Otis (5 page)

“And Hell’s Fury was also a 1%er club?” Kurt asked.

“Yes Sir, we were,” Jackson responded.

“When a 1% club who has claimed territory - for this sake I’ll call them the parent club -has another club ride into the territory without permission, wearing their colors including a lower rocker claiming the
same
territory, how does the parent club perceive this trespass?” Kurt asked.

Avery slapped her hand against my bicep.

“You see what he’s doing?” she whispered.

I nodded my head. “Shhh.”

“As disrespectful. As a threat,” Jackson responded.

“A threat?” Kurt asked as if he were shocked.

Avery slapped my arm again.

“Yes Sir.”

“And when a 1% club makes a threat, what might that threat include, generally speaking?” Kurt asked.

“Violence,” Jackson shrugged.

“Violence. I see. Let me back up a little bit, to where we were before. This club, the Hell’s Fury, these fellas were your
family
, is that correct?” Kurt asked.

“Yes Sir,” Jackson nodded.

“I see. And when agent Blackburn asked you what you’d do if they came into your territory, wearing a lower rocker claiming Texas as if it their own, what was your fear, if any?” Kurt asked.

Avery slapped her hand against my arm again. I glanced toward Sydney, who was seated on my right side. She sat between Toad and I staring straight ahead, waiting for her brother’s response. As Avery gripped my left arm in her hand, Sydney’s brother responded.

“They were a rival club, always causing problems and talking…” Jackson paused and turned toward the judge.

The judge looked down at Jackson and nodded his head.

“Talking shit. Saying they were going to do this, and do that. If they rode in wearing their colors, I guess my fear was that they’d probably kill us, or at least try,” Jackson responded.

“So, your eventual response to ATF agent Blackburn was one more of protection than of aggression, was it not?” Kurt asked.

“Objection, your honor. He’s leading the witness,” the prosecutor hollered.

“Granted. Rephrase your question,” the judge said.

Avery squeezed my arm.

“Why did you eventually respond in the manner you did to the ATF agent? Agreeing that you’d kill members of the Shovelheads if they came to town?” Kurt asked.

Jackson grinned slightly.

“I didn’t realize he was an agent. At the time, he was a brother, part of my family. And my fear was that the Shovelheads MC might hurt him or some of my other brothers. My thoughts at the time were that I needed to protect my family,” Jackson responded.

“Your
only
family?” Kurt asked.

“Yes Sir, my only family,” Jackson responded.

Avery released my arm from her grip.

“Fuck yes,” she whispered as she slapped her hand against my thigh.

“No further questions for this witness, your honor,” Kurt said flatly.

I turned toward the prosecutor, who slowly stood from his seat.

“The prosecution rests, your honor,” the prosecutor stated.

“Your honor, I have only one witness to question. In lieu of a recess, and in an effort to please the court, may I call my witness and possibly wrap this up?” Kurt asked.

“One?” the judge asked.

“Yes Sir,” Kurt responded.

The judge turned toward the prosecutor. The prosecutor shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no objections,” the prosecutor sighed.

“Very well. My time, the court’s time, is precious. In an effort to expedite this trial, we will continue. Call your witness,” the judge stated.

“Your honor, I call Special Agent Randall Blackburn,” Kurt said as he turned to face the agent.

“Oh yeah. This is going to be
good
,” Avery whispered.

Personally, I couldn’t imagine it being any better than it was. I realized I didn’t fully understand all of the intricacies of the law the way Avery did, but from what I’d seen, Kurt was butchering the prosecution. His way of obtaining the answers he wanted from the witnesses was without much fault.

“Let’s take a ten minute recess for the bathroom,” the judge said as he looked up at the clock.

“2:13. I ask that everyone return to my courtroom no later than 2:13,” the judge said as he studied the clock.

“I just want this to be over,” Sydney sighed as the US Marshall led the jury from the room.

“It’ll be over pretty soon,” I responded.

“Those fucking ATF agents,” Axton whispered.

I turned to my left to face Axton and leaned forward, resting my hands on my thighs.

“Rotten pricks. I’d like to line every one of them up, and do the world a favor by killing each and every one of ‘em,” he hissed.

“Be careful,” I whispered as I raised one eyebrow and glanced along the ranks of Sinners seated in the courtroom, “there might be one amongst us.”

“Not in
my
club,” he said as he shook his head, “I guarantee it.”

OTIS

With a shaved head, a twelve inch long beard, and his arms covered in tattoos, Special Agent Blackburn appeared to be a biker, not an ATF agent. Sitting on the witness stand, he looked like he was pulled from the yard in prison, fitted with some fancy dress clothes, and placed in the court room. Studying him caused me to realize how little a person
really
knows about who it is at his side.

“Agent Blackburn, how many years have you been with the ATF, as an agent?” Kurt asked.

“Eighteen,” Blackburn responded.

In your eighteen years, have you worked in the field in an undercover capacity?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, most of my career has been undercover,” Blackburn nodded.

“Generally speaking, when you work undercover, do you wear some form of electronic listening device -
a wire
?” Kurt asked.

