Is out again. Sigh…
Go read the folks on the sidebar, hopefully I’ll have Internet back tomorrow and will try to get a post up then.
Posted from my iPhone.
Anybody remember flame wars???
I found this while searching for another file… From the mid-90s…
THIS IS A FLAME
Dear
[ ] asshole [ ] fag [ ] ignorant snot [ ] prick [ ] nerd [ ] Elvis [ ] lonely masturbator [ ] computer geek [ ] retard [ ] sycophant [ ] David Sternlight
You are being flamed because
[ ] you continued a boring useless stupid thread
[ ] you repeatedly posted to the same thread that you just posted to
[ ] you repeatedly posted the same article
[ ] you posted a homework assignment
[ ] you posted a “test”
[ ] you used vi and left a whole bunch of editing garbage on the screen
[ ] you posted a request for an article which was posted three times in the past week
[ ] you claimed to have the original GGBJ
[ ] you posted some sort of religious crap that doesn’t belong in this group
[ ] you posted an article that was not funny, unoriginal and very boring
[ ] your mother dresses you funny
To recant, you must
[ ] actually post a humorous article
[ ] give up all your worldly possessions and become a Tibetan monk
[ ] go to the public library and try to do your own homework
[ ] hang yourself by the big toe for 72 hours
[ ] abstain from sex for a month (shouldn’t be too hard for you)
[ ] shave your head, paint a target on it, and go to Iraq
[ ] give your MP (Congressman in U.S.A., I guess) a donation of three hemp plants to decorate his office
[ ] become politically correct and demand that manholes be renamed to peroffspringopenings
[ ] cut your balls (or breasts, if you’re a woman) off
[ ] _________________________________________________
Thank you for the time you have taken to read this, and please desist from the offending behavior that led to this flame.
_____________________________________________________________________________
END FLAME
Rimworld- Into the Green continues to sell at a modest pace, and the overall reviews are good, but I’m putting a bleg out there…
As I’ve said before, and others echoed, an author needs at least 50 reviews for Amazon to start paying attention to the book and start giving it wider publicity.
Right now, I’m only at 22 reviews, so if you’ve read it, and have time, please put an HONEST review up. Thanks in advance!
And for those who’ve been wondering if McDougal will have a part in the second book in the series, here’s a tease for ya…
Missed Me
McDougal bitched to himself, Bad enough I get left behind on a colony world, but insult to injury has me on a det with the local militia. I’m getting behind on the booze making, can’t do it out here, light years away. And these guys don’t break shit, so I’m bored… As he stepped out of the hab, he habitually jumped down the three steps, and survived the needle gun shot that was supposed to take him in the chest. He was on the ground, crouching behind the barrier before his brain caught up with what had just happened, What the fuck? These turds just tried to kill my lily white ass! Sonics may stop them from physically getting in, but that don’t stop anything else from getting in…
McDougal scrambled around the corner of the hab, jumped through the door of the maintenance module, and leaned against the wall, absently brushing the dirt from the front of his shipsuit.
“Hey, anybody see who shot at me?” He asked over his wrist comp.
“What?”
“Somebody just tried to kill me, Rai! Didn’t you get that on surveillance?”
“You didn’t jump and fall?”
“Nooo, I think it was a needle gun.”
“Standby… Okay, yeah we missed that one. We were watching a disturbance down by the feeder. Might have been a decoy.”
Oh good, now they’re using decoys… I’m gonna fix that shit… Damn “So?”
“Yeah, we got video Senior. We’re putting it out, he’ll be on the arrest list in a few minutes.”
“So, what good does that do us?”
“Gonna put a warning out. You’re supposed to check surroundings before you open the hab or any other external door, you know that.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”
McDougal powered up his maintenance system, pulled up the latest armored system diagrams and started drilling down, I know these fuckers have a repulsor module. Where is it? And how big? Ah, there you are you… Damn, that thing isn’t little! Hmmm, specs…
He pulled up the sonic fence specs on another screen, started comparing ranges and dug deeper into the repulsor module, If I back that range requirement down to… Match the sonics placement. Overbuilt to hell and gone. If I reduce that by a factor of… Three? Four, no, five.
That reminded him that he was going to work on an embedded code for the wrist comp that would allow the militia and GalPat to pass through the sonic fence by setting the mid-point to zero dB at six feet on approach and run it back up when the wrist comp was six feet past. Lemme see, 3 miles and hour, that’s… 4.4 fps, I want 12 feet, so… three second off pulse, mid-point between any two legs. That’ll also take care of the requirement to go exactly between the two designated legs, controlled by security, which should reduce the threat to us. And even better, I won’t have to walk all the way around the damn module when I need to get to the RCA.
