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Undercover RoseChapter 102 free porn video
Since my new schedule seemed to be set until noon anyway I began to enjoy the few afternoons off Steve allowed me. I wasn't supposed to be working at the farm any longer, but things kept coming up. I began to wonder if the term of the lease was going to be enough time for him to pick up all the nuances of the pot business. Of course that got filed in my mind under 'Not my problem'.
I wasn't at all surprised when at breakfast on a Friday, Steve asked, "Rose are you going to be busy today?"
"Well I have to inspect building number two's renovations, why?" I asked.
"I need you to keep me from killing someone," Steve said.
"Don't they have meetings for that kind of thing," I said with a laugh. He really did look upset. Obviously Sterlin knew what was wrong but Bart and I were in the dark.
"Very funny," he said.
"So what's the problem?" I asked expecting it to be a late delivery or something harmless.
"Some clown sent me a letter that came yesterday," he said. "The letter said he was going to plant a bio-bomb in our greenhouses unless we paid him protection money. Some kind of mold spore."
"I see, do we know who he is?" I asked.
"No, if I knew he would already be dead," Steve said.
"Well that's a new threat to me. I never heard of such a thing. Bio extortion," I said. "So did you save the letter?" Steve passed a plastic bag over to me with the letter inside.
"I doubt you can do anything with it," he said.
"You just never know," I said. "First of all we are not going to kill anyone, yet. We are going to call the Federal Police. We are not going to call the Rural Police they are useless. We are going to call the Feds who will probably bring in Homeland Security. This, my young, friend is bio terrorism. So when and how are we supposed to pay."
"They want the money digitally transferred somewhere. They are going to call day after tomorrow to give us the account," Steve said.
"God there are so many things we could do, but I think we need a computer hacker to follow the money. When do we need to pay it, the same day we get the information?"
"I think so. He says he will know if we alert the cops and will launch the attack," Steve said.
"The only way to prevent it is to find him and neutralize him. We could easily lose everything," I said. I wasn't all that concerned since I had moved on from the farm but it still pissed me off. We sterilized everything just to prevent that kind of infection. It was a concern for sure. It would be easy to introduce something into the closed environment of a greenhouse for sure.
Before I called it terrorism, I decided I needed to talk to a cop for advice. I only knew one I trusted. Special Agent Mission who had moved up since my days working for her. Mission was with the Federal Police of course as everyone else in law enforcement was in those days. She had moved up to what had once been the FBI headquarters in Washington DC.
I had no idea how they assigned cases and that is what I wanted to know. Who do I talk to about it? I asked myself. I decided to ask Mission once I found her. I had to call everyone I knew to find someone who knew where she was working. They finally gave me enough information to locate her in DC. She was working from a desk inside the Federal Police Investigation Force. Like I said the new replacement for the FBI.
When I found her for sure, I dug out one of my old burner phones and followed the directions to activate it. It could be traced with my bank transfer for the activation but not in time to listen to a live conversation.
"This is Rose Seabold, do you remember me Agent Mission?" I asked when I finally got her on the phone well after lunch.
"Of course I remember you. I might have forgotten, but your profile gets pulled every once in a while," she said.
"Oh why is that?" I asked.
"Some of it is training and some of it is for further investigation. Nothing ever stuck to you, but I do wonder if it will now that Sylvia is gone?" Mission questioned.
"Not me, I don't do that any more. I haven't for a long time," I said.
"I heard about the one that went wrong in the Islands. Glad to hear you made it out in one piece." she commented. Then went on, "So Rose what can I do for you."
"Did you know I owned a pot farm," I asked.
"No I didn't know that. So what kind of favor do you need?" she asked.
"I wanted to ask what you know about bio terrorism? Have you heard of anyone trying to extort money by threatening bio sabotage?" I asked.
"Hold on let me check," she suggested. She came back on the line several minutes later. "Okay I got something. A pot farmer in Florida had blue mold released into his fields. It cost him a million dollars in lost crops. He refused to pay an extortion demand. Since he didn't pay and didn't report it till after the mold, the trail got cold quickly."
"So do you know anything at all about the guy who planted the mold," I asked.
