Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 240



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Prison Cell Alpha

“Damn, how the hell do they even detect such a tiny reconnaissance drone?”

Deputy Director Franklin asks, pointing to the white bastards on the screen, and you can hear his voice shaking.

Snyder, with five men armed with M4 and M14 rifles standing behind him, pointed his pistol at the correctional officers seated near the field control room.

Then, he brought the prison guard’s walkie-talkie, which he was holding in his other hand, towards the counter.

“Control room, come out!”

Snyder’s voice is heard simultaneously on the radios of Warden Pearson and other guards here.

For a moment, more than 30 people in this large control room all held their breath and listened to the sound.

Pearson took the radio from his waistband and handed it to the deputy chief.

The deputy director swallowed hard, pressed a key on his radio, and answered.

“Snyder! I’m the deputy director.”

“Not you! Please replace someone else, Deputy Director.”

“Currently, the person in charge of Big Rock here is me, Deputy Director Snyder.”

But then that neo-Nazi bastard says something no one expected.

“Please change the head of IRS SWAT, Deputy Director.”

Everyone was watching him on the big screen, listening to his voice.

I felt like the Snyder guy on the screen was staring right at me.

So I approached the deputy chief, got his radio, and spoke to Snyder.

“This is Agent Chris Kim, head of IRS SWAT. What are you doing, Snyder?”

“Hey, man! What’s up?”

A kid who wants to drown himself in a toilet greets me while making exaggerated gestures that black rappers make when they belt out their lyrics.

I wanted to say “Fuck you!” in Korean to this Tennessee rice paddy field thug, but I swallowed the words and said calmly.

“Snyder! Release the hostages and surrender your weapons! The entire Big Rock is surrounded by hundreds of federal agents and state troopers. Not a single inmate is going to leave Big Rock, let alone Illinois. Block Charlie is under control now, and all the Hispanics are chewing their fingernails in their cells. You’d better give up and surrender your weapons.”

Now that I think about it, I feel like I’m no longer just an office tax collector, but a special agent for a federal agency.

Suddenly, I feel proud.

But, all the pride and joy flew away when Snyder responded.

“I heard that Signor Gomez (Nick Gomez) here is a very important witness for the IRS and the FBI. Why don’t you come and get him, IRS agents?”

Snyder points a pistol at someone sitting next to the guards.

A moment later, one of Snyder’s men made the man with his back turned towards the Black Hornet.

It was Nick ‘Fucking’ Gomez.

“Damn, I guess I shouldn’t go home quickly.”

As Amy says this, she takes a picture of Nick Gomez on the big screen with her smartphone camera.

I feel like screaming that I’m going to storm into Detention Center Alpha and turn you all into a beehive, but when I see the hostages on the screen, I shut my mouth.

I glanced at the old man Halstead, the deputy warden, Warden Pearson, and the Illinois State Sheriff’s Department chief standing on my left and right.

Everyone is watching my every move with tense expressions, and it’s so burdensome.

“IRS Agent Chris Kim, are you listening?”

썅놈의 새끼가 내 대답을 재촉한다.

“I’m listening, Snyder!”

“Why don’t you turn prison Alpha upside down, just like you tore down my church in the woods in Tennessee and tore down my antique Sherman tank? If you set foot in here one step, I’ll blow up all the hostages with dynamite so they won’t be able to tell who’s who.”

People who have no idea what happened between Snyder’s gang and our IRS SWAT look at me quizzically.

But I barely suppressed my surging anger and spoke back to Snyder.

“Hey, Snyder!”

“Tell me, Agent.”

I tried to appease him, but it didn’t work.

The anger inside me explodes like acne on my daughter, Jung Yu-jeong, at the Koreatown car center.

I spoke to him, gripping the radio so tightly that I thought I might break it.

“If you harm Gomez and the guards even a little, Snyder, you and your gang will not be safe. I will tear out every single hair on your head, every single cell in your skin, and I will destroy you, Snyder. I don’t know about anything else, but I promise you that, you shithead!”

As soon as I finished saying that, the deputy director shouted, “God damn it!” and snatched the radio away from me.

The people in charge of the scene all looked at me and murmured in surprise at my sudden remark that seemed to openly declare war on neo-Nazi thugs.

Even Halstead looked at me with an expression of astonishment.

Damn, didn’t my Irish grandpa ever tell me I was such a loser?