Pulling himself away from that, he got back on designing a repulsor module that was only twenty pounds and a little over a foot in diameter. In order to solve the angularity issues, he decided to mold in two feet that aligned to the flat plate angle, and orthogonal to the gravity plane, which meant it should effectively brace itself against the planet itself. In addition to the feet, he decided to color the mold a dark grey on the external face, and white on the internal face, Even a GalPat troop can’t screw this one up! Maybe I should have directions, maybe something like front toward enemy… Didn’t they do something like that back in ancient history?
He occupied himself with revising the programming for the sonics while he waited for the fabber to spit out the module he’d designed. Now, where can I test this? Sure as hell ain’t going out there to do it. Wait a minute, I’ve got a sim here…
McDougal set up the simulator to duplicate a section of sonic fence to specification in quarter scale. Inserting the programming into his wrist comp, he walked up to the beam, watched it cut off, and restart four seconds later. When he moved off center, to either side, he felt the tingle of the fence, which meant he’d gotten it right.
“Hey, Senior.”
The call interrupted McDougal and he growled as he came up from the maintenance documents, “What?”
“Senior, Master Chief Magar. Did you file an incident report on that attempt on you this morning?”
“Uh, no? Didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“Ah, that explains why I have this uncorrelated report from Chief Rai on my datacomp. I’m pushing the report form to you. Please get it back in thirty. I have to brief the Captain at sixteen on status.”
“Uh, I’m in the middle of…”
“In thirty, Senior.”
“Yes, Master Chief.” McDougal glanced at his deskcomp to see a flashing red icon in the middle of the screen, sighed, and reached for it, punching the icon as he did so.
Mumbling to himself, he wrote up what he remembered, tagged the security video camera and timeframe, re-read it twice, and submitted it. Thought security was supposed to take care of that shit…
***
“So, that’s all I’ve got Captain Fargo, one probe at Feeder Six around zero five, and the attempt on Senior Sergeant McDougal at Feeder Three at zero eight. Perp was identified, arrest warrant issued, and he was taken into custody at eleven.” A picture flashed up in the holo, “Fedorice, Maurice. Age is thirty-six. Identified as anti-tech member. Works as a baker in an organic bakery in Center City. He’s not talking.”
Fargo growled, “What is it with these fuckers and needle guns?” Shaking his head, he asked more civilly, “Any idea why he was all the way out in Dove City? Also, any change in the frequency of attempts, Master Chief?”
Master Chief Magar shrugged, “They’re about the same, across the board. This is only the second attempt on one of the troops, and both of those have occurred at Feeder Three. I think that’s because that site is the most spread out. Remember, we couldn’t nestle the hab and maintenance modules right at the Feeder because of the terrain. That’s why we put McDougal and the big module out there. It’s also the only one were the shuttle can actually land inside the perimeter.”
“Recommendations?”
“Double up security. Put an additional 360 system up there, put two more people on watch. I know that is gonna impact their quality, but we were planning on rotating teams around anyway, just to keep them fresh and alert.”
“Do we move the big module and McDougal?”
Master Chief grinned, “I wouldn’t. He’s out of everybody’s hair out there. And frankly, he’s pretty clueless when he goes to town. His situational awareness sucks. Besides if we move him, it’d have to be someplace else big enough to take the shuttle.”
Fargo leaned back and groaned, “You do have a point. Tip of the spear, he’s not. Okay, tomorrow we’ll do a few bounces with response teams. I want to make sure we do one at Feeder Three, fangs showing. Maybe that will slow them down a bit.”
The holo dinged three times, indicating an override, and a harried GalPat Lieutenant popped up, “Captain Fargo?”
“Go ahead.”
“Sir, that man arrested for the attempted murder at Feeder Three just suicided. Some kind of pill. We’ve notified the locals.”
Fargo slumped, “Suicided? Really? How did he manage… Oh, never mind. Duly noted, thank you.”
Fargo and the master chief exchanged looks, “This isn’t good. They’re escalating.”
Fargo nodded, “That’s what I was thinking. Put an alert out to everybody.”
***
McDougal popped the first module out of the fabber, checked the metals levels and added another fifty pounds of plasteel pellets, making a note to order spare metals and plasteel pellets. He idly wondered if he could snag some run time on the big fabber GalPat had in Center City, but decided to wait until he had two units to see if his idea actually worked.
He glanced up and was surprised to see it was seventeen already, and he got up slowly, stretched and set the prototype repulsor on the bench. Deciding he was done for the day, he quickly calculated the capacity of the fabber, added two more bars of metal, and programmed for two more modules, figuring it would take most of the night for them to run. He hit start, then checked the perimeter that he could see before opening the door, quickly closing it, and scampering into the hab module.
He headed to the autochef, fed in his order and turned to the little dining table, “Hey, Rai. Anything on that guy from this morning?”
Rai grimaced, “Dammit Mac, don’t you ever check your datacomp? They caught him, questioned him, and he suicided. It was on the alert broadcast an hour ago.”
