Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 239



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Prison Cell Alpha

Shortly after we rescued the guards from Prison Cell Charlie, the long-awaited reinforcements arrived at Big Rock.

According to Pearson and his party, who brought us coffee and water while the smell of tear gas and smoke still lingered in the air, the scale of the reinforcements was enormous.

About 180 officers, including Wisconsin State Sheriff’s Department officers, FBI, DEA, U.S. Marshals Service officers, and officers from surrounding cities such as Yorkville and Aurora, joined in to help contain the chaos.

The prison parking lot, as well as the open area where we had stopped the bulldozers, was packed with vehicles from each agency, BearCats, and Bears (a larger version of the BearCat armored vehicle, a law enforcement version of the US military’s MRAP armored vehicle with strong blast resistance).

Although it seemed like a little late, local authorities took all measures.

Police checkpoints have been set up on all major roads leading to the prison, and patrol helicopters are flying over the area in case of emergency.

“Now that the reinforcements have arrived, we can cool off a bit and head to Chicago to find that Nick Gomez guy.”

Grimes spoke absentmindedly, looking out at the numerous flashing lights outside the windows, which were almost entirely covered with wire mesh.

Then, Team Leader Dawson pours water on his head and face and responds.

“Let’s get out of this shithole as fast as we can, before we have to take care of the shitty situation in Cell Alpha.”

As I look at him, Dawson wags his finger at me and says,

“I heard Snyder’s men in that cell are armed with pistols and rifles? If we try to rescue those hostages, our entire team will be torn apart by the 100-meter section full of armed men. Let’s call in the HRT (FBI Hostage Rescue Team) and let those idiots at Big Rock handle it.”

However, Preston laughs at those words and continues.

“Still, compared to the Taliban camp, the operation earlier was worth it, right, Jim? It brought back old memories, and it was fun in its own way.”

After saying that, Preston throws his fist at Dawson, who bumps his fist with his own and says,

“Fucking A~!”

Afterwards, the men exchanged fist bumps with each other, sharing a sense of relief at the belated completion of the mission and everyone’s safe return.

Shit, I’m so out of my mind that I can’t even remember the second multiplication table right now, but these guys…

We were taking a breather in the hallway between the operations and prison cells when we saw the newly joined SWAT team members walking around the main building with the correctional officers.

It appeared as if the advance party was joined by Illinois State Sheriff’s Department SWAT officers who were guarding the entire operation while we were doing our live show.

“Now that the fools’ shameful operation is over, they’re finally coming in droves.”

Team Leader Dawson muttered as he looked at the local SWAT team in the hallway across from him.

We watched them move busily while drinking cold coffee.

Then, a group of people heading to the control room in the operation building see us and stop walking.

A middle-aged man in a suit looks at us and asks loudly among several police officers and people wearing bulletproof vests with FBI and DEA patches.

“Jake Fisher’s people?”

Anyone who knows our Irish grandpa, who now occupies the office of the IRS Chicago branch manager, knows that he is a high-ranking official in the federal agency.

We were sitting on the bench by the window, and the old men remained quiet, but I stood up.

Then, he answered while walking a few steps toward the group of old men in the lobby.

“This is Chris Kim, Field Agent in Charge of IRS SWAT.”

“I’m Carl Halstead from the Department of Homeland Security. I’m in charge of the Big Rock Prison recapture operation.”

I felt like saying, ‘Good luck!’ and stepping back.

But, looking at the expressions on the faces of that gentleman and the people around him, it seems like it’s not an atmosphere that would allow us to back out of this situation.

“I heard all about the IRS SWAT on the way here. They’re great, they’re great.”

As he says that, the inspiration scans me and the other men sitting behind me.

I didn’t have time to react to the sudden compliment before I responded to him.

“thank you.”

But after saying that, there is an unexpected silence.

The Department of Homeland Security official Carl Halstead, his staff, and the field chiefs from each agency stare at us without saying a word.

What the heck is this ‘fucking’ vibe?

A moment later, Team Leader Decker, sensing something ominous, glanced at the agents sitting on either side of the bench, and they stood up one by one.

Only after all ten of the men stood up and lined up behind me did Mr. Halstead speak.

“What are you waiting for, IRS SWAT?”

After saying that, he points with his chin in the direction of the prison control room.

Running away to Chicago with Nick Gomez was a breeze, man.

* * *

Inside the control room, which was as large as a basketball court, in addition to the Big Rock people, there were also the field managers and senior staff from each organization that had come to support us today.

On one side of the control room, the Big Rock Operations team was briefing the SWAT commanders who would be supporting the lockdown and surveillance missions outside of Big Rock, as well as in Confinement Block Alpha and Confinement Block Charlie.

And in this section, where the CCTV screens for each prison cell were installed, and where there was a large console, a briefing on the prison cells was in progress under the watchful eyes of Carl Helstead and the field managers of each agency.

“Ward Bravo is currently under minimal supervision and staffed by security personnel, while Ward Charlie is undergoing final cleanup following the IRS SWAT rescue operation, with the insurgents neutralized and the current inmates being herded back to their cells.”

Still, on CCTV footage from the Charlie Block in the operating cell, the situation was seen being sorted out, as Deputy Warden Glenn Franklin had described.

The atmosphere in the Bravo cell appears peaceful, not so much because of the control of the Big Rock guards, but because of the control of Friendly Belle, who is said to have killed Saddam Hussein’s sons when she was young.

Except for a few inmates cleaning the corridors with mops, most of the black inmates were seen on CCTV cameras reading books or doing simple bodyweight exercises in their cells.

