Chapter 8.

TAKING OUT THE COLD STORE

Curt Harker found himself standing in a dark alley downtown of New Orleans, leaning against the hood on his car. He had different jobs in the Syndicate but acting as an errand boy was his least favourite. Especially dealing with the likes of Lieutenant Max Wallace from the New Orleans Police Department. Lieutenant Wallace was one of the police officers that had realised that he could not live on an ordinary police salary alone. But there were other ways to make money, and the Syndicate paid well just to be informed of when the police was sniffing around one of their companies.

"There he is now." Harker thought to himself as he spotted the lieutenant coming waddling down the street, throwing nervous looks up and down the street as he went.

Harker found him repulsive. Unshaven, with the flesh bobbing up and down underneath his filthy suit. A few hours on the Stairmaster would do him some good.

"Why couldn't he take care of himself better?"

Curt masked his contempt and waved hi as Wallace finally came up to him.

"Why do we always have to meet in these alleys?" Wallace asked impatiently.

Harker threw him an angry glare.

"Would you rather have me visiting you in your office where everyone could see us doing business? How long do you think you would keep your position then?"

"Don't take that tone with me! I have enough dirt on you to lock you up for a long time!"

Curt was not intimidated.

"Perhaps you do." He said simply. "But what would it mean for you in the long run? Sure, you get the pleasure of locking me up and throwing away the key, but you lose your precious bonus. You know, the very reason why you are selling us information."

The two men stared each other down for a few moments, Wallace judged his challenge of Harker, but whatever he liked it or not he could not back out.

"So, what have you got for us?" Curt asked.

"The police have a positive lead on the arms dealer in the Kenner district. They have set up an observation post on the other side of the street with tape-recorders, photographic equipment and wiretapping devices."

He handed over a detailed map of the police position. Harker lifted a surprised eyebrow.

"Well, Wallace." He said slowly. "You just became useful."

He put his hand into the pocket, a move that made the police lieutenant twitch. The hand returned up with an envelope, which Curt tossed over. The lieutenant opened it up and counted through the money eagerly.

"A little bonus for the information." Harker said.

"What are you going to do about the warehouse?" Wallace asked as Harker opened the door to his car.

"That's for us to know, and you to find out." Harker replied before he slammed the door shut. "But you are better of not knowing."

Once he was out on the road, Curt took his phone out of his pocket and called Ulysses. He forwarded all information to the trafficker of information, including the lieutenants map, which he had photographed.

"I think that we need to cover all the leads." Harker suggested. "Captain Dixon is in charge of observing the cold store. He will take notes and snaps of everyone who comes and goes, but he won't move in unless he's getting authorisation from the security department."

"Pressing, but hardly serious." Ulysses said. "I'll contact our leader and have him decide about our course of operation."

Harker rang off. Ulysses tapped a few keys on his computer, and it called a secured number for him. A few moments later the Syndicates leader answered the phone.

Ulysses forwarded everything that Harker had said. The leader's decision came quickly.

"We should destroy all evidence." he said. His voice betraying no emotion. "Cleaning up thoroughly, leaving no leads."

"And the men in that warehouse?" Ulysses asked.

"We destroy all evidence." The leader repeated. "No witnesses. Make sure that this information reaches the security department in the World Unification Alliance. It looks better if their own people do the job for us. It will look less like a cover-up operation."

"I'll do it through the usual routes." Ulysses promised. "There will be nothing to trace back to us."

Five hours later, Colonel Lyman Wolf had gathered a strike force in a conference room in the World Consultation Building. Earlier he had received an urgent message from the security department in the World Unification Alliance headquarters asking H.H.'s department to neutralise the arms dealer before more weaponry ended up on the street. Never one to rest on his laurels, Colonel Wolf didn't bother to wait for H.H. to return from a meeting in New York, instead opting to deal with the situation on his own. He ordered some of his men to download all information they could find from the police files and then, once they had gone through all strategical procedures, he had selected his strike force.

He gave them detailed description on the arms dealer and the warehouse in Kenner.

"All traces lead to this cold store in the Kenner district." He briefed. While he did, he pointed at an image of the said cold store on the screen behind him. "Imports and exports. Freezing storage and refrigerating transport that drives across the country as well as abroad. A perfect camouflage to cross the borders. From the outside, a perfectly legitimate and respected company.

This is all a fraud cover. In reality they are using this cold store and their vehicles to smuggle weapons. The police have uncovered that they are supplying many of the motorcycle gangs, hoods and ordinary kids with these weapons, which is why we must act decisively to stop this trade."

