Action director Michael Bay took to the news microphones today to announce that he would no longer direct movies. Bay had just released his fifth Transformers film and was about to state that he felt it couldn’t be topped, when suddenly his podium exploded, blowing him across the room as ten men in body armor opened fire. Bay returned fire with an M2 50 caliber machine gun that he kept in his watch pocket, killing six of them and blowing up two of their vehicles.
Bay ran as the attackers’ explosives carrier caught fire and the entire press symposium exploded behind him, throwing fire high into the air and scraping an F-35 that took damage and screamed to the ground, blowing up a gas-tanker truck. The remaining covert soldiers ran for Bay, but the retiring director evaded them by stealing a motorcycle from a woman in incredibly short shorts and taking off across a busy highway.
Speeding away from the mayhem, Bay was almost rammed by a truck carrying rolls of aluminum. Bay responded with a grenade, destroying the driver (who was also shooting at him) and letting the metal rolls loose. As they crashed into every oncoming car and smashed their engines to massive ignitions of fireballs and shrapnel, Bay jumped the motorcycle off a bridge and leapt from it, landing unharmed as the bike flew down to the fireworks sale below, setting off a chain reaction of blasts that blew up so much stuff so bad and there was fire everywhere and the military sent in everything they had to stop the carnage with American flags waving over their Humvees. They in turn were blown up by a meteor impact which caused an even bigger explosion, which Bay turned his back to and walked away from in slow motion.
Bay later retracted his retirement, stating that he’d just come up with a new idea for a movie.
Beginning in the American Civil War armies began using lighter than air balloons to observe enemy movements, direct artillery fire, and even deliver messages from besieged cities. In the Franco Prussian war (1870) armies began to develop guns to shoot them down. At the beginning of World War I the British developed the Vickers “Balloon Buster” to bring down German observation balloons. The Vickers machine gun was an improved version of the Maxim machine gun created after Vickers purchased the Maxim company in 1896. The Vickers Balloon Buster was a version of the regular machine gun chambered in a large 11mm cartridge. The new powerful cartridge gave the balloon buster enough range to shoot balloons out of the sky. Typically, phosphorous tracers rounds were used to ignite the high combustible hydrogen gas which provided the balloon’s lift. Later in the war the Vickers Balloon Buster was phased out for longer ranged and more powerful flak cannons. However, the gun was excellent for dogfighting, and was often mounted on fighter planes. On the ground machine gunners found that it was also brutally effective as a heavy machine gun against infantry formations. It would serve as inspiration for other heavy machine gun designs, such as the Browning M2 .50 caliber machine gun.
Today, i bring you a World War II legend, the North American Aviation P-51 Mustang.
The Mustang is a long range fighter that was widely used in the escort role of heavy bombers such as the B-17 and B-29, it also went to action during the Korean War alongside the jet fighters of the time.
It was first flown by Royal Air Force (RAF) in the tactical recon and fighter-bomber roles, the P-51, in it’s earlier variants, was first fitted with the
Allison V-1710 engine and that limited the performace of the fighter at high altitudes. With the development of the B and C variants, the Rolls-Royce Merlin was the chosen engine and it gave a much better performance for the Mustang above 15,000ft allowing it to face Luftwaffe fighters such as the BF-109 and FW-190.
The version that really made the P-51 shine was the D variant, it was powered by the Packard V-1650-7, a license-built version of the Rolls-Royce Merlin 66 and was armed with six .50 caliber (12.7 mm) M2/AN Browning machine guns.
During 1944, it helped the USAAF ensure air superiority over Germany and also support bombings through it’s fighter-bomber roles but Europe wasn’t it’s only action zone, the Mustang also fought in the North African, Mediterranean, Italian and Pacific theaters.
When the Korean War broke out, the P-51s were the main fighters of the United Nations until jet fighters took their place but this was not their end as it continued to operate on the ground attack role, fitted with bombs and rockets. It started to lose ground to the newer USAF F-84 fighter-bombers,
United States Navy (USN) Grumman F9F Panthers and jets from other nations such as Gloster Meteor F8s. Today, the P-51 is widely used by civillians and air races.
That’s it for this photo series! As always, if you have any suggestions or contributions, don’t hesitate to send them to me.
