Dirty Work with D. Marsh

[d_marsh]

That was my poor attempt at parody for those of you who have seen Dirty Jobs with Mike Row.

I have been writing up some of the work I have done for the law firm(s) since the beginning minus the names and with slightly skewed details to ensure I meet the obligations of my nondisclosure agreement. So for that purpose, everything I post in this thread is to be considered fictional and does not depict any actual person or event. Unless, of course, I am assigned to investigate the Clinton's and they kill me, in which case you can presume that actually happened. And also, I am going to call these events day one, day two, etc. but don't presume these days were consecutive because there is a 99.9% chance they were not. If this topic bores everyone to death I will just stop posting and we can let it sink into forum oblivion.


Day one:

Bear with me for a moment as this does not have much to do with my love life. Or maybe in some weird way it does. No probably not. Either way it seems my attorney was having lunch with a ‘friend’ who works for the good people of Lie, Cheat & Steal LLP. I don’t know all the details, or how my name came up, but after their conversation I presume my background was checked, finances analyzed, and history reviewed. My attorney called and wanted to meet, I agreed and a few days back we spoke face to face. He extended me a semi-vague offer to receive financial compensation in exchange for certain services. That is lawyer speak for free agent dirty work. No new employee orientation, no HR meetings, no small office in the basement with a red Swingline stapler. I will get a call when there is work to be done and I will either take the job or they call someone else. It pays $800 a day and they cover the taxes. There are also a few benefits; liability insurance, legal protection, paid expenses, bail money, political influence, etc. No dental, but that might not be an issue. He also made some mention about a vehicle and some equipment being provided.

The position description was decidedly vague for a law firm, especially since it was provided verbally and no paperwork was every presented, signed, notarized or anything else. Essentially it included covert static and mobile protection, surveillance and counter surveillance duties, escort and transportation of clients, advance work and intelligence gathering, threat assessment and threat mitigation, liaise with local authorities and other duties. I am confident that ‘other duties’ are where the rubber really meets the road. Especially since it turns out the big firm already has in-house investigators, cyber security techs and contract armed security. Makes one wonder what's left to do after all that.

I do not need a license to investigate things since the state repealed that requirement, but it turns out to comply with the law I will need an armed security license. The qualifications include 80 hours of training, firearms qualification, background check, psych evaluation and more. And yet the lawyer made it sound like he will take care of that without me spending a minute in a classroom or a second on the range. I am confident that my resume far exceeds any requirements they have anyway. Where I will have to receive training is on the legal side of things. I will however be on the receiving end of a tutorial on the law, gray areas, work arounds and where stepping over the line could have consequences if I am caught. He also said never to divulge a thing, for any reason, to anyone. If they have a badge or even if they don’t, hand them the lawyer’s cards and keep my mouth permanently shut. The exact advice I would expect from an attorney.

To be honest I bet all of that sounds very covert with a strong espionage vibe, but in reality I bet’s it really boring and tedious work. Like watching a witness so they don’t run off or trying to find out if Mrs. Richass is sleeping with her tennis pro or pool boy or both. Outside of date night or nights, I don’t have that much going on so I decided to see if the money was worth the tedium.

 

[d_marsh]

Day two:

I showed up to meet with the attorney in furtherance of employment opportunities, but instead I was redirected to a junior partner or an associate or who knows what they did for the firm. I am just going to call her the handler or the contact. The handler escorted me to a room in the back, provided me an armed security guard license bearing my name, a stack of business cards with the lawyer’s name on them, a pay by the minute throw away smart phone, a second identical phone that was in the box but preprogrammed, a set of keys with a familiar Dodge logo and some kind of smaller key and finally a parking permit. She asked if I wanted some coffee before we got started and I accepted the offer. A moment later she returned with a cup of black bean juice and started to provide me what could only be described as a thorough briefing.