“Oh. Uh, I… I was busy.”
“Well, thanks to you, we’re going to be doubling up. The captain is bringing another three-sixty head and monitoring station up here tomorrow. That means we’re going to have four on watch at a time. Which means we’re basically on port and report. You’re not qualified to stand watch are you?”
McDougal replied, “No, I’m only certified for maintenance. But I am duty maintenance for the entire det, not just you guys. And I’m the only maintainer out here.”
Rai grumbled but subsided, when McDougal pointed that out, “Okay, okay. We’re going to be rotated in a week anyway, so maybe we’ll rotate home before we have to come back up here.”
McDougal gave him a hands up gesture, “Sorry. It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
The autochef dinged, then spit out McDougal’s dinner. He grabbed it, flopped down at the other table, and ate as quickly as he could. He dumped the plate into the autochef’s return slot, and made for his coffin. Sliding in, he racked the deskcomp, checked the system alerts were all clear, and racked out.
***
McDougal made it to the maintenance module without getting shot at, which was, in his mind, a good thing. Two more units sat on the out tray of the fabber, and he sat them on the bench beside the original one. Running a check on the fabber, he grimaced, Dammit, out of metal. And I’m down to three barrels of plasteel. Maybe I can get some on the shuttle today, if I talk nice to supply… Flipping through the forms on his deskcomp, he found the supply request and plugged in enough metal bars and plasteel barrels to do at least six more units.
Once that was done, he rooted around in the parts bin, finally found the right cable and connected the mini-repulsor to the maintenance system. He gingerly applied power, and sighed with relief when the unit powered up without arcing or sparking.
Flipping back to the systems diagrams, he cobbled together a BIT test for the module, made sure it was facing away from him, and hit start. Thirty seconds later, it completed, and from all appearances met spec as he had modified it.
He duplicated the testing on the other two units, and only had to replace one molycirc that had a temp fluctuation issue that worried him. That one passed on retest, and he dug around for more cable. Finding one two hundred foot length, he called security on his wrist comp.
“Rai, Senior here. I need to run a quick test on a piece of hardware outside the module. Is the area clear where I can set up two units two hundred feet apart?”
“Standby.”
Mac drummed his fingers nervously, until finally Rai came back, “Yeah, quiet as a mouse out there today. Not even the usual protesters by the gate.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll be out for about fifteen.” He picked up one unit, connected it to the cable, and carried it out toward the end of the compound until he ran out of cable. Hustling back, he connected the second unit to the other end, made sure the cable was taut, and plugged a second cable into that unit. Running it back in the module, he plugged it into the maintenance station. He started to power up the minis, but stopped, went to the door and looked out, confirming the white side faced him. Satisfied, he powered the units up, ran the BIT again, then hit activate for thirty seconds. There was a little instability for about ten seconds, but everything looked like it smoothed out.
He stuck his head back out the door, and was surprised to find the unit closest to the door buried about three inches in the ground. Huh, wonder what… Oh wait, if it braces, it might try to balance the forces across all the modules. Trotting out to the other module, it was sitting on rock, but there was a little indentation, so maybe his idea was right.
He powered the modules back up, stepped out of the door, and picked up some gravel that was everywhere. Flipping it at the imaginary line between the two units, he was gratified to see it cross that line and fall to the ground. Stepping back inside, he fiddled with the programming, truncating the outside halves of the modules, and only running full power between the two. He walked back out, picked up some more gravel and flipped it, with the same result. Walking well around where he thought the edge of the field was, he got on the gray side, picked up more gravel and flipped it at the line. It seemed to stop in mid-air and bounce to the ground. Picking up a bigger rock, he threw it at the line, it did the same thing.
His wrist comp beeped, and he glanced down at it, SHUTTLE INBOUND. ETA 6 MIN. “Shit, gotta shut this down,” McDougal grumbled to himself. He ran quickly back to the module, checked that the power feeds were still good, and powered the system down to standby.
***
Fargo looked over the Feeder Three site, mentally cataloging the issues, as he walked toward the perimeter. He saw a cable running to a strange gray and white object partially buried with another cable running from it to what looked like another one some distance away. Turning, he followed the cable with his eyes, surprised to see it terminating at the maintenance module. What the hell? What is this… He walked over to the module, opened the door and found McDougal deep in a maintenance screen, “Mac?”
McDougal looked up, then popped to attention, “Sorry, sir. Didn’t hear you come in.”
“What’s the gray and white ball that’s half buried out there?”
“Um, er… Something I’m trying out, sir.”
Fargo made a come on motion with his hand, “And?”
“Well, we had an attack out here, and… Well, I, uh… I kinda built a little repulsor module test bed.”
“A what?”