The bigger, more advanced brother of the Wildcat, the Grumman F6F Hellcat was designed to replace the older aircraft and finally give the US an edge over the Japanese Zero. In this regard it performed exceptionally, destroying 5,223 aircraft during its service with the USN, USMC, and Fleet Air Arm; this was more than any other Allied naval aircraft, with a kill/loss ratio of 19:1. Over the course of the war almost 2400 aircraft were lost to all causes, 270 to aerial combat and over 1200 to accidents outside of combat.
The Hellcat competed against the F4U for the Navy’s contract of a new carrier-born fighter to replace the Wildcat. Both aircraft were built around the P&W R-2800 engine, the same as the P-47, which provided a whopping 2000 horsepower. While the F4U showed excellent promise it had issues with carrier landings, largely due to its long nose and landing gear legs, which left the Hellcat the winner of the contest; production of the F6F-3, the first combat model, began late in 1942, with the type’s first operational squadron equipping VF-9 of USS Essex in February 1943.
As with the Wildcat, and most US fighters during the war, the Hellcat was armed with six .50 caliber M2 machine guns. Some variants, mainly night fighters, replaced the inner .50 caliber gun with a 20mm cannon, giving it more offensive striking power. Hardpoints under the center wing section could carry up to 4000 lbs of ordinance, including 150 gallon fuel tanks, bombs, a torpedo, or HVAR rockets; this gave the Hellcat a potent ground attack capability, and the type dropped 6500 tons of bombs over the course of the war.
The Hellcat became the premier Navy fighter of the war, claiming fifty-six percent of all air-to-air victories for Navy and Marine units. Its combination of long range, maneuverability, armor, and armament allowed it to gain an edge over most Japanese types fielded during the war; a 13:1 against the A6M, 9.5:1 against the Ki-84, and 3.7:1 against the J2M. Most of the Navy’s aces were made in the Hellcat, including its top ace David McCampbell with 34 victories.
The US Navy, Marine Corps, and Fleet Air Arm all used the Hellcat through the war, in both the Atlantic and the Pacific. In most cases the type was retired immediately after the end of hostilities, with the F8F Bearcat for the USN, and various British aircraft for the FAA. Some Hellcats were used by the French navy postwar in Indochina, and several examples were used by Uruguay until 1960. Today a fair number of Hellcats remain in museums, including seven in airworthy condition.
Lance Cpl. JaCari Wells, a supply administrator and operations specialist with Marine Wing Support Squadron 372, Marine Aircraft Group 39, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, posts security using an M2 .50 caliber machine gun during Integrated Training Exercise 2-17 at Marine Air Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms, Calif., Feb. 15, 2017. ITX is an exercise designed to bring all the parts of a Marine Air Ground Task Force together to train as one. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl. Justin Huffty)
Since the development of the Fast Attack Vehicle for the Army’s High Technology Light Division in the 1980’s, various models of highly-modified Chenowth have served in the US Army and various American Special Forces units. The weapons carried by the Chenowth vehicles have included M60 7.62mm machine guns, M2 .50 caliber heavy machine guns, 40mm grenade launchers, and anti-tank missiles.
Designed and invented by the legendary John Browning, the Browning M2 was developed from Browning’s earlier machine gun design, the M1919 Browning. The M2 utilized the same principles of the M1919, only it was chambered in the powerful .50 BMG round, which was specifically invented by Browning for the weapon. During World War I machine guns were among the deadliest weapons of the war. American Gen. John Pershing requested the development of a larger caliber machine gun after seeing the effectiveness of various anti-tank guns during the war. John Browning obliged by developing the M2 and the .50 BMG cartridge.
A design of unparalleled badassery, the M2 is perhaps the most popular heavy machine gun in the world. Browning completed the design in the form of the M1921. However the M1921 had some flaws that needed worked out. Unfortunately Browning died in 1926, so another designer named Dr. S.H. Green took up the program, improving upon the Browning design between 1927 and 1933. The final product, the Browning M2 heavy machine gun, was adopted by the US military in 1933. Utilizing belt ammunition, the M2 could fire at rates of 450-650 rounds per minute. The powerful .50BMG round achieved a velocity near 3,000 feet per second, with an optimum range of around 1,800 meters. It could fire a number of different rounds, including regular ball, armor piercing, incendiary, explosive, and tracer rounds.
