Gone Bad by J. B. Turner Page A

more, Ed.”
    “Here’s the thing. The Aryan Brotherhood have not just got some of the nastiest bastards behind bars, highly violent individuals who account for twenty-five percent of all the murders in American penitentiaries, despite only amounting to three percent of the prison population. What’s also disturbing about them is the level of sophistication.”
    Reznick said, “Ed, tell Assistant Director Meyerstein what you just told me.”
    “The language they’ve used in this letter, found at one of their houses, is classic AB. But it’s couched in code. Let me read direct from it.” Forlain turned and looked at his screen. I am a father at last. It’s a boy. My wife gave birth to a strapping eight pound seven ounce baby boy .
    Reznick said, “Seems pretty innocuous on the surface.”
    Forlain smiled. “That’s the whole point, Jon. Firstly, let’s break it down. It’s a boy is their way of saying they have official authorization to launch a war. If they didn’t have that authorization, the message would be It’s a girl .”
    Reznick said, “This was sent from California. This is from the AB leadership in California?”
    “Almost certainly. Here’s a very, very interesting aspect. I’ve only had half an hour to look at this, but I think we’ve got something. The reference to the weight of the baby is very important.”
    “How?”
    “There are three separate quantities.”
    “So what are they?”
    “The word ‘a’ before boy refers to the number 1. Then ‘8’ and ‘7’. Separately they mean nothing. But use some lateral thinking, a knowledge of the law, and you can conceal the real message. It’s referring to California Penal Code 187, and the crime of murder.”
    Reznick said, “So this is, in your opinion, one hundred percent, the authorization from the Aryan Brotherhood to go ahead with a murder?”
    “No question.”
    Meyerstein said nothing for a few moments.
    Reznick said, “Okay, we now have concrete proof of this guy’s involvement, the authorization from the AB. The question that still needs to be answered is, what’s the target and where’s the destination?”
    Meyerstein finished the rest of her coffee and stared at the screen. “There’s obviously a common thread that has brought the AB and this militia together. Ideology? Is there a target they can both agree on?”
    Reznick said, “Ed, you know about gangs, especially this one. What are their trigger points?”
    “Blacks. Authority. Government.”
    “And the militia, their major problem is what?”
    Meyerstein said, “The government. Big business. Remember McVeigh took out the FBI in Oklahoma. The Federal Building. Could we be talking about the same thing?”
    Reznick said, “What’s the latest analysis showing?”
    Meyerstein said, “I’m hooking up with a joint terrorism taskforce in DC who are analyzing this. Hopefully someone can give me an answer, or we have a developing problem on our hands.”

FOURTEEN
    Kathleen Burke dragged hard on a cigarette in the living room of the FBI safe house, daytime TV on with the sound off. She turned and looked across at one of the special agents guarding her. “I don’t like it here.”
    Agent Limez said, “Why not? No one knows you’re here. You’ve got everything you need.”
    Burke shook her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t like it. Feels like I’m going out of my mind.”
    Limez said, “Have you had your methadone, Kathleen? Maybe that would help.”
    “I’ve had my fucking methadone, thank you. And I still feel like I’m crawling the walls. I can’t bear it. Feel like I’m trapped.” She dragged heavily on her cigarette again. “The curtains and blinds are all drawn. I want to be outside in the sun.”
    Limez said, “Kathleen, we’ve got to be focussed here. We can’t have you out and about at this time.”
    Burke leaned over and crushed out the cigarette in a glass ashtray. “So when can I get out? I can’t stay here forever, can I?”
    Limez