual people, or so he thought. This ghost town was actually Sergio's headquarters.
Sergio wanted to record Maxwell to get a random message out to the government. He ungagged him, placed a clean white background behind him, and drew a smiley face on the top of the white background, just to mess with them. Sergio told Maxwell exactly what to say, and that a single deviation would mean 5 minutes of water boarding and something involving jumper cables and a car battery. If he kept to the script, he wouldn't be hurt. Such was the 'just' nature with which Sergio ruled. Maxwell stuck to the script, but blinked quite erratically, probably on account of the stress that accompanies kidnapping victims.
Maxwell was then tossed into a solid steel prison cage, with no windows and a hole in the ground that lead to the septic tank. The stench engulfed the cage's occupants, and was harder to remove than a clingy girlfriend. Maxwell was in there for hours, nauseated by the putrid smell of year old human waste. Sergio then brought him out, and told him that, regretfully, the FBI didn't meet his ransom demands, and because they didn't hold up their end, Sergio isn't responsible for keeping him safe. He blindfolded him and told him his death would be quick and painless. Five men lined up around around him and readied their weapons. Sergio counted down from 5.
"Five...four...three...two...."
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
A battalion of FBI and SWAT team members, decked out in bullet proof kevlar and armed with M4A1 assault rifles, surrounded the make-shift firing squad. Maxwell exhaled a sigh of relief, knowing that he was going to be okay.
Maxwell, while not known as a superstar agent, mastered morse code and relayed it with his blinks when Sergio had him record the ransom video. He blinked the license plate number of the armored cargo van that he was in. FBI tracked down the license plate number and activated the LoJack tracking system that was built into all armored vehicles. The delay was in figuring out Maxwell was using morse code, translating it and then figuring out what a seemingly random assortment of letters and numbers meant.
Maxwell took the next day off and was eager to get his bearings back and go back to the office, knowing that people would never forget his name again.
Maxwell was alone, as was Sergio, according to the intel. There was a massive accident involving an two 18 wheeler trucks, blocking traffic from advancing. Maxwell was the only one to beat the rush. His calls for back up fell on deaf ears and he waited outside, unsure of how to proceed. Maxwell recently made it to the FBI's white collar division after working for the New York Park Police for five years. He was a no-name, just another guy putting his life on the line for a petty cop salary. Then he got his chance when he was delivering some case files to the FBI. He walked into a meeting on accident and happened to connect the dots on a billion dollar Ponzi scheme and helped take down one of the biggest crime syndicates in America since Al Capone.
While he seemed to be a promising and fresh addition to the FBI he disappeared. He couldn't solve any of the big cases that came to him and soon went back to being a grunt, this time in the FBI office. Sergio was a on the most wanted list for the better part of ten years, Maxwell was the one who came up with the lead that led him to this warehouse. A friend of his was walking past this very place when he heard loud grumbling machinery coming from the inside; which he considered odd considering the warehouse was abandoned for violating structural code. Maxwell followed up, did his magic and now was at the warehouse without a single officer to cover him.
Protocol dictated that he not enter without back-up, his safety was more important than catching a criminal. Maxwell had his options in front of him, thought about them and knew this arrest would open every door in the world of law enforcement. He decided to go in. Flipping the safety off his pistol, he clutched his weapon in this right hand and slowly opened the door with his left. He walked in and saw two individuals swapping briefcases, it looked like a deal was going down. He aimed his pistol at them, and told them to freeze. Both men slowly raised their hands and Maxwell moved in slowly, eager to make the biggest arrest of his career. He reached for his handcuffs but his hand didn't make it all the way back.
The bumpy road woke Maxwell up. His head was aching and was swollen to the size a melon, he was gagged and had his arms and legs tied up rather professionally. It was dark and he couldn't see a thing but figured he was in the back of some cargo van. He had no clue how long he'd been out but realized there must have been an ambush waiting for him at the warehouse. The intel was bad, and Maxwell was going to suffer for it. After 30 minutes or so the truck stopped in what appeared to be a ghost town. There were old, rotting buildings but no actual people, or so he thought. This ghost town was actually Sergio's headquarters.
Sergio wanted to record Maxwell to get a random message out to the government. He ungagged him, placed a clean white background behind him, and drew a smiley face on the top of the white background, just to mess with them. Sergio told Maxwell exactly what to say, and that a single deviation would mean 5 minutes of water boarding and something involving jumper cables and a car battery. If he kept to the script, he wouldn't be hurt. Such was the 'just' nature with which Sergio ruled. Maxwell stuck to the script, but blinked quite erratically, probably on account of the stress that accompanies kidnapping victims.
Maxwell was then tossed into a solid steel prison cage, with no windows and a hole in the ground that lead to the septic tank. The stench engulfed the cage's occupants, and was harder to remove than a clingy girlfriend. Maxwell was in there for hours, nauseated by the putrid smell of year old human waste. Sergio then brought him out, and told him that, regretfully, the FBI didn't meet his ransom demands, and because they didn't hold up their end, Sergio isn't responsible for keeping him safe. He blindfolded him and told him his death would be quick and painless. Five men lined up around around him and readied their weapons. Sergio counted down from 5.
"Five...four...three...two...."
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
A battalion of FBI and SWAT team members, decked out in bullet proof kevlar and armed with M4A1 assault rifles, surrounded the make-shift firing squad. Maxwell exhaled a sigh of relief, knowing that he was going to be okay.
Maxwell, while not known as a superstar agent, mastered morse code and relayed it with his blinks when Sergio had him record the ransom video. He blinked the license plate number of the armored cargo van that he was in. FBI tracked down the license plate number and activated the LoJack tracking system that was built into all armored vehicles. The delay was in figuring out Maxwell was using morse code, translating it and then figuring out what a seemingly random assortment of letters and numbers meant.
Maxwell took the next day off and was eager to get his bearings back and go back to the office, knowing that people would never forget his name again.
No comments:
Post a Comment