The heyday of the M2 came throughout World War II, where it was used in a wide variety of roles. When mounted on a tripod, jeep, tank, armored car, or other vehicle, they became a formidable anti-infantry weapon. Whereas the fast firing of the German MG-42 was known to terrify American GI’s, the hard thumping of the M2 was a sheer terror for Germany infantry. When combined on a quad mount, they made formidable anti aircraft weapons. They could also be mounted on boats, ships, and aircraft. In fact, during World War II and Korea, they become the most common guns for fighter aircraft and bombers. Heck, the M2 was so versatile, during the Vietnam War the famous sniper Carlos Hathcock used an M2 mounted with a scope as a long range sniper rifle.
After World War II, the M2 continued its service with the US military, seeing combat in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Today, the venerable M2 is still the most common heavy machine gun of US armed forces, making it the second oldest design in use next to the Colt 1911 (another Browning design). Furthermore, the M2 is not only an American weapon, but commonly used by most NATO countries as well. As a result, the M2 has been used on numerous battlefields across the globe throughout the 20th and 21st centuries.
This will be smutty later on but I wanted to set a story first.
This is an anon submission which Is really really well written so if you want another chapter like and reblog it and hopefully the author sees and submits the next chapter
I picked up my cardboard coffee cup and grabbed a napkin, wiping the spot on my desk where the coffee had run down then I placed it back in the exact same spot and folded the napkin neatly before dropping it in the bin. On the computer in front of me was the profile of Donatello Ventre. An ex con, convicted for trafficking. Criminalistics had just matched his finger print to one found at a crime scene of a girl who had been raped yesterday. I scanned through the profile for an address then picked up the phone. I was in the office today while my two colleagues worked the field. They were currently tracking down the victim’s ex boyfriend. He had been arrested for assault in the past and was as good a suspect as any.
I was maybe new to the whole detective thing but I spent two years as a crime scene investigator previous to this so I knew how these things worked. I punched in Carter’s number then waited for him to pick up.
“Appleby? What you got for us?” He barked in to the phone in his usual professional manner.
“The lab got back with the results of that finger print. It’s a match to a Donatello Ventre. Arrested and convicted for trafficking in 2013. He was released on parole two weeks ago. Last known address is 2443 Magnolia Street, Oakland.”
“Any registered firearms?”
I scroll down on the profile and browse the registered firearms.
“A service pistol. It’s a Beretta M9,” I read out loud, “and a 50 calibre M2 machine gun. I’ll call Oakland PD get some back up.”
“Ex service-man. How old is this guy?” Carter queries.
I scan the page again.
“62,” I inform him, “He owns a gym not far from his last known address.”
“Thanks Appebly. We’ll take it from here,” he replies, calmly.
I hang up and pick the phone up again, dialling the Oakland Police department.
“This is Detective Appleby with the California Bureau of Investigation. I need immediate back up at 2443 Magnolia Street. Suspect may be armed.”
“Two seconds,” the guy on the other end of the line responds and I hear him turn away to talk in to his radio. He requests back up and an inaudible voice responds, “Back up on route,” The cop informs me.
“Thank you,” I reply politely before ending the call.
I reach in to my drawer and take out my bottle of hand sanitizer. I rub some in to my hands and return it to is designated area of my drawer just as my boss enters the office behind me.
“Donatello Ventre?” I can tell she is frowning, trying to place the name.
“Out on parole for trafficking,” I explain.
“Ah. I dealt with him when they brought him in. Tried to say CSI were too rough with him. Threatened to sue the department until we presented him with strong evidence that convicted him.”
“I don’t miss the lab,” I chuckle.
“Yeah. One wrong move and the whole case collapses. Don’t think I could deal with that responsibility. How was he eligible for parole?”
“DA made him a deal. Name his accomplice and the sentence would be reduced with chance to file for Parole in 2015.”
“That guy was nothing if not a good negotiator. Tried to negotiate an alford plea with us the first time he was arrested.”
I look back at the screen, reading my way down.
“Arrested 2001 for armed robbery and assault.”
“And rape before that,” My boss explains before I can read that part.