She started by asking if the gun I selected to carry had any personal meaning or attachment. I said it did and commented how the old workhorse had been with me for some time. Without any consideration for my feelings about that trusty Glock 19 she suggested I leave it at home. “Get something concealable that you are effective with that can be tossed without hesitation and is easily replaced.” What am I going to be doing for these people? Although in hindsight her instructions did make sense. Next she told me the parking permit was for my personal vehicle but it should only be displayed when parked, otherwise it should be hidden. A few spaces away in the guarded and well monitored parking garage was a newer nondescript Dodge Durango Pursuit with a gas card, insurance card and registration in the center console. “Don’t pay inside and don’t buy anything with it but gasoline.” She continued that in the back of the SUV were several Pelican cases that I should familiarize myself with. If I didn’t understand how to use anything a tutorial could be provided. She also insinuated that I should not leave anything in the SUV or take anything from it when my day was done. “It will be routinely cleaned inside and out, so don’t worry about such things.” She talked about communications protocols, who to call, when to call, who not to call, what numbers were already in the phone and a number that I needed to memorize. We also chatted about what to not talk about when on the phone.

I have been in the military, I have worked as a contractor, I have worked professional security details and I have worked off the books jobs. This may have been the most thorough and specific mission briefing I have ever received. My handler knew her stuff and knew it well. Something tells me this was not her first time making this presentation, and I was right. She would eventually explain that the firm employed a small handful of people to take care of necessary tasks and that at some point I would surely encounter or be assigned to partner with some of my colleagues on specific assignments. The rest of the briefing was all about the legalities of such tasks, grey areas, work arounds, Miranda rights, and another long lecture on keeping my mouth shut. The terms “Lawyer” and “Warrant” seemed to be only two I was allowed to utter aloud. Especially if I had to use my firearm in the lawful defense of myself or others and in doing so was detained by law enforcement.

Eventually we made it to the question and answer period. I will skip the Q’s and provide you only with the A’s. I have my choice between cash, check or deposit but they will pay the taxes and other governmental deductions separately and I was required to file my own income tax return. I could call her when I needed anything; cash, financial transfer via almost any means, another throw away phone, a different vehicle, specific equipment, general information and even advice on how to proceed. She explained that there was a number of drop off and pick up locations for when I had or needed something in my possession. Then I hit the million dollar question. The answer was “Most of this is not about it being dangerous or illegal. It’s was about legal protections, defensibility, trade secrets, data security, property recovery and keeping both the firm as a whole and the client a couple lawyers away from whatever I would be doing. I picked up what she was laying down.

When we reached the end of this little foray into the secretive world of legal dirty work she handed me a manila envelope containing 8 crispy $100 bills and said “I’ll call or text you”. Sounds like I will be carrying two cell phones with me now. Also sounds like I need to select a new concealment piece.

 

[d_marsh]

Day Three:


My first assignment for the firm was either a gift or a test. Or maybe they were just giving me a live audition to see what I was and was not capable of, how I would handle myself or some other assessment of my abilities. I was provided with a folder containing all the missional critical information I would need for this covert flash drive recovery mission. So yeah, basically someone stole a flash drive, and I was supposed to get it back. I chuckled just a little when I came to the generic photo of the USB drive in question in the folder. No one can accuse the firm of failing to pull together all the information one might need. Folders do not leave the firm, so I reviewed the info, made a few notes and committed the visual aspects of the target to memory.

My handler filled in the blanks between names, address, brand names and the details that were not document in the folder. Details such as what was contained on the drive in question. It seems like someone, or to be specific a certain couple, has a pension for inviting additional people into their master bedroom for mature themed recreational activities involving props, attire, and other things I probably better off not knowing about. For the couple to visually relive and re-enjoy the moment, they had their bedroom outfitted with a few high-end video cameras. I cannot say if the people who join them are made aware of this fact or not, and it doesn’t matter because they are the client not the target. It seems one of these special guest participants walked out of the room with a flash drive that was plugged into a laptop attached to a wall mounted television. I watched the video, and it was clear that he snatched it, which made me think he did not know he was being monitored.

