, but I disagree," Chief Barona interjected. "I
don't think it's necessary to get a lot of federal agencies
involved quite yet, and certainly not the National
Guard. At least not until we're sure what
we're up against."
Almost everyone in the room looked at Barona in
surprise-the most surprised of them the: head of
SID, Tom Chandler. He was ready to speak up but
Servantez beat him to it: "Excuse me, Chief?"
Servantez exclaimed. "You don't want any help in
responding to this situation? Did you hear the same
briefing I did?"
"Of course, Mr. Mayor," Barona said. "But we
shouldn't bring in a lot of unnecessary outside help
until we're sure exactly what we're up against and
what we need."
"We could use help on the investigation of those
explosions, Chief," Chandler said. "We usually call
Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms on any explosives
investigations."
"Only for bomb explosions, Captain, not lab explosions
," Barona said. "We have four narcoticsinvestigation
teams and four explosions. We can
handle our own emergencies."
The various officials began to talk urgently
among themselves, and Chandler took advantage of
the break to go over to Barona. Kneeling behind
him, he whispered, "Chief, my teams are already up
to their eyeballs in cases-we have half as many
guys in SID as we did just three years ago. Plus
some of the teams out working these explosions are
federal or state grant positions-they're already
committed to other projects outside the division
"I'm recalling them-they stay on the investigations
, Captain," Barona said. "Besides, if these explosions
did wipe out a bunch of drug gangs, your
division's caseload probably took a big cut."
"But we also usually request help from BNE and
nearby counties with big cases," Chandler argued,
"and they're so swamped too that it's not likely
we're going to get any help from them. The feds and
the National Guard would help . . .
"I am not going to go to the governor and request
that he send troops onto the streets of Sacramento
with M- I 6s to do something that your units shotuild
be able to handle well enough on their own,"
Barona snapped sotto voce. "I won't give the bastard
the satisfaction. That's all. Sit down."
Chandler returned to his seat, taking a deep
breath to try to mask his,feelings. He hated to go
along blindly with the rumor mill or the department
gossipmongers, but the only possible explanation
he could fathom for why Barona would refuse
outside help was that he didn't want to spoil his
political aspirations by appearing not to be in full
control.
The meeting pulled itself back to order. "That's
well and good for you, Arthur," the Sacramento
County sheriff said wryly, picking up on Barona's
last statement, "but I've only got three narcoticsinvestigation
teams to investigate six lab explosions
. I could use the help." To the head table he
said, "I'd like to put in a request for state Bureau of
Narcotics Enforcement narcotics investigators, ATF
hazardous-materials investigators, and FBI crimescene
investigator support, ma'am. As many as we
can get, as soon as we can get them. And if the National
Guard has any HAZMAT-qualified engineer
units handy, we could use them to help in the
cleanup too."
I/1/11 put in the request, and I'll mark it 'urgent,"'
Chairman Adams said, making a note and passing it
along to her staff. "Mr. Servantez, if you want to
amend my request, you're welcome to do so. Might
save you a little time." When she noticed Barona's
icy glare and saw Servantez's hesitation, she leaned
over to the mayor so Barona couldn't hear. "It could
cause a problem, Edward," she said in a low voice.
"The governor might be reluctant to call out the
Guard if one government agency asks but another
doesn't. We should be united on this."
"I've got to back up my chief of police and my
"Calling in the Guard and the federal agencies takes
control of the emergency out of our hands-we bum
resources but we don't get any benefit from it. We
can ask for plenty of free advice, but I prefer to wait
and see exactly what we'll need before we push the
panic button."
III think you're wrong, Edward," Adams said.
"Put your name on the request and let's get a handle
on this thing early. A little more force on the streets
will be much better than too little and having this
crisis reignite. I'm sure your chief is competent, but
let's not get pride--or arrogance-in the way of handling
this emergency."
Servantez nodded reluctantly. Avoiding Barona's
accusing glare, he said, "After consulting with
Chairman Adams, in the spirit of cooperation and
conservation of resources, I recommend that the
city join the county in asking the governor for assistance
from the National Guard and assistance from
state and federal investigation agencies."
Tom Chandler breathed a sigh of relief, thankful
that Servantez kept his backbone straight on this
one. Barona was as mad as a wet hen. Well, screw
him. He'd be proclaiming how great he was right up
until the time the gang-bangers and anarchists
kicked open his office door.
