Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 241



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Rescue Operation at Noon

Our Chicago Bureau of Investigation agents had barely finished their background checks on Big Rock’s correctional officers and support personnel when the situation here took a more urgent turn.

“While Blue Team personnel will conduct a distraction operation at the fire entrance to Prison Wing Alpha, Red Team personnel will simultaneously enter through the cell’s skylight section, and Green Team personnel will simultaneously enter through the outer wall of the cell’s on-site control room.”

The head of the FBI Wisconsin field office is briefing all of our field officers, including ourselves, about their upcoming rescue operation.

A map of the prison interior was displayed on a large screen, and the FBI director used a laser pointer to mark three entry points for the team members and the route each team would take.

“All of these entry procedures will be carried out when the helicopter that Snyder requested circles this parking lot and catches their attention. The hostages are currently located in the middle of the holding cell, and there are five armed personnel guarding them…”

The bottom line is that 52 FBI SWAT, Sheriff’s Department SWAT, DEA SRT (SWAT), and ATF SWAT will simultaneously enter from the left and right ends of the 100-meter-long prison cell section, and from the ceiling of the prison cell building.

The problem is that, unlike in the case of Prison Charlie, they have to deal with about 30 lunatics armed with various firearms, but strangely enough, not many people seem to think seriously about that.

Team Leaders Decker and Dawson shake their heads as they listen to the FBI director’s briefing.

Even though there is a set time to hand over the helicopter to them, and there is no sign that they will harm the hostages right away, they are insisting on carrying out the rescue operation while the sun is high in the sky.

“That’s the gist of our rescue operation. If anyone has any questions or advice about this operation, please speak up now.”

After the FBI director finishes his explanation, he hands the laser pointer back to Deputy Director Glenn Franklin, who is standing near a large screen.

Because many of the hardened criminals in Ward Alpha were key figures in drug cartels, arms trafficking organizations, and bootlegging organizations, many DEA, ATF, and federal marshals were gathered in the control room, concerned about their escape.

However, all of them are ignorant of such large-scale prison riots and hostage situations.

So, everyone is just looking at each other without saying anything.

At that moment, Team Leader Dawson moves to raise his hand, but Amy, standing right behind him, grabs his elbow.

Still, Dawson shook off her touch and raised his hand slightly.

“Please state your affiliation before asking questions.”

The FBI director speaks, pointing his finger at us, standing in the middle of a three-row line of people.

The deputy director speaks on Dawson’s behalf.

“That’s an IRS SWAT agent, Agent Benson.”

Then the FBI director smiles and says,

“HOWL SHIT! You’re here to collect taxes from the inmates in the prison? IRS SWAT? Oh my gosh! Jesus!”

The people in the control room burst into laughter at the FBI mid-level executive’s excited and over-the-top reactions.

Shit, Dawson didn’t say a word, and it makes me feel like we’re being made fun of.

However, the deputy director raised both hands as if telling the people not to laugh, and soon the people became quiet again.

The deputy director speaks to everyone in a scolding tone.

“Quiet, gentlemen. IRS SWAT rescued six hostages from Detention Center Charlie before you arrived here. And they did it without killing a single inmate. So please, give them the courtesy and respect they deserve.”

After saying that, Deputy Director Franklin glared at the FBI director, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “So what do you want me to do?”

Dawson finally speaks up, but his expression is already unpleasant.

“Are there any drones or operating CCTVs inside Prison Cell Alpha at present?”

To that, a middle-aged man wearing a bulletproof vest with an FBI SWAT patch answers, not the deputy director or FBI director.

Judging by his age and demeanor, he looks like the leader of your SWAT team.

“A small drone belonging to ATF agents is currently hovering inside the prison cell.”

Dawson immediately asks again.

“Then you must know the location of the boxes of explosives they have piled up inside. Where are the explosives now?”

Upon hearing that question, the FBI SWAT team leader turns to the ATF agent who is looking at a laptop near the large screen, at the console.

But even from where we stand, we can see the agent shaking his head.

Then, the SWAT team leader makes a momentary, embarrassed expression and then immediately erases it.

Next comes his predictable answer.

“Are you telling me now that your team should be focusing more on recovering construction explosives than on ensuring the safety of the hostages?”

Before he can finish his sentence, Dawson takes a deep breath, preparing to spill the beans later.

But this time, Team Leader Decker grabbed his arm from the side.

Then Dawson immediately shut his mouth.

Given the tone, it seems unlikely that we will be heard as the state sheriff’s office, FBI, ATF, and DEA are the ones running the whole thing.

The FBI is investigating a major incident at a federal facility, the DEA is investigating to secure drug ringleaders linked to the major incidents, and the ATF is investigating to recover dozens of automatic weapons stolen from an armory between the operating and prison buildings during the initial riot, as well as explosives from a construction site…

Everyone, for different reasons, is now focused on making sure that no matter what kind of trouble is going on inside Prison Cell Alpha, those punks never set foot outside of Big Rock.