The firm was able to provide identifying information, place of employment, address, phone number and everything else I would need to locate the guy. I went to the parking garage and traded my personal vehicle in for a company provided Dodge Durango, the pursuit model, which was just an R/T without the cosmetic upgrades. I was dressed as nondescriptly as I could opting for some khaki pants, a t-shirt and a dark colored no tuck button up. I threw on a ball cap and had some sunglasses at the ready. Of course, my 9mm was properly secured in a holster just around the back of my right hip with a spare mag on the other side. I am not a cop and don’t pretend to be, but I did slide a couple rolled up zip ties into my pocket just in case someone needed to be restrained. I started up the Durango and rolled out of the parking garage.

The guy I was looking for was in his early 20’s, attended college and worked at a car wash. Nothing about him stood out as special or unusual. He didn’t live at home, but he didn’t exactly live on his own either. Seems his grandparents’ house features an in-law suite facing the black paved alleyway and that is where he laid his head at night. Or at least on the nights he wasn’t having a threesome with a wealthy couple twice his age. Since the car wash was closer to me than the back house I decided to stop there first. A friendly counter person said he was not in that day and to check back tomorrow. Since it is August I doubt classes are in session, so I decided to go to his place next.

I drove around the block a couple times and down the alley. His car was parked outside of a structure that looked to be a garage at one time, so I pulled over just out of view and walked up to the door. The alley was overgrown with trees and bushes which provided ample concealment. I did not see any cameras but that doesn’t mean they didn’t exist. I knocked and waited. No one answered. I knocked again and this time I could hear some movement inside; I may have woken him up. He answered the door looking disheveled and maybe hungover. I simply said, “I’m here for the flash drive”. He looked confused for just a moment, but then I could see in his eyes that he knew. He replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” and started to shut the door. I decided to invite myself in and shut the door behind me. I was clear and concise when I communicated that I had one purpose in life, and it was to recover that drive. I offered him a set of options, one that involved a carrot and one that involved a stick. Back up to a sofa in the middle of the room he looked at me and said “How much?” I asked how much he wanted, and he said “$5,000”. I told him I could go up to $2,000, even though I was authorized to go higher. He nodded in agreement. I retrieved my phone and called the firm, they asked for payment method and account details, then sent the 2 grand via Venmo. The flash drive thief walked over to a small metal lock box sitting on a shelf and opened it, as I prepared to act violently if he produced anything other than a USB stick. He handed me the drive and asked me to leave.

I asked if he watched it, he claimed not but he was lying. I asked if he made a copy on another drive or duplicated any of the files, again he claimed that he didn’t. He was lying again. I walked over to him and told him I wanted the copy. He resisted and continued to pretend no copy existed. I backed him into the wall and pressed the flash drive into his brachial plexus tie in, a bundle of nerves where the shoulder and chest meet that can produce a fair amount of discomfort and repeated my request. He did not resist for long, calling me a few unflattering names as he produced a second flash drive from his computer desk. I told him it was my greatest hope to never have to come back, but if I ever found out another copy existed, was uploaded to the cloud or ever appeared on the internet, 3 months 3 days or 3 years into the future, I would be, and he would not like it. He told me there were no more copies and he never uploaded it anywhere. I believed him this time and moved toward the door. As I walked through it and was fully outside, I could hear him telling me off as the door locked behind me.

I put both drives into a small padded and lined plastic envelope and sealed it shut. I called the firm and told them I had two drives in hand and was confident no other copy existed. They instructed me to drive back to the parking garage and just leave the envelope on the front seat. By the time I was back in my challenger I had already received a transfer notice for $800. My handler may not be personable or have a sense of humor, but she is efficient

 

[Bacpacker]

Good stuff

 

[Pearl]

Yep, good stuff!! There is no need for me to start a thread what I cleaned , or how hot some old people's houses are!!

 

[Snowman]

James would be Honored...!!!

 

[old tex]

Makes one wonder what's left to do after all that.