"No, he got away clean. It may not even be the same extortionist. Word got out in the criminal community, so it might be a copy cat. Would you like me to send you an agent?" Mission asked.
"I'm sure as hell not going to pay him. If you want to take a crack at him, I will cooperate. If not we can handle it I'm sure," I said.
"The Special Terrorism Task Force will be in touch. The farm crops are too important to risk destruction," Mission said. She seemed to be taking it more seriously than I would have expected for some reason.
"Okay but try not to look like cops when you come," I suggested.
"I won't be along, but yeah I'll pass it on," Mission said. She added a pretty limp wrist goodbye.
"Well fuck you very much," I said into the dead phone.
"Steve," I said into the burner. "I called some people, if they show up in time to help us fine, if not we will take care of it ourselves. One thing we are not going to do is pay the extortionist. One way or another we will take care of this."
"Good, so let me get this straight. We are going to give the FBI a shot, or is it homeland security?" he asked.
"I have no idea, I called my only high level contact in the Federal Police Force. She is going to send someone to talk to us. Whoever that someone is we are going to cooperate. Cooperation does not mean we are going to lay down and get screwed," I replied.
"Good, that's what Sterlin and I want to do. We want to go after the fucker," Steve said.
"If the cops can't get it right and we can find him, we will do just that. I promise."
"We had been given three days to raise the money. I had the money, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give it to someone else. They might ruin me, but I had started over more than once with less.
I knew that I could walk away. That knowledge is why I never borrowed money for a project. Nobody else was on the hook, if I fucked up. Even if my cash, which was all more or less earned legally at the moment, got tied up, there was always my batteries filled with small easy to move diamonds and some gold and silver. Those were all nice and portable assets.
Unfortunately I doubted that Steve and Sterlin had that kind of back up. So for their sake and that of the dogs, I wasn't going to let some asshole leg breaker into my life. Well not for more than five minutes after I found him.
With that in mind I decided I had less faith in the Federal Police than I did in myself. Once I made the decision I placed a message on a bicycle message board. It was on of those sites that Forensics Ink monitored. Forensics Ink was the alias for Wilson.
I think I am having trouble with gremlins in my trike. I need a master diagnostician. The message I left read.
I banged around the net for a while but nothing happened, so I went to dinner. When I came back I went back on the net to do research on cannabis's natural enemies. It appeared that the introduction of mold into the closed environment would be devastating, not to mention expensive on a grand scale.
I called Steve late that night. "Steve I want you to place all our extra seeds in airtight containers, then bring them to me in the morning. I plan to bank them in the unused basement of building one. If the bastard does get the houses we will have the seeds to start again."
"You don't think it will come to that do you?" Steve asked.
"Not if I can help it," I suggested. "But I also want to plan for every contingency."
Under the watch pot law of perversity, I checked the bicycle message board just before bedtime.
So what seems to be your problem. I have a trike as well maybe I can help. The message was sign WET BUT NOT COLD.
I guess I need someone who knows how to trace a problem. I expect I will call in a day or two. I also included the coded number for the burner cell phone
It was the middle of the night when my burner phone rang. "What do you want now?" the voice said from the bottom of a barrel. "When do you think we will ever be finished with one another?"
"As long as I live and have the scars from my time in prison, you are going to owe me you prick. You are only alive because you can be useful," I said.
"Look I made a mistake, it is as simple as that," the voice said.
"It is never as simple as that. The more I think about it, the harder it is to believe you weren't part of set up," I said.
"I had nothing to do with that cruise ship fiasco," he said.
"Mr. Fix It, it is all connected. A butterfly farts in the Amazon and a hurricane forms. You burned me in New York and I wind up in a jungle prison. It's all connected."
"What is that some kind of perverted Zen?" he asked.
"No that's why you are going to trace an Internet account when it come to me. I'm supposed to move some money into the account within ten minutes of its location being sent to me. You are going to trace it before the bad guy figures out that instead of 100k I sent him $10. The call will come to you day after tomorrow. The old FBI guys are going to try as well, but you are going to do it right," I said.
"Or what?" he asked.
"Or all the devils in hell can't protect you," I said. "I have a new understanding of pain. One you will learn to appreciate if you fuck with me. Neither of us have Porter to protect us now," I said seriously.
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