McDougal got, “Lemme show you, sir.” He stuck his head out the door, confirmed there wasn’t anyone near the two units, and powered them back up to full power. He walked out, Fargo following, picked up some gravel, and said, “See, from this side, it’s non-functional, er… It doesn’t stop anything.” He flipped the gravel over the line, and it fell to the ground on the other side. Walking around the module, he picked up more gravel and threw it at the line, where it bounced and hit the ground, “This side, it stops things from coming in.”
Looking around, he found a bigger rock, maybe 10-15 pounds, and heaved it at the line. It bounced too, landing about 3 feet from the line. Fargo cocked his head, “You did this Mac?”
“Yes, sir. I, um… I downsized a repulsor module from the armor, and…”
McDougal went down the nearrat hole into schematics, leaving Fargo shaking his head, until he interrupted, “Mac, I think this has some potential…”
“You do, sir?”
At least for here, Mac. How many of these things would you need to cover the perimeter?”
“Uh, standby one…” Turning to his datacomp, he quickly ran a set of calculations, “Um… Twenty-one. I can piggy back sonics modules…”
Fargo held up his hand, “No, we’ve already got those in place. I’ll hit GalPat for, what nineteen more modules? Can you send the data to their fabber?”
McDougal nodded quickly, “Yes, sir. Got it right here.” He typed something into the datacomp and continued, “It’s on cue for their fabber now. Just waiting for command approval.”
My coffee fund is getting low, so buy books! That way I stay awake and write… 🙂
With the shooting of the Republicans at baseball practice yesterday morning, by an avowed Bernie liberal and possible campaign volunteer, depending on which media you read, the left was already spouting their crap about gun control before the blood was even dry… Had Steve Scalise not been there, with his Capitol Police detail, this could have been MUCH worse! Apparently the first response did not arrive for almost 10 minutes, by which time the detail had already taken the shooter out. And KUDOS to them!
Virginia Democratic Gov. Terry McAuliffe said Wednesday was not the day to talk about gun control, then proceeded to talk about gun control hours after the shooting of Louisiana Republican Rep. Steve Scalise in Alexandria, Va.
Full article, HERE.
And take your BP meds before you check this one… Especially look at the time lines of the posted twits…
It didn’t take long for liberal pundits to reignite the gun control debate after a gunman opened fire on Republican lawmakers and staff at baseball practice Wednesday morning, wounding Louisiana Rep. Steve Scalise and four others.
Prominent liberal pundits and journalists used the Twitter hashtag “Gun Control”to bash Republican opposition on gun control and to push for more gun regulations not long after news of the shooting broke.
Full article, HERE.
Also, it looks like the ‘actual’ weapon used was an SKS. Unknown at this time if it was converted for full auto.
Interestingly, the left/MSM has been crawfishing away from the shooter, claiming he was an ‘extremist’, without saying he was THEIR extremist…
But more interesting and BP warning, is THIS set of collected twits by the far left, wishing that all those shot would die…
Is this the first shot???
In other news, which was WAY down the news feed, it appears Mueller is already ‘expanding’ his investigation… And it was done ‘days’ after Comey was fired…
Special Counsel Robert Mueller is reportedly investigating whether President Trump tried to obstruct justice by firing former FBI Director James Comey last month, placing the Trump administration in a legally perilous situation less than six months into office.
The Washington Post reported Wednesday that Mueller has quietly reached out to multiple top intelligence officials to set up interviews as part of his sprawling probe into both Russian interference in the 2016 presidential election. That includes examining any wrongdoing by Americans that accompanied it, as well as any efforts to obstruct or curtail the federal investigation itself.
From the Atlantic, HERE, since the WAPO article is behind a paywall…
How wide is this investigation going to get???
Grrr…
ODNI Clapper restated that he had not seen evidence of Trump/Russian collusion going back to last year.
James Clapper, the former Director of National Intelligence, told a Senate Judiciary subcommittee on Monday that he still has not seen any evidence of any kind of collusion between the Trump campaign and Russian foreign nationals.
Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-N.C., asked if Clapper’s prior statement was correct, when he said on NBC that there was “no evidence’ of collusion between the Trump campaign and Russian officials. When asked if that is still accurate, Clapper said Monday, “it is.”
Full article, HERE.
Now correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t BO say there was nothing to this? And didn’t all this actually go down on ‘his’ watch?
But it seems only Trump and his people are being questioned…
Why was the DNC server never examined by FBI Cyber? I know some of those folks and they are damn good! Who actually pulled the string that tied the Russians into it WITHOUT examination???
Why was this not investigated PRIOR to the election? If it was this serious, one would think people would have been all over it… Even the FBI says they’ve been investigating since something like last July! Which tail is wagging which dog?
It’s a given that the left will do ANYTHING to tear Trump et al down, but this just seems even further over the top than normal. Granted Flynn obviously did wrong, and deserved to be fired, but I can only wonder if they are trying to take out the various Secretaries one at a time. Sessions now, then who???