“If there are no further questions or objections, we will now prepare for the rescue operation.”

The FBI SWAT team leader steps away from the large screen and walks toward the wall of CCTV screens where the Sheriff’s Department SWAT officers are.

The on-site supervisors inside the control room began to file out to carry out their respective missions, and soon only our group, the Department of Homeland Security, and the Big Rock Operations Team were left.

I looked at Dawson and Decker.

Then, Team Leader Decker sighs and speaks quietly.

“If we’re not careful, there will be a lot of casualties on both sides, Kim.”

At that, Dawson immediately adds his own words.

“FBI negotiators have given Snyder’s men two more hours to request a helicopter, so they still have plenty of time to prepare for the rescue mission… These guys must have itchy trigger fingers.”

Just then, the deputy director was passing by us, and Amy nodded to him.

And then we ask him a question we’ve been wondering about.

“Where the hell is the ‘fucking’ warden, Glenn? If the warden was down in some fancy restaurant in fucking New York, drinking $300 a glass of ‘fucking’ whiskey, he’d be here by now.”

However, Deputy Director Franklin’s eyes created an atmosphere where he wanted to answer that question right away, but couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

The deputy director looks around at me, Decker, Dawson, Amy, Strauss, and Preston, standing in front of him, with an ominous expression on his face.

If one of us were to press for an answer one more time, it would seem that we would reluctantly respond.

So, as I cautiously approached him to ask him, I heard another person’s voice behind the deputy director.

“I think I can answer that question.”

It was Carl Halstead, the director of the Department of Homeland Security’s Domestic Crisis Response Center.

He approached the deputy director and spoke to us in a small voice.

“Big Rock’s warden, Bill Tasker, is currently under investigation by the FBI’s Illinois office for allegedly taking bribes from a big shot who may be hiding somewhere in these cells.”

Well done.

This is not a supermax federal prison run directly by the federal government, although there are private corrections companies that spend millions of dollars every year lobbying the federal government to sweep up street criminals and put them into their private prisons.

But, in such a place, the director is being investigated for bribery.

As we look surprised, Deputy Director Franklin speaks in a quieter voice.

“Kim! Me and Mr. Halstead want your IRS SWAT to come and rescue our people from Snyder. However, due to the FBI investigation into the complaint, the State Sheriff’s Office, the FBI, and other federal agencies are trying to completely exclude our Big Rock executives from resolving this situation. Look at that!”

The deputy manager points over our shoulder, outside the door.

On the benches by the window he pointed to were sitting the real power behind the throne in Prison Block Bravo, Friendly Belle, and three black men.

“Vincent (Friendly Belle) said that he brought them here because a few of his men knew how the Snyders were going to escape from here. However, the Sheriff’s Office and the FBI won’t listen to their information, let alone ours. He said that it was crazy to ask those vicious criminals for advice on how to rescue the hostages and regain control of Confinement Alpha.”

Halstead then rejoins our conversation with inspiration.

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“First of all, our Department of Homeland Security intervened to coordinate with these state sheriffs and federal agencies, but we cannot ignore the influence of their practitioners in terms of rescue operations and prison control. However, if there is a problem with the rescue operation led by the FBI and the sheriffs, IRS SWAT will be able to intervene immediately, so please do not go too far away.”

I watched how our uncles and Amy reacted to those words.

Although he doesn’t seem to like the current situation, he seems to agree with what Director Halstead said.

Even if we don’t like the situation, we can’t run away, so we can only nod to the words of the grandpa from the Department of Homeland Security.

What choice do you have when you can’t go back to Chicago without that damn Nick ‘Fucking’ Gomez?

* * *

“Hey, Friendly Belle!”

As soon as she steps out of the control room, Amy greets the leader of Prison Wing Bravo.

Amy glances at the three guards who were appreciating them as they sit on the bench, and they nod and step aside.

We approached the black people, and Amy quietly asked Friendly Belle:

“Hey, shit! Your people know something about Snyder’s escape plan?”

Then Vincent Bell, or Friendly Bell, takes a look at his handcuffs and shackles and grumbles.

“What good would that do, Captain (Amy)? The bureaucrats inside treat us like bugs and won’t even let us in.”

After saying that, he looks at the black inmates sitting on the bench to his left.

Amy then sees the guards watching them chatting amongst themselves, and secretly hands Friendly Belle her whiskey flask.

Belle takes it and takes a quick sip, then looks at the guards.

After making sure they were still engrossed in their chatter, he handed the flask of whiskey to the black men sitting next to him.

Soon, after they all took a sip of the bourbon, Amy quickly retrieved the flask and hid it in her bosom.

“Tell us about Snyder’s escape plan, Vincent. Those in the control room may not care, but we are very interested.”

At Amy’s words, Friendly Belle turns to her black brothers, and one of them, a nerdy one with glasses, begins to whisper in a small voice.

But before I could understand what he was saying, someone’s voice resonated through the hall.