Amy grumbles and pulls me from behind, then drives me towards the control room door.

Some of our team members surround me and accompany me.

As I walk out of the control room, surrounded by Team Leader Dawson, Preston, and Grimes, the Deputy Director begins to talk to Snyder over the radio, trying to calm him down.

Agent Kim is struggling to say that’s not what she’s trying to say, and it’s embarrassing to even listen to her.

As I was walking out of the control room before the higher-ups from the other agencies could really start giving me a hard time, Dawson grabbed my arm, chuckled, and said,

“Jesus, Kim!”

Yeah, it’s a Jesus Christ situation, really.

* * *

We took a breather in our Bearcat, munching on energy bars and chips.

Strauss, who escaped from the control room late, lets out a “whoosh, whoosh” noise as soon as he gets into the car.

As me, Team Leader Decker, Preston and Amy look at him, he places the Black Hornet carry-on bag on the floor and says,

“Brad Snyder, that murder fucker blew my Black Hornet up with a shotgun.”

At those words, Team Leader Decker, sitting in the passenger seat, asked him.

“Then how do you understand the situation inside Prison Cell Alpha?”

“The ATF Illinois branch’s SWAT team is trying to send a priest reconnaissance drone in, but I’m not sure if that will work.”

Mr. Strauss answers, then opens the energy bar package and takes a bite, but then suddenly stops.

Then he looks at me and says:

“Kim! The suit guy at DHS (Carl Halstead) wants our IRS SWAT to be on the rescue mission, but the Illinois Sheriff’s Office and the FBI are adamantly against it, saying Kim is crazy. So, I think the SWATs from those two agencies are going to be on the rescue mission for Confinement Alpha.”

After saying that, he eats half of the energy bar in one bite.

After a while, he chews it and then, as if remembering something, points at me again with his finger and says.

“Brad Snyder’s men demanded a helicopter with a full tank of fuel. They were going to take it over Illinois, but if they saw any other helicopters or vehicles chasing them, they were going to throw the hostages out of the helicopter and detonate the dynamite that had been planted throughout Confinement Alpha.”

At those words, Amy takes a sip of her coffee and asks.

“If those Tennessee rednecks gave you a helicopter, could you fly it?”

Then, he raises his finger as if to ask Strauss to wait for his answer until he has finished chewing the energy bar he is chewing.

Within moments, he swallows what he was chewing and answers right away.

“I heard there’s a guy who was caught transporting drugs in a traffic broadcasting company helicopter and a guy who was a Cobra (AH-1 attack helicopter) pilot. He said he’d take some of the hostages with him on the helicopter, so I’m currently negotiating with the FBI negotiator about that.”

Good job~.

Offering up that helicopter would be a problem, but if Snyder’s men take off with even one hostage, the situation will become unmanageable.

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It’s fortunate that it’s not a problem we have to solve ourselves, but I don’t think we can just stand by and watch innocent people being put in danger.

After that, we collapsed back into our seats and rested again.

But, one suspicious thought that had been bothering me even before the chaos in the control room just now lingers in my mind.

I took a bite of the chocolate bar and let it melt in my mouth, organizing the thoughts that were running through my head.

After a while, things that I definitely need to check and move on are categorized.

“Right?”

As I open my mouth, people glance up.

I looked at Decker, Strauss, and O’Connor in turn and asked.

“Has the Black Hornet ever been detected by enemies during an operation?”

The Black Hornet is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, and its rotor noise is barely audible.

Besides, it’s not easy for those punks to find him inside a prison cell, let alone inside a cramped vehicle like this.

At least that’s what I think.

Immediately after, Team Leader Decker understood what I meant, exchanged glances with Strauss and O’Connor, and then answered belatedly.

“We (US Special Forces) and SAS (British Special Forces) have used the Black Hornet in many operations, but it has never been detected. Why, Kim?”

At those words, I answered while sitting up from the driver’s seat.

“But how did Snyder’s crew appear to be watching the Black Hornet approach?”

After saying that, he looked at Strauss.

He kept rolling the energy bar wrapper between his hands like he was making a red bean porridge egg.

Then, for a moment, he stops moving and looks at me.

His eyes also shine like mine, sensing something suspicious.

Amy, who was sitting in the seat behind the driver’s seat, also realized what I was thinking, and suddenly sat down right away and started to turn the cap of the water bottle she was holding.