And why are the Dems saying Sessions is lying and stonewalling the investigation that he’s recused himself from??? When he spent YEARS working in the Senate with these people?
His opening statement boiled down to these words, IMHO,
In Tuesday’s testimony, Mr. Sessions excoriated — in a voice that appeared quavering with anger at times — those who are knowingly distorting plain and simple events into this vast web of conspiracy.
“The suggestion that I participated in any collusion or that I was aware of any collusion with the Russian government to hurt this country, which I have served with honor for over 35 years, or to undermine the integrity of our democratic process, is an appalling and detestable lie,” he said, looking sharply at the senators he worked alongside for the past two decades.
Full article, HERE.
Apparently they wanted him to throw Trump under the bus to save himself today, which he refused to do, and he also refused to be bullied into answering questions without being able to frame the answers correctly…
I can’t help but wonder what the ‘next’ manufactured story is going to be, and who will twist the truth first, the dems or the MSM. When the dems are actually confronted on the collusion claims, not a single one has come forward with anything like proof, a smoking gun, or anything other than innuendo…
And I wonder where the truth actually is anymore? Hiding in a tunnel somewhere in fear for its life???
Looks like the drought on .22 of all types are finally over!
After almost half a decade, the long-standing drought of 22 Lone Rifle ammunition is finally behind us. Confirming this triumph is good old Wal Mart who announced internally that any and all restrictions on purchasing 22 ammo in bulk have been removed.
The Firearms Blog broke the story, HERE.
That is good news for instructors and others that practice with .22s in various forms. It may also presage the increased availability and lowering of prices on other calibers. I’ve been buying 100 round CCI packs for $7-9, depending on availability, while waiting for the backorder to be filled from CMP.
So maybe, just maybe, that logjam will finally break loose too!!!
Of course with every upside, there is also a downside…
Various ammunition manufacturers have announced layoffs and furloughs as demand for ammo has decreased rapidly while manufacturing capacity has continued to increase.
There seems to be a secondary effect happening, with the resurgence in interest in rimfire weapons. Smith & Wesson, Ruger, and others have been quickly pushing new 22 LR models and innovations including the latest Ruger Integrally Suppressed 10/22 Takedown model.
Let the fun begin! 🙂
Apparently somebody nominated my little blog for the 2017 Paul Revere award.
The number of small conservative blogs nominated since the inaugural award presentation in 2013 has tripled. We here at Political Clown Parade are indebted to everyone who took the time to submit the names of blogs who are the modern-day offspring of the American Revolution’s pamphleteers—the brave and resolute men and women who feed our soul, who make us laugh about ourselves or life and restore our buoyancy in a troubled world.
The Paul Revere Award is dedicated to those bloggers who hold down jobs and raise their families while standing guard over liberty. The icon for the award is American patriot Paul Revere who’s legendary “Midnight Ride” to warn the colonists of Massachusetts before the historic battles of Lexington and Concord played a vital role in America’s struggle to gain independence from Britain.
You can vote HERE at Political Clown Parade. Voting closes on the 17th.
I have to say I am humbled to be even considered for such an award, and there is some pretty damn stiff competition, including some friends of mine. If you’re so inclined go over there and vote for your favorite blog. I’m not going to ask you to vote for me, per se, just vote for your favorite off the list.
Thanks to those that have already voted for me!!! 😀
Go read THIS article from Strategy Page first, then come back…
I’ll wait…
Okay, here we go. Most, if not all of what the author references is, in fact, old news, at least in certain circles. That’s pretty much a given, due to the amount of information that has been ‘published’ via various sources since the late 1980s.
However, this statement-
But there is one aspect of the new Cold War that is very déjà vu. That is the way American military commanders are responding to all the military theatrics by solemnly declaring that the enemy (Chinese, Russian, North Korean, Iranian) military threat may be more than the United States can handle. This sort of thing is reminiscent of the Cold War exaggerations of Soviet (Russian) military power. Even during the Cold War, many civilian analysts pointed out the tendency to overestimate the effectiveness of Soviet weapons, equipment, leadership and training. This distortion became pretty obvious after the Cold War, when much was revealed.
The puffery is back now with regard to China and Russia. It’s no secret that China and Russia have long found it impossible to create effective military forces in peacetime. Not to underestimate them, but both nations have a long history of spectacular failure in this area. The Soviets proved that the historical lessons still apply and the Chinese make some serious efforts to deal with it openly.
This statement doesn’t take into account the actual shape and manning level of our forces. It’s not that the Chinese, Russians, et al have improved ‘that’ much (granted they have improved some and are continuing to advance new technology), it is that we are in dire straits on the weapons, maintenance, and training sides of the house. BO ran everything into the ground, putting off maintenance, reducing the budget through sequestration, which cost the military not only in lost training (can’t afford to get underway, can’t fly, etc.), but further delaying maintenance on ships, aircraft, helicopters, submarines, basically everything… And last, but not least, not putting replacement weapons contracts in place. I’m pretty sure we’re into the war reserves on a number of weapons systems. NONE of those get fixed overnight, or even a year or two. I’d say at least three years, at the minimum just to get the Fleet back to good shape.