In any case, Chandler knew his troops and the
entire force would be running full bore for the next
few weeks.
WILTON, SOUTH SACRAMENTO COUNTY,
CALIFORNIA
LATER THAT DAY
nless Townsend or one of the others needed him
for something, Bennie the Chef usually slept in
until noon. It had been a very late night, and he had
every intention of letting his growling stomach
awaken him whenever. But for, some reason he'd
woken up early, and something made him get up
and flip on the TV around seven A.M. What he saw
horrified him. Meth-lab explosions. Dozens of
them. Huge explosions, killing enormous numbers
of people and damaging or destroying entire city
blocks.
It could only be his portable hydrogenators, Bennie
thought. The explosive power of one of those
units was tremendous. And he realized the location
of each explosion corresponded to a Satan's Brotherhood
chapter site-the exact places that Townsend
was going to send each unit.
Bennie got in his car and drove to the ranch of the
Aryan Brigade brain trust in Wilton. Throughout
the drive he listened to his car radio broadcasting
reports of the explosions all around the state-it reminded
him of the news coverage of the Persian
Gulf War, when that too took over the radio. The
devastation caused by the explosions was enormous
. It was no wonder. Nine cubic feet of hydrogen
gas mixed with oxygen and detonated with a
spark was enough to blow up a two-story house. Put
in enough hydrogen gas under forty psi of pressure,
and the explosive effect was multiplied forty times.
The steel hydrogenation unit would contain some
of the blast, but the net effect would be similar to a
four- or five-thousand-pound bomb.
He found Townsend, Reingruber, and several of
the organization's top sergeants conducting firearms
training in one of the wooden barns. Townsend's
weapon of choice was a small 9-millimeter
Calico automatic, a short, sleek pistol with a huge
cylindrical ammo drum on top. Townsend seemed
adept at shooting it either one- or two-handed, with
either hand, on full-auto or single-shot.
"What happened?" Bennie shouted as the guards
let him approach. Townsend ignored him. Forgetting
who he was dealing with in his agitation, Bennie
grabbed Townsend by the shoulder. "I asked
you, what happened, Townsend?"
Gregory Townsend shrugged off the hand
without turning around and finished his target practice--only
one round went astray with the distraction
; the others were dead-on-then removed his
eye protection and ear defenders. "We didn't expect
you up so early, Bennie. I had a driver arranged to
pick you up later."
For a moment Bennie was relieved-Townsend
didn't appear to be blaming him for the explosions.
Then he felt scared, for exactly the same reason. If
Townsend wasn't angry or upset about the explosions
, then he must've known about them all along.
He looked at Townsend in horror. "You planned
this?"
Townsend unclipped the cylindrical drum from
the top of his weapon, clipped a fresh one in its
place, and said coolly, "We had two strikes against
us from the very beginning, Bennie: We were dealK
ing with drugs, and we were dealing with the Satan's
Brotherhood. Yes, there's lots of money in
manufacturing and selling illegal drugs, but the people
you deal with in the drug business-very unsavory
characters."
Talk about ironic, Bennie thought grimlyGregory
Townsend calling the Satan's Brotherhood
unsavory.
"Did you know that four of my men were killed
and one seriously wounded when the Brotherhood's
chapter members turned on them while they were
delivering the hydrogenators?" Townsend went on.
"I abhor anyone who cannot stick to his part of a
bargain. Major Reingruber and his men are going to
hunt down the surviving Brotherhood members and
teach them a lesson."
"You didn't expect some of the Brotherhood to
try to rip you off? " Bennie asked incredulously.
"You blew up all the hydrogenators and wasted a
chame to make hundreds of thousands of dollars a
day because a few, -of - the chapter guys killed your
troops?
"Of course not, Bennie," Townsend replied. "I
was going to kill them all anyway." The way he said
it, so casual and so businesslike, made the hairs
stand up on the back of Bennie's scrawny neck,
"Actually, I was quite relieved that the death toll on
our side was so small. We were at a considerable
disadvantage." Townsend smiled at the shock on
his face. "Bennie, you're an intelligent man. Tell
me: What would have happened to the price of
methamphetamine in the state of California if there
were over a thousand extra pounds of pure uncut
meth on the street per day? That would equate to
approximately one hundred thousand pounds of cut
meth each day."
"The price would drop," Bennie said.
"'Plummet' is the term you Americans use, I believe
."
