Redemption : Explosion by bhogg |
Background: Dax Connor rescued Lael Jackson from an attempted rape, subduing the two assailants, who were later found dead. Dax has been charged to stay in town until the investigation in complete. Lael has invited him to stay with her mom and herself. Dax inadvertently finds himself dropped right in the middle of a complicated drug conspiracy. Characters are listed below.From Previous Chapter: Stanley moved in a measured and deliberate fashion down the alley between the warehouse and adjacent building. He had done this hundreds of times, usually finding nothing. Over the clean, morning air, he smelled something that was out of place, propane, chlorine and ammonia. The distinctive smell of cooking methamphetamine. He clicked back to Nikki. "You better call for back up. I think we have ourselves a meth lab." It was about 7:45 am, when Dax finished having his shower and changed into fresh clothes. He headed toward the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Past the hall and through the kitchen door, he saw Lael and Deputy Jimmy Dent in a more than platonic hug. He smiled. I knew there was something there. He coughed for effect as he greeted the two. "Good morning." "Good morning, Dax." Jimmy flushed red. "I've learned a couple of things this morning. First, that you slept in the big house last night and second, you got up unexpectedly early. Sounds like maybe I should have spent the night over here as well." With a grin, Leal, responded, "Well, you definitely would have spent the night in the barn." "Maybe. Dax, I can't help but ask, do you think letting Boudreaux walk out of here was the right thing to do?" Dax, helped himself to coffee before responding. "We could have held him and given you a call. What would have gone down?" "Not much really. We obviously could have booked him on breaking and entering. Although we might suspect him of things, his record is clean. Not only as a citizen, but other than one black question mark, a good record as a Drug Enforcement Agency operative. He'd be on the street in 48 hours. Beth told me earlier that you know the guy." "Yes, I do. Lael, do you remember me telling you at supper about the one friend I had in high places, Senator John Andrews from Mississippi?" "I do." "A few years ago, there was an attempt being made to blackmail the Senator for some supposed drug involvement by his daughter. The story was that she was involved with some big time distribution and also some big time partying. All captured on video. From the Secret Service side, I was involved with investigating the blackmail. Boudreaux was investigating the drug side with DEA. We worked closely and successfully on this case." Beth walked in to the kitchen after this revelation. "What did he seem like to work with?" After a sip of coffee, Dax responded, "I regarded him as a capable agent. He seemed patient and thorough. His expertise and experience helped me clear up the blackmail situation and wound up gathering sufficient information to put some bad guys in jail." Lael blurted out, "What makes someone change like that?" "It's a good question. I don't know all the facts, only what I heard. Law enforcement is often involved with the seizure of illicit money. Apparently, Boudreaux was involved in a case where a bunch of drug money had been seized and impounded. I'm not sure it was ever conclusively proven, since Gus never did jail time, but all indications were that he took the money. In any event, he was released from the DEA, and I'm pretty sure he didn't get the gold watch." "I'm not defending Boudreaux in any way, but I know I've had my hands on millions of dollars of terrorist money. I think anybody in that position has to be thinking that they risk their lives every day for a paycheck smaller than most of their neighbors and friends." With this, Jimmy looked up. "What happened to those millions that were in your hands?" Dax smiled. "You should ask the 400 Secret Service agents who got brand new, state of the art, ballistic vests. If you don't get an answer from them, ask the 200 agents who got the new Glock model 20, 10 millimeter pistols. We sure as hell didn't dump that money back into the general fund. I always found a certain irony in using seized terrorist money to fund anti-terrorist activity." With that, Jimmy chuckled. "Do you suppose you could hang around here for awhile? We could sure use a new squad car or two." "I wasn't planning on sticking around. Which brings to me ask, when do you expect to get me cleared enough so the Sheriff won't mind me leaving town?" "The Georgia Bureau of Investigation usually turns around the DSR check for gunpowder residue in 48 hours. Some guys I know are going to turn it around faster than that. I think we'll hear back by late afternoon." Beth looked right at Dax when she asked, "Where are you headed when you leave from here?" Shaking his head side to side, Dax answered, "I don't know Beth, I truly don't know." ***************************************** With