Compared to Prison Cell Charlie, where he had been fighting countless hordes of zombies just a few dozen minutes ago, it seemed like a completely different world.

Now, only the Alpha wing remains, the biggest problem in the Big Rock Prison situation.

All the CCTV screens were blacked out, so the Black Hornet flown by Strauss was now entering the place where the internal situation could not be seen.

Soon, if the infiltration flight is successful, the real-time transmission video will appear on the surveillance equipment screen here.

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Just as the first cavemen watched the first bonfire they made, everyone, including Halstead, watched the transmission screen of the Black Hornet piloted by Strauss.

I can’t help but snicker at the sight of a tablet PC placed on a console and nearly 20 people staring at it without even breathing.

At that moment, I started hearing the sound of a toilet flushing from my smartphone.

This is a call from our Chicago branch manager, Jake Fisher.

As soon as I take out my phone, our uncles start shaking their heads from side to side or waving their hands.

It was a sign to refuse further participation in operations.

“This is Agent Kim!”

Since this is the first time he’s been involved in a very large and important case, he starts by getting down to business without even asking how we’re doing.

“Have you secured Nick Gomez’s recruit?”

Damn, shouldn’t we be checking if Gomez’s new recruits are alive or dead?

Anyway~.

“We’re searching now, Jake.”

“Didn’t Nick Gomez get caught up in the riots and get hurt?”

“No, we did check the casualties, Nick Gomez was not there. When the rioters stormed the prison armory and escaped through the main building, all the casualties were skinheads and guards….”

“Don’t come!”

What is this? Before I can ask again, Branch Manager Fisher speaks again in his normal voice.

“Without Nick Gomez’s testimony, this case we’re leading doesn’t work. This could be the largest gang bust in Chicago involving all of the federal agencies. So, if Gomez is alive, don’t even think about coming back to Chicago until we have his body in custody, Kim! I told you in advance, you’re going to work with Halstead.”

As if they could read the mood just by looking at my expression, my teammates, who had been watching me with bated breath, began to turn away one by one.

“Jake, but the situation here right now is just too….”

The inspiration hung up the phone before I could finish speaking.

As always, like our Korean elders, he just said what he wanted to say and hung up.

Ugh~~~~!

I barely managed to control my rising anger as I counted backwards from ten to one in my head.

I feel like calling Mr. Fisher right now.

So, I want to get all worked up over why they’d lock up such an important witness in some shitty federal prison in the middle of nowhere, where the worst criminals are huddled together like scum in a hodgepodge of soups.

Our old men now avoid eye contact with me and look at the tablet PC where Strauss’ Black Hornet transmission video is floating with a resigned expression.

I also let out a deep sigh, then walked over to Halstead and his party, watching the Black Hornet footage over their shoulders.

But soon, Amy, who had been somewhere, came up behind me and whispered.

“Hey, we decided to just take care of Charlie’s situation in the prison cell and then leave, right? What are you guys doing here?”

I didn’t say anything and just looked over my shoulder at my stern older sister with a frown on my face.

Then, Amy, who immediately understood the mood, gave me a ‘perky’ look with just her eyes and stepped back.

“The Black Hornet is now transmitting internal footage from Prison Cell Alpha!”

Strauss relayed a report that an 18-gram ultra-small reconnaissance drone had finally entered Prison Cell Alpha through the ‘ventilation duct’ connecting the main building to Prison Cell Alpha.

Soon, the transmission video appeared on a large screen that took up one wall of the control room.

A completely different level of chaos was taking place in the section of the neo-Nazi and skinhead bastards, Bravo and Charlie, the prison cells we had visited.

They tore up bed mattresses, washbasins, toilets, and other items and placed them as obstacles in various places along the 100-meter-long corridor between the fire entrance of the prison ward and the on-site control room on the other side.

It certainly seemed like a countermeasure against internal suppression by troops with real firearms, not by suppression teams with things like tasers and batons.

“We are preparing for a gun battle by placing obstacles at 20 to 30 meter intervals.”

Strauss pilots the Black Hornet and explains the situation to everyone.

Gunmen were loitering around the cells, some were sitting around a large table, making Molotov cocktails as if they were making cocktails.

The Black Hornet, which was moving forward while scanning the figures like that, suddenly stopped.

Then, I flew backwards and looked at which cell I was looking at again.

Immediately afterwards, the Black Hornet’s camera zoomed in on some metal containers that looked like large travel trunks, and after a while, sighs could be heard here and there.

Strauss’ report follows immediately.

“An explosive device that they seem to have brought from a construction site has been found in cell number 25, row 1!”

Around the five containers stacked up, three skinheads wearing prison guard uniform shirts and carrying shotguns could be seen.

But, a moment later, something even more strange than what had just happened happened.

“Hooray mooray!”

Just as Mr. Strauss sighed in a whisper, the scene he was looking at appeared on the large screen for everyone to see.

Brad Snyder and his goons were standing there with their heads held high.

“Have the authors discovered the reconnaissance drone just now?”

Halstead took off his glasses and asked, but no one answered.

“Are you sure the authors are looking at the drone right now?”

When asked again by inspiration, Strauss answered immediately.

“Yes, it looks like they’re watching the Black Hornet right now.”

The next moment, Team Leader Dawson’s voice is heard.

“Fuck! What the hell is that Gomez guy doing over there?”

Nick Gomez is captured in the corner of the screen, pointed at by Dawson.

Damn it, whether it was Old Halstead or Old Fisher, we should have just taken a quick nap in Cell Charlie and headed straight for Chicago.

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