Los Angeles: 2020

LOS ANGELES: 2020

Girad Clacy

Writers Club Press

San Jose New York Lincoln Shanghai

Los Angeles: 2020

All Rights Reserved © 2000 by Girad Clacy

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press an imprint of iUniverse.com

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ISBN: 0-595-16832-9

ISBN: 978-0-5958-7466-8 (e)

This book is dedicated to the men and women of law enforcement and to those who have served in the line of duty.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER ONE

The sun was setting on the Tel Aviv airport in Israel. Even in January, Israel was warm. There was a slight breeze blowing down the airfield from north to south. At the north end of the airfield, a lonely plane was being pulled from the hangar and moved to the tarmac. The plane was a McDonnell-Douglas DC-8, F series. The last of the long distance, four engine flying planes built. When the plane was being sold off as excess from United Airlines in the year 2002, the City of Los Angeles purchased the plane for a special purpose.

The plane was finally clear of the hangar doors and the painstaking process of turning the large aircraft commenced. Turning the aircraft required several men and trucks. As this job was completed, the ground crew began to make their final checks, as a series of boxes and fuel was loaded aboard. A fuel truck rolled up to the aircraft, stopping under the right wing. The driver stepped out, turning on the pump. As he did this, he pulled out the long, fuel delivery hose and a ladder.

He placed the ladder at the foot of the wing tip, climbing up the ladder onto the wing. Once on the wing with the fuel delivery hose, he inserted the nozzle into the tank. He climbed back down to the truck. Flipping a few switches, the fuel pump started pumping. He looked around the tarmac and the rest of the airfield; it was empty. He looked down for just a moment, when he looked back up military vehicles were starting to become visible on the horizon.

As the military vehicles moved closer to the plane, the front four trucks deployed into a fan around the front end of the plane. The trucks stopped, expelling many people with weapons. They ran like rats to the corners of the airfield. When all was secure, they waved their hands.

Once the area was secured, two more truckloads of men and equipment came onto the tarmac. The fuel man noted that the wing tank was almost full. He stopped the fuel delivery, switching sides of the wing. The whole time Israeli Special Forces were watching his movements. Dedicated men and some women, who were willing to die for their country.

As the dust settled and the sun finally set over the horizon, the fuel tanks were full. The driver of the fuel truck was checked leaving the gate. He was watched carefully until he was out of sight.

Under cover of darkness, Dan Newgate was saying good bye to his new found friends. The two men stood in the silence of the Israeli night, shaking hands for the last time. As Dan was about to board the plane, the Israeli Special Forces Commander, General Seth Malik stopped him.

Your plane is fully fueled and ready for take off. You will be escorted out of Israeli air space by the Israeli Air Force. It has been a pleasure to work with such a fine group of men and women. It is with deep sorrow that you must leave, he said.

I thank you, replied Dan.

Have a safe flight and may Jehovah watch after you, your family and your team. You will be embarking on a mission that so far has had limited success.

As Seth said this, Dan caught a glimmer in the general’s eyes. He was about to cry but held it back in true military fashion. It was hard to say good bye to a group of people that you had spent the last six months with. A large truck pulled up with many boxes labeled for Dan.

What’s in the boxes, sir? asked Dan.

A gift from the Israeli military to your team, replied the general as he made his way to his staff car.

It’s the Desert Eagles aren’t they? said Dan.

Very perceptive.

Good bye general.

Seth stepped into his staff car, letting Dan shut the door. Behind Dan, the turbines were beginning to turn. He headed up the stairs and into the cabin. As he entered the cabin, the copilot shut the door behind him, sealing it shut. The copilot disappeared into the cockpit, leaving Dan alone.

Once the engines had been activated, Dan entered the main cabin to find his team partying. Dan pushed his way passed the crowd, into the next compartment where he sat down in one of the few seats it had. He pulled a briefcase out from underneath the seat, opening it up.

