Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 324



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Side story 30: Operation Assault

As the Apache helicopters returned fire, sparks flew in all directions from the Huey’s fuselage.

The Huey quickly flew in the opposite direction from where the Bearcats had appeared, but soon after, more 30mm shells struck the plane.

The UH-1 flew through the air, spewing yellow-hot metal fragments into the air, before eventually beginning to sway from side to side.

Moments later, the Huey helicopter descended onto the road like an airplane landing, its entire body engulfed in flames.

Kwaaang!

Huey continued to slide even after landing on the road.

Sundered rotor blades flew in all directions, and moments later the plane broke into two pieces before coming to a stop.

“Oh my god, murder up god!”

Crowley sighed at the sight.

But before they could come to their senses, AH-64 helicopters began approaching at an altitude of about 10 meters.

Two searchlights illuminated the entrance to the gas station where Crowley’s men were lying prone.

A mercenary with an M240 machine gun tried to turn his gun on the Apaches, but was quickly stopped by other terrified mercenaries.

Crowley watched the whole scene with a half-absent mind.

At that very moment, a warning broadcast sounded from the southwest corner of the road, where the Bearcats were blocking the road.

“David Crowley, do you still want to play with us?”

Crowley snorted in disbelief as he heard words that sounded more like mockery than a warning in the presence of a large number of federal agents.

The Apache helicopters were sending strong winds across the road to the gas station site, making it difficult for Crowley’s men to open their eyes.

And 500 to 600 meters away, at the site of the UH-1 helicopter crash, a fierce flame was rising, lighting up the area.

After a while, three mercenaries, including Crowley, raised both their hands and slowly stood up.

Immediately afterwards, six BearCats with their lights flashing started running towards them.

“That burning, still-collapsed building is a CBP safe house. Our CBP team lured Crowley here after he infiltrated our computer network, and then arrested him. Now, you’re here, talking about taking jurisdiction and taking him away. It’s ridiculous. If you think about it from their perspective, wouldn’t you think the same way?”

As Claire raises her voice, a senior FBI agent from the Florida office responds with a resounding yes.

“Damn, how many times do I have to make you say this? For all of us, finding the Man-Pad missile is the top priority. Didn’t Homeland Security (CBP’s parent agency) assure you that rescuing your fellow families is a secondary concern, Agent Shepard?”

Claire shouts before the FBI guy finishes speaking.

“At least until we sort things out here, we at CBP will take the lead, and the FBI and ATF will step aside for a moment. We will share the results of the interrogation with you right away, and once we have confirmed that Agent Mendez is where he is, we will turn him over to you right away. So please, step aside and give us 30 minutes.”

As Crowley’s gang is spread out, tied up at the entrance to the gas station, the future mother of my children is facing off against the FBI, ATF, and state police chiefs.

However, unlike at Orlando International Airport, this time around 20 CBP agents are standing behind Claire to set the tone, so Claire appears to be more assertive.

I was wearing a windbreaker that said CBP, watching the standoff between the three federal agencies as they tried to interrogate Crowley first.

I disobeyed Claire’s advice to stay at Orlando Airport and came with her here, but the chaos that unfolds here is truly fantastic.

Claire is clearly dealing with some nationally recognized punks, making Brad Snyder, the Tennessee punk our IRS SWAT busted, look like a church brother.

Snyder’s neo-Nazi hillbillies were holed up in the mountains doing stupid shit, lest they get caught on DEA surveillance, while Lennox was a crazy guy who could declare war on the United States at any moment.

I’m already getting nervous that this kid is going to hurt Claire.

As I was thinking about that and letting out a frustrated sigh, someone called me.

“Agent Kim!”

Not an agent, but now an ‘Ex’ agent.

Deets and the HRT men appeared from among the Bearcats surrounding the gas station.

Dietz approaches me and hands me a bulletproof plate carrier.

As I stared at it without taking it, our strong compatriot agent spoke in a small voice.

“Don’t say I gave it to you, Taeshik. Just say you picked it up somewhere.”

The plate carrier has ‘FBI’ written on the front and back, but I don’t know if anyone would believe me if I opened my mouth like that.

Still, I was reminded of a situation where someone, who is what Koreans call a tsundere, gave me a precious gift and said, “Hey! I picked that up on the way here!”

“Thank you, Mr. Cheoljae.”

When I take off my windbreaker, Deetz takes it for me.

While wearing the plate carrier, Dietz looks across the street and says:

“It was a CNN news story that there was a gunfight with automatic weapons in Manhattan, near the address of the President of the United States, and now it’s a war zone. Did you know this would happen?”

In response to Agent Dietz’s words, I grumbled and took my windbreaker from him.

“I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the US Navy’s 7th Fleet were to pull up ‘Moby Dick’ off the coast of Florida, or shoot down UFOs.”

As we watch the firefighters who arrived late on the scene putting out the fire at the safe house, Dietz speaks again.

“Yes, Taesik.”

When I turned my head to him at those words that I was hesitating to hear, he smiled and said.

