Avenging Rose Ann

By Don Scribner

Avenging Rose Ann is the final chapter in the life of Holly Montgomery, an avenging angel fighting the wrongful events in the legal system. Avenging Rose Ann takes Holly and her family on a global adventure to rescue her daughter, Rose Ann, from a career/crime of an Armenian family.

From the first introduction of Holly Montgomery in Jury of One to the story Execution by Proxy and intense third adventure Holly with its many twists and turns, Avenging Rose Ann completes Dons work with this modern-day heroine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543464160

Don Scribner

DON SCRIBNER IS THE AUTHOR OF A SERIES OF POEMS, CHILDRENS BOOKS AND THE FOUR BOOK SERIES ABOUT HOLLY MONTGOMERY AND HER FIGHT AGAINST CRIME. DON HAS INCORPORATED BOTH ACTUAL AND FICTIONAL CRIME ACCOUNTS AND INTERACTIONS WITH BOTH POLICE AND FORENSIC PERSONELL AS WELL AS THE MEDICAL FIELD IN THE WRITING OF HIS WORKS. THE PROCESS AND SEQUENCE OF EVENTS USED IN HIS WRITING KEEPS THE READER ANXIOUS TO TURN EACH AND EVERY PAGE.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Rose Ann Montgomery was busy keeping an appointment with her seamstress, excited to be making final alterations to her wedding gown while her mother, now Holly Morrow, was awaiting Rose Ann’s arrival at their favorite bistro for lunch. This smallish sidewalk café, located in a posh area of La Jolla, was always the family’s first choice for a special occasion meal and this occasion certainly qualified. Holly and Will Morrow had relocated to La Jolla some years earlier. Will put in for and was granted a transfer to the San Diego field office of the FBI to finish his career there while Holly opted to try her hand as a stay at home wife and mother. A position Will thought totally beneath her but accepted it as her life choice.

Holly was sure she and Rose Ann had agreed to meet at the cafe at one pm. She could not remember Rose Ann ever missing an appointment or being late to a predetermined timed event and she was starting to worry. It was now ten minutes past two. She called Rose Ann’s cell phone time and again but it went directly to her voice mail box. Rose Ann never showed and Holly was now officially beginning to panic.

Rose Ann had been working sixteen hours a day, six days a week preparing documents for her supervisor, Charles Donlevy, to present to the grand jury. Donlevy was both Rose Ann’s boss and her mentor and made sure she stayed directly involved in every aspect of his current endeavor. That endeavor was positioning the state to put the worst of the worst local crime-family boss in prison for the rest of his life, as well as his clutch of bad guys. Donlevy estimated the number of names on the RICO warrant would exceed seventy-persons and seize a cache of illegally gained cash totaling nearly a billion dollars.

It was common knowledge that three of the most dangerous organized crime-families, all three from the Armenian Power group, were Donlevy’s priority and he was known to push, shove, rant and or rave to get his way while collecting evidence. No matter who was harmed in his efforts to bring each family to justice, he kept progressing to an end- game making more and more enemies along the way, powerful enemies.

Harlan Logan was the justice department’s flavor of the month. His family of Armenian gangsters had operated with impunity for years in southern California and Donlevy and company saw it as their personal affront that he had escaped paying for his crimes and it was now time to pay the piper, no matter the means.

Logan, and his hierarchy of crime underbosses, led the league in murder for hire, supply and distribution connections with known Columbian drug cartels, extortion and human trafficking. Closing down this empire would be a monumental task even with the backing of almost every law enforcement agency at Donlevy’s disposal.

Donlevy was well aware that including Rose Ann in this case would also place her directly in harm’s way, but also knew she would be protected by his office. Or would she?

As far as the FBI and Justice Department could surmise, Logan had connections as far away as South Africa, Eastern Europe, Central and South America and Canada. Reeling in Logan would require Donlevy to cast a large net and in doing so risk his and his team’s safety. That was fine with him as he concluded they knew the dangers in the job when they hired on. Whatever it takes was his mantra and he always lived true to that statement.

CHAPTER ONE

Setting Things in Motion

The San Diego grand jury was adjourning for their week-end break and the flow of civilians from the courthouse looked like traffic merging onto the busy Interstate 5 freeway. However, the person positioned on a building rooftop a quarter mile away, and holding his sniper rifle with a military issued scope, had already located his target and had him in his crosshairs. Charles F. Donlevy, the state’s assistant Attorney General and lead prosecutor in the state’s case against Harlan Logan, was stopped on the steps of the Federal Building to answer questions from the local press and television news networks, the ideal position for the sniper’s projectile path. He would only need one shot.

