Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 230



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Big Rock Federal Prison

“You are 17 clicks (kilometers) from your current location to the ‘Big Rock’ Federal Penitentiary! All conditions are clear so far!”

We report to the joint situation room of the FBI and our IRS Criminal Investigation via satellite relay radio, and soon Torres’ voice is heard.

“Lazer That! Don’t relax until you reach your destination, Wizard Zero!”

“Stop nagging me!”

“Shut up and do as I say, Wizard Zero!”

Torres is right in my shoes.

I laughed at that and looked behind us again through the car’s rear camera screen and the passenger-side side mirror.

For an hour, five large trailer trucks have passed us, leaving our SUV the only driver on this quiet two-lane road.

There’s nothing but bushes on both sides of the road, so if we weren’t on this special mission, it would be easy to mistake ourselves for driving.

But in the large SUV that I, Team Leader Decker, Strauss, and Preston are riding, we are carrying one very special guest, the one who created the current situation.

The guest is a man named Mick Gomez, who was briefly released from federal prison this morning in Chicago federal court to testify against three gangs in Illinois and Chicago, and is now back there.

Interest is the accountant for three confederate gangs that are trying to take over Central and South Chicago, but are now being destroyed by all federal agencies.

He was sitting handcuffed in the back seat, which had bulletproof plates installed on all sides, while the three of us were closely guarding him from the front and left and right.

Although prisoner transport is obviously the job of the Federal Bureau of Prisons or the US Marshal, the reason we stepped in was because of a special order from Jake Fisher, the head of the IRS Chicago branch.

Fisher was leading a joint FBI, DEA, and IRS investigation to bust three drug lords in Chicago, Illinois, and seize $38 million in illicit funds.

And in that desperate operation to dismantle the gang, this person who looked like a commoner was the key figure.

What more could it be like, since he was the person who controlled the flow of funds between the three gang organizations?

At this very moment, we are driving down a quiet country road with this ‘hot’ target of three major Chicago gangs in the backseat of our vehicle.

Given all the craziness our SWAT teams have experienced so far, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if an RPG7 rocket came flying out of the bushes right now.

So, the silence and peace of this moment is really, really annoying.

But about 20 minutes later, what I expected started to happen.

A van appears on the rear camera screen mounted on the dashboard, and Team Leader Decker immediately transmits a warning.

“A van came into the road!”

The vehicle in question suddenly pulls out of the junction behind us and instead of moving into the passing lane (lane 1), follows us at a distance behind us.

As I was trying to broadcast the situation over the radio, another van suddenly pulled up at the next junction.

The second van then speeds behind and joins the van in front.

“A second van pulled out of the same road junction and followed behind the first van.”

At Team Leader Decker’s additional report, Preston and Strauss in the backseat pulled the charging handles of their MP7 submachine gun and HK416 rifle.

“Wizard Zero! Two vans have appeared at the road junction and are following us at a distance of about 100 meters!”

In response to my report via satellite, Torres, who is in the FBI Situation Room in the Chicago Federal Building, asks me immediately.

“Is this a situation where a gunfight is expected?”

At those words, Team Leader Decker and I stared at the rear camera screen.

It was obvious without even thinking about it that two old, worn-out vans were following us, maintaining a certain distance and speed.

I pressed the headset key and answered.

“It wouldn’t seem strange if a gunfight broke out at any moment.”

“Razor that, Wizard Zero!”

After I loaded my guns, I pulled the charging handle of Decker’s MP7 submachine gun, which was holding the steering wheel, and placed it in the space between the driver and passenger seats.

Then I looked over the seat at Gomez.

Like us, he was wearing a bulletproof plate carrier and a bulletproof helmet on his head.

A frightened former gangster accountant asks Preston and Strauss, who are looking around to check the situation behind them.

“Who is following us?”

Before I could answer that question, Team Leader Decker sent a warning over the radio.

“The vans behind us are starting to close in! All call signs, prepare for emergencies!”

An emergency situation~, that’s a nice word, an emergency situation.

You could just call it an open gunfight.

I immediately pressed the sunroof open button on the top of the car, and soon the large sunroof glass opened and icy wind poured into the car.

Immediately afterwards, I got up from the passenger seat and put my upper body out of the car.

It was so cold I wanted to get back in the car right away, but I had no choice.

Although he didn’t aim the gun directly, he kept an eye on the strange vehicles behind us with the HK416 mounted on his shoulder.