“History repeating itself,” I sigh.
“Some people never learn,” My boss shakes her head, “What have we got on him?”
“Forensics matched his fingerprint to the one found on the condom wrapper at the scene.”
“Third conviction. Guy will be lucky to get out before he’s dead.”
“If I had it my way he’d get death for what he has done.”
“Yeah well we don’t make the rules. You inform Carter and Osbourne?”
I nod, “And Called Oakland PD for back up.”
“We don’t know for sure but he has two guns registered. One ex service and one machine gun.”
“Good call,” she agrees.
The phone rings, interrupting us before I can reply. I pick it up.
“Detective Appleby,” I announce in to the mouthpiece.
“Appleby it’s Osbourne we’ve got a 419, DB at 2443 Magnolia Street. ID says it’s Ventre. Requesting CSI and Coroner at scene.”
“I’m on it,” I reply before putting down the phone.
“CSI and Coroner needed at 2443 Magnolia Street,” I recite to my boss.
“Donatello?” She checks.
“Appears so,” I nod.
“Let’s go we can call on route.”
“You want me at the scene?”
“I think it’s time you got some field work in. Unless you’d rather stay in the office?” She raises her eyebrows, questioningly.
“Not a chance,” I shake my head with a small laugh.
I call the lab and request the crime scene investigators and coroner at the scene.
“Ready Appleby?” My boss asks as she turns the siren on her Jeep on.
“Ready Morgan,” I reply.
She ignites the engine and pulls out of her parking space with one hand over the back of her chair as she looks out the rear window. Within seconds we are speeding amongst traffic on route to the crime scene. We are caught up by the coroner and CSI’s as they respond to my call.
The scene is already cordoned off.
“Talk to me Carter,” Morgan demands as she climbs out her car. I follow them as they duck under the tape and head in to the house.
“Male DB. Multiple stab wounds and gunshot to the head. Looks like he was tortured then killed.”
She steps aside and I have a clear view of the body. The man is old enough to be Donatello but something is out of place. I frown and kneel down. I may be a detective now but I still think as a CSI. I glance over the body, trying to pin point what isn’t right. It hits me with a jolt.
“This isn’t Ventre,” I tell my colleagues.
“What?” Osbourne frowns.
“Donatello has a large mole on the centre of his neck, by the Adam’s apple. Even with the blood spatter you can see that this guy doesn’t.”
“Where was the ID?” Morgan asks my co workers.
“Beside the body,” Carter explains.
“Consistent with Donatello being the victim,” She nods, “So somebody wanted us to think this John Doe was our suspect.”
“Why though?” I scowled, looking back at the body.
“CSI,” I heard from outside and I turned to see my old colleagues enter the house.
“Male DB,” Morgan explains, “ID indicates it’s Donatello Ventre. Arrested multiple times for different offences. We think it may be a frame job though.”
“Victim doesn’t match the suspect’s description,” I tell them.
“All right Appleby?” Irwin smiles at me as he kneels beside me.
“Be better when I know who this John Doe is,” I admit.
“I’ll put a rush on fingerprints.”
The coroner and my other old colleague, Pritchard join us on the ground.
“Multiple stab wounds, gunshot to head,” Morgan informs the coroner.
“Possible Cause of death,” the coroner nods, “Rigor has set in so he’s been dead more than 12 hours.”
He moved aside to let Pritchard collect the dead man’s prints. She did so and handed them to Irwin.
“Stab wounds seem to be in a pattern,” Irwin noted, “Can you open his shirt please?” he addresses the coroner.
The coroner obeys and unbuttons the shirt, moving it aside.
“Oh god!” Everyone groans at once. Carved in to the victim’s chest is the symbol of an oak tree with the letters “TMO” under it. A gang tag.
“The mighty Oaks,” Irwin sighs.
“How many deaths does that take their total to now?” Carter shakes his head.
“Seven this year so far,” Pritchard replies, “If it is the Mighty Oaks then there is no way anything will tie them to the scene other than the tag.”
“And we can’t arrest the entire gang,” I acknowledge.
“There has to be some way to stop these guys,” Irwin groans.
“Best we can do is our jobs,” Morgan replies, “Process the scene. Maybe the killer got careless and left something behind.”