Donlevy had amassed a mountain of evidence against Logan and his criminal organization and was presenting it to the grand jury in an attempt to obtain a RICO warrant for the arrest of Mr. Logan, as well as several members of his crime-family. The RICO act, (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization act), was enacted so prosecutors could convict the leaders of crime organizations along with their lower tier members. Prior to the enactment of the RICO act law enforcement could only arrest and convict those who actually performed the crimes and not those responsible for ordering them. Logan and his associates had just one chance of dodging this RICO bullet; do away with the prosecution’s case and do so by any and all means necessary, whatever that meant.

The undeniable sound of the gunshot was not heard for a full second before it struck Donlevy’s temple. Pieces of Donlevy’s skull, brain matter and blood splattered the news crews like the spray of water from a hose nozzle. No one comprehended what had just happened or moved for a second or two until the act finally unfolded in front of them and then it registered. Those with enough bravery leaped to Donlevy’s aid, but knew it was an act in futility. Half of Donlevy’s head was missing and the other half was barely held together by threads of hair and scalp. The rest of the news crews scattered in all directions, but kept their cameras rolling. This would be their lead story for the nightly news broadcast, minus the graphic footage, of course. It would also be aired nationally which would bring all federal agencies into the case. The Feds don’t take kindly to this type of message.

By the time the call came in to the San Diego police department, FBI and Justice Departments the sniper had already disassembled his rifle, stored it in its custom made carrying case and left the area. By that night he was in Acapulco, Mexico enjoying margaritas and senoritas, and two hundred thousand dollars richer. The sniper was found dead three-days later in his room from a slice wound that nearly decapitated him. No loose-ends could be left with this operation. There would be many other loose-ends to tie-up before it was over.

*     *     *     *

Harlan Logan, surrounded by his entourage and attorney, sat in the enormous den of Logan’s hillside mansion watching the story unfold as news anchors related the slaying of assistant Attorney General Donlevy. Logan’s icy stare moved from the television to his attorney and then asked: Did our friend in Mexico receive proper payment?

Yes sir, his attorney replied. Walter Dover represented Harlan Logan and his family in all matters whether they were legal matters or those otherwise matters that only he knew about. It all paid the same to Dover and it paid well. His million dollar a year retainer, plus expenses, allowed him the freedom to serve only one master. Harlan Logan.

What do you want done with the two that visited our friend in Mexico? Dover asked.

After a short deliberation, Logan replied: Disappear them. I don’t want them showing up at some future trial with a chit to play for a get out of jail free card.

Understood, Dover replied and started to leave the room to take care of business before Logan stopped him.

What about our other friends from Donlevy’s office? Logan asked.

Rose Ann Montgomery and Jeffery Jordon are on their way to Europe and the others are taken care of. There will be no trace of them found.

Are you absolutely sure of all this, Walter? Logan asked with pure evil in his eyes.

I am, sir, absolutely.

Okay, thanks Walter. You can take care of the other business then.

*     *     *     *

Harlan Logan, born Milan Darbun to Armenian parents, was raised on the mean streets of New York City. His family immigrated to America just before World War II broke out in Europe escaping with barley more than the clothes they were wearing. During his younger years Logan’s father and grandfather would share many stories of their Armenian relatives and the plight they had endured.

Logan’s Armenian ancestry haunted him as he read about and heard more and more of the allegations of the genocide performed on his relatives during World War I. It was written, but not totally substantiated, that an estimated 1.5 million Armenians were either killed or led into the desert to starve to death by Turkey, then the Ottoman-Empire, and still today no one would recognize it for what it was. Logan was convinced the United States, and others, failed to recognize the act of genocide because they were and still are allies with Turkey.

Armenia is one of the world’s oldest civilizations and once included Mount Ararat, the biblical traditional landing location of Noah’s Ark. It was also the first country to officially embrace Christianity as its religion. Over the centuries Armenia was conquered by the Greeks, Romans, Persians, Byzantines, Mongols and others.

Harlan Logan could not get enough Armenian history and with each chapter he was more and more consumed by the fire of rage and revenge that grew inside him. Convincing himself that because those guilty of these past transgressions were shielded from prosecution it would be up to him, and those with like-minded thinking, to inflict past due judgement the guilty parties deserved. His approach was to put together an organization that took steps to sit as judge, jury and executioner of those he thought deserving by inflicting maximum pain along the way. His hatred for America, and its allies, was surpassed only by his will to do whatever it took to ease the pain of his past no matter what the laws of the country called for or disallowed. He was a maker of his own laws.