"But so what?" Bennie asked. "Your deal with
the Brotherhood was a thousand dollars per pound
produced, no matter what the street price was."
"But if the street price dropped to, say, two thousand
dollars a pound rather than eight to ten thousand
dollars," Townsend asked, "what do you think
the Brotherhood's reaction would be?"
"They'd . . . they'd try to renegotiate the deal."
"Bennie, Bennie, please don't delude yourself like
this, not with me," Townsend scolded him. "You
know as well as I that the Brotherhood would first
renege on the deal, then go to war with us to try to
cancel it-by killing every last one of us and keeping
the hydrogenators for themselves. It was a nowin
situation for us right from the start, Bennie. But
now answer this: Has California's appetite for
methamphetamine been affected by these explosions
?"
"Hell no. Why should it?"
"Precisely," Townsend said. "So with the market
for methamphetamine the same, and with almost
every Satan's Brotherhood chapter in the state of
California closed or substantially downsized, shall
we say, and with the surviving members scattered
or eventually hunted down by Major Reingruber
and his men, what do you suppose will happen to
the price of a pound of methamphetamine that
makes it to the street now?" There was a glimmer
in Bennie's eyes as he answered the question in his
head, and Townsend saw it.
"So you have your answer, Bennie. Now, as we
all know, the Me:kicans and those remaining in the
biker gangs will rush to fill the void left by the Satan's
Brotherhood," Townsend pointed out. "So the
window of opportunity for whoever becomes California's
premier meth cooker would be very small,
although incredibly lucrative. After a period of
time, however, the battle for control of the meth
trade in the West will heat up all over again. Meth
cookers will be killing each other over a few dollars
or a few ounces of white crystals. That will be the
time to pack up and take our leave."
"I don't get it," Bennie said, shaking his head.
"Are you offering me the meth dealership?"
"I am offering you much more than that,"
Townsend said. "I'm offering you protection and
distribution assistance as well."
"All for the price of
"Just three thousand dollars a pound, plus chemicals
at our cost plus ten percent," Townsend said.
"For a substance that can sell from between ten and
thirty thousand dollars a pound or more, I think it's
an offer too good to pass up."
"Three thousand a pound? Why so little?" Bennie
asked. "It's worth two or three times that much."
"It is more important for us that we maintain a
good working relationship with you, Bennie,"
Townsend said with an expression that made the
little hairs on the back of Bennie's neck stand up all
over again. "Frankly speaking, you know quite a bit
about my organization and recent activities. Since
killing you would be akin to killing the
golden
goose, as it were, I find it better to deal fairly with
you rather than go to war. Do we have a deal?"
"I can cook anything I want, anywhere, anytime
?"
"Supervised by my men, yes," Townsend said. "I
presume you are not planning to use the hydrogenation
method to produce methamphetamine this
time?"
"Hell no," Bennie said. "The law will be all over
the dude who tries to buy thionyl chloride or a tank
of hydrogen now. If I can get my hands on some
five-gallon drums of phosphorus-3-iodide, some
condensers, and what's left of the ephedrine that's
stored out here, I can whip up a couple of dozen
pounds in one day. We can restart thionyl chloride
synthesization later, when the heat subsides."
"Do you need a hydrogenator or special apparatus
for this method7"
"Nope-just the phosphorus, the ephedrin ,
some water, and a condensing unit," Bennie replied.
"It's a faster and much safer process than hydrogenation
, but it produces forty percent less meth for the
same cost. But if the street price for meth takes a
jump like I think it will, it'll be worth it. This
would give us a nest egg to set up a few more labs in
just a couple of weeks."
"Very well," Townsend said. "But we must be
very careful now. I am not so naive as to think that
our headquarters, labs, warehouses, and meeting
places are free from police scrutiny. I must assume
that the ranch and the dozen or so other properties I
own throughout the state are under some kind of
surveillance. I've been fortunate thus far in not encountering
any police interrogations, but after this
past night all bets are off.
"The police may receive some special powers to
arrest or conduct investigations in the interest of
public safety-but more likely, they'll simply barge
in wherever they like and the Constitution be
damned," Townsend went on. "You are a known
methamphetamine cooker. Almost thirty meth labs
just blew up all across the state. The police will
want to question you. We want to try to avoid all
official inquiries on us at this point. If the police
find a connection between you, us, and our two
men who were just released from custody, and tie
us in to the downtown Sacramento shootings, our