And upgrades/new technology/new systems? Ten years, minimum… Due to the acquisition requirements today, even if the greatest thing since sliced bread comes along, it won’t get to the Fleet until 2027 at the earliest, because it will take that long to go through development and testing…
Ships/subs? Twenty years, minimum. The F-35? It actually started in 1997!!!
So yeah, while they don’t do real well, both the Chinese and the Russians, along with their allies, ARE in better shape than we are. They will throw people and equipment at whatever goal they have, not caring how may die to achieve that goal. America mourns EVERY loss, for good reason, but that also puts us behind the 8 ball…
Comments???
Seems like ‘most’ of the things in the ‘news’ or what passes for it lately is either a hoax, an outright lie, or projections on the part of the MSM to ‘convince’ us of something…
I’m just hunkering down and writing this weekend, and piss on the media.
First, thanks to those that purchased Rimworld- Into the Green, and thanks for the reveiws. One reviewer pointed out there is a discrepancy with some formatting of text colors, and I’ve fixed that. It appears a random switch from black to dark grey occurred on some pages, somewhere in the process of uploading the book, and converting it from paperback to Kindle.
My apologies to all those who’ve dealt with this. The corrected copy should be up tomorrow.
On The Grey Man #5, I continue to make progress, and another tease for you… As usual, stream of consciousness, unedited…
Grinding Through
Jesse huffed, blew a stray strand of hair away from her face, and picked up the next batch of papers El Paso PD had forwarded from Deen’s apartment. Bank statement, bank statement, water bill, electric, internet… Oh, wait. Phone bill. She deposited the bank statements and other bills in one of the piles on the conference table, picked up her coffee cup and headed back to the kitchen. Taking the last cup, she grumbled, “He who takes the last cup, makes the new pot. Why, do I always seem to get the last cup?” Digging around in the cabinet, she found a can of Folgers and filters, setting them on the counter, she dumped the old grounds in the trash, put the new filter full of coffee in the brewer, and hit the brew button.
She checked her watch, groaned, and steeled herself to go back to the paperwork battle. When she walked back into the conference room, Matt was sitting on the other side of the table, smiling. “What are you so happy about,” she grumbled.
“Broke the code on the phone. It was Deen’s TPO employee number. I’ve got at least forty incoming and, so far, twenty outgoing calls, and a few SMS messages, but all those look work related.”
“I’m glad somebody is getting something done. Came up cold on the banking info. His checks are direct deposit by TPO, and all of the deposits are from TPO. They match his payroll records, and his withdrawals are all at a branch that was a block from his apartment. I called the branch and they knew him. Seems like his big withdrawals were always just before he went back in the field. Other than that, he used his debit card at the grocery, the cleaners, and that’s about it.”
Matt nodded, “Ties in with what Owens told us.”
“Did the Rangers get anything off his home computer?”
“Nope, he apparently seldom used it. Most of the emails were from the company, a couple from an old military buddy, and two from that cousin we identified, Harber? No, Haber. She was bugging him to come see her, which she’d already told us when we did the phone interview, remember? No real media presence, one dormant Facebook account, one old Yahoo email, and one work email was it.”
“Oh, right. She was his emergency contact at TPO. Gah, now I know why I never did a murder investigation. This is a PITA! This is what, the fourth shift that we’ve worked on this background stuff.” Sliding the report across the table, she said, “Here’s the autopsy. Death by gunshot. One hollow-point forty-five round, Speer Gold Dot. Fired at less than a foot, upward angle, approximately thirty degrees. Powder residue on his shirt, along with stippling from the unburned powder. Round clipped the aorta, causing Mr. Deen to bleed out in less than a minute. Possible defensive wound, powder residue on the left palm, but not definitive.”
Matt replied somberly, “It’s not fun, but it’s necessary. At least we’re getting help from the Rangers and El Paso PD, otherwise we’d be driving all over hell and gone. And don’t forget, we’ve got to be back down at TPO thirty-seven this afternoon. Owens is going to meet us there with one of Deen’s friends.”
Jesse sighed, “One of his few friends. That must have been one lonely man. Parents all dead, no brothers or sisters, the one cousin that seems to be his only family point of contact. Ex-wife hasn’t seen him or talked to him in over ten years, no kids. He really didn’t have anybody, other than Owens that he appears to have ever talked to.”
“Apparently, quite a few oil field folks are loners, guess this is one more proof of that. What did you find on the bank stuff?”
Jesse handed her notes across, “So far, one checking account, eighteen thousand in it. One savings account, one hundred thirty thousand in that one. TPO HR, grudgingly mind you, did admit he was in the four-oh-one K, with slightly over four hundred thousand in it.”