“Even though I’ve retired from federal work, I don’t know if Tae-sik is chasing these cases, or if these cases are chasing Tae-sik…”

While talking, he glances at me to see if I’m having fun too.

“In my opinion, I think Taesik will continue to do this job. Just like soldiers and police officers, who think of their job as their calling.”

I should respond to that with a ‘Fucking, no way’, but what is the true heart of a human being who is tearing the country apart like this?

I don’t know why, but this morning I felt like I was being tested about something about myself.

***

30 minutes.

It’s exactly 30 minutes, not one or two hours.

Time for Claire and the CBP agents to interrogate David Crowley to determine the whereabouts of Agent Mendez’s family.

This private interrogation takes place inside the cargo truck trailer that was used to watch over the safe house before the evil white-collared thugs were lured here.

It is said to be a surveillance operation trailer with operation consoles for various equipment and large monitors installed on one side, and the interior looks cleaner and more comfortable than my home in Old Koreatown.

“We don’t have much time, so let’s get straight to the point, Mr. Crowley.”

Claire speaks to the guy sitting on the chair as he takes off his Kevlar vest.

“If you can provide me with information about where my handler, Mendez, and his daughter and wife are being held, our Customs and Border Protection will fully cooperate with your plea bargain. Since you entered our DHS network with Agent Mendez’s security code, we have been tracking your every move, and it is a given that Kyle Lennox will be arrested as well. So, shouldn’t you be looking for your own way out now?”

Crowley, who had been unresponsive to those words, turned his gaze from Claire to the black female agents standing on either side of him and to me.

Then, he makes a face that seems upset just by the fact that people of color are near him.

Look at this little bastard, he’ll scrub your face until you can get a towel over his face.

Crowley sniffles once and says.

A guy who looks like he’s about to swear loudly is talking as if he’s a part-timer at a Koreatown cell phone store.

“Anyway, the FBI is going to be the overall investigation and prosecution entity. What power does the CBP, which is just chasing smugglers off the Florida coast, have to boast like that, lady agent?”

The first step of the interrogation is to find out the facts, not to throw out bait like this, but Claire, who was inexperienced, got it off to a bad start.

Most of these people have had a history of being stopped and interrogated extensively, whether by the police or other federal agencies.

That’s why I learned a lot during my time as an IRS Criminal Investigation agent that you have to slowly watch someone and find their weaknesses or make them make mistakes.

With time running out, Claire and the CBP agents are about to get fooled by this prank.

“Come on, Crowley! Enough with the obvious, and don’t get sucked into Lennox’s self-destruction. The Department of Homeland Security, through the Department of Justice, will work with you to minimize your sentence, so you can tell us about the Mendez family’s whereabouts. This is the last offer. Don’t you know that outside this trailer, there are FBI and ATF agents waiting to take your number and eat you alive….”

Looking at Claire’s expression, I can see she’s starting to get annoyed.

Sure, if I were a federal agent, I’d pull out my revolver and put it to this kid’s head and play Russian roulette with him, but things don’t look so easy here.

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In cases like this where multiple agencies are conducting joint investigations, everyone works hard to ensure that not a single mistake is made during the process of arresting, interrogating, and prosecuting these white bastards.

Because the American judicial system allows the courts to free these guys who would otherwise be locked up in federal prison until mushrooms grow on their bodies for one simple mistake, like not being told their Miranda rights when they were arrested.

Crowley just splits Claire with a look of mockery.

As I watched Claire’s one hand go up to the holster, I reluctantly decided to step forward.

I was going to try out a trick I had learned from Amy and Uncle Coulson during my days as an agent with the Criminal Investigation Bureau, one that didn’t cross the line between legal and illegal.

I pointed to the evidence bags being held by another CBP agent, one containing Crowley’s burner phone.

Then the agent looked at Claire, and Claire looked at me.

“I will now lead the interrogation, Agent Shepherd.”

Claire, quick-witted, points her finger at the agent and says,

“Jensen, hand Crowley’s burner phone over to Agent Kim.”

Everyone is quick-witted and joins in on my play right away.

After I handed over the phone, I approached Crowley and said.

“Mr. Crowley, I honestly believe you have already harmed the Mendez family. So, just like the FBI and ATF agents who are desperate to secure the Igla (SA-16 man-portable surface-to-air missile), I want to storm Lennox’s hideout right now and set it on fire. How dare you mess with our CBP field agents, and there will be consequences right away, including yours.”

Even in my words, this white guy is still very relaxed.

I said, looking at Claire.

“Look, Agent Shepherd. Now that we’ve made enough attempts to find the Mendez family, and this is going to be an official investigative report, let’s focus on our top priority. Understood?”

Claire immediately agrees with what I say.

“No. We’ve only just begun the interrogation, and you….”

I raised one hand toward Claire, and Claire immediately shut her mouth as if she knew what to do.

Even when we fight, I wish you would scold me like that instead of scolding me like a school teacher.

Anyway~.

I said, looking at the agents sitting at the console inside the trailer.

“I’ll call Lennox on this author’s burner phone, so please prepare to track his location?”