“The vans are approaching within 50 meters!”

Judging by the creaky tails of the old vans, they looked like they had been stolen from some neighborhood by some gangster.

“The vans are approaching within 30 meters! Everyone, prepare yourself!”

As I listened to Team Leader Decker’s voice, I watched the guys driving the van.

Our fears are further confirmed when we see the sight of those men with their faces covered by mufflers.

The lead van follows us, maintaining a constant speed, but the van behind suddenly moves into the passing lane and starts to increase speed.

I set the gun control to rapid fire.

Our SUV has bulletproof plates on all the doors, but that doesn’t mean the body has the same level of protection as a Bearcat.

So, if you trust your mount like you would when riding a Bearcat and return fire while watching the pups shooting, you may end up in trouble.

The tactic favored by these guys, and by extension all gang members, is to get as close to their target as possible, open all the doors of the van, and fire a volley of shots.

As if to prove my suspicions correct, the second van that had pulled into the passing lane switches to cruising speed on the left side of our SUV.

I can see the guys inside the van talking about something while looking at our vehicle.

Strauss’s voice is heard from the rear left seat over the radio.

“There’s a second van driving right next to our car on the left! It looks like they’re going to launch a surprise attack!”

In that report, Mr. Coulson’s voice appears on the radio in the FBI situation room.

“If necessary, you can wipe them out before they launch a preemptive strike, Wizard Zero.”

Easier said than done~.

If some kid tries to eat me later and starts talking about excessive suppression or something, who will take responsibility?

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m the type of person who’ll just sit back and let their surprise attack destroy me.

However, the van on our left passed our SUV without firing a shot.

Then, it enters our lane from 50 to 60 meters ahead and starts driving at a constant speed while maintaining a distance from us.

Then, Preston’s voice appears on the radio.

“The van that was following us from behind has moved to the left passing lane and is accelerating! Everyone, keep an eye out for the Tangos’ vehicle!”

True to his warning, the van that had been following us cuts into our left lane and soon begins to drive alongside us.

Now that they’ve secured angles to fire concentrated fire from the front and our left flank, it’s only a matter of time before things blow up.

Our uncles’ voices are heard one after another on the wireless network.

“The first van is driving at a constant speed in the passing lane and is watching our vehicle.”

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“Second van ahead is about to slow down! All call signs, prepare for what’s to come!”

Even as our Tahoe SUV drives by with its lights flashing, they stand ready to shoot right in front of us, seemingly oblivious to our identities.

Given the distance the two vans are keeping from us, I doubt they will be using 40mm grenades or anti-tank rockets, which require sufficient fuze range.

Instead, they’ll be watching us from inside those vehicles, armed with automatic weapons that fire hundreds of rounds per minute.

As I concentrate on that thought, I get the illusion that I can hear their breathing in my ears.

“They’re going to open fire soon! Everyone, prepare! Everyone, prepare!”

Everyone responds to Team Leader Decker’s message.

“Wizard Three (Preston), copy!”

“Wizard Four (Strauss), Roger!”

I already had my finger on the gun trigger, so I couldn’t respond by pressing the headset key.

Now, from my position, I could see the guys fidgeting inside the two vans.

I stood there with the gun pointed between my twelve o’clock and nine o’clock positions, in a bitterly cold wind that was enough to strip the skin off my cheeks.

Whether it’s the rear door of the van opening at the 12 o’clock position or the side sliding door of the van opening at the 9 o’clock position, I’m about to unleash an entire magazine of bullets on the first guy who tries to make a move.

As we were watching them with bated breath, a familiar sound suddenly rang out from around us.

Beep beep beep!

Beep!

Beep beep beep!

Cars with flashing lights appeared behind our vehicle, accompanied by loud digital sirens.

Two Bearcats carrying Silver Team and Cobalt Team joined the scene, using flashing lights and sirens to alert the intruders to their presence.

As the armored vehicles drove side by side, right behind our SUV, a moment later the van positioned to our left picked up speed and continued forward.

The same thing happened to the van that was blocking our lane in front of us.

As the two vans attempt to speed away from the area, the BearCats begin to pursue them, sirens blaring just in time.

“Citadel One (Team Leader Dawson) here! As of now, we will begin pursuing the intruders’ vehicles!”

Team Leader Dawson’s voice came over the radio, and soon their own road chase ensued.

