Being the handler of a person who is undercover can be a very tough job. You would need to request for information constantly without blowing the person’s cover. And if you are someone like me who is kindhearted and always thinking about the welfare of others, you will always be worried as you wonder if the person is safe.
I was the head of a special investigative unit in California. The unit had been created by the California Police Department, and it involved the skillset of a lot of people. Under my command, I had agents who were experts in narcotics, kidnapping, trafficking, and so on.
The unit was created just a little over a year ago, and we had already put over a hundred criminals behind bars. We usually get offers for help from other law enforcement agencies because of how fast we close our cases. Most of the time, we even get offers of help from international agencies like Interpol and others, especially when the criminals they are trying to catch comes to California.
Our current was a bit dicey. We were after a terrorist named Albert Franklin, who had bombed a senator’s house three weeks before. Normally, the FBI should be in charge of the investigation. However, they have found out that this terrorist had spies in the FBI. It was a thing of shame in a way that FBI could be penetrated that way.
In order to catch the spies and also keep the news from the media, the deputy director of the FBI had met with me and asked for help. It had been my pleasure to provide the help he needed.
The first thing I had done was send out feelers to know how we can be able to solve the problem. The results showed that there was a gang that was close to the terrorist could be infiltrated, which meant we needed someone to work undercover. Phil Hawkins was one of the best undercover agents that I had so I gave him the job.
Two months later, Phil got a breakthrough and informed me that he had information about the whereabouts of the terrorist and information about another attack planned by him in two days. It was a matter of urgency so I told him to meet me and another of the unit member, Sophie, somewhere in the Mojave Desert at a stipulated time.
Sophie and I got dirt bikes that were full of fuel, and we rode to the rendezvous point. We were there one hour, waiting for Phil to arrive. There were so many rocks around us and after looking around with binoculars, we were satisfied that we were the ones around.
A few minutes to the set time, we saw a vehicle moving in the distance. When I set my binoculars to it, I saw that there were two vehicles and one was chasing the other. In the vehicle behind was a man in the passenger seat who was shooting at the vehicle in front. Phil was in trouble.
“It’s Phil,” I told Sophie. “He needs help right now.”
We got on our dirt bikes and rode towards the vehicles. We also had our guns in hand. Soon, we could see the vehicles. Sophie and I separated, and Phil drove past us. We opened fire on the other vehicles. The driver was hit, and the vehicle lost control, smashed into a rock and exploded but not before the driver, and the shooter dived out.
Sophie and I rode back towards Phil’s vehicle. He stopped the car and got out. The car was peppered with bullets. Phil had a document in his hand, and he had been hit in the shoulder.
“Are you alright?” I asked him.
“I will leave,” he said. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you guys. The fuel had run out, and I would have been dead by now.”
“I am glad you are okay,” I said.
He gave me the document. “This is all the plans of that bastard. We have to stop him. The attack is tomorrow.”
As I was checking out the document, we suddenly heard the sound of a helicopter.
“Oh crap, that’s Albert Franklin’s helicopter,” Phil said.
“He has a helicopter?”
Sophie focused her binoculars towards the direction where Phil and the other vehicle had come from. “I count six dirt bikes and four vehicles.”
“We have to go,” I said. “Phil, you are with me. Hold me very tightly.”
We got on our dirt bikes and sped away. The helicopter, the dirt bikes, and the four vehicles chased after us. Although we could outrun the vehicles on the ground, the helicopter was a very big problem.
“Sophie, can you call for backup?” I shouted across at her.
“I can try,” she replied.
The helicopter was soon close to us, and someone began to shoot. I moved the dirt bike in a zigzag position as I tried to dodge the bullets from the shooter. Sophie did the same.
“Do you have a gun?” Phil shouted in my ear. “I can shoot the shooter on the helicopter.”
“Check my leg holster,” I shouted back.
Just as I made the bike jump over a small rock outcropping, I felt Phil pull my pistol out of my leg holster. Immediately we landed, he began to fire at the helicopter. I didn’t bother to look to see if his shots were getting to his targets. Phil was an expert shot, so I figured that the guys in the helicopter were in more danger than we were.
“Backup will be here in ten minutes,” Sophie shouted.
“We don’t have ten minutes,” I shouted as Phil fired more shots behind me.
“Got him!” Phil shouted.
“Who?” I shouted back.
“Oh… uh… I think we need to move faster. The helicopter is going to crash on us.”
I looked back and saw that the helicopter was moving fan over tail as it crashed towards the ground in our direction. The dirt bike was already in its topmost speed, so I veered away from the path of the wounded helicopter.
The helicopter crashed and exploded on the same spots we were a few seconds before. The heat waves threatened to blow us off the bike, but I held fast. Backup arrived, and the criminals who were chasing us turned back.