After reading your first post 2 questions came to me. 1. Is there a Clinton in the firm or as a client? 2. Do you have to make it look like a robbery, accident or that they killed themselves?

 

[UserNameTaken]

Lovin' it, may we have some more please?

You work too cheap.

I have a friend from school who makes a bundle as a personal "fixer" for rich people. She lives in a house by the beach worth several million. Drives a Range Rover and a Lexus. If you need your kid abducted and sent to rehab, or a private jet to pick you up discretely after a party at Epstein's, or 50 yd seats at the Superbowl on the morning of, she's yer gal. I don't think she disposes of bodies, but I bet she knows who to call.

Looking forward to Day 3.

 

[d_marsh]

Lovin' it, may we have some more please?

You work too cheap.

I have a friend from school who makes a bundle as a personal "fixer" for rich people. She lives in a house by the beach worth several million. Drives a Range Rover and a Lexus. If you need your kid abducted and sent to rehab, or a private jet to pick you up discretely after a party at Epstein's, or 50 yd seats at the Superbowl on the morning of, she's yer gal. I don't think she disposes of bodies, but I bet she knows who to call.

Looking forward to Day 3.

I made about $950 a day as a security contractor getting shot at, so I thought $800 a day for sitting in a car and asking people questions was fair. I did get a raise when I started doing more work a week or so back.

I am pretty sure the woman that seems to be my supervisor is the fixer and I am one of the tools in her toolbelt.

 

[d_marsh]

Day Four:

I rolled up into the parking garage and parked the Challenger a few spaces down from the law firm owned Durango. The silvery grey SUV had dark tinted windows and was meant to not stand out in anyway. The pursuit package contained within would allegedly provide some additional horsepower and handling if needed and a blurry plastic license plate cover that obscured the numbers from any angle other than straight on. In the back end was a collection of rugged Pelican cases full of cameras, parabolic microphones and other electronics. There was also a duffel bag that contained a variety of hats, vests, glasses and other items to aid in disguising oneself. I added my personal gear bag to the backseat and climbed in the front. On the passenger front seat was a folder containing my assignment of the day.

A woman with a daughter remarried, got cancer and passed away a few years later. The step-father raised the child alone from the age of 16 and some months. They each received an equal share of the life insurance, with the child’s portion going into a trust for a couple years. When that young girl with a somewhat flush bank account completed high school she began to attend college, electing to just live at home and save money in the process. When she was in her 4th year of college, studying at home her laptop malfunctioned and died. In a panic, needing to get an online test completed and submitted, she grabbed her step-dad’s laptop and managed to guess the simple 4 digital pin code that kept people from getting in. He used the last 4 digits of the home phone number. She was instantly horrified to find a folder on the desktop with her name on it. It contained hundreds of nude photos and videos that were taken without her knowledge in both the bathroom and her bedroom. The images were not from her high school years but more recent, some within the last 2-3 months. The young woman was in shock. She closed the laptop, packed a bag and went to stay with a friend. After regaining some composure she contacted a campus legal advisor who referred her to the law firm, calling the police was not an option she was willing to consider. She did not alert the predator but played it off as just spending time with a friend who was too scared to live alone. My instructions were to obtain the laptop, any media storage devices and any cameras I could locate. The data sheet provided by the woman was pretty complete, including the work schedule and the habits of the pervert.

