Globall War of Terror; "I Shot A Man In Reno"

[drewkitty]

Globall War of Terror: "I Shot A Man In Reno"

Night was no good for this kind of travel. But stopping was no good either. In the dark, a Crown Victoria going someplace purposefully looked too much like a cop for bandits to mess with, and too much like a cop for cops to mess with.

A convenience store stocked me up with beef jerky, caffeine tabs, water and miscellaneous supplies.

After getting over the Sierras, my route was 395. I passed Manzanar.

If you don't know the history, Manzanar was one of the internment camps from World War II, in which Japanese Americans were kept after their property and land was stolen.

It was back in service. As an internment camp. Fresh triple barbed wire with upended 40' containers as guard towers, and a machine gun nest at the gate.

How little we learn.

I fueled up just after dawn in a little town named Independence. I needed sleep but I needed to avoid entanglements with local law enforcement -- and staying in a hotel or motel would mean that knock on the door.

So I parked the Crown Vic in the front parking lot of City Hall and wandered away on foot. I found a gap between some bushes and a fence and curled up in a woolen blanket to sleep.

I woke up several hours later bleary, itchy and bug bitten ... but I woke up. A few baby wipes later, I walked back to my car in an authoritative manner, keyed in, started up and drove off.

Reno was calling. To be specific, the Reno offices of the [CLIENT]. I knew they had dismissed the [COMPANY] guards immediately after the Firecracker, and replaced them with sycophants and hangers-on of the existing administrative staff. But they hadn't known how to secure the badging system or the cameras or anything else for that matter.

I needed light for the next step. Fortunately I made it to the target address -- in a suburban neighborhood of Reno - a few hours before dusk. I stashed the car and got out my chosen weapon. I now wore a hoodie and jeans. Any decent cop would take me on his copdar and jack me up, and then I would be done. So I had to not get caught.

It took an hour of crawling to flank the target address from two blocks away, and set up in the bushes somewhere I could see the front door but could not be seen.

This allowed me to set up the tripod and connect the weapon.

The target's car pulled into the driveway. I put my finger in the correct spot and deliberately did not tense. I would get only one good shot.

He got out of his car and walked to his front door. I pressed the button on the SLR and it speed-shot twenty four images of him.

Mission accomplished. I removed the media card and concealed it on my person, secured the SLR and tripod, and reversed my trail through the bushes, down the street, back to the car and out of the area.

Clean up again with baby wipes. Spot the car some distance from the Reno client site.

Now I needed to infiltrate. But the in-house guards were worthless. They did not patrol. They did not pay attention to cameras. They did not even move the cameras from time to time. They were goof offs.

That got me through the perimeter fence, across the parking lot, and to an edge of the building not covered by cameras.

But getting on the roof would require actual effort. I put on my climbing gloves and proceeded to free-climb an exterior wall corner. When two walls make a corner facing each other, someone with training and courage can free-climb by pressing their body against one then the other.

Once on the roof, I could get to a roof hatch and down and in. Fire safety.

I was careful to wear a glove on my right hand. I could tuck it in a hoodie pocket when passing a camera to look normal. But I did not want to leave prints.

I had an office in mind. A few moments with a bump key and a pick got me in. This put me in front of a computer. I put a flash stick into it and rebooted it.

That got me into the network. The same network as San Jose. I opened a text window and sent a brief command.

Network compromised.

Then I printed images from the camera card and a file I had brought with me.

This required me to reboot the computer and go out into the corridor to use a code to retrieve the prints from the network printer.

So far so good.

Now back to the roof, up the roof hatch, and across to another part of the building. Into the HVAC spaces, crawl up into the dropped ceiling. This area was lousy with cameras, and even an idiot could tell that someone didn't belong in the Executive Offices at 8 PM at night.

I made sure I had the correct office. Then I attached two quick release clips to my print-outs and lowered them down onto the desk with monofilament lines and a portable fishing rod. Never break in without one.

Payload delivered, I retraced my steps to the roof. Now to get down.

I'd done a lot of climbing. My legs were rubbery. So I ate some beef jerky, drank some water and admired the view from the site. Stretched my legs and my feet.

I climbed out to the edge and lowered myself by my arms until I dangled from the edge of the 3rd story railing. Then blocked myself into the corner formed by the walls and ...

started ...

slowly ...

inexhorably ...

sliding ...

down the wall.

Fortunately for me, my bestest friend - the bushes - helped break my fall. But I was stunned all over for a few minutes and had to rest.

I then limped to the arc not covered by perimeter cameras and walked off the site, back over the perimeter fence in a different spot, and ultimately back to the car.

I changed from hoodie and jeans to company shirt and pants and uniform jacket. I put on my gun belt and firearm. I tucked everything away neatly except my lunch.

I then started patrolling as if I were checking my Reno accounts.

This allowed me to wander further and further away from the site, and closer and closer to the edge of the city. I tanked - using cash - at a gas station near the freeway.

By midnight I was clear and rolling south. I stayed in uniform and armed the entire time. I was buzzed twice by CHP - they saw me in gear and wandered off.

A different route through the Sierras got me to the Fresno area.

Buddy had given me an idea.

"No one bothers a car hauler."

I found another roadside truck shop and changed again before going in. A cashier's check and some bluebacks got me title to a pickup truck and a trailer configured to haul three cars. I rigged up the Crown Vic as one of the hauled vehicles. Then I bought two frankly decrepit vans.

I didn't care if they ran or not. I wanted the cargo space.

Then I went to the Dollar Store and bought - in boxes, out the back door - as much food and personal care supplies as I could fit into the two vans. Candy was fine. Cough drops were fine. I was not buying stuff that was life or death. I was buying luxury items. Things you could live without but which would make life worth living.

I fully fueled all four vehicles and made sure I had a siphon hose and fuel cans.

Now i wouldn't need to tank as I doubled back south, almost as far as Bakersfield, and drove north again.

More beef jerky, more caffeine. Put the uniform and gear back on.

Good thing, too, because I hit an official government roadblock south of Gilroy.

Gilroy PD.

"Good afternoon, officers," I said as I rolled down the window and kept my hands at 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock on the steering wheel.

"Where are you headed?"

"San Jose." I passed over driver's license, temporary registration, proof of (corporate) insurance, and travel letter.

We had spent effort making that last as official looking as possible. My client and my company asked official organizations to allow us to proceed on emergency response and disaster recovery operations.

They passed the paperwork back and waved me through.

Two hours later I was approaching the South Gate.

I pulled in, submitted to inspection, and was flagged to the motor pool.

I entrusted the cargo to Buddy - who had made it back yesterday - and found myself gently placed into that wheelchair and wheeled by Shane Shreve to the small office.

There is just no getting away from that man.

###

"What the fuck?!? What the fuck is this?!?"

Twenty four photos of the Site Location Executive for the Reno offices going from his car into the front of his house.

Pictures of every doctored box on the Reno convoy. The supposed contents, then the actual contents. Lovingly detailed, suitable for prosecution.

Both sets of documents on his desk, in an alarmed room surrounded by cameras in a secure building. With no evidence how they got there. Printed on a client owned printer in the same complex.

"You can't even keep my OFFICE secure! I could have been killed! You two STOLE from the company and what's more important, you got CAUGHT at it!!!

"What kind of bumbling incompetent fools are you?!?"