How 'bout Both: Jim Scott Books, #21

By Mike Jackson

How 'bout Both is the third and final book in the Bader trilogy, and 21st Jim Scott book, though again Jim plays a very small part, while Hector Garcia gets involved a good deal more. In this book, Elmer and friends deal with a case involving domestic terrorism.  Elmer runs into several obstacles along the way, including many attempts on his life.  Old friend Hector Garcia lends a helping hand, as do FBI Special Agent Homer Spradling and NCIS Special Agent Greg Noonan, and others.  Both Elmer and his new partner Maine Bobbitt are injured in a terrorist car bomb explosion, while they save many lives through their efforts.  Identifying and capturing the car bomber becomes almost secondary to proving a case against the suspected head of several militant Islamist cells in the Los Angeles area.  

 

One of the banes of law enforcement in America is home-grown Islamist terrorism.  This is especially true when the home-growns are aided with funds and training from afar.  This book deals with a Muslim cleric intent on causing as much damage and fear as possible with various acts of terrorism, who takes a personal dislike to Elmer Bader and his TV news reporter friend, Helen Bledsoe. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Jackson
• Release date: Jan 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215309896

Mike Jackson

After serving in the Navy, Mike Jackson went into construction for a couple of years, then into banking for a few more. His next endeavor was in sales, where he spent most of the remainder of his life…until he started writing. On finding out that the most enjoyable thing of his life was writing, he's kept at it for several years and is still plodding along. Mike is married with two adult children and two grandkids. Mike and his wife have one dog at the present time, but he is a pip…and runs the house.

Book preview

How ‘bout  Both

A Novel

By

Mike Jackson

1.

The car pulled to a stop, the driver looked over at the left-hand turn lane coming from the opposite direction.  He saw a police car second in line and smiled.  The intersection had two lanes in each direction—east and west, as well as north and south.  There were left-turn lanes in all directions.  The driver who had smiled slowed down, because the ‘Walk’ pedestrian sign was on, with pedestrians in the crosswalk.  After seeing the police car, he barged ahead, making a right turn.  He nearly hit a man coming from the far side.  He did slightly bump a woman carrying a small child.  She almost fell, but caught herself as she held her child tightly.

The uniformed police officer driving the patrol car growled to his partner, Damned guy must be nuts, as he put on his strobe lights and siren.  He had to back up a few feet to get around the car in front of him, then swung around the car, as an oncoming car stopped to give him room.

After he made the turn, the driver of the offending car stopped about thirty feet down the street.  When the police car pulled up behind him, the officer driving got out, while his partner started running the license plate of the offending car.  While he was getting out, the driver of the offending car got out, also.  He had an AK-47 in his hands.  He fired at and hit the police officer getting out of his patrol car in the head with two shots, killing him instantly.  Then he swung his weapon to the other officer, who was getting out of the patrol car, drawing his weapon as he did.  The gunman shot him in the head, too.  The second policeman fell dead next to the patrol car just as his partner had. 

The gunman then calmly got back in his car and drove off.  By the time he got back in his car, a nearby witness was already calling 911 on his cell phone from the sidewalk, where he had laid flat when the shooting started.  As he made his call, a woman, lying on the sidewalk near him, was busy writing down the license plate number of the fleeing car.  When the car of the killer sped off, she stood as she asked the man on the cell phone, as he too stood, I’ve got his plate number—can you tell me what kind of car he was driving?  I want to have it ready for the police when they arrive.

He nodded, and gave her the information, which was heard by the 911 woman taking his call.  The 911 operator had already told the man to hold while she sent out the alert that police officers had been shot.  She quickly added the car information to the alert.  The man took the pad gently from the woman next to him to add more information being passed along.  The 911 operator added it to the alert. 

By then the woman who had written down the license plate number looked around her in disgust, as several of the people who had been present during the murders—many waving their hands and/or screaming—were hurrying off, to avoid becoming involved.  She yelled at the top of her lungs, Yeah, all you damned liberals, run and hide.  Don’t stay to offer any help to the police.  All good conservatives gather around.  We’ll wait for the police to arrive, so we can be of some assistance.

The man with the cell phone laughed, handed back her the note pad and muttered, I’ll be right back, then informed the 911 operator he was heading to the fallen officers to see if he could be of any assistance to them.  After he made a follow-up report that both were dead, he headed back to the lady with the note pad.