I arrived in the neighborhood which was dark and heavy from the tall thick trees which lined the street on both sides. Rows of small similar looking 2 bedroom houses, all with enclosed front porches, long skinny driveways that led to single stall detached garages in the back and those old style windows where you had to swap screen windows for storm windows as the seasons changed. I parked a few houses down, put on a ball cap featuring the state flag, a royal blue vest with white reflective strips and a pair of non-magnified reading glasses, grabbed a clipboard and walked to the target home. I rang the front door bell and knocked a few times before walking around to the back where I knocked again. Concealed by bushes and a reddish colored wood fence that ran almost the whole length of the driveway, I put on a pair of nitrile gloves before lifting up the mat to locate the spare key. It wasn’t there. I checked a few more places before I located it inside the hinged cover of an outdoor power outlet next to the garage’s side entrance. I unlocked the rear door to the house and took out the surveillance detector that doubled as a camera locator. No signals were detected and no shiny red indicator of a lens aperture appeared. The basement stair case was in front of me and a kitchen to my left. The kitchen led to a dining area and a small living room. To the right was a round topped open doorway with a bathroom straight ahead and bedroom doors to the both the left and right. I went into both the bathroom and the woman’s room but did not locate any cameras, concealed or otherwise. I thoroughly searched the larger bedroom and the living room for a laptop or any drives but was again unsuccessful in my hunt.

I moved through the house and eventually down in to the basement. It was unfinished and mostly empty sans a disorganized work bench in one corner and a makeshift office area in another. A carpet remnant lay on the floor with a big wood desk on top of it. One of those plastic floor protectors allowed an office chair to move around freely. There were two bluish green metal filing cabinets next to the desk and one had a printer on top of it. The desk had a large monitor, a keyboard, a mouse but no computer. The cords and cables were however available to hook the laptop up to those peripherals. Piles of papers and envelopes were all over. I checked for cameras and found one. It was a small cheap Chinese made unit no doubt bought off of Amazon. It was located at the top of a wood support post where it connected to a joist and was aimed directly at the office area. No signal was present other than the house’s WiFi so I just walked over and plucked it from its plastic mount. Small, black and cheap the unit had an internal battery and used a micro-SD card to record video on. I put it in my pocket and gave the area a second scan.

The desk had no locks but the drawers were full of office supplies and other random items. One filing cabinet contained hanging folders packed with papers but the other was secure with a push in lock that kept all the draws from opening. I collected a paper clip from the desk and reconfigured it before sliding it into the lock and twisting it back and forth. It took longer than I wanted it to, making me consider a more brutal option, but eventually I got it and the lock popped out. Inside the top drawer was an unlocked cash box with a fair amount of US currency, maybe $500, and a few rolls of $1 gold colored coins and $0.50 pieces. There was also a small USB hard drive and a few micro-SD cards, all of which went into an anti-static bag then into my right cargo pocket. The next drawer down revealed the laptop I wanted; I removed it and set it on the chair. The third drawer had some random items and 3 quart size zip-loc bags; each containing what looked like the dirty underwear of a college age female. All 3 bags went next to the laptop. The bottom drawer contained a cardboard box which held several additional cheap Chinese cameras. Two were disguised as USB cell phone chargers, one as an outlet expander and another appeared to be a functional smoke detector camera. There were also a few more just like the one in my pocket. Since the presence of an intruder would no doubt be detected anyway, I decided to take the opportunity to collect one USB charger cam and make the rest of cameras permanently nonfunctional. I went through the entire area again to ensure I didn’t miss anything.

I pressed the plastic panty bags into my left cargo pocket, placed the clipboard on top of the laptop and tucked the package under my arm, walked straight out the back door, down the driveway and into the Durango. I looked around but did not see a single person or hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance. I proceeded to the next location on my work assignment sheet, a small computer shop in a strip mall. It was tucked in between a cannabis dispensary and a massage parlor with bright neon signs. After I removed my weak but effective disguise I walked inside with the laptop, two cameras and the media storage devices. A long haired kid that looked no older than 18 met me at the counter and I said “I’m with the law firm”. He gestured for me to follow him and we went into the back room, an area that looked like a geek squad repair shop that had exploded. Computer parts, pieces, wires and electronic skeletons were everywhere. The place reeked of the green herb they sold next door, but I wasn’t so sure that was actually because of the neighboring business. I handed over the goods and watched as the kid did his thing, scouring the drives and searching for cloud data and other info. After 10 minutes or so he just looked back at me and said “You can go.” I pulled out my throw away smart phone and called my contact, she confirmed that if the technician had the “products in hand” my assignment was complete. I commented on the other items I collected and she said “leave them in the vehicle”, she sounded irritated by that discovery and I understood why. As usual the phone went dead without any goodbyes so I returned the phone to my pocket. I asked the kid “How much are you gonna make on this job?” As he continued to move through the screens with expedience he replied “More than you.” He was probably right. I walked out the door wondering how much of this places’ business actually involved selling or repairing computers. I also wondered if the pervert was going to be punished somehow beyond just losing a laptop, some cameras and a few trophies. I should have taken the cash and just tossed it out the window, or maybe burned the house down, but that was not the assignment. Maybe the computer geek would punish him electronically or the firm would go after his half of the insurance payout. I don’t know. I will likely never know.