Inside the briefcase was a stack of customs forms, pre filled out by each country’s government, to go with every piece of gear they had aboard. The French had given them explosives to use against almost anything. The Belgium’s gave them four sniper rifles made by Browning. Each of these sniper rifles fired a single round of 50-caliber machine gun and climbing equipment for walls and buildings. The British trained them in night raids, night vision usage and nighttime firing. The Japanese trained them in the best of hand to hand combat techniques.

The Italians trained them in underwater demolition. The Turkish trained them in guerrilla warfare techniques.

The Israelis had provided them with the best possible training in dealing with terrorists.

Dan was part of a new breed of law enforcement officer. He was the leader of a new team that was to deal with terrorism in the city of Los Angeles. This new Special Purpose Anti Terrorism Unit was a detachment working within the Los Angeles Police Department. Dan Newgate was the director of this team and a volunteer. He was stretching out in his seat when Jeffery Lane entered the compartment. Dan could tell by the look on Jeffery Lane’s face, what the question was on his mind.

Don’t worry Jeffery, the entire team will be issued a Desert Eagle upon arrival in Los Angeles, said Dan.

Thank you, sir.

Jeffery stepped out of the compartment, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later the pilot beeped Dan with the Fasten Seat Belts and No Smoking signs. Dan pushed the little button on the left arm of the chair he was sitting. He stood up, opening the door to the other compartment.

Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats, announced Dan.

As the team went to the forward cabin and sat down, Dan checked everyone. After checking them, he went back to the aft cabin. Dan picked up the phone, the pilot answered.

Jim here.

We’re ready to go, said Dan.

Thank you sir. We will be stopping in Miami for fuel.

Estimated flying time back to Los Angeles?

I estimate twenty-three hours.

Good, then I can get some shut eye.

I’ll try to make it a smooth flight, sir.

Thank you.

Dan put the receiver back into the right side of the chair, watching as the plane started to move towards the taxiway. The plane’s lights were brightly shinning; staccato flashes of green and red made it mesmerizing. Dan sat back in his seat, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible for the long flight. On the flight deck, the pilot and copilot readied the plane for take off.

Tel Aviv tower, this is USA1 requesting take off instructions, said Jim.

USA1, this is Tel Aviv tower, proceed to the taxiway. Back taxi on runway 22 left.

Roger that Tel Aviv tower.

The pilot moved the throttle controls forward, making the massive plane move. Jim turned the stick to the right, taxing for several minutes before pausing at the runway threshold.

USA1, hold position on runway threshold. We have inbound traffic at this time.

Roger that, Jim said as he stopped the plane.

A few minutes later, a Boeing 767 landed on the runway. As it disappeared down the asphalt finger, USA1 moved into position for take off.

USA1 this is Tel Aviv tower, Hold position for a weather report and further take off instructions.

Roger that.

A few minutes went by before the plane was allowed to take off.

USA1, this is departure control. Permission granted for take off. Maintain runway heading to 3,000, turning to course 270. Proceed to flight level 12,000. After that, switch over to fly over control frequency 127.5 megahertz.

Roger that departure control. When will our escorts be joining us?

When you have reached flight level 12,000.

Roger that Tel Aviv tower.

The plane lurched forward as Jim pushed the throttles to the firewall. The massive plane lumbered down the runway and into the air a little after 19:00 hours Tel Aviv Israel time. As the plane turned, continuing to climb, Dan fell asleep in his chair.

Dan didn’t wake up the entire flight, including the fuel stop in Miami. He was sleeping comfortably until someone tapping him on his right shoulder awakened him. His first thought was to flip them on their back. He decided to obtain official target identification before making anymore moves. He opened his right eye to discover it was Jeffery Lane.

What time is it? asked Dan. 00:49 hours, Dan.

Seemed like an awfully short flight, he said yawning.

The flight was twenty-two hours and forty-five minutes. You slept through it all.

Jeffery are the trucks here?

Yes, sir and so is customs.

Very well, I have the paperwork right here.

Dan fumbled around for the briefcase, pulling it out from under his seat. He opened it up on the seat next to his, removing the thick stack of paperwork. A few seconds later, Jeffery entered the cabin, escorting Mr. Richard Driscoe, U.S. Customs.

Can I see your customs forms? asked Mr. Driscoe.