She turns to the coroner.
“Alfred wait with these guys and take the body to the morgue when they are finished. Make sure you photograph the scars. Carter you go with Appleby and check the neighbourhood for any witnesses. A crowd has already gathered out there. Someone must have seen something.”
Carter nods and I get to my feet and follow him out.
“See ya Appleby,” Irwin waves.
“Later,” I respond.
“We should split up,” Carter decides, “See if any of these nosy buggers saw anything. I’ll take this side.” He walks off to our left and I head right.
“Was it the oaks?”
Everybody bombards me with questions at once. I raise my hands to silence them.
“Did anybody see anything?” I ask.
Nobody responds. For a few seconds it is silence then an old man pipes up.
“Nobody going to say anything,” he tells me.
“Why is that?” I ask.
“Cause anybody names them then they wind up dead. We not suicidal ma’am.”
“And by them you mean the Mighty Oaks?”
“I don’t mean nothing,” the guy replies before turning and walking away. The crowd starts to disperse as people follow him and others realise they don’t want to be caught up in this.
Carter wanders over, looking at me hopefully.
I shake my head.
“Nobody wants to be involved if the oaks are,” He tuts.
“We’ve never been able to tie them down with evidence before,” I remind him, “And without eye witnesses we have nothing.”
“There has to be another way to get these guys,” Carter groans.
“Anything?” Morgan and Osbourne walk up behind us and we turn to face them and shake our heads.
“Nobody wants to risk the oaks wrath,” I explain.
“Can’t say I blame them,” Morgan replies.
“There’s not going to be any evidence in there,” I shrug, “These guys are obsessive. They clean up everything, don’t use any registered weapons. There is no way to trace this to them.”
“All we have is the tag,” Morgan agrees.
“Any decent jury will argue that it could be a copy cat. We have nothing,” Carter breathes out in defeat.
“What about that informant?” Osbourne asks, looking at our boss.
“What informant?” Carter queries and I frown.
“We have a guy in with the oaks. He’s low level but he might know something,” Morgan muses.
“It’s worth a shot,” Osbourne shrugs.
“Get Oakland PD to bring him in,” Morgan agrees, “Even if he can’t name the killer he might know something that can help.”
Osbourne fishes out his phone and turns away to make the call.
“Appleby you come back to the office with me. We need to ID this vic,” she orders and I notice she is holding the victim’s prints.
I follow her back to the car.
“I feel like the victim is familiar,” I tell her.
“He’s pretty beat up. Could be anybody,” She replies as we drive along the roads back to the Bureau.
When we arrive back she heads directly for the lab with the prints and I make my way back to the office. A guy is stood by the reception desk in a muddy wife beater and ripped jeans buy it’s not his clothes or pierced eyebrow that makes him stand out but the shaggy mop of hair on his head that is dyed a light silver colour.
“Appeby this is Michael Clifford,” Sandra at the reception explains.
“You work for Morgan?” the guy asks, eyeing me up in a way that makes me feel like a piece of meat in a zoo.
“Yes how can I help?” I ask pointedly, distracting his wandering eyes. They snap back up to my eye level.
“I’m the informant,” He replies, “You just had me dragged out in the middle of a shift. You better pay me back for that. I can’t afford to lose jack sh,it.”
“I’m sure the apartment will reimburse you,” I reply professionally.
“F.uc.king better,” he murmurs under his breath, “Well?” He adds, raising his eyebrows at me.
“What?” I ask.
“You gonna explain why I’m here or are we just going to stand in the lobby like tw.at.s?” He bites.
“Sandra is interview room one free?” I ask, taking charge.
Sandra glances at her computer.
“All empty,” she nods.
“Record this?” I check and she nods, turning the interview room camera on.
“This way,” I lead the half dressed delinquent to the interview room.
He traipses behind me and when I turn to hold the door open for him I catch his glance quickly shift from my backside to the room before us.
“Take a seat,” I offer as I pull my own one out and park myself on it.
“What’s this about?” The boy demands, sitting down and crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze is steely but I’ve dealt with worse and I stare back at him, a cold look on my face.
“Let me guess. You’re bad cop?” He exclaims with a smirk.
“I’m not good or bad,” I reply, harshly, “I’m just doing my job.”
