Sons of Liberty: The Right to Bear Arms
Nov. 9th, 2011 08:19 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsKane and Brand are brought in to speak to Duncan regarding a new case.
"Sit. This is not a fun one." Duncan said immediately as Brand and Kane entered the office. The older man was deep into a pile of files, and all of his nervous stress habits were on display - the tapping pen; the consistent shifting between pages; and the splatter marks around his Cubs coffee mug. The Deputy Assistant Director of the FBI was agitated about something in a big way. As they took their seats, he reached up to kill the overhead lights with a remote, and then flipped on the flat screen television mounted against the wall beside his desk. A few clicks of his laptop keyboard brought up a file into the display, and a series of pictures open.
"This is Tisdale, California. Typical town off the highway, notable for absolutely nothing other than not being notable. Couple of mainstay manufacturing plants, some farming, more recent property development to attract those looking for the ex-exburb experience. ATF and DEA are pretty sure that Tisdale is a stop on the road for a couple of different criminal smuggling rings - plenty of small barns and warehouses out on the backroads to make a quiet exchange. The local police presence is small and insular, and state troopers focus on the highway." The overhead image of the area disappeared, and a new one came on to the screen. This one was a two story warehouse, built on the cheap out of corrugated steel and wood. Long lines of rust streaked down from the roof, but the main doors had new looking locks and the gravel drive showed signs of regular, recent use.
"ATF picked up a lead about a shipment of high end military grade weaponry being offloaded at this location. According to their contact, it was mostly assault rifles and small munitions: grenades, C-4, 40mm ammo, that kind of stuff. They think the local cops keep the smuggling groups tipped off because of the money they make keeping a blind eye. So, the ATF coordinated with the state troopers for a raid, froze out the locals, and at 5:15 yesterday afternoon, hit the warehouse." Duncan paused, and clicked the next picture. "As you can see, all three lead agents were killed, along with two state troopers before they pulled out. Smoke was deployed and the task force lost the suspects in minutes of the pursuit."
"Obviously more than a local criminal smuggling ring," Brand observed drily, looking at the pictures dispassionately. "Do we have any leads?"
"When the troopers finally took the warehouse, they discovered a message pinned to one of the dead agents. Recognize the quote?" Duncan clicked the monitor over, and the message was displayed: "Who are the militia? Are they not ourselves? Is it feared, then, that we shall turn our arms each man 'gainst his own bosom. Congress have no power to disarm the militia. Their swords, and every other terrible implement of the soldier, are the birthright of an American...the unlimited power of the sword is not in the hands of either the federal or state governments, but, where I trust in God it will ever remain, in the hands of the people."
Kane looked puzzled. "Sounds like some kind of ring-wing NRA thing?"
"It's a quote from Tench Coxe, a political economist. He's popular among the right wing because of his stance on personal militias." Brand glanced at Kane, then focused on Duncan. "Apparently our gun runners aren't picky about who they sell to and they've fallen in with some of the more rabidly right-wing crazies."
"Which is how we linked it with a number of other incidents in California. Mostly attacks on government labs and facilities linked with the DoD. Each attack had a similar quote left behind, each labelled as the work of the 'Sons of Liberty'."
"Sons of Liberty? That's a new one."
"Maybe. We've never had that name on our watch list before, but we did a number of searches, and we got a hit on the name. It was registered as the name of a group in the 1950s who were focused on veterans' rights - mostly health care and therapy, following the Korean War. The last mention of their activity was in the early 70s, when they agreed to fold themselves into the larger VA groups." Duncan said. "It could just be a coincidence. The Sons of Liberty isn't exactly the most original name for a patriot's group."
"The name might not be, but DoD targets sounds a little too much of a coincidence for a group championing veterans' rights." Brand sounded thoughtful. "And I'm presuming from the fact it’s coming through this department we've got a mutant connection?"
"We got some shaky video in three of the attacks, along with some eye witness accounts which show men with what look like enhanced physical abilities. We can't be sure, but it looks like it's a strong possibility." Duncan said, and finally clicked off the monitor. "I want you both to head to California and look into these attacks."
"Any leads other than this older group?"
"Possibly. One of the original founders lives in New York City - James Barnes."
"The photographer?"
"That's him. The Agency just sent over his file. Turns out he was CIA for almost twenty years." Duncan scribbled down an address. Kane took it, and stopped his shock from showing when he immediately recognized the address as the Brownstone.
"There were some rumours about this Barnes character at SHIELD earlier on this year. We never could get anything solid, but it wouldn't be the first time he's been involved in something strange." Brand turned to Kane, a smile tugging at her lips. "Our first case as partners. Isn't it special? And a trip to California as well." Obviously she was restraining herself from saying anything else, given Duncan's presence.
"Yeah. First round is on you." Kane said off-handedly. "Dunc-"
"Don't call me Dunc."
"Look, if this has government ties, are we running this investigation clean, or is this a situation where the second we find anything, a half dozen weenies from the Pentagon suddenly crawl up our ass and slap 'Top Secret' on every clue we dig up?"
"Maybe."
Brand smirked. "Ooh, government cover-ups and right wing conspiracies. Where's Robert Ludlum when you need him?"
"Three dead ATF agents, Agent Brand. This isn't a joke." He tossed a couple of tickets on his desk. "The field offices in San Francisco and Los Angeles have been tasked to provide you whatever help you need. The ATF is going haywire on this, and there's political pressure for a quick solution. We need to get on top of this as soon as possible."