They’re all in order.

Thank you.

Mr. Driscoe left with the customs forms without saying another word. Dan walked through the plane, stepping out onto the tarmac of LAX. The sound was deafening as Dan gave the order to load the trucks up and head for the first precinct building.

The trucks were loaded up, being driven out a special gate at LAX. Security was tighter than usual this time at the airport. The convoy took all the back streets until the last possible minute before turning onto the main highway going downtown. There was a police car at every point along the way watching for trouble.

Dan, who was riding in the last utility van, was starting to feel jet lag setting in on him. He was getting stiff in all his joints. To make matters worse, he could feel a headache brewing. He shook his head, trying to use some of the Japanese relaxation exercises. He looked out the van’s window to see the skyline of Los Angeles; he was finally home now.

When the trucks arrived, Dan and his team unloaded the equipment like clockwork. Within hours, the unloading of the equipment and lock up of the weapons was completed. The Desert Eagles were issued out to all team members at this time. Dan gathered his team around him to talk.

Let’s all go home and get some sleep. All Alpha personnel will stay here tonight. All Bravo personnel report back here at 13:00 hours today. I know that it seems like quick time, but it’s going to take time before we are all back on a regular schedule. Good night everyone.

The area was cleared of personnel in a matter of minutes. Dan picked up his briefcase and suitcases. He started walking towards his car. Stepping into it, he headed for home. He was looking forward to seeing his wife and kids. This would be the first time in 18 months that both of them had seen each other; except Christmas.

He pulled into the driveway, shutting the car off. He rested for a minute before getting out of the car, walking the short distance to the front door. To Dan, the short distance seemed a lot longer this time. He opened the front door, stumbling into the living room. The cat that hadn’t seen him in awhile immediately attacked him. Dan went upstairs to the bedroom. Sleep, that elusive beast to him, was almost his.

It was 8:00 am when the letters were delivered to the mayor’s offices in San Diego, San Francisco and Los Angeles. It was a letter from a terrorist named Botan. For years, law enforcement agencies had tried to infiltrate his organization and get him. This was with limited success.

Botan’s demand was for millions in ransom delivered to an undisclosed location. If these demands were not met, millions of people were going to die. The deadline date was February 14, 2020. Terrorism had hit the United States deeper than ever before. New York City, Oklahoma City as well as Baltimore and Philadelphia were favorite targets for terrorists. The question now was, are the cities ready for a mass evacuation or do they trust the newly formed anti-terrorist squads?

Los Angeles’ anti-terrorist squad had stepped off the plane only hours ago. Fresh from training, the mayor was going to call for their services. The mayor pressed the button on his phone for his secretary out front.

Yes, sir? she said.

Get me the chief of police.

Right away, sir.

A few minutes went by before the chief of police called him.

Sir, Chief Holden is on line four.

Thank you, would you also call the mayors of San Francisco and San Diego on a secure line?

Yes, sir.

The mayor pressed the button for line four as he lifted the receiver to his ear. Calmly he spoke into the telephone.

Chief Holden, would you please come to my office right now.

I’ll have to complete up some paperwork here, but I can be to your office in an hour.

An hour sounds fine.

Anything else, sir?

Yes would you bring the director of the anti-terrorism squad with you.

That would be Dan Newgate, I’ll make sure he’s there.

Thank you.

There wasn’t even a second before the secretary buzzed him again. He stood up from his chair, touching the answer button on the phone.

Yes? said Mayor Belton.

I have Mayor Fields of San Francisco and Mayor Swane from San Diego.

Put them on conference call would you.

Yes, sir.

There were some clicks and a whirring noise before the two mayors came on the phone. The phone itself was a secure, direct line for all personnel on the West Coast in case of emergency.

Mayor Fields, Mayor Swane. Have you received a threat letter from someone calling themselves Botan?

I sure have, got mine today, said Mayor Fields.

I got mine yesterday evening, said Mayor Swane.

Between all of us, do we have what he is demanding? asked Mayor Belton.

No, I couldn’t come up with half of what he’s asking. I think he’s bluffing, said Mayor Swane.