the request for back-up in, Stanley decided to see if he could peer into the warehouse. Crouching, he approached the single, side window. Removing his cap, he raised up ever so slowly. The sun was coming up from behind the building and wasn't up high enough to throw light through the skylights. Along with dimness, the window was caked with years of dust. Peering over the sill, Stanley could see what looked to be propane tanks in the corner by the back entrance. There were some other barrels and debris on the floor, along with what appeared to be ten or so car batteries. Two crude tables had been assembled by using boxes and old doors. The tables were covered with various containers and tubing. What Stan's nose had told him, his eyes now confirmed. This was a meth lab and not too small. Straining, Stan looked to the right of the furthermost table. What he saw, he didn't like. There were two bodies on the ground. Beneath the head of each body, there was what appeared to be a spreading pool of ink. Stan knew it wasn't ink. Crouching back down, Stan hustled back out toward the front where Nikki was. "Nikki, I just visually confirmed that someone was probably cooking methamphetamines here recently. I also confirmed that there are at least two guys on the floor who aren't moving. It looks like head shots again, so I doubt if they're alive. What did you find out about the back-up?" "They should be here any minute. Jimmy Dent heard we were coming over here and already asked that back-up be sent. It should be the Bunn boys." Scott and Terry Bunn were not brothers. In fact, the only thing they had in common was a last name. Scott was ex-military, an old MP instructor from Fort Gordon, GA. Terry recently finished the advanced law enforcement class at the local tech school. He completed the training for deputy and had been off his probationary period for two months. He was a kid who wanted to be a cop all his life. Stan thought, not perfect, but doable. I'll take Terry with me and leave Scott to provide back-up with Nicki. The other car pulled up in a perfectly executed arrival. They came in as silent as possible, parking about a block away. As the two arrived, Stan brought them up to speed and outlined the plan. "Scott, I want you to position yourself to the side of the building so you can cover both front and back. Nikki, you need to stay toward the front. There is an abandoned lift truck that should give you good cover. Terry and I will go in through the back dock double doors. I took a peek at them. There is a good sized gap between the doors and it looks open. If it is locked, the lock is probably as rusty as everything else around here, so we can probably push it open. Terry, I want you to stand to my left and cover my right side. I'll enter into the doors and fan out and cover the left side. You come behind me and move to the right." Terry beamed. "That's an enter and cover technique we learned in school." Stan answered patiently, "Just remember, that was school and this is the real world. There is no such thing as a totally predictable situation. Just follow me and do what I say. We'll be fine." Terry and Stan crouched and sprinted to the back door, handguns out. They arrived at the back double doors. Stan was taking a moment to catch his breath. Terry wasn't even breathing hard. "Alright, Terry, here we go." Stan shoved the door open and bounded into the room. All of a sudden, he felt a hand grab the back of his jacket. With a great deal of force, he was jerked off his feet, backward through the double doors and out over the back concrete dock. Before he even had time to think, there was a loud explosion, followed quickly by an even bigger explosion and fireball. Stan found himself groggy, dazed, and hard of hearing. Oddly enough, he was laying on top of Terry on the ground outside and below the loading dock. He heard Terry groan. Scott rushed around to the back where they were lying. He looked to have a slight head cut and was bleeding. "Are you two okay?" Stan rolled off of Terry and felt himself all over. "I don't think anything is busted. How about you, Terry?" "Well, I'm a hell of a lot better now that you're not on top of me. You need to start eating salads for lunch. You're heavy." Helping each other up, Stan asked, "How did we get on the ground there?" Scott answered this one. "I watched you two burst through the door, and all of a sudden, Terry had you by the jacket, jerking you out and onto the ground." With a puzzled look, Stan asked Terry, "How did you know to jerk me out?" "When you went through the door, the sunlight lit up a trip wire about five inches off the ground. Opening the door pushed the wire forward. I just grabbed your jacket and pulled for all I was worth." "How did you know anything about trip wires?" Smiling, Terry answered, "Just something else we learned in school. Where there's a trip wire, there's often a big old boom waiting to happen."
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