“We try to. It isn’t something that can always be done, but if possible, yes,” Blackburn responded as he adjusted himself in the seat.

Kurt nodded his head, “Is it done to preserve, or more accurately, to support your investigation?”

Blackburn sat up straight in his seat and spoke directly into the microphone, “Yes. The recordings support the agent’s testimony, and provide corroboration in court of the events described in the investigation and in the daily reports.”

“So wearing a wire sounds like it’s a procedural matter. Is that correct?” Kurt asked as he stepped to the side of the lectern.

“Yes Sir, it is,” Blackburn responded.

“Thank you for clearing that up, Special Agent Blackburn,” Kurt said in a somewhat sarcastic tone as he took a step toward the witness stand.

Kurt stepped to the side of the lectern and placed his hands on his hips. “How many times did you ask the defendant if he would retaliate against the Hell’s Fury before he responded in a manner contrary to law?”

“Two,” Blackburn responded in a matter of fact tone.

“Two?” Kurt asked, the tone of his voice filled with annoyance.

“Yes, two,” Blackburn nodded.

Kurt slowly raised his hands in the air and turned his palms outward, “Not six or eight?”

“No Sir. Two,” Blackburn said flatly.

Kurt shrugged his shoulders slightly and took another step toward the witness stand, “Are you certain?”

“Very,” Blackburn responded.

Kurt nodded his head as if accepting Blackburn’s response as accurate.

“I’ve read the transcripts from the original trial. Have you made reference to them?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, yes I have,” Blackburn stated.

“Your initial testimony was the same? Two?” Kurt asked as if he knew the answer, but simply sought confirmation.

“Yes Sir,” Blackburn responded as he reached for the glass of water sitting in front of him.

Kurt turned away from the witness stand, and slowly began to take the two or three steps toward the lectern, facing the jury as he spoke, “As an ATF agent, you receive training in regard to law, do you not?”

Blackburn nodded his head, “Some, yes.”

“Training to assure you will follow policies and procedures in accordance with law, and not contrary to it, correct?” he asked as he reached the lectern.

“That is correct,” Blackburn responded as he lowered the glass of water to the platform in front of him.

“Would two requests, with the second response by the defendant being contrary to law, in your professional trained opinion, legally define coercion, inducement, or enticement?” Kurt asked.

Blackburn shook his head and chuckled, “No Sir, it sure wouldn’t. Absolutely not. Asking him twice is not coercion or inducement.”

“Out of curiosity, if that number was six or eight, would it define coercion?” Kurt asked.

After a short hesitation, Blackburn responded as he leaned toward the microphone, “It may.”

“And your lengthy training with the ATF included instructions and training
not
to badger, coerce, induce, or entice a law abiding citizen to commit a crime, correct?” Kurt asked.

“That is correct,” Blackburn nodded.

“Under oath, the defendant stated he was asked no less than six times. You have stated you asked him twice. According to your earlier testimony, six would define coercion, inducement, and or entrapment, and you merely asked him twice. I’m wondering, are you telling the truth or is he?” Kurt asked flatly.

“Objection!” the prosecutor howled.

“Counsel…” the judge said flatly.

“I’ll advise you not to answer the question,” the judge stated as he turned toward the witness.

The judge turned toward the jury.

“Be it known the witness is under oath and sworn to tell the truth,” the judge said.

“How long was your investigation of the Hell’s Fury?” Kurt asked.

“Two years and one month,” Blackburn responded.

“And in that time, twenty-five months, how many arrests were made?” Kurt asked.

“One,” Blackburn sighed.

“One? A twenty-five month long investigation of an Outlaw Motorcycle Gang, and it only produced
one
arrest?” Kurt asked.

“Yes,” Blackburn responded as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Did the ATF make a decision not to prosecute the other cases?” Kurt asked.

“There were no other cases,” Blackburn said under his breath.

“You successfully infiltrated an outlaw gang of motorcycle thugs for twenty-five months, and produced this as your only case? Seems more like they were a group of good old boys, not an OMG,” Kurt said flatly.

“Your honor, I object. It appears the defense counsel has chosen to provide his own testimony,” the prosecutor snapped.

“I’ll ask the jury to strike the last statement made by the prosecutor. Counsel, you have been warned,” the judge said as he raised his index finger in the air.

Kurt leaned onto the lectern and pressed his chest onto the platform. Now staring at the ATF agent, he cleared his throat.

Avery slapped my arm and whispered into my ear, “He’s going to make a point. He wants the jury’s attention.”

“In discovery, I requested the voice recording of the conversation on the night of the instant offence. I was advised it did not exist in legible format. Are you aware of the lack of availability of said recording?” Kurt asked.

“Yes Sir, I am. Unfortunately, the recording device did not work properly on that evening, and background noise made the recording worthless,” Blackburn responded.

“I was provided recorded conversations before and after the date in question. In fact, I have a few hundred hours of recorded conversations. Almost four hundred hours if memory serves me correctly. Now, my question to you is as follows…” Kurt paused and turned to face the jury.