“Huh, not a big spender in the last fifteen years, then. Apparently, at one time, he was a boozer and a fighter. He had an arrest record going back to the mid-eighties for fighting and two arrests for drunk and disorderly. Owens confirmed those, and I think Owens was probably with him, or at least I got a sense of that. The stopping point for both of those appears to have been his divorce, nothing after that.”
Jesse cocked her head, “Get anything off his personal cell?”
Matt grimaced, “Nope. Calls to and from Owens. One call a month ago to his cousin. A string of texts, but they were all work related. One text from his cousin, something about a family reunion, never even answered it. Only four numbers in his contact list. Owens, his cousin, TPO Operations, and his bank. That was it.” Waving a sheet of notes, he said, “El Paso PD came up dry too. Neighbors knew him to wave and say hi, but that was it. Bar around the corner recognized him, but said he only drank cokes and watched college football. Pretty much a dry hole there too.”
“Wow, so he really was a loner.” Jesse glanced at the clock on the wall, “Well, better pack this up, we need to head out to the patch.” She started putting the spread out paperwork back into file folders, as Matt put his sheets back in the evidence bags with the respective phones.
***
They pulled into TPO 37’s rig a little after lunch, with Matt backing the Tahoe in next to Owen’s truck. Owens leaned against the front fender, somberly watching them, as they got out. “Afternoon, Deputies.”
Jesse took the lead, “Good afternoon, Mr. Owens. Thank you for…”
Owens interrupted, “It’s Jim. And I was wondering… Well, have you found anything?”
Matt shook his head, as he watched a middle aged Hispanic walking toward them, “Nothing that is any different than what you told us, sir. I still need the unlock code for the Iridium though.”
Owens smacked his head, “Ah crap. I thought I gave that to you, It’s the numerics for TPO Ops.” Pulling his phone out, he read off, “Eight, seven, six, six, seven, seven. TPO Ops.”
Matt nodded, “Thanks.”
Owens turned to the Hispanic, “Jesus, the deputies would like to talk to you about Rick.”
By unspoken agreement, Matt stuck out his hand, “Thank you for coming out to talk to us. I’m Deputy Carter, this is Deputy Miller. And you are?”
Shaking Matt’s hand he answered, “Jesus Garcia. I worked with Rick and the rest of the boys for the last six years.”
“The rest of the boys?”
Jesus answered, “Si,” waving at the other men moving around on the rig, he continued, “We all work together. Same, same people, six year now.”
Matt whistled, “Damn, isn’t that kind of unusual?”
Jesus grimaced, “We… We are all, how you say, recovering.”
“Recovering?”
“Mostly booze. Jason, drugs. Danny, booze and drugs. We keep each other sober. Nobody else wants to work with us. Fine by us. Is quiet, and we get job done.”
“How long did you know Mr. Deen?”
Jesus thought for a moment, “Probably fifteen year. I fight him once on a rig. He beat some sense into me.”
“What about the others?”
“Probably close to ten year. Jim, he put us together six year ago. Call us his go-to crew. We get hard jobs, don’t screw up.”
Matt questioned him for another fifteen minutes, then asked, “Did you know or work with anybody that rode a motorcycle, anybody that got fired lately, that might have blamed Deen?”
Jesus shook his head, “No. We don’t know who get fired. We work together. Not pay attention to other crews.”
***
Two hours later, they were both sweating but had completed the interviews with all of the crew on the rig. Jesse turned to Matt, “Now what?”
Matt shrugged, “Good question. Nobody knows anybody that rides a motorcycle, and this crew obviously got along. Doesn’t seem like anybody had problems with Deen, in or out of the company. Let’s go back and I’ll pull the data from the Iridium, and we’ll go see your Grandpa.”
“Sounds good to me, I need some A/C about now. You know we probably should have used their office to do the interviews, right?”
Matt shook his head, “Nope. No telling who would have listened, or even tried to record it. This way, we had them out in the open and they didn’t get a chance to compare answers. Let’s go find Mr. Owens and get out of here.”
They trudged slowly over to the rig office, and found Owens on the phone, obviously not happy, “I don’t care what you have to do, I need two more guys for forty-four, and I need them by tomorrow! If you can’t get ‘em, I’ll pull these guys off thirty-seven and send them up there.” They heard a mumbled response and Owens started to slam the phone down, but stopped and put it very gently back in the cradle. “What can I help y’all with now?”
Jesse replied, “Nothing, sir. Just wanted to let you know we are done. Still wondering if anybody rides a motorcycle that might have interacted with Mr. Deen.”
Owens threw up his hands, “Beats the hell outta me. Only thing I can do is ask ops if anybody that works on the yard rides one. That would be the only other place he might have known somebody that rode one.”
“We’d appreciate that, sir. Sorry we took up so much of your time.”