 

[Pearl]

I cleaned sticky stuff out of an old couple's fridge! Also cleaned their toilets, washed their sheets, cleaned the house! They don't provide me a vehicle, just a house key! In the past I have found hidden cameras people's kids had in place to watch their elderly parents. Actually got fired from one job for showing a lady a camera, her son was not amused! So Marsh, keep posting, that's all I have on the glory and danger of cleaning!!

 

[d_marsh]

I cleaned sticky stuff out of an old couple's fridge! Also cleaned their toilets, washed their sheets, cleaned the house! They don't provide me a vehicle, just a house key! In the past I have found hidden cameras people's kids had in place to watch their elderly parents. Actually got fired from one job for showing a lady a camera, her son was not amused! So Marsh, keep posting, that's all I have on the glory and danger of cleaning!!

We just need to church it up:

As I removed an unknown goo from the ice box, Mr. Johnson glared at me with his aged eyes and wrinkly skin. "Are you going to clean the restroom?" he said sharply. "Leave me be you old bastard" I said as I thought about stabbing this house key into his eye ball. But I was probably on some kind on nanny cam his children used to keep tabs on him and his wife. I have found them before, and doing so often leads to hurt feelings and unemployment. Besides, this man was so cheap he wouldn't even spring for transportation to the residence he expected me to keep clean. As I continued to toil my thoughts drifted to Marsh and his many adventures. I had better focus, many lives have been lost due to inattentive handling of harsh chemicals and dangerous chores. Besides, I am in the running for custodian of the year and all the accolades it brings.

 

[Pearl]

We just need to church it up:

As I removed an unknown goo from the ice box, Mr. Johnson glared at me with his aged eyes and wrinkly skin. "Are you going to clean the restroom?" he said sharply. "Leave me be you old bastard" I said as I thought about stabbing this house key into his eye ball. But I was probably on some kind on nanny cam his children used to keep tabs on him and his wife. I have found them before, and doing so often leads to hurt feelings and unemployment. Besides, this man was so cheap he wouldn't even spring for transportation to the residence he expected me to keep clean. As I continued to toil my thoughts drifted to Marsh and his many adventures. I had better focus, many lives have been lost due to inattentive handling of harsh chemicals and dangerous chores. Besides, I am in the running for custodian of the year and all the accolades it brings.

MUCH BETTER!!

 

[joel]

Mike Rowe is a great guy.

 

[d_marsh]

Day five:

I have worked dozens of personal security details, some for the wealthy and some for the powerful, all of them very much at risk of being assaulted or killed by those who hate them or those would greatly benefit from their death. I have even worked a few because the people who loved and adored the protected weren’t mentally stable enough to do so without endangering their existence. This assignment was different than the norm. I was protecting a man because a person blamed him for everything that went wrong in their life.

The threat was a husband, father and businessman who had it then lost it all thanks to infidelity, substance abuse, embezzlement and many other poor choices. Someone who started down a dark path, lost control and never regained his footing. So, who is responsible for all of that? Who should take ownership for the cheating, the drugs, the criminal activity and more? Not him of course, not in the modern world. No, it must be the attorney who represented his wife in the dissolution of their marriage. The attorney who masterfully won full custody of the children, retention of most of their once combined assets and ensured the man who failed to be held fully accountable in criminal court would be accountable in family court. The attorney who worked for one of the firms that utilizes the service I provide.