As he got there, another man approached the same lady.  I’m a liberal—may I stand with you to wait for the police?

She wrinkled up her nose.  Yeah—but stand off a few feet.  You and your kind are responsible for this with all your damned silly ideas.

Now the man on the cell phone laughed loudly before he introduced himself.  "I’m Rush Bretnall—actually David R. Bretnall—but my friends call me Rush...not because of that Rush, since I’m a conservative, but because when I was a little fella my parents say I always rushed around.  The childhood nickname stuck."

The rather nice-looking woman, who stood nearly six inches short of Rush’s six feet, nodded, Nice to meet you, Rush.  She held out her hand, then added, I’m Bonnie Rockhead. 

While he shook Bonnie’s hand, Rush smiled a bit at the mention of her last name.  Bonnie grinned, Part Indian...Cherokee.  I’m one-sixteenth Cherokee.  Obviously from my father’s side of the family.

Since the name comes from your father’s side of the family, am I to assume you are single?

The dishwater blonde with lovely blue eyes grinned, and held up her left hand, which had no sign of a ring.  Yup. You?

Rush smiled as he held up his left hand, too...also without a ring.  Me, too.  Would I be terribly forward, if I asked you out for a drink or something...after we are finished with the police?

Yes, you would—but I accept.

Feeling a bit guilty, Bonnie looked at the liberal.  Look, I’m sorry I gave you grief, but I’m mad as hell right now.

***

Even before that conversation really got underway, the head of LAPD Homicide, Captain Reggie Wilcox, charged out of his office.  Elmer, Maine, Bert, Alan, on me.  We’ve got two uniforms down...shot.  Three cars.

Homicide Detective Lieutenant Elmer Bader jumped up from his chair, grabbed his suit coat, and followed Reggie out of the office, with his partner, Homicide Detective Maine Bobbitt, right behind him.  Those three were followed closely by Homicide Detective Sergeant Alan Evans and his partner Homicide Detective Bert Smitty.  As they were racing to their cars, Reggie yelled over his shoulder where the shooting had taken place.

Soon Reggie was driving off in his car, with Elmer’s car right behind.  Maine was driving, as had become their custom, since she had become his partner almost a year earlier.  Behind them came Alan, driving his car, with Bert riding alongside.  All three unmarked cars had their dashboard red lights on, and all had their sirens on as well.  As she drove, Maine mentioned, It’s only about six blocks from here, Elmer.

Yeah, I know—drive.

Maine grinned as she did so, until they reached the scene.  By the time they got there, uniformed LAPD Sergeant Raymond Clayton already had two patrol units close off the block of the shooting from both ends.  He had also—after stopping to make sure both officers were actually dead—hurried to the group of citizens standing on the sidewalk.  The group included both Bonnie and Rush, standing and waiting patiently to give their versions of what they had seen. 

When Reggie, Maine, and Alan drove to the intersection, they were waved onto the closed-off street.  As the five occupants of the three unmarked cars got out, they spotted Raymond, who waved them toward him.  He took a few steps in their direction, to give a fast head nod to the five he knew well.  The lady in this group and the guy next to her gave me the details on the car.  Both saw everything you can probably use.

Reggie nodded, Elmer, Maine—go.

Without a word, Elmer and Maine headed to the group of citizens.  They quickly introduced themselves, before Bonnie gave him the piece of paper with the license number, and a description of the car.  When Elmer asked what she had seen, she gave a very calm and detailed account of her observations.  As they spoke, several news organizations arrived, including a close friend of Elmer’s—Helen Bledsoe, with a television sound truck from her station affiliated with the fair and balanced news network.  All of those type of people were kept at a distance outside the blocked off intersection.  She saw Elmer, but decided to wait until he seemed to be finished with what he was doing. 

The thing catching Elmer’s attention the most from Bonnie’s observations was she had seen the killer stop, look directly at the police car of the two pursuing officers, smile, then make his move around the corner, nearly running down the woman with her child.  Just as Elmer was about to question Rush—after thanking Bonnie for her cooperation and thorough description of the events leading to and beyond the death of the officers—the communication device Elmer had broadcast that the car in question had been found less than four blocks from the scene of the murders.  Also, two witnesses had told the officers on the scene that a man had pulled in behind a motorbike, gotten out of his car, walked calmly to the motorbike, and drove off.  There was no evidence of him being armed when he did so. 