I looked at Deputy Manager O’Connor and said.

“Lou, can you find out if the FBI has a vehicle equipped with a jamming device here?”

He gave me a thumbs up in response to my words, then opened the back door and went out.

According to his explanation as a communications expert, it is also possible to track specific radio waves in reverse in vehicles equipped with radio jamming devices.

I then took my satellite phone out of my backpack and called McGrady, who was probably sleeping at home by now.

When the second beep sounds, pick up the call right away.

“Hey, Mac! You didn’t sleep?”

From what I’ve heard, I can hear the guy farting.

“Kim, our Chicago branch is in shambles right now because of Nick Gomez, and you thought I was just sitting at home sleeping? Old Fisher showed up here in the early evening and called in all the secret personnel.”

Hey, you punk, you must be sick of being stuck there and not being able to go home, but we got in a hand-to-hand fight with over 100 Hispanic guys!

That’s exactly what I wanted to say, but since I had to entrust you with something big, I started to calm my nerves.

“Was it? You did your best, Mac. By the way, go and report to the director and then do a few things for him.”

“What? You mean the turkey feed you give to your house?”

“Hey! That’s not a turkey, that’s an African grey parrot, you idiot, and now stop whining and get ready to take notes.”

There was a rustling sound of a Mac, and soon voices were heard again.

“Tell me. If you want me to wrap that weird anchovy sandwich you’re eating in a Big Rock, I’m not going to let you, Kim.”

“Please pull up the financial records of the Big Rock Correctional Facility guards for the past year and look at them.”

“Why is that?”

At those words, I glanced at my team members and answered in a small voice.

“There may be an insider involved in the prison riot.”

“You should leave that to the FBI. Why are you interfering again?”

“You want to get started, or am I going to go back there and blow your ass all the way to Trump Tower?”

McGrady made a ‘tsk’ sound and then made a keyboard and mouse click sound.

And then he asks again.

“Should we just follow our investigative routine?”

The ‘routine’ involves looking into the financial records of not only the person we suspect, but also their friends, family, and cousins.

It goes through everything from bank transaction history to income tax return amounts and even recent, traceable expenditures.

If necessary, we can investigate everything, even going as far as buying a pack of gum at a local convenience store.

“Of course, are you calling that a question?”

“Okay. I’ll report to Coulson and get going. I’ll try to get this done as quickly as possible, so make sure to pick up the phone later.”

“Okay, man!”

As I’m about to hang up the phone, Mac’s voice stops me again.

“Hey, Kim!”

“why?”

“Please be careful!”

“Razor that!”

Then I ended the call.

Then, Amy, Decker, and Strauss, who had been lying down and resting until just a moment ago, looked at me with sparkling eyes.

“Do you think they will believe you?”

A man approached Snyder and asked,

Then Snyder answered, examining the miniature reconnaissance drone in his hand, which had been destroyed by a shotgun shell.

“What choice do they have? We have the guards we’ve taken hostage, and we could take all the other inmates here as additional hostages.”

Snyder’s gaze turned to the man watching him.

Then I asked him in a small voice.

“You think you can fool those IRS SWAT guys, Mr. Gomez?”

Nick Gomez responded with a grin.

“These feds won’t have a choice, Brad. They believe my testimony alone can take down the Chicago gangs, and they’ll do whatever you ask to save me.”

Snyder shook his head at that and laughed.

Then he handed him a pistol and said:

“I don’t know how I’m stuck here in Big Rock when all the federal agencies in Chicago are such idiots. They don’t even know you’re the boss of three Chicago gangs, and they think you’re the one who’s going to give the most important testimony, and they’re holding you up like this…”

As Gomez listened, he pulled out the magazine on his gun and checked it.

As he was about to reattach the magazine to the gun and pull back the slide to load, Snyder grabbed his hand.

As Gomez’s gaze turned to him, Snyder said with a wicked smile on his lips.

“But my brothers and I aren’t fools like the federal agents, Nick. If you try to fool us…”

Gomez nodded at those words and said.

“Don’t worry, Brad. I’ll have $2 million delivered to your designated location within an hour. So, you have to keep your promise to me no matter what.”

At those words, Snyder let go of both his hands.

Those outside of Prison Cell Alpha could not even imagine that a secret deal was taking place inside.

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