Logan began his association with other members of the local Armenian gangs at a relatively young age and steadily moved up the power-ladder of the Armenian Power movement. Armenian Power, AP, was born in the 1970’s and strengthened in the 80’s and progressed to what it is today. AP wasn’t the volatile ruthless Mafia style organization then as it is today. In fact, its origin was more for protecting Armenian high school students, many of them new to this country, from very aggressive gangs. Armenian students were particularly targeted in the North Hollywood and Hollywood areas where large communities of Armenians settled what is now referred to as Little Armenia.

Logan, now considered the leader of the AP movement and its final word in any negotiations, ruled his organization with an iron fist. He considered the entire world responsible for the genocide of his Armenian relatives, the entire world with the exception of France. He mandated a hands-off approach when it came to drugs, human trafficking or any other of his dealings where France was involved. When asked about his favoring France his response was simple. France’s senate had passed the Armenian Genocide Law which made it a criminal offense to deny the pogrom committed by the Ottoman Turks in WW1. Therefore, France was considered by Logan as his one ally in the fight for justice for his people.

Unemployment and poverty in his nation was also of prime concern for Logan and it was only aggravated by the trade blockage imposed by Turkey and Azerbaijan. This was one of the main reasons more and more Armenians immigrated to America looking for a better life and Logan was there with an open helping hand for them. This is the pool of Armenians from which he recruited the majority of his organization and they were honored to join. At any one time Logan employed over two hundred people and their skills ranged from bakers to assassins and from to drug dealers to prostitutes. Each and every employee of Logan’s empire was so grateful no one ever turned down an assignment. And now it was time for the most important assignment of his life.

CHAPTER TWO

Procedures and Protocol

On her way home from the café Holly called Rose Ann’s apartment and left her a message to call her mother at once. She then placed a call to Rose Ann’s fiancé, Robert English and left the same message. Robert, fondly referred to as Bobby by his friends and family, and Rose Ann met in college, fell in love and were engaged one year later. The wedding, set for the upcoming September, was all the two families could think about. Holly and Will adored him and Marty thought of him as the brother he never had and was asked to be Bobby’s best man.

Although Bobby was two years older than Rose Ann she graduated from college two years before him before going on to law school and receiving her law degree later that same year just as he was graduating from college with a degree in business. Holly was always proud of Rose Ann’s accomplishments and never missed the opportunity to share her effusive pride with others. After graduation Bobby joined his father’s investment firm and excelled there and Rose Ann, after an aggressive recruitment by Donlevy, joined the Justice Department. Both families saw their children’s engagement as a match truly made in heaven.

*     *     *     *

Holly called Bobby’s parents and asked if they had heard from or seen either Bobby or Rose Ann. They had not. Panic had now permeated every cell of Holly’s body and she hated that feeling. She had felt it before. Her next call was to Will informing him of the situation.

What should we do, Will? Holly asked with words punctuated with sobs. She has never missed a lunch date with me, or at least called if she was running late.

Just come home, honey and we’ll get it all straightened out. I’m sure she was tied up with something. Will didn’t know just how prophetic he had just been.

Once Holly got home and had a moment to settle herself she asked Will what the procedures were in cases like this. He explained that in normal circumstances missing person cases would not be opened until the person had been missing for at least a full day. However, because of Rose Ann’s position with the Justice Department and the assassination of her supervisor this would be an exception to that rule.

Will called the Attorney General’s office, police department and his contacts at the FBI and asked them to meet with Holly and him at their home. He did not explain anything over the telephone just in case. Once an FBI agent, always an FBI agent. He did everything with the assumption that something was wrong and that someone was listening.

All the invited agencies started showing up at Holly and Will’s house in less than an hour. The FBI arrived first and then the local police. The Attorney General, Kevin Stead, showed up an hour later as he was still dealing with the Donlevy incident. Holly stared daggers at him once he arrived. Knowing he had his hands full did not soothe her anger. She slammed her hand down hard on the dining room table, stood and addressed the group of law enforcement representatives.

Listen up everyone. Holly said louder than needed, my daughter is missing and possibly her fiancé too. You are all here because my husband thinks you are the best chance we have of getting them back. If it were up to me I would take care of this myself, but I will respect his decision and I’ll wait and see where this gets us. So, would someone please explain to me what the procedure is for their safe return?