It's one thing when a person wants personal security, a bodyguard to accompany them wherever they go to deter and mitigate threats from every direction. It’s much harder when they refuse but the firm wants it anyway. So, my assignment was simply to keep this person safe when outside of the office, which already has security, without making it obvious that I was there to keep him safe. That’s a tall order. There is nothing simple about protecting someone from far enough away that he doesn’t recognize what you’re doing. Fortunately for me he has an itinerary which, from what I am being told, does not really change.

I donned my nicest suit, strapped on my Sig 9mm and spare mag, collected the Durango and drove to the district courthouse where the protectee would be spending most of the morning. According to the firm’s security director he left the office via a car service just after 8:30am and would arrive shortly. While I waited, I perused the assignment folder and made myself familiar with the man who felt it was a good idea to level a variety of threats via email and telephone communications. Violent threats that on paper were more than enough to concern the partners. I exited the Durango and positioned myself to shadow the protectee as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle. The firm’s security director assured me that courthouse protective services were aware of my presence and that I should have my armed guard license ready when I got to the first checkpoint. But I never made it inside.

Once my protectee was on foot and walking swiftly toward the doors in a suit that likely cost 10x more than mine, I was on him. 15 feet to his left and just behind him, my eyes wide open, matching his speed without being too obvious. As we passed a large, odd monument to something no one cared about, I saw our threat maker. He was sitting on a decorative wood bench, his old hooded sweatshirt stood out from the suits and Sunday dress attire that the rest of the pedestrians were wearing. Too warm for a sweatshirt and way too warm to have the hood up, but it was him. He was gripping something in his right hand and his left hand was in the hoodie’s front pocket. He never saw me as he was solely focused on the attorney. I made a judgement call and decided to stop trailing the protectee and immediately positioned myself a few feet from the person of concern. When he made his move, I would make mine.

In my peripheral vision I could see the attorney reach the entrance and go inside where two armed officers were manning a security checkpoint. The man never moved from his bench. I decided to change my tactics and sat down next to him, quite ready to act if necessary. The once wealthy but now disheveled man looked at me like he was annoyed that I joined him, until I said his name aloud and his eyes turned to me. The item held tightly in his right hand was a small canister of oleoresin capsicum, also known as pepper spray. The small red lever was still in the safe position blocking the button that deployed the liquid within. “How the hell do you know my name!?” the man said. “First do me a favor. Put your pepper spray away and take out your other hand” was my response. Maybe he thought I was a cop, maybe he thought I was a hired goon, either way the canister went into his pocket and both hands went to his knees. I told him it was my job to ensure the safety and security of my client, a client he was familiar with. “The lawyer?” he asked. I nodded in agreement. Then the man did something I did not quite expect, he started to cry. Just a stream of tears at first, then full on sobbing. After a few minutes he was able to collect himself and he put his hands out, as if I were going to apply handcuffs. “I don’t have a gun, just the OC spray and a chunk of pipe”. I told him I was not a police officer and to put his hands down.

The man, still emotional, started to tell me all about how he ****ed his life up and lost everything. How he should have just killed himself, but he wasn’t strong enough to do it. The tears started to flow again. I let him talk, he had a lot to say. He didn’t really seem to blame the lawyer; he was just a convenient place to target his anger and frustration. “I figured I would spray him, then hit him a couple times and end up in jail or prison. At least then I would have food to eat and a place to sleep.” He went on for some time, telling me the story of his downfall into homelessness and despair. He couldn’t even get a job at a local fast-food place because he looked like **** and didn’t have clean clothing. After some time, he said all he had to say except “So, now what?”