Elmer thought a second, then suddenly he got on the communication device.  "Stay away from that car!  This is Lieutenant Bader.  I repeat—do not approach the car.  Block off both ends of the block where the car is.  Start getting people out of the area.  I’m on my way."

Maine gave Elmer a funny look, before it dawned on her what he must be thinking.  Even as he turned, Alan and Bert had come over to stand nearby, waiting for orders from Elmer, having been sent there by Reggie.  Elmer nodded.  Alan, Bert—take the rest of the statements here.  Get everyone’s name, et cetera.  Come on, Maine.

As he turned, he all but ran to his car.  He also yelled at Reggie, We’re gonna go check out the killer’s car.  Get me another couple of patrol cars in the area.

Reggie nodded, thought a second, then realized Elmer must have some information causing him to be so concerned about the car.  He immediately ordered four more patrol cars to the area where the killer’s car had been found.  He did so having no idea what the information could be, but trusted Elmer and his instincts enough to know Elmer must surely have cause for concern. 

Maine got in the driver’s side of the car without being told to do so.  She had the engine running as Elmer got in the other side.  She gunned the car away at a high rate of speed.  Seeing this, Helen ran to her sound truck.  She told the driver to go to the first block, then make a left.  She knew Elmer well enough to know if he was moving fast as he went to his car, he had a good reason.  She had an idea another part of the story was about to unfold.

Luck was with Helen, as Maine made a right at the first intersection, a left at the next one.  The driver of the sound truck saw Elmer’s unmarked car, with inside light flashing, two blocks ahead by the time he made the ordered left turn.  He thought to himself how part of being a great newsperson—as Helen was—was luck.

When Maine got to the now-sealed-off block, she pulled in alongside the patrol unit blocking the intersection on their end of the block, and hurried out of the car.  Elmer was already running toward the killer’s abandoned car.  She started to follow.  Elmer raised his hand.  Stay back there, Maine.  No sense for both of us to get blown up.

Maine ignored him, following right along.  When Elmer reached the driver’s side front window, he saw Maine on the other side of the car and shook his head, but said nothing.  He realized had their roles been reversed, he would probably have done the same thing.  As he looked into the car, he immediately saw what had to be a detonating device of some kind.

When the killer had parked the car, he had set the device up to explode in a matter of about ten minutes, giving him time to be well clear of the car before it exploded.  The device was acid driven, and was slowly dripping acid on a plate covering the triggering mechanism.  There were also two fine strands of fishing line leading from the device to each of the doors of the two-door automobile.  Elmer made a fast decision as he turned toward one of the uniformed offices.  Get someone to clear out the buildings, starting at each corner and working toward the middle.  My partner and I will work the middle first.  Get everyone to head out back doors, if available.  There’s probably a bomb in this car—oh, and call the bomb squad, please.

He looked at Maine.  Get the middle four or so buildings across the street empty, out the back with everyone.  I’ll work this side of the street.

Maine just nodded, as she took off on a run across the street to do as told.  Elmer went down the street to the first of the four places of business on his side of the street.  The first of his stops was an ACLU facility.  He ran inside.  Everyone out—we may have a bomb in a car outside.  If you have a back door, use it.

Several attorneys and other employees looked up at Elmer.  One of the attorneys shook his head.  I’ll go when I finish what I’m doing...maybe.

Elmer tilted his head as he grumbled, Your funeral, before he turned to head for the next business. 

By then Helen, and her sound truck had arrived.  She had one of her cameramen keeping the camera on Elmer, with an occasional swing toward Maine’s side of the street.  When she saw Elmer hurry out of the ACLU office, then head for the next store front—a high end coffee and bagel shop—she saw no one coming out of the ACLU operation.  She turned to her cameraman.  Grab one of the portable units—go see if anyone is coming out the back of those buildings. 

She looked at her driver.  You grab one—go cover the back of the buildings on the others side of the street.  I’ll handle the camera here.

By then Elmer had already shouted to everyone in the bagel shop to get out the back door, after finding out they had one.  He explained about the potential bomb.  As he turned to leave, two men come out behind him.  He looked at then for just a second as one pointed, My car.

The other nodded, Mine, too.