Owens waved them off, “Not your fault, you’re doing the best you can, it’s just that I’m short people, and HR is screwing around with the hiring. I need people now, not in two weeks!”
Matt said, “Good luck with that, we’ll go through the Iridium phone, and I should be able to release that back to you next week.”
As they started for the door, Owens asked softly, “Anything on the equipment or the truck?”
Matt and Jesse glanced at each other, and Matt replied, “Nothing that we are aware of. It’s like everything disappeared into thin air.”
Owens huffed, “Probably went across the border then. Well, that’s why the company has insurance, I guess.”
***
A half hour later, cups of coffee in hand, they were camped in the old man’s office, waiting for him to get out of a meeting with the sheriff. Yogi was sitting with his head on Jesse’s leg, as she petted him distractedly, while she and Matt played 20 questions over what they had and hadn’t found. Matt finished his notes on the Iridium, shook his head and disgustedly shoved it back in the evidence envelope, “Nothing. All work numbers, both incoming and outgoing, except a nine one dial at nineteen thirty on the… Shit! We’ve got a time for the murder, if I’m right. I wonder if he was trying to dial nine one one?”
Jesse sat forward, “How does that factor in with what Doc estimated was the time of death?” Jesse opened her notes, searched for a minute and said excitedly, “That’s in the window!”
The old man came in, asking, “What’s in the window?”
Matt and Jesse both tried to answer, and Matt finally said, “Found a nine one dial at nineteen thirty on the Iridium that fits with the date of the murder and might give us the time of the attack, if I’m right. I think he might have been trying to dial nine one one.”
The old man sat slowly in his chair, “What makes you think that? And where would a nine one one call go from an Iridium?”
Matt replied, “In the US, it would actually connect to nine one one. I know that for a fact.”
The old man cocked his head, “How?”
“I’ve used one before for an emergency evac during an exercise.”
“Okay, what else do you have?”
Jesse started the review of the paper and bank records, Matt did the phones and what had come in from El Paso PD, and they laid out the timeline they had come up with, based on the phone data, interviews, and personal connections from all the data.
The old man didn’t say much, wrote a couple of notes and grunted a couple of times, but let them get all the way to the end.
“So, we have a spent Speer Gold Dot shell case, which means the perp didn’t take the time to pick it up, or didn’t bother looking. That might correlate with the nineteen thirty attempt at nine one one, it was, no never mind. Sun would have still been pretty high, so that doesn’t work. Interviews with the crew didn’t turn up any problems, nor did the El Paso PD canvass. In other words, what you’re saying is we have an unknown perp, maybe riding a Harley, or some type of road bike, who may or may not have ridden through an open gate, and murdered one Rick Deen.”
Jesse slumped, “That’s pretty much what we came up with Papa. And he’s a… was a loner.”
The old man reached for the phone, set it in the middle of the desk, hit speaker and dialed Clay’s cell. Three rings later, they heard a tinny, “John?”
“Clay, this is John, with Jesse and Matt. Want to chat about the Deen investigation.”
“Standby. They heard a click and a pop, then an even tinnier reply, “Okay, I’ve got Levi on here with us. You want to start?”
Matt and Jesse ran through their respective findings yet again, with Clay and Levi asking the occasional question. After they finished, Clay added, “Had CBP pull the tapes for the southbound lanes, three trucks matched your stolen truck, two with US plates that went down and back, and one with a Mexican border zone plate. It got flagged for no windshield sticker, but the driver claimed he’d taken it to the dealer for a new windshield and transmission work, so they let him go. That might have been your truck. Or it might have been stripped and parted out. Either way, its disappeared. Same, same on the computers. Nothing’s shown up in any pawn shops. Considering those are oil field computers, our IT guys in the JOIC[1], they may have been sold to somebody looking to see if they can get any industrial data on TPO’s operations or procedures.”
The old man said, “So dead ends?”
“Pretty much. And the Fibbies came back with the same thing you did on the motorcycle tread. Generic Avon Cobra tire, which fits most of the touring bikes. The oil patch was Mobil One, twenty W fifty. Again, generic to most touring bikes.
Jesse said, “We did ask about other people that might have ridden a motorcycle and work at TPO.”
Levi replied, “Good thinking. I’m pretty sure Deen did spend time at Ops. We’ll send you what we have, and we’d appreciate your forwarding what you’ve documented, too.”
Matt and Jesse chorused, “We’ll do that.”
“Okay, talk to y’all later. John, give me a call tonight.”
“Will do.” The old man punched off the speaker, “This one isn’t going well.” Holding up his hands he said, “Not your fault. Just too many missing pieces. Y’all go write up what you’ve got and we’ll keep pluggin’ on it, for what that’s worth.” Matt and Jesse gathered up their papers, silently left the office, and started looking for open computers they could use to finish their documentation.
[1] Joint Operations Intelligence Center