Anthony Black, the FBI’s leading agent when it came to cases of kidnapping for ransom, stood to address Holly and the rest. Ms. Morrow, we are all so sorry about this and we know you are worried sick, but if you let us, we will do everything possible for the safe return of your daughter and Mr. English. Would it be alright if I ask a few questions?

Yes, of course. Holly replied.

Agent Black began the list of questions he had asked a hundred times before in a hundred other kidnapping cases.

Have you or the English family received any ransom notes or phone calls?

Oh my God, Will, Holly said out loud. I haven’t told Bobby’s parents or Marty about this yet. Would you contact them and ask them to join us here?

Will told the group he would contact Bobby’s parents and their son, Marty, but preferred not using his cell or house phone to do it just in case someone was listening. Agent Black gave Will his cell phone and told him it was a secure line. Will took the phone and made the calls. The English family arrived 30 minutes later frantically asking the same questions Holly had asked just minutes before.

Agent Black and his team took the next few hours to set up their communication center, computers, telephone taps and recording instruments for when the call came in and they were sure it would come sooner than later. It always did.

Angela English, Bobby’s mother, sat with Holly holding hands trying to comfort one another when Ms. English’s cell phone rang. The caller I.D. said Bobby.

Bobby, is this you?

Yes, mother, it’s me. What the hell is going on? I have twenty voice mails and text messages from you and Rose Ann’s mom.

Where have you been? Holly and I have been trying to reach you all day.

I’m sorry. I’ve been in a conference where no cell phones were allowed. But even if they were allowed there is no cell service here. What’s going on?

I don’t want to discuss it over the phone, son. Get to Rose Ann’s parent’s house and get here right now!

Robert knew his mother all too well to know when something bad was happening. The last time he heard her talk like this was when his grandfather died. Robert broke every driving law and possible set a land speed record for San Diego County getting to Holly’s home and got the queasiest feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw the number of vehicles parked outside their house. The police cars were easy to identify but the others were unmarked. Not a good sign. He sat for a minute to regain his composure before entering the house.

When Robert walked in the entire populace of the house went quiet. Again, not a good sign. Okay, what the fuck? Robert blurted out without caring who was present.

Holly stood up and walked to Robert, took his hand and asked him point blank; Bobby, when was the last time you saw or talked to Rose Ann?

Why? What’s wrong? Where the hell is she?

Just tell her, Bobby. His mother said.

I saw her night before last and talked to yesterday morning about six-thirty. Now tell me what is going on.

Will now took his turn with Robert. We think she may have been abducted by the people her office is building a case against. I’m sure you’ve heard about her boss, Mr. Donlevy, being killed this morning. We think that is part of a plan to get the accused persons free from an indictment.

Robert stood motionless and speechless with tears welling up in his eyes. I told her to be a fucking family attorney but no, she had to go for the high profile and high exposure cases and that fucking Donlevy lured her into it with him. She did all the work and he took the credit. I’m glad he got what he deserved. What about the others working the case with her? Have you to spoken to any of them? There must be six or seven associates helping her. She was primary and the others did the grunt work. No one person, except for Rose Ann, had more than their piece of the case. Donlevy and Rose Ann wanted to keep it compartmentalized. So what are we doing?

One of Agent Black’s assistants was already busy getting names and addresses of Rose Ann’s team members. Once the agent had the information she gave it to Black and awaited his instruction. They were simple. Get a car to each address and take the others into protective custody. The first FBI team arrived at the address of the first name on the list and entered the house. It took exactly one second to see what had happened. The scene looked like something out of a Freddie Kruger movie. There had been mayhem and murder here, but no sign of the victim. There was blood everywhere, even on the ceiling indicating a slashing of major arteries producing strong arterial sprays. The lead agent called Black. Boss, he started, not good. No sign of the person, but it’s a safe bet he is either buried somewhere or cut up for fish food. This place looks like a bomb inside a bucket of red paint exploded.

Agent Black received the same information from each team as they reported what they found, all except for Jeffery Jordan. His residence looked pristine, but Jordan was nowhere to be found. They checked with his parents and girlfriend but they had not seen him in days due to his work with the Logan case.

Agent Black got the entire group together to share what his team had found. Everyone gasped as he explained the situation. Holly just stared at him with rage starting to kindle inside her. Will took one look at her and knew she was close to a boil-over. It would do no good to try and console her now. That would have to wait for the right