Elmer sighed.  Your cars may cost you your lives.  Good luck.  Forgetting those two, he hurried to his next stop, which was a medical facility.  It was crowded with mostly women and small children.  One look told him there were nearly forty people in the waiting area alone.  He looked at the receptionist.  You got a back door?

On being told yes, he told everyone to head for that exit, because of the potential bomb in the car outside.  A mad scramble for the rear of the building ensued.  After Elmer turned to leave for the last of his stops, he noticed there was a three-story hotel on the far side of the street.  As he headed for this next stop, a uniformed officer ran up.  I’m done to this far.

Elmer nodded, Head across the street.  Help my partner with that hotel.  Be sure to keep everyone out of elevators, and out the back door.  Know they’ll have one.

Yes, sir.

Elmer went into the last building on his side of the street, which was a real estate office with over twenty agents inside.  If you’ve got a back door, head for it.  There may be a bomb outside the front.

Even as he spoke, a bomb squad robot was peering inside the car.  It was relaying a video feed to the control center of the bomb squad truck, which had arrived as Elmer was going into another business.  One of the bomb squad members saw the triggering device on the video feed.  He also saw the acid was starting to smolder.  He got on his bullhorn, Everybody, get gone or down—this damned thing is about to go up.

Elmer, knowing it was too late to go help Maine, headed for the rear of the real estate office, while across the street, Maine had been in the hotel for a while.  She had the officer Elmer had sent her on the second floor, getting people out, starting at the front of the building, then heading for the rear stairs and rear exit.  Another uniformed officer, who had met her from coming up her side of the street, had already been sent to the third floor, to do the same thing as Maine—getting people on the first floor out of the building.  As she was about halfway down the hall, the explosion came.

The car was a true car bomb, since it was loaded with explosives.  The shockwave alone blew out the front windows of the hotel and sent Maine flying down the hall, where she collided with the door handle of a room she hadn’t reached yet.  It broke her arm.  She was also cut by several pieces of flying glass.

When the explosion took place, Elmer was halfway to the rear of the real estate office.  He was slammed into a side wall with such force it knocked him out.  He too had several cuts from flying glass.  Worse, parts of the ceiling and roof of the building came crashing down on him. 

Outside, Helen was giving a running description of the events as they unfolded, having found out people were streaming from the rear of all the buildings on the block.  Her camera had been steadied on the car, so the explosion was caught live.  All shots were being broadcast on her station.  The force of the blast knocked her down, but she was otherwise unharmed.  As she struggled back to her feet, she didn’t know or care if her camera was still operational, just pointed it in the direction of the real estate office.  All she could think of was her pal Elmer in the real estate office.  A uniformed officer telling her to stay back was totally ignored.  She raced toward the office with the uniformed officer right behind her.

She wasn’t the only one concerned about Elmer.  His wife Ruth had turned on her television set to catch the weather, before deciding if she would take her daughter out to the nearby park or not.  She had been watching the unfolding event while listening to Helen, who had been broadcasting that Lieutenant Elmer Bader was in charge of the situation.

Ruth had seen Elmer go into the real estate office, and now could see the building was a shambles.  She also saw Helen and the uniformed officer running toward what was left of the real estate office.  She knew Helen was totally in love with her husband.  Just for a second she was almost jealous of her for being there while she, Ruth, was watching from her home.  Almost as soon as she had that thought, she dismissed it, as she watched intently when Helen and the uniformed officer started plowing through the wreckage.

2.

Back at the original scene, where the two officers had been killed, everyone there heard the explosion.  Reggie yelled to Alan, You’re in charge here, until any of the brass shows up.  I’m heading over to where Elmer went.

Even as Reggie was pulling out in his car, other unmarked cars were pulling up to the site.  Some of them were senior officers.  After a fast conversation with Alan, most left for the blast site.  The one senior officer who remained behind told Alan to carry on with what he’d been doing, while he, the senior officer, would take over handling traffic and whatnot, to free Alan up to interview witnesses.

Alan did his best while worrying about his brother-in-law (they were married to sisters), while Helen and the uniformed officer had found Elmer’s foot.  Helen was sure it was Elmer.  While the officer was less sure, he helped her pull fallen material off him.  Other officers were flooding other blast zone sites, looking for any possible survivors.  They found a few from the medical facility because with only one small door to go through, several people hadn’t made it out.  They also found bodies of those who had been at the end of the long line of people trying to escape through the back door. 