At my words, they made a few clicks of the computer keyboard and mouse, and soon a digital map of the Orlando area appeared on a large monitor.

Then, a man who seemed to be a senior agent among the agents who were cheering on my play without even knowing English reported.

“The tracking is ready. If you call now, you can immediately see where Lennox is answering the phone.”

Unlike smartphones, disposable burner phones cannot be used by third parties to remotely delete information from the phone.

So I picked up his phone, which I hadn’t turned off since I first confiscated it, and stared at Crowley.

The evil white chick’s eyes are now beginning to change.

I spun the chair Crowley was sitting in around so he couldn’t see anything but the trailer door.

Just in time, Claire rips off the duct tape and covers Crowley’s mouth.

I turned my back to Crowley, dialed the number of someone I knew, and after a few rings, he answered.

“Hey, Kyle Lennox! I’m CBP Agent Chris Kim.”

After saying that, he looked over his shoulder at Crowley.

As he turned around in surprise, Claire put him back in his original position and grabbed his shoulder.

I spoke louder into the burner phone.

“Your top aide, David Crowley, has turned you over to our federal agencies, and we’re going to take you down. We’ve got the Florida National Guard, the Coast Guard, the CBP, the FBI, the ATF, the DEA all out in helicopters and aerial surveillance to catch your group, so why don’t you turn yourself in and save us the trouble?”

At those words, the person on the other end of the phone started shouting something, and I immediately asked the surveillance equipment operator.

“Should I buy more time to secure the coordinates of Lennox’s hideout?”

The agent immediately responds to those words.

“Thanks to the NSA’s tracking satellites, the moment Lennox picked up your call, it was marked on the map like this. You can end the call, Agent Kim.”

I immediately shouted into the burner phone.

“Now I’m going to get in there and rip your neck off, you fucking lunatic!”

When I shouted, the people inside the trailer flinched.

Then I winked at Claire, who was looking at me with a puzzled look on her face and smiling.

Crowley, who Claire had sat facing me, was looking at me with a completely different, thoughtful expression than before.

“Mr. Crowley, for messing with our CBP agents, we, the Department of Homeland Security, are going to ship you directly to the most brutal federal prison in the country. There, you will be raped two or three times a day by your Master Race lunatics, and we want you to live the rest of your life regretting what we offered you today.”

Crowley shouted before I could finish my sentence.

“You’re crazy! You’re crazy! Do you know what you just did to me? I’m not going to get raped, I’m going to get my throat slit with a spoon-knife made by the Bloody Carrot or the Army of God the second I step foot in the prison. You’re deliberately putting me in a corner? How can a federal agent do this? You’re crazy!”

An excited Crowley tried to jump up from his swivel chair, but was knocked to the floor by the handcuffs that were tied underneath him.

Then he started swearing at me and everyone in the trailer looked at him with pity.

Crowley suddenly bangs his head on the trailer floor like he’s crushing garlic, then suddenly raises his hand toward Claire and says,

“Mendez! He and his family are still alive. I promise to tell you where they are and help you in the rescue operation. Just promise me that plea deal. Come on, lady!”

Claire gave me a look that was staring at him intently, and I nodded.

Then, as they sat Crowley down again and began questioning him, he left the trailer.

As soon as we got outside, we saw FBI and ATF agents watching our trailer.

They are sitting in their Suburban right next to the truck, probably afraid that we might load the interest into it and run away.

A moment later, my smartphone went into vibrate mode and I immediately picked up the call.

“What the hell were you yelling at me, you crazy Korean?”

This is Agent Nick Torres from the FBI Chicago office, the person I called on Crowley’s burner phone earlier.

“I dialed the wrong number. Oh, it’s been a while. How are you, Nick?”

“Are you causing trouble somewhere again right now?”

“No, that’s not it. Go ahead and get to work. When we get back to Chicago, let’s have dinner at Ilheung Restaurant.”

Torres’ voice gets louder as he gets annoyed by my ridiculous answer.

“Damn, do you even know that our branch manager did all sorts of things to the New York branch manager to get you and Claire released from the Manhattan Police Department in New York? At that time, I even gave up an important investigation that I had been working on for two years to the New York branch. So, you’d better come clean to me. What the hell are you doing?”

“I told you, nothing’s wrong! I’m busy right now, so hang up the phone and go eat the banana muffin crumbs that fell on the table!”

Torres, who was taken aback by my words, suddenly shouted.

“Just shoot me in the butt, you crazy bastard.”

I burst out laughing at that, then hit back at Torres.

“When you guys go to work tomorrow, the banana muffins at that store will be sold out!”

After saying that, he hung up the phone.

But before I could wipe the smile off my face, the trailer door opened and Claire shouted at the FBI agents.

“Send the HRT team leader to our trailer! Right now!”

Then, after the FBI guys were yelling something, Sam Dietz and two HRT guys showed up.

They came running straight towards our trailer, and I looked at Claire who was standing in the doorway.

Claire nodded to me and said.

“I found the location where Captain Mendez and his family are being held.”

Now is the time for a real assault operation.

‘Fucking’ you little bad white babies, just wait.

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