He pressed a button on the wireless presenter he held in his hand and changed picture. It now showed an aerial photograph over the Kenner district. Wolf marked out important spots.

"Here is the cold store. At the other side, the New Orleans Police Department has set up an observation post. From there they have observed, photographed and bugged the area."

The slide changed for one that showed the warehouse in cross-section.

"Team one will conduct a full-frontal assault, drawing all attention from the men inside, while team two goes in from the back on the upper floor."

Another image showed the building from above together with its yard.

"There are dogs guarding the perimeters." 'Mayhem' explained almost as an afterthought. "Use these canisters to pacify them. If that doesn't work, you'll have to shot them."

The team got up from their seats and followed Colonel Wolf down to the garage where several cars awaited them. A few ordinary cars as well as an Armoured Personnel carrier for the Shock troopers. They made it straight for the cold store, not wasting any time except for a brief stop by the observation post to inform the police that they were taking over.

The officer in charge wasn't thrilled to let Wolf and his men go inside, but with the authorisation from the World Unification Alliance, there wasn't much he could do about it.

Exiting from each car came a squad of eight soldiers, assault rifles held tautly across body-armoured chests as they dropped to the ground. Half of each squad took up backstop positions, their assault rifles trained toward the entrance from the partial cover of the cars.

"First squad up, on line!" 'Mayhem' ordered. "Sergeant get your people in a cordon between the entrance and the truck! Watch your rear. Crisp, take point! Let's move!"

A line of troopers advanced on the main building, with small groups breaking off the main encirclement to check out the other structures as they passed.

Snipers were deployed and assumed covering positions. The men quickly encircled the cold store and surveyed the area. There were no guards.

Crisp reached the main door and nodded to his right where another man flanked him. The Sergeant arrived and tried the door and found as expected that it was locked.

"Get it open, Kent." He commanded one his men. "Keep it silent."

The man put his gun aside and bent to examine the door panel. Using a tool taken from his utility belt, he got it unlocked in just a few moments, allowing the men to enter the building.

The sergeant motioned Crisp forward. The muzzle of his assault rifle preceding him, as he stepped inside.

"Second team move up!" 'Mayhem' ordered. "Flanking positions, close quarters!"

Crisp and the Sergeant strode down the wide, empty corridor. There were crates and large boxes standing everywhere. The sergeant pried one of them open and looked inside. It was filled with weapons.

"RPGs, flame-throwers and enough ammunition to run a small war!" He noted.

Colonel Wolf addressed them via their headsets.

"Quarter and search by twos. Second team, move inside, upper level!"

A lieutenant led his squad up a stairwell to the second floor. The corridor was a mirror image of the one directly beneath. The men resumed their advance, their weapons shifted slowly from left to right and back again, covering every inch ahead every second.

On the lower floor, Crisp moved up against a door. There were voices from the inside. He nodded to the Sergeant, who waved the rest of the soldiers ahead. They assumed protective positions around the door. Very slowly he pushed the door open, a string of light crawled out between the door and the post. There were seven persons inside. They sat gathered around a table, almost like they were having a board meeting. The leader was a tall, coloured bad company man with mean facial features and sculpted with muscles. His head was clean-shaven with a trimmed beard and a nose busted beyond repair.

Crisp carefully retreated into the corridor.

"Operator," he whispered into his microphone. "Are you getting this?"

Crisp's helmet was fitted with a small camera that was linked up with the command centre.

"Yes." Came the reply. "Identification positive. That is Alexander Osborne. Freelance operator. Believed to be the mind behind the gas attack against a theatre in Pittsburgh earlier this year, as well as one of the instigators behind the riot in Baltimore. He is armed and very dangerous. Proceed with caution. Take him alive!"

Crisp nodded to the others, then kicked the door open. All eyes were drawn in their direction.

"Freeze!" The sergeant barked, training his rifle in their direction. "Keep your hands where we can see them!"

It was of no avail. His order was not obeyed. With a unanimous roar of terror, the men vaulted up from their chairs, who fell over with a vehement crack. By doing this, the men came between the shock troopers and Alexander Osborne, and he did not hesitate to seize the opportunity this human wall offered. He dashed towards the wall for the light button, and in the next moment the entire room went dark.

Three bright flashes streaked across the room. They all came from the Sergeants gun and the last place where he had seen Osborne. Shrilling cries of fear accompanied the shots. Return fire was given from all parts of the room and was followed by thuds from bodies falling to the floor. It was a complete chaos. Men staggered about and fell over the chairs.

Crisp quickly threw himself to the side, as a man ran out from the room, shooting around him like a madman.

