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Chapter Two
A loud knock sounded seconds before the door flung open, and two of his newest buddies entered. They wore clothing that screamed their affiliation to the white supremacist group he’d been infiltrating for months, the same gang his boss believed was instrumental in the killing of at least a half dozen people over the last few months.
These thugs had started a racist rampage of murder and mayhem that Washington hadn’t seen before. According to the information the DOJ had gathered on these terrorist groups throughout the country, they hadn’t expected to see the Order of Entitled become so huge and alarming in such a short time.
After years of infiltration from agents into the many, varied clusters around the country from California and Dallas to New York, Kane had been shocked to witness the ramping up of this particular group into a mobilized assembly of ex-military. And it had only taken a few years for them to gather the many recruits willing to do anything asked of them.
“Hey, bro. How’s it hanging?”
Pretending he’d just woken; Kane rubbed at his face and dragged his fingers through the mass of hair he purposely hadn’t washed in many days. “Grabbed a nap. Too much pizza and booze.” He checked his watch. “You’re late, Gordie. Hey, Ham. What’s up?”
“I need a beer. Got any left? Or have you drunk it all?”
“Nah. Picked up a couple of six-packs. Wait here.”
Since this particular gang’s leader preferred the shadows, Kane had been overjoyed to finally get this personal visit. Gordie Oliver’s reputation of being chillingly scary preceded him and forced Kane to willingly play along with their various nefarious activities.
Though it had been one of the hardest assignments he’d ever had to swallow, he’d known how important it would be to have eyes and ears inside this sicko’s management.
God help him, pretending to hate people who weren’t white didn’t come easy even if he’d purposely acquired the look of the very kind of person who should have no problem. Hiding his base instincts of honor and integrity, and sickened by the actions expected of him, he’d played along just to get close to the really big boss he’d yet to meet.
Having accidentally run into Oliver’s second-in-command, Hank Stern, nicknamed Hamster, at a pub hangout he accidentally stumbled on, he’d been shocked at the bullshit he’d overheard. Listening to him and two fools blabbing too loudly at the bar while next to him, his ears had perked up. Their plans included some pretty gnarly shit the law needed to know about.
Sneaking a photo with his phone, he’d done a search through the NCTC database and found he’d stumbled onto one sick dude whose rap sheet included multiple assaults, burglary, and making terroristic threats after attempting to slice open a black landlord.
Kane had taken this info to his boss, James Bull, Deputy Director at the NCTC and between them, they’d come up with a plan. James had connected him with his buddy at the local FBI agency who should be aware of this happening, and they’d arranged this undercover assignment.
After showing up at that bar for a few nights in a row, making sure the same gang hung out there, he continued with his scheme.
Organizing another officer to roleplay, they’d set up a scene at the same place where Kane would call out the dude as they both tried to get the bartender’s attention. Making racial slurs, calling attention to himself on purpose, Kane fought the other man who’d taken umbrage to the racist crap, and after a few playacted punches, Kane had eventually run him off.
Their dispute that had ended with Kane slumping back to the bar, ranting to whoever listened that he was sick and tired of having to give his place up to a prick who had no right to even be in his country.
That had pretty much opened the door. The gang who’d watched the action unfold had slithered over to him and after a few more meetings, he’d been included. Pretending he’d be perfect for their filthy doctrines; he’d spouted garbage he knew would gain Gordie and Hamster’s attention… and it had.
After months of infiltrating each aspect of the band’s activities, he’d finally become accepted. To get Gordie’s complete approval, he’d again worked with DHS to set up a bogus scam where they’d captured him, giving Kane the opportunity to save his life and that had pretty much gotten him a pass to the front of the line.
“Hey, I thought we were going to have a meeting here tonight. Where’s the rest of the boys and the Commander?”
Gordie answered. “They’re coming in the other car. Look, I wanted to get a few words with you first. You know we’re planning to infiltrate the coming march for Black Lives Matter this weekend. Well, turns out having access to the dark web might have paid off. The Commander has a chance to purchase five of the prettiest bombs with timers, and if placed in the right areas, they could do a lot of damage.”
Sickened, Kane couldn’t believe he’d heard right. “What? Here in D.C.?”
“Yeah, man. Sweet, huh?”
“Not sure I get what you mean? You plan to set off these bombs all at once? In the same place?”
“First, he has to send them to us, but yeah, all at once. Only in five different places along that street. Figure we can hide them and have their detonators timed to blow at the very same moment.”
“Christ, Gordie. That’s a huge undertaking without anyone getting caught.”
“That’s just it,” the scrawny, pimple-faced genius glowed. “The Commander knows a guy who can connect them with some kind of a control app which means none of us have to be near them at the time they explode. And, Sadie, my bitch, came up with the idea of putting them in fancy flower-pot arrangements so we can line them up as decorations along the route the night before.” Laughing in his irritating gatling-gun way, he added, “Do you know how many of those fuckers we can get with this plan? It excites the shit outta me, man.” The snarky ending spouted gleefully made the dipshit seem even more evil than his beady eyes conveyed.
Horrified to his very soul, Kane could only nod, lower his head as if he were thinking, and cover up his instinctive wish to take the other man apart with his bare hands.
Holy hell. This was even worse than they’d figured. These people were off the deep end.Thank God he’d gotten close enough to be involved so he might put an end to this bullshit plan. Feeling spiders nibbling at his spine, he quickly glanced at the bedroom door in time to see the gaping crack and knew that his daughter had listened to every word spilling from the freak’s mouth.
Problem was, she must believe her father belonged with these maniacs. She couldn’t be allowed to run to the authorities with this information. Hell, he needed precious time to find out who ran the operation, who the one person was they referred to as the Commander, not only in D.C. but in other places around the U.S.
He or she, the head of this disgusting snake, happened to be the person the FBI and NCTC most wanted. And as an undercover officer, his job included finding and stopping this depraved racist from carrying out his filthy plan.