"Of course, sir." The smirk left Brand's face, to be replaced by her professional veneer. "We'll get to the bottom of this, you can be sure of it."
"Sit. This is not a fun one." Duncan said immediately as Brand and Kane entered the office. The older man was deep into a pile of files, and all of his nervous stress habits were on display - the tapping pen; the consistent shifting between pages; and the splatter marks around his Cubs coffee mug. The Deputy Assistant Director of the FBI was agitated about something in a big way. As they took their seats, he reached up to kill the overhead lights with a remote, and then flipped on the flat screen television mounted against the wall beside his desk. A few clicks of his laptop keyboard brought up a file into the display, and a series of pictures open.
"This is Tisdale, California. Typical town off the highway, notable for absolutely nothing other than not being notable. Couple of mainstay manufacturing plants, some farming, more recent property development to attract those looking for the ex-exburb experience. ATF and DEA are pretty sure that Tisdale is a stop on the road for a couple of different criminal smuggling rings - plenty of small barns and warehouses out on the backroads to make a quiet exchange. The local police presence is small and insular, and state troopers focus on the highway." The overhead image of the area disappeared, and a new one came on to the screen. This one was a two story warehouse, built on the cheap out of corrugated steel and wood. Long lines of rust streaked down from the roof, but the main doors had new looking locks and the gravel drive showed signs of regular, recent use.
"ATF picked up a lead about a shipment of high end military grade weaponry being offloaded at this location. According to their contact, it was mostly assault rifles and small munitions: grenades, C-4, 40mm ammo, that kind of stuff. They think the local cops keep the smuggling groups tipped off because of the money they make keeping a blind eye. So, the ATF coordinated with the state troopers for a raid, froze out the locals, and at 5:15 yesterday afternoon, hit the warehouse." Duncan paused, and clicked the next picture. "As you can see, all three lead agents were killed, along with two state troopers before they pulled out. Smoke was deployed and the task force lost the suspects in minutes of the pursuit."
"Obviously more than a local criminal smuggling ring," Brand observed drily, looking at the pictures dispassionately. "Do we have any leads?"
"When the troopers finally took the warehouse, they discovered a message pinned to one of the dead agents. Recognize the quote?" Duncan clicked the monitor over, and the message was displayed: "Who are the militia? Are they not ourselves? Is it feared, then, that we shall turn our arms each man 'gainst his own bosom. Congress have no power to disarm the militia. Their swords, and every other terrible implement of the soldier, are the birthright of an American...the unlimited power of the sword is not in the hands of either the federal or state governments, but, where I trust in God it will ever remain, in the hands of the people."
Kane looked puzzled. "Sounds like some kind of ring-wing NRA thing?"
"It's a quote from Tench Coxe, a political economist. He's popular among the right wing because of his stance on personal militias." Brand glanced at Kane, then focused on Duncan. "Apparently our gun runners aren't picky about who they sell to and they've fallen in with some of the more rabidly right-wing crazies."
"Which is how we linked it with a number of other incidents in California. Mostly attacks on government labs and facilities linked with the DoD. Each attack had a similar quote left behind, each labelled as the work of the 'Sons of Liberty'."
"Sons of Liberty? That's a new one."
"Maybe. We've never had that name on our watch list before, but we did a number of searches, and we got a hit on the name. It was registered as the name of a group in the 1950s who were focused on veterans' rights - mostly health care and therapy, following the Korean War. The last mention of their activity was in the early 70s, when they agreed to fold themselves into the larger VA groups." Duncan said. "It could just be a coincidence. The Sons of Liberty isn't exactly the most original name for a patriot's group."
"The name might not be, but DoD targets sounds a little too much of a coincidence for a group championing veterans' rights." Brand sounded thoughtful. "And I'm presuming from the fact it’s coming through this department we've got a mutant connection?"
"We got some shaky video in three of the attacks, along with some eye witness accounts which show men with what look like enhanced physical abilities. We can't be sure, but it looks like it's a strong possibility." Duncan said, and finally clicked off the monitor. "I want you both to head to California and look into these attacks."
"Any leads other than this older group?"
"Possibly. One of the original founders lives in New York City - James Barnes."
"The photographer?"
"That's him. The Agency just sent over his file. Turns out he was CIA for almost twenty years." Duncan scribbled down an address. Kane took it, and stopped his shock from showing when he immediately recognized the address as the Brownstone.
"There were some rumours about this Barnes character at SHIELD earlier on this year. We never could get anything solid, but it wouldn't be the first time he's been involved in something strange." Brand turned to Kane, a smile tugging at her lips. "Our first case as partners. Isn't it special? And a trip to California as well." Obviously she was restraining herself from saying anything else, given Duncan's presence.
"Yeah. First round is on you." Kane said off-handedly. "Dunc-"
"Don't call me Dunc."
"Look, if this has government ties, are we running this investigation clean, or is this a situation where the second we find anything, a half dozen weenies from the Pentagon suddenly crawl up our ass and slap 'Top Secret' on every clue we dig up?"
"Maybe."
Brand smirked. "Ooh, government cover-ups and right wing conspiracies. Where's Robert Ludlum when you need him?"
"Three dead ATF agents, Agent Brand. This isn't a joke." He tossed a couple of tickets on his desk. "The field offices in San Francisco and Los Angeles have been tasked to provide you whatever help you need. The ATF is going haywire on this, and there's political pressure for a quick solution. We need to get on top of this as soon as possible."
"Of course, sir." The smirk left Brand's face, to be replaced by her professional veneer. "We'll get to the bottom of this, you can be sure of it."
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