The Sergeant triggered of a shot, and the man fell to the floor.

More thugs appear from adjoining rooms. They whipped out fully automatic machine guns and begun to fire on the assault force. Volley after volley of lead quartered the air, destroying the storage and equipment, setting fires and bursting shock troopers and thugs alike open or driving them back.

Half the defending thugs turned and begun returning fire up the stairwell. Blinding light cut open the darkness, as the squad from the upper level descend the stairs. They moved down two at a time, covering each other ritualistically by the numbers, systematically moved down everyone moving that was not part of the shock trooper-team.

Alexander Osborne had retreated into one of the large storage rooms with his five closest men.

"We'll have to shoot our way out." He said to the men as he pried open a crate with weapons. He handed them out to each man.

With determination the five men moved forward with less order than the shock troopers, but just as efficient. So concentrated where the men at shooting their way out, that they failed to notice that Alexander was no longer with them. He had dropped behind and hurried back into the storage room with the weapon crates. He begun to tape claymores and blocks of C-4 plastic explosives. All the claymore was then wired back to one radio-control relay switch that would be set of with a sequence from his phone.

Mustering all his strength, he pushed a crate away from a floor drain it had sheltered. He opened the manhole and quickly climbed down, dragging the cover back again, then hurried down the drain.

Outside the cold store the yard was crowded with sullen prisoners gathered by the shock trooper-team. Some lay wounded. Two men remained comatose despite all efforts to revive them.

"All thugs accounted for, sir." Crisp reported to Colonel Wolf. "Except for Alexander Osborne. A team is still searching for him."

"That is unacceptable!" 'Mayhem' scolded. "Osborne is our link to the Syndicate - if they are indeed involved in this. He must not get away!"

The colonel turned to regard one of the prisoners. His fingers closed around the man's chin and lifted him off the ground. He held the face tightly with both hands.

"Talk to me, scum!" He growled. "Who are you providing the weapons to?"

The thug mustered up all his confidence dredged up a squeal of outrage.

"Lay off, man! I have my rights! I won't talk outside the presence of a lawyer!"

'Mayhem' didn't settle with that for an answer.

"I don't give a damn about what rights you believe that you have!" he snarled. "I'm not a police officer, I don't abide to their rules. If you don't start feeding me some information, I will put a bullet through your head, do you understand me?"

The other soldiers threw stealthy glances at each other, this was hardly regulation. But none of them dared to intervene, too afraid of attracting the rage of the Colonel.

Lyman Wolf knew every dirty trick in a book he probably wrote on his own. He knew precisely where to apply pressure to extract as much pain as possible. The man screamed out his agony.

"I don't know!" he shouted, but the Colonel did not believe him. He applied even more pressure.

No-one really knew just how far Colonel Wolf would have gone, if not a shock trooper officer suddenly came darting out from the cold store with his men in his wake.

"Fall back!" He shouted. "It's going to blow! Move it! Out!"

The officer and his team had searched the compound for any whereabouts of Alexander Osborne and had circled the crates in the storage room when he suddenly had discovered the claymores, the C-4 explosives, and the relay switch. Immediately he had realized that there were just seconds to go before they would all be set of.

Everyone scrambled and ran for higher ground as the face of the building exploded in an eruption of sheeting and fire. Remains of the roof showered the Shock trooper vehicles and several officer's broke ranks, pulling back, as a huge fireball rolled out and leapt into the sky. The shockwave took out every window on three blocks.

From a safe distance Alexander Osborne felt contented with the result. He knew that the military did not get enough time to salvage the computers, and none of the men that was left behind knew anything of importance. There was nothing that the World Unification Alliance could tie to the Syndicate. Nothing but hunches, and hunches alone could never justify the action that had just been committed. Osborne figured that a couple of heads would be threatened to roll as direct result of this.

"What were you thinking dealing with this by your own? Three months of carefully planned undercover operations and surveillance has just gone to waste!"

The words came from Lisa Moore and was directed at Colonel Lyman Wolf. She had received a full report of the raid against the cold store from the police observatory, and the initial questioning of the prisoners revealed that they nothing of any importance.

With them in the room were Hugh Heyman, Helena Bennett and Matt Trakker, freshly arrived from Parris Island.

Matt had never seen Lisa so angry before, but what surprised him the most was that Colonel Wolf didn't put up any excuses; he acted more like he didn't think that he had done anything wrong.

"I was granted full authority to investigate the situation and charged with apprehending any criminals occupying the area." He told. "The order came directly from the Security Department of the World Unification Alliance."