I told him I could help him out, but I needed assurances that the attorney was not going to get a face full of hot sauce or knuckles to the face. He let out a sad laugh and said, “I couldn’t even pull that off when I had the chance”. I stood up and invited him to come with me. We walked over to a nearby trash can where I had him toss the pepper spray and a 4” long chunk of tubular metal. Once at the Durango I let him know I had to frisk him before I let him in, he agreed and put his hands on the car as if he knew the position. I patted him down and did not find anything but a cheap cell phone and a wallet. I told him to stand by the door as I went around and opened the driver door, retrieving an envelope from the assignment folder before covering it with my gear bag. I also moved my back up .380 from my left front pants pocket to left suit jacket pocket, making it much easier to access while seated in an SUV.

Once we were both inside, I looked up the address for the cheap motel he had been staying at and punched it into the GPS. “They still have my clothes and stuff, said I need $78 to get it back, but I don’t even have half that.” I told him we would worry about it when we got there. As we traveled, he apologized over and over in a self-deprecating way and talked about how the ketamine controlled him like an omnipotent puppet master. His time in jail and his lack of resources didn’t cure him, but they did remove the drug from his system and clear up his thinking. We arrived and went inside, the surly woman behind the counter looked homeless herself and demanded her money from the broken man. “I covered for you, two ******* nights! You owe me.” I asked how much the room was and she looked me up and down before grunting “$39 a night, $250 a week”. I countered with “How about $500 cash for what he owes plus 2 weeks?” She looked at me again, then looked at the counter in front of her. I removed five $100 bills from the envelope and tossed them on the counter, she scribbled $500/14 days and the date on a receipt and handed it to me. We walked to the room together. On the way I told him “Stay clean, go to meetings, get a job, and get your life back on track. Once you are clean and working, you can petition the court for supervised visitation of your kids. **** up again and you will probably end up dead or in prison.” I also made sure to let him know that targeting the attorney with any additional threats or worse, and I would be coming back for him as a far less generous and helpful person. He reached out to shake my hand, but I just shook my head left to right and back again saying, “Thank me by doing what I just told you to do”. I had him stand against the door and took a picture with my smart phone. I then handed the envelope that still held $100 in smaller bills and reminded him to use it for food, laundry, whatever… just not dope. He thanked me profusely and went inside.

I returned to Durango, thoroughly searched the passenger front seat and surrounding area, then left the parking lot. I reported the day’s events to my contact, and she instructed me to leave the receipt in the folder and said, “And you’re certain he is not a threat?” I replied “Nothing is certain, but he had an opportunity to try something, and he didn’t. So, I don’t believe the firm has anything to worry about.”

 

[Bacpacker]

Hopefully he'll take this opportunity to start getting his $h!t together

 

[d_marsh]

Hopefully he'll take this opportunity to start getting his $h!t together

The one thing I don't care for doing this work, is how often I walk away never knowing what happened or how things turned out. I just do my part then get paid. Even if I asked I don't think my handler would tell me.

 

[Hardcalibres]

The one thing I don't care for doing this work, is how often I walk away never knowing what happened or how things turned out. I just do my part then get paid. Even if I asked I don't think my handler would tell me.

I bet if you asked your handler if it is OK to publish your work on a public forum, she would probably say no.

 

[Weedygarden]

I bet if you asked your handler if it is OK to publish your work on a public forum, she would probably say no.

Probably not, but the details of finding out who these people are is next to impossible. Heck, we cannot even find out what happened to some of our former friends here, because we don't know who they really are.

 

[Hardcalibres]

Probably not, but the details of finding out who these people are is next to impossible. Heck, we cannot even find out what happened to some of our former friends here, because we don't know who they really are.

To the people we have the most reason to fear, we are all an open book.

Never post anything on the web, that you would not be happy to have read out in court.

 

[d_marsh]

I bet if you asked your handler if it is OK to publish your work on a public forum, she would probably say no.

You must not have bothered to read the first post where I went over this and posted a disclaimer that it was all a work of "fiction". Also if anyone is dumb enough to not know how to conceal their identity, obscure certain details and hide their internet traffic they deserve to end up in court.