“What on earth are you guys doing right now?”

It was Officer Pearson who appeared from the armory next to the control room and shouted.

He approached us with his finger raised, swearing at his guards.

It was something like why we and the Friendly Bell group were making contact, and I quickly and tactfully approached Inspector Pearson and asked.

“Hey, calm down! We were just saying hello.”

As he, who was as big as a football player, rushed toward me, Team Leader Decker quickly joined me and helped me stop him.

As the two of us raised both hands to him to try to calm him down, he stopped grumbling as he approached us.

“Gray, Parker! How can you be so negligent in your duties in this situation? Didn’t I tell you to return Vincent and his men to the holding cell immediately? Didn’t the FBI tell you long ago that they don’t need your help?”

At those words, the chattering guards turned towards Friendly Bell with embarrassed expressions.

Amy was sticking close to the large black figure and muttering something, but then she stepped back when they got between her and Bell.

“Calm down, Pearson! Aren’t we all on the same team?”

Pearson blinked a few times at my words, then after a while he spoke in a somewhat calmer voice.

“I’m sorry, Kim. I was still a little nervous, and I blew up when my staff didn’t do what I asked them to do. Please understand.”

Me and Decker nodded to him and stepped back, and a moment later, Pearson and his group headed towards Prison Block Bravo with the Friendly Belle gang.

As they disappeared around the corner from where the weapons were stored, I looked over my shoulder at Amy and asked,

“Have you gotten anything out of the black inmates?”

Amy takes out her whiskey flask, takes a sip, then answers as she closes the lid.

“I didn’t get a little bit, I got quite a bit.”

After saying that, Captain America’s sister looks in the direction where Pearson and Friendly Belle have disappeared, and gives an incomprehensible smile.

* * *

The Alpha Prison Building is visible from the main building, as well as from the main entrance and parking lot of Big Rock Prison.

So we watched the rescue operation unfold from inside our BearCats, which we had parked near the parking lot.

Dozens of SWAT officers moved in unison, using the various engine vehicles parked in the area as cover to block their view from the windows of Detention Center Alpha.

The group of 3-4 agents who appeared from different places soon grew to 15-20 people.

From then on, all agents go to the agreed upon locations at one end of the rectangular prison building Alpha, the other end, and the rooftop.

“Hey, does anyone have any popcorn or Twinkies?”

Team Leader Dawson, who was standing on the gun turret side of our Bearcat and watching the rescue operation, shouts.

Probably, even if you really gave him popcorn or Twinkies, Dawson wouldn’t be able to eat them.

Even though I was being a joke for no reason, I think they’re just as nervous as we are.

A little later, the sound of a helicopter that had been heard from afar began to gradually get closer.

At 10 o’clock in our direction, a UH-1N helicopter was approaching us, lowering its altitude in the sky.

“Show time!”

Decker muttered as he sat in the passenger seat, watching Prison Cell Alpha through the scope he had removed from his sniper rifle.

As the sound of the helicopter grew closer, the movements of the SWAT officers outside the Alpha prison building became faster.

As FBI SWAT officers climbed up to the roof of the building with their bare hands, they threw a rope down and began to climb the rope two at a time.

At that time, ATF SWAT officers gathered at one end of the Alpha Prison Building, on the outside wall of the field control room, were setting up a large, egg-shaped, shaped charge to blow a hole in the wall.

The same was true for DEA SRT agents in the opposite section.

Explosives are being set up to blow up a large skylight near the section of the prison cell block Alpha where the fire exit door is installed.

All the while watching them, verbal reports from each SWAT team leader and conversations between commanders in the control room can be heard on the command radio.

My mouth was on fire as I watched the real-time rescue operation unfolding less than 100 meters away.

Eventually, the helicopter lands over Big Rock Prison and begins to circle very loudly, making its distinctive rotor wind noise.

Inside that Wisconsin Highway Patrol helicopter are SWAT snipers carrying M32 grenade launchers loaded with smoke and tear gas grenades.

Following the instructions from the control room, they fire smoke grenades and tear gas inside through the rooftop skylight of Detention Center Alpha, and a full-scale rescue operation begins.

The helicopter flies over our Bearcats, towards the prison cells and the main building.

As I listened to the sound of the helicopter, my heart seemed to beat faster.

“Blue team, all three!”

“Red Team, set!”

Then, a report is transmitted over the radio from the ATF SWAT team breaching the outer wall of the field control room.

“Green Team, ready!”

Immediately after that report, a UH-1N helicopter turns and approaches over the parking lot.

In a moment, the helicopter’s two hatches will open and SWAT snipers will fire smoke and tear gas grenades toward the skylight in Cell Alpha.

We watched the scene with bated breath, and I was so nervous that I could tell how fast my heart was beating without even putting my hand on it.

Wow, I wonder if the SWAT guys on the scene feel the same way I do?

The midday rescue operation will begin soon.

No one knows whether the operation will be a lightning-quick special operation or a disaster.

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