By the time Helen and the uniformed officer had managed to free Elmer, several ambulances had arrived.  The uniformed officer ran to get an EMT team to come for Elmer.  As he was being loaded up, the uniformed officer went back in to look for anyone else he could find, while Helen staggered back to her sound truck.  There, one of the cameramen had been doing his best to describe to those tuned in what was going on.  When Helen reached him, he sighed.  Now here is our hero reporter, Helen Bledsoe.

Helen gave him a faint smile, then took over.  One of the courageous LAPD officers who have no doubt saved hundreds of lives here today, Lieutenant Bader, was buried in the rubble of a real estate office.  He has been pulled free, and is now on the way to a hospital.  Knowing Elmer Bader as I do, he’ll pull through...but the cowardly idiot who did this foul deed can rest assured he will not get away with it.  Lieutenant Bader will track you down.  I will be there to watch the needle go into your stinking arm.

Ruth, with her daughter Lizzie sitting next to her, asking more questions about her Daddy than Ruth could possibly answer, pumped her fist.  You tell ‘em, Helen.  Way to go.

***

Much later, at the hospital where he’d been taken, Elmer slowly came to.  He looked around his hospital room, immediately saw Ruth and Lizzie, and tried to smile.  He also saw the Chief of Police, Chief of Detectives Gordon Bergmann, Maine, and Helen in his room, too. 

Ruth bent over the bed to kiss him, then helped the not yet four-year-old Lizzie do so as well.  The Chief of Police puffed out his chest.  Lieutenant Bader, you are a credit to our profession.  By a preliminary count, your actions saved over four hundred people today.  Thank you.

Elmer nodded, and groaned, Any time, Chief.

After a few chuckles, Elmer looked at Gordon.  How many?

Gordon knew immediately what Elmer meant.  Twelve dead—four more who might not make it.  About another twenty injured in some fashion or another...not counting Maine there, with her arm in a sling, and Helen, who got cut up a bit digging you out.

Elmer closed his eyes, then opened them.  Thanks, Helen.  Guess I owe you.

Helen laughed, Yeah, but I can’t collect what I want in return, because you’re married to such a wonderful lady.  But I’ll think of something.

Elmer smiled, What happened to your arm, Maine?

Broke it.  Force of the blast tossed me around a bit.  I didn’t land too well.

Elmer looked at Gordon.  Reggie, Alan, and Bert working the case, I hope?

Gordon nodded, Yeah, figured you’d either die or not, so they were better off doing their jobs, than babysitting you here while you were unconscious.

Just then a doctor walked in.  It seems to me I said only two or three in here at once.  Lieutenant Bader needs his rest.

The Chief glanced at Gordon, and nodded toward him.  We’re just leaving.

Helen sighed, Yeah, me too, I guess.

Elmer joked, Yeah, me too.  But, when he tried to sit up, he groaned before adding, well, maybe I better re-think that a bit.

The doctor nodded, You’re not going anywhere, Lieutenant.  You’re here for observation for at least three days.  You took a good knock on your noggin.  I know that doesn’t sound doctor-like, but you get the message.  You almost surely have a concussion.  You are not leaving here until I’m sure you’re out of the woods.

Elmer grumbled, Never been in the woods in my life.  I’ll make you a deal, doc.  I’ll wait until morning, then I’m gone—with or without your blessing.

Ruth shook her head.  That’s my husband, the idiot, speaking.

Just as the doctor started to say something, Helen’s cell phone rang.  She saw it was her station calling.  She answered, Make it quick...I’m in Lieutenant Bader’s room at the hospital.  The doctor is trying to run us all out of here, as it is.

Helen listened for a few moments, then nodded, Get the information to Captain Wilcox at LAPD Homicide...pronto.

She listened a bit more.  Know just who to get for the job.  I’ll handle it—the station paying?

She listened a bit more, and smiled, Good.  Get it to Captain Wilcox.

Off the call, she looked around the room.  "Someone—probably the killer, from the message he left—called.  Told the operator at my station to tell me he had only begun.  Also said my ‘boyfriend’ was on his short list of cops he was going to kill.  Mentioned he might just kill me, too...after my comments