“Agent Blackburn, how many conversations through the course of the investigation were unintelligible, to the best of your knowledge, that is?” Kurt asked as he continued to face the jury.

“One,” Blackburn breathed.

Kurt turned toward the witness stand, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear your response. Can you speak into the microphone?”

Blackburn leaned forward and breathed into the microphone, “One.”

Kurt nodded his head and chuckled lightly.

“I’m curious. During your infiltration of the group of outlaw bikers, did you give them your
actual
name?” he asked.

“No,” Blackburn chuckled.

“Did you make one up?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, I did,” Blackburn responded.

“Did you give them an accurate history of who you were?” Kurt asked.

“No Sir, I provided fictitious information. Information believed to be more acceptable to the type of people I was investigating,” Blackburn said.

“So you lied. You told lies to the bikers to get them to either like you or accept you, is that correct?” Kurt asked.

“I object!” the prosecutor bellowed as he stood from his seat.

“Your honor,” Kurt sighed, “The witness stated he provided inaccurate information to the group during his investigation. I’m simply…”

“I’ll rephrase the question,” Kurt said as he gripped the edges of the lectern in his massive hands.

“Was the information you provided the bikers regarding your background and or name the truth?” Kurt asked.

“No,” Blackburn sighed.

“Was it a lie?” Kurt asked.

“Objection, your honor,” the prosecutor said as he stood.

“I’ll allow it, but you shall make your point in a timely manner, counsel,” the judge said.

“Yes,” Blackburn said as he leaned into the back of his seat.

“Explain your thought process to me on lying to these men during the investigation. Why would you feel compelled to tell them lies?” Kurt said as he stepped to the side of the lectern and raised his hand to his chin.

Blackburn turned to face the judge. The judge in turn nodded his head. Blackburn then turned toward Kurt, who was now studying the jury.

“To preserve the investigation, we are taught to give either limited information, or false information. It provides protection to the bureau and to the agent,” Blackburn responded.

“You’re taught to
lie
during your investigations?” Kurt asked.

Blackburn glanced toward the judge. The judge nodded his head.

“Yes,” Blackburn grunted.

“So, through the course of your work, you may tell a lie, but it’s not necessarily a lie in a conventional sense, because you’re
working
, correct?” Kurt asked.

“Objection, your honor, asked and answered,” the prosecutor hollered.

“I’ll allow it,” the judge said.

Kurt turned toward the jury and spoke as he continued to stare at the jury.

“I’ll ask the question again. Through the course of your work, you may tell a lie, but it’s not necessarily a lie in a conventional sense, because you’re
working
, correct?” he asked without turning away from the jury.

“Correct, we’re often required to lie, as you say, to preserve the investigation,” Blackburn responded.

“Are you being paid for your testimony today, agent Blackburn?” Kurt asked.

Blackburn sat stone faced and didn’t answer.

“You must not have heard me,” Kurt said as he turned from facing the jury to facing Blackburn.

“You testified that you told lies through the course of your work to preserve the investigation. My question was this: Are you being paid for your testimony today? Are you
working
?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, I am,” Blackburn grunted.

“No further questions,” Kurt said as he turned away.

“Boom!” Avery whispered as she slapped my knee.

After two short closing arguments, and the judge providing the jury with an instruction booklet, the jury was released to their deliberation room. After they were carefully tucked away, we were dismissed. As we filtered into the hall amidst the ATF agents and US Marshals, Axton stepped to my side.

“Pretty good trial, that attorney’s on the fucking ball,” Axton said.

“God damned right he is,” Avery snapped back.

“So what now?” Sydney asked.

I reached over and patted Sydney on the shoulder. She looked exhausted, and I suspected she probably didn’t sleep at all the previous night. Toad also looked as if he hadn’t slept for a few days, and appeared to be on an entirely different planet.

“The jury deliberates. They read the instructions, and they decide guilt or innocence. The court will call Kurt when a decision is made, and he’ll call us. It’s 3:30 now, so he’ll probably dismiss the jury at 4:45. There’s really nothing that will happen tonight. Sometimes it takes six or eight hours, and other times it takes two or three days. You never know,” Avery explained as she walked around me and toward Sydney.

“I just. I want this to be over. I feel so sorry for him. I hate for him to get his hopes up and then, you know…” Sydney shrugged.

I watched as Sinners got on the elevator eight or ten at a time, and went down to what I assumed was the ground floor. Several others took the stairs, talking quietly as they did so. I turned to Axton and shrugged my shoulders.

“Slice, I feel like
I’ve
been on trial; that was fucking exhausting. What’s the plan, boss?” I asked.

“Hell, I had no idea when we’d get out of here, looks like we’ve got the afternoon to ourselves. Hell, the suns shining and it’s a beautiful fucking day. What do you say we gather up the fellas and go terrorize a bar?” he said.

“We go rolling in sixty deep, everyone wearing their cuts, and they’ll think we’re gonna shoot the place to pieces,” I laughed.

“Let ‘em think what they want,” Axton shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” I nodded.