This chapter was really hard for me to write. Normally I write everything in one 2-3 hour sitting. I've been working on this one for days. Some of it was trying to figure out how much of the "chatter" I should write. Getting into white supremacist heads isn't fun. It's why I ended up going with a basic sketch and few actual excerpts. Much of what I know about this is from having to clean out a database of racist trolls recently. Plenty of usernames or email addresses advocating genocide of groups of people they don't like. Everything became much worse because this weekend, an activist was attacked and thrown down the stairs while infiltrating a meeting of closet white supremacists. It was scary as hell.

Recap: Stephanie gets clearance to attend the meeting, but things get tense when she can't stop giggling at the FBI agent's name.

I'd say I'm not going to bore you with details about what was in the posts, but that would be misleading. The truth is, I'm not going to horrify you with it, and I don't want to think about it myself anymore than I had to. I mean, I grew up in a neighborhood straight out of the fifties. Casual racism was all over. My mom was convinced that if you weren't Italian you just weren't quite up to snuff, and my Dad's occasional referring to Ranger or his men by their race was cringe-inducing. I'd put up with it my whole life, and figured those attitudes would die along with their generation.

This was something else. This was...ugly. In some ways the usernames were the biggest shock. People named themselves with racial slurs, praising of Hitler, even calls for genocide. This was how they decided they wanted others to identify them. I mean, I don't like squirrels, but I'd never pick a username like GasTheSquirells, or KillAllFluff-Tails.

I noticed that a lot of the usernames ended with either 14, 88, or both. It struck me as odd. People usually pick a number that means a lot to them, like a birth year, or a random number that is just the next sequential availible number for their prefered username. On dating sites, lots of clueless guys pick 69, assuming they are the cleverest person ever.

"Why all the 14s and 88s?" I worked up the courage to ask. "I'm guessing this group isn't made up primarily of 28-year-olds. The grammar and poor spelling tells me teens and early twenties."

Mary nodded at me. "The 14 is the number of words in one of their mantras about securing the future for themselves as white people. They use it as code. The 88 is because H is the eighth letter of the alphabet. It's short for Heil Hitler. Like any gang, they like having their own lingo, a secret language they can use around other people and not be understood. Some of it we know well, but they come up with new codes and jargon pretty quickly. And you're right, mostly they are under 25, poorly educated, and angry at the world."

I nodded, feeling a little sick to my stomach. Mary skipped over threads that were mostly just complaining about groups they didn't like. "Thug" was about the nicest term they used, but it was obvious they were using it in place of the N-word. The rest of the language was worse, including racial slurs I don't think anyone had been using for 50 years. She concentrated on the threads that talked about the upcoming rally. Some of it was complaining in general, but some talked about "things needing to be done" and "taking action". Those were the ones that obviously worried the agents the most. They kept re-reading them and trying to pick apart anything that might give details.

After 3 hours my stomach rumbled audibly, embarrassing me as it had come in a lull in the conversation. Ranger came to the rescue though. "Seems it's a good time to take a lunch break. Should we meet back here at 1300 hours?"

Everyone else agreed, and Ranger and I joined Agent Mankiller and Frank for lunch at the Cafeteria. It seems those two had been pretty good friends when he worked for the Secret Service, going back years.

While they were talking, Agent Mankiller always kept an eye on her laptop, her eyes moving back and forth like a cartoon typewriter. Ranger and I grabbed lunch (he skipped the hummus) and sat down with them. Agent Mankiller asked me to call her Mary, possibly because she was tired of the giggling, and we talked some more about her work. Frank and Ranger chatted as much as they normally did. Namely, about as much as two strangers who didn't speak a common language and have their jaws wired shut do when in a library under a "No Talking" sign.

It's a wonder I ever get any information out of him at all.

Mary showed me what she was working on. In addition to the monitoring of the main forums and chat rooms, she had also hacked into the private messages, and was scanning them. Suddenly her body went still and she stopped talking, leaning into the screen.

"What is it?" I asked, looking at the screen myself.

"Two of them who seem to be the ringleaders are working on arranging a meeting right now. If we can catch them there, we may be able to stop this before it starts."

All four of us stared at the screen as the lines formed.

WhiteMakesRight88: we need 2 talk bout this in person, nvr no whos listnin

Pepe14: im game. where/whan?

WhiteMakesRight88: 2day. 1488. Hitler & Jew.

Pepe14: Ill be waring a green scarf.

WhiteMakesRight88: Red sweater. CU then.

For a moment we all waited, but it seemed the conversation was over. I glanced at Mary. She seemed to be thinking, then she pulled up a map of Philadelphia.

"So we have a time and a place, but in code. We figure out where this is, and we can bring them in."

"Philadelphia streets are numbered, 1st street is near the river, and the numbers increase as you go west." Ranger explained to Mary. "Hitler & Jew sounds like an intersection. You said they like the numbers 14 and 88?"

"Yes, though 14 doesn't have anything specific to do with Hitler. Do the street numbers go up to 88?" Mary asked.

"No. 69th street is the edge of the city. What about other numbers they associate with him?"

"8 and 18, for the A and H in his initials. And 4/20 for his birthday."

"That gives us four numbered streets to cover, and we don't know the cross street yet."

Ranger and Mary were tossing ideas back and forth, but a thought came to me as I stared at the map.

"Mary, can I see that for a moment?" I asked, wanting to check something. She nodded and scooted it over to me. I looked at the screen, zooming in to see the businesses that would confirm my suspicion.

"8th and Sansom." I said, with as much confidence as I could muster. Everyone looked at me, and I started feeling self-conscious.

"This section of Sansom is known as Jewelers Row. Jew-elers. And one of the stereotypes about Jewish people..."

"Is that they are involved in the jewelry business." Mary jumped in to finish my sentence. "Stephanie, that's brilliant! It would have taken us forever to figure that out."

"I think you have about two and a half hours." I continued, feeling more confident. "If 1488 is the time, it makes sense it would be 88 minutes after 1400 hours, which would be 1528. About 3:30 PM for those of us who use normal time." Seems like putting up with Ranger using military time for everything was paying off. I'd gotten used to doing a lot of converting and subtracting, and did it automatically whenever I saw a 4 digit number now.

"We need to get back to the others, and plan stakeouts to catch these guys." Mary said as she scooped up her computer and untouched lunch.

As we rushed back to the conference room, Ranger pulled me back and whispered in my ear, "I don't say this nearly enough. Proud of you Babe."