As the four vehicles disappeared from our view, I looked over the seat and asked Gomez.

“Are you okay, Mr. Gomez?”

“Yes! Yes! But, just now, what did they try to do to us in that van? Shouldn’t we be heading back to downtown Chicago right now?”

I smiled at the scared gang accountant, who was as frightened as we had planned, and answered.

“The IRS SWAT team will escort you safely to Big Rock. Don’t worry.”

“So, what happens after that?”

He asked me with an expression on his face like he was going to faint at any moment, and I was secretly delighted.

The reason is that we wanted to make sure that the three gangs were ultimately going to take him out, regardless of Gomez’s refusal to testify in federal court this morning.

We knew that if we were to transport Gomez from the federal courthouse in one of these SUVs, they would come at us like this.

So we used a deception tactic where we had a few miles and a little bit of time difference, and then the Bearcats with fully armed Silver Team and Cobalt Team followed us.

And luckily, both the gang’s hired gunmen and Gomez took our bait.

Now, all we had to do was watch how those who took the bait we threw would move in the way we wanted.

If this guy were to testify again in federal court later, and if he were to capture and rob the gang members in the vans that showed up earlier, it was clear as day that the situation would change drastically going forward.

Of course, that’s true in theory, but you won’t know what actually happens until you experience it yourself.

* * *

While Gomez was being frisked and returned to his cell by federal prison guards, I spoke to Mr. Coulson outside the room.

“How’s Gomez feeling, Kim?”

“First of all, he was clearly aware that the gang was after him, Pops.”

“Still, he’s probably quite shocked that the drug-addicted bastards brought his big brother, who he raised, to court, so he won’t open his mouth right away. Didn’t you see him in court earlier? He was so deep in thought that he looked like he was going to faint at any moment, and then he immediately shut his mouth.”

“Did Silver Team and Cobalt Team apprehend those who were trying to attack us on Route 30?”

As I ask that, Team Leader Decker, Strauss, and Preston, who were nearby, approach me.

“They caught them all without firing a single shot… They said there were six gunmen in two vans.”

“Are you in a gang?”

“No, Kim! They all look like hired gunmen from outside.”

Decker and his crew could hear Director Coulson’s voice coming from my phone even though I wasn’t on speaker mode.

So, right after Coulson answers, Team Leader Decker pokes his head toward my smartphone and says,

“Director, now that the gangsters have found out that Gomez is being held in this prison, it’s not going to be a safe place for him anymore. Shouldn’t we do something about it?”

Coulson immediately responded to those words.

“I’ve talked to the federal courts and the Justice Department about that, and I think they’ll probably hold him there in solitary confinement for a few days while they negotiate Gomez’s deposition, Fred (Decker).”

Team Leader Decker nodded at those words and stepped back to let me finish the call.

“What are your next instructions, Dave (Director Coulson)?”

“Silver Team and Cobalt Team have handed over the gunmen in the van to the FBI, so they’ll be heading there soon. You can wait there, meet up, and then head over to Chicago immediately.”

“Razor that!”

As I was about to end the call, Mr. Coulson suddenly started talking urgently and trying to stop me.

“Kim! Kim!”

“Yes, Director.”

“How was your day? While you were escorting Gomez there?”

What are you trying to say, speaking in such an inappropriate, kind tone?

“What do you mean, Dave?”

“Hey, since you got Gomez there today without firing a shot, I want you to be quiet and be nice while you work on this case. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“yes?”

“Damn, don’t you understand what I’m saying? Just like when we were escorting Gomez there today, I’m saying please don’t shoot people or blow things up until this case is solved, you lunatic.”

I got playful and arrogant and started acting strange again.

“yes?”

Then, right away, the sound of Mr. Coulson’s lid opening and saying ‘Shh, fuckin’ came out of the phone, and I quickly ended the call.

Three old men snicker at my appearance.

But, as I was putting my smartphone back into my plate carrier after finishing the call, a dozen or so people wearing orange prison uniforms appeared in the passageway near this office building.

As they walked along a passage surrounded by chain-link fences, white men with their heads all shaved were walking along a passage surrounded by chain-link fences on all sides.

But, one of them is staring at us through the office window.

The face of the man who was looking at me with his eyes wide open seemed somewhat familiar, and soon Strauss noticed him too and muttered in a small voice.

“Shh!”

ah!

This is really shit, shit!

I can’t believe I’m seeing that kid here again.

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