"With the proper authentication codes?"

'Mayhem' confirmed, but his reply did nothing to satisfy Lisa.

"What prompted the Security Department to issuing such an order?" she inquired.

The question was not really directed to anyone present, because they couldn't possibly answer it.

Helena however had an answer.

"They didn't issue this order." She explained. "I checked up on the department that this order was supposed to have come from, and they can't confirm ever having sent it. They checked all their computers and there are no records indicating that such an order was ever sent to this address."

"If they didn't, then who did?" H.H. asked. "The order must have come from somewhere."

"Obviously, the Syndicate sent it." Matt said. "They must have learnt that the cold store was under observation, so they wanted us to do the dirty job for them by sending a counterfeited message."

"It is a possible explanation." Lisa agreed.

"That's too farfetched." 'Mayhem' disagreed. "There's too much money invested in all the weapons for the Syndicate to risk them being confiscated or destroyed."

"I would believe that the loss is acceptable as long as they can plug all possible leads." Helena theorised. "And speaking about plugging holes; we better check up on our own organisation, because someone is obviously selling information to the Syndicate."

"That's preposterous! Why would anyone here fraternize with the enemy?"

"The facts are undeniable; The Syndicate had to learn about the observation post from someone close." Lisa pushed.

Matt nodded in agreement. He had been thinking in the same lines.

"Who knew about this operation?" He asked Lisa.

"Very few people." She replied. "Myself, the men in the police observation post and a few high ranked officers in the department."

"Then an internal investigation should be in order." Matt suggested. "Someone of these men must have informed the Syndicate."

"I'll get some trusty people to work on it." H.H. promised. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. That will be all."

All but one of Heymans co-workers left the office, Matt remained in his chair.

"I'm concerned with at the ease the Syndicate managed to manipulate us." He confessed. "They easily managed to kill two flies in one stroke. They covered up a potential security risk at the same time as they gave us a lot of negative press."

He handed over the morning's newspaper to Hugh. The first page did not shed any details in describing how troops operating under the World Unification Alliance had put an entire neighbourhood in danger by turning the Kenner district into a war zone. The fire department was still busy with final extinction of the fire. Damage in property alone would cost the city an approximately one hundred sixty thousand dollars.

H.H. read it through before dropping it on his desk.

"Some of our most local critics has already begun to describe the World Unification Alliance as eccentric cowboys that shots first and think later." He grunted.

"Jefferson Pratt, the owner of the Cold Store has officially joined the bandwagon." Matt informed. "He was on the news this morning and he said that this was what was to be expected when the state was allowed to meddle with things that didn't concern them."

"That was an unusual statement." H.H. snorted.

"Not if you know Pratt. He is infamous for denouncing left wing politics, liberalism and that the government is redistributing significant amounts of social spending on military, education, economic regulation to prevent poverty. He strongly believes that individual and corporate rights supersede the needs of the society. He's was in the limelight a few years ago after some garbage directed at a democratic opponent when they both ran for senator."

H.H. gave him a long side-glance.

"Do you believe that Pratt could be part of the Syndicate?" He asked.

Matt gave this a thought.

"I wouldn't rule out that people with this type of political belief could sympathize with the Syndicate." He said slowly. "But if we were to start investigating everyone who's political belief differs from the standard American belief, then we would find ourselves barking up the wrong tree on more than one occasion. I think we have to use more non-discriminating methods to sniff up our pray."

H.H. nodded his approval.

"I agree. I'm glad that we are on the same level here."

Both men got up and walked out of the office, past the desk where Helena was busy on the computer, typing out a full report on the incident in the Seabrook.

"I'm intrigued at what the internal investigation will result in." Matt said. "It will tell us quite a bit about how our opposition works. If the investigation comes up empty, they do in fact have an inside man in our organization that led the investigation astray. It could also go in the opposite direction and expose someone of less importance, possibly a dupe, a scapegoat to protect the insider."

"Then this internal investigation is just a waste of time?" H.H. asked.

"Not at all. I have no doubt that it will stir things up a little. It will tell our inside man that we are alert, so the octopus might have to retract a few of his tentacles to protect himself. Even if he remains safe in his hide-out, he will still pose a lesser threat until he figures that the coast is clear enough to stretch out with his tentacles again."

H.H. walked Matt all the way to the elevator. Matt stepped inside, and H.H. bid him good-bye.

"You are a real asset to the department." He told. "Andy was right in suggesting you."

"Thank you, Sir."

The last thing Matt heard when the doors slid shut was a slightly annoyed outburst from H.H.:

"Call me Hugh!"