Bluffing like New York City, Baltimore, Philadelphia? Do you know how many people died in those cities? replied Mayor Belton.

Thousands I know. But, we don’t pay terrorists not to commit terrorist acts. That’s what we have anti-terrorism squads for right? said Mayor Swane.

I’m not going to risk millions of lives over some bluff. Let’s pool our resources and catch him. As far as I’m concerned, Botan has signed his own death warrant, said Mayor Belton.

I’ll agree with that, we don’t pay terrorists any money. That’s what got me into office and I’m not going to back out on that campaign promise, said Mayor Fields.

What do we do then? We only have 20 days before he carries out his threat, said Mayor Swane.

What we do, Mayor Swane, is place the utmost faith in our anti-terrorism squads to put Botan and his followers out of business; permanently. Come on now Mayor Belton, we all have anti-terrorism squads that are well outfitted and ready for action. Let’s use them, said Mayor Fields.

I’ll use mine to keep an eye on Botan, said Mayor Swane.

Sounds good, but what about you Mayor Belton? asked Mayor Fields.

I’ll use mine to put him out of business. My policy on terrorism is Zero Tolerance. However, if we can’t stop him, we must pay him as our back up plan, said Mayor Belton.

Sounds good enough to me. Good bye, said Mayor Fields.

All right then, please keep me informed of your respective progress. Good bye, said Mayor Swane.

Mayor Belton terminated the conference call, walking back to his desk. He sat down, cracking his knuckles. He picked up his reading glasses, placing them on the bridge of his nose. His secretary came in, giving him a cup of coffee. He looked up at her, smiling.

Is there something I can do for you, sir? she asked.

Yes, would you bring me the file on our anti-terrorism squad please?

Yes, sir.

She left, coming back through the door a few minutes later, carrying a large folder. The folder contained the operating budget for the new squad, giving Mayor Belton a chance to see how well prepared for combat they were. He opened the folder to the synopsis page. He looked it over, raising his eyebrows at the total cost. It was over fifty four percent of the fire department’s budget or roughly one hundred twenty million dollars. The squad wanted some very expensive items that would take some doing to get them.

The Chief of Police Holden, however, was on his way to Dan’s house. He arrived there knocking on the door several times before Dan answered. Dan was wearing his bathrobe, squinting at Chief Holden.

Is there some sort of problem? Dan asked as he faced Holden.

The mayor wants to see us right away, replied Holden.

Okay, let me take a shower and put on some clothes. Won’t you come in?

No thanks, I’ll wait for you in the car.

Dan closed the door, emerging some minutes later half walking, half stumbling to the car. He yawned a little bit to wake himself up from the interruption in his sleep. Finally, Dan realized it would be awhile before he could fall asleep again, so he rolled down the window. The cool air helped to wake him up more than what he was. On the way to the mayor’s office, Chief Holden didn’t say a word to Dan. They arrived at city hall half an hour later than what Chief Holden had promised the mayor.

They rushed from the parking garage to the back door entrance to the mayor’s office. When they arrived there, the mayor set down the file folder, taking off his glasses. The mayor stood up from his desk, shaking hands with both men.

Thank you for coming on such short notice, said Mayor Belton.

It’s good to be here mayor, but nobody has told me why I was invited, said Dan Newgate.

You are here because I asked you to be here and I want to give you this, said Mayor Belton.

The mayor reached into his jacket pocket, withdrawing the ransom note. It was already sealed in a plastic evidence bag and tagged for the police department’s crime lab. He handed the note to Dan who briefly read some of the writing before handing it over to Holden. Holden looked at it, putting it into a large evidence envelope.

Mr. Newgate, we are going to set the precedence here on this situation. What we do now, will be the basis for all future operations concerning terrorism and terrorists. All cities across the nation will be watching you, so don’t make a mistake, said Mayor Belton.

I gather you want my team to neutralize this threat, before it becomes a reality, sir? asked Dan.

My policy is zero tolerance to terrorism and terrorists. As far as I’m concerned, he has a death warrant issued for him. But, you didn’t hear me say that.

"Yes sir, I understand