Brown, Dale - Independent 04 by Storming Heaven (v1.1) Read Free Book Online

had
objections to any aspect of a warrant, it was best not to argue. The way was
still clear to do whatever it might take to put Cazaux out of business, but an
unwarranted death would mean the end of Lassen’s career. It might be worth a
twenty-year career for the chance to end Cazaux’s miserable life, but playing
by the rules was important to Timothy Lassen. Carrying a gun, a badge, and a
federal warrant made a man pretty big in some people’s eyes, and it was easy to
start believing that justice was whatever you chose to make it, especially with
sociopathic killers like Cazaux. Lassen was determined not to let his
Constitutionally mandated power corrupt him. Lassen was also determined not to
fuck up his career at this point, no matter who they were pursuing. Tall, with
an athletically lean frame and dark hair and brown eyes, Timothy Lassen had
been with the Marshals Service since 1970, and had several assignments in both California and Oregon . For eight of those years (from 1980 to
1988) he had served in the Special Operations Group (SOG). He was the SOG
deputy commander from 1988 to 1990 and then reassigned to the Sacramento office as Deputy U.S. Marshal in 1991.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Lassen replied.
                 “Good.
I want Cazaux as bad as you do, Lassen, but you’ve got to do this one by the
book or the circuit court will put us both out of business.” Wyman raised his right hand, and in the passenger section of
the Black Hawk helicopter, Lassen did likewise. “Do you swear,” Wyman recited,
“that all the information in these warrants are the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth, and do you swear to abide by the regulations and
restrictions contained herein and execute these warrants to the best of your
ability?”
                 “I
swear, Your Honor.”
                 Wyman
signed three documents and handed them to an assistant, who unclipped the pages
and sent the pages one by one into a fax machine connected to the same secure
communications link. Seconds later, the warrants appeared in the plain-paper
fax machine on board the Black Hawk assault helicopter. A recent Supreme Court
decision ruled that the faxed copy of a warrant sent via a secure datalink was
as good as the original. “I’ll be standing by here in case you need me, Lassen.
I’m with you all the way.”
                 “Thank
you, Your Honor,” Lassen said.
                 “My
clerk tells me that Judge Seymour signed a series of warrants for ATF the same
time period,” Wyman said. ATF, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, a
division of the Department of the Treasury, was involved with the regulation of
restricted, high-value goods such as liquor and weapons. “Since I wasn’t
briefed on their involvement, I assume you’re not working with ATF on this
one.”
                 “I
didn’t know ATF was involved, Your Honor,” Lassen said. “We got the information
that Cazaux had surfaced only a few hours ago. Can you give me any details on
the warrant, sir? Is Agent Fortuna in charge?”
                 “Your
old friend,” Wyman said with a wry smile—the sarcasm in his voice came through
loud and clear, even via the wavering secure datalink. “I see you have your
Kevlar on—I think you’ll need it, and not just against Cazaux.”
                 “I’d
better try to raise Fortuna on the secure phone, then, Your Honor,” Lassen
said. “Thanks again for your help.”
                 “I
have a feeling the shooting is going to start long before you encounter
Cazaux,” Wyman said, trying to interject a bit of humor into what promised to
be a very humorless scene coming up. “Good luck.” The encrypted datalink buzzed
when Wyman hung up, then beeped to indicate the channel was autochecked for
security and was clear.
                 Lassen
keyed in a user address key into the transceiver’s keypad,