“It’s usually Osbourne that deals with me. Where is he?”
“He’s at a murder scene. A man was taken down by the Mighty Oaks. You roll with the Oaks. What do you know?”
“What’s it worth?” He replies, cockily his eyebrow piercing raising slightly as he arches his eyebrow at me.
“Your usual payment isn’t enough?” I scoff.
“What about a kiss?” He grins, leaning in, his elbows pressed on the glass table. I overcome an urge to move him off the glass so he doesn’t leave marks, biting my lip to hold back my compulsive obsession.
“That sound good to you?” he chuckles, mistaking my lip bite for arousal.
“Hardly,” I laugh, “You’re not my type Mr Clifford so-”
“Michael,” he interrupts.
“Michael,” I proceed, “You are a paid informant for the CBI. You will be rewarded nicely if you tell me what you know.”
“Don’t know anything.”
“Now see I don’t think that’s true. Your a nosey guy,” I retort, “Your first instinct when I approached me was to eye me up and down, taking me in.”
“Wasn’t taking you in babe. I was checking you out. Not used to hot cops.”
“Detective,” I correct him.
He licks his lips and smirks before leaning back on his chair. I resist the urge to clean the elbow marks on the table but it takes a huge amount of effort.
“I bet you like discipline don’t you?” He asks, a smug look on his pale face, “You like being spanked?”
“Can’t say I’ve tried it,” I reply haughtily.
“I’m here when you want to,” he chuckles, pleased with himself.
“Like I said. You aren’t my type,” I respond, calmly.
“What is your type? Osbourne?”
I can’t hold back my laugh.
“I guess not,” he acknowledges.
“Listen either you have information or you don’t but if you do then you’d better share it with us.”
“Because if you don’t it will be more than easy to let the cat out the bag and what will happen to you when the Mighty Oaks learn they have a leak in their squad?”
His face turns deadly cold. He is clearly not used to threats. Finally he raises his hands in defeat.
“Fine. I heard through some folks that there was a hit put out on some Cop guy.”
“Are you telling me our murder victim is a cop?”
“CBI official,” he explains.
I wrack my brain, trying to think of an official in the Bureau that the victim reminded me of. It takes a few minutes but when it dawns on me I freeze.
“Upton,” I gasp, an image of the CBI head coming to mind. I don’t bother to end the interview but rush from the room. Morgan is walking in to the lobby as I approach.
“Upton,” she finishes with a heavy voice.
“Fingerprints confirmed it,” she held up the paper confirmation of the prints.
“What do we do?” I ask, completely lost. Upton was the perfect head of the Bureau. He was fair and polite and always went out of his way to be nice to his staff.
“We’re passing all other cases to the night shift,” She replied.
“The Mighty Oaks are our main priority.”
“Erm hello? Can I go now?”
Mr Clifford had emerged from the interview room behind me and now addressed my boss and I.
“He knows they put out a hit,” I tell Morgan as she looks at me.
“Not yet,” she decides, escorting Mr Clifford back to the interview room. She stops at the door after he walks back in and looks at me.
“You coming?” She asks.
I jump, not aware she wanted me to and quickly totter in to the room.
“Who was it?” Morgan demands the second the door closes.
“Get your employee here to undo her shirt and I’ll tell you,” he grins, wickedly.
“Or I could put your perverted a.ss behind bars for sexual harassment of an officer?” She suggests.
His smile drops and he groans, lifting a hand through his spiky hair.
“I don’t know,” he admits.
“Who was it?!” Morgan yells, not accepting his response.
“I told you I don’t know!” He yells back, “I’m just low level. I recruit people and train the new guys. They don’t tell me jack sh.it about that stuff.”
“You’ve been with them for two years now,” Morgan snaps, “What’s it going to take for you to get up there with the big guys?”
“I don’t know okay? I just do what I’m told. Train the girls to move the drugs and teach the guys how to shoot a gun. That’s it.”
Morgan stops abruptly and leans back against the wall. Mr Clifford and I look at her as she appears lost in thought.
“Fine you can go,” she tells him. He stands and holds his hand out.
“I’ll send your money with Oakland PD,” she snaps, exasperated.
He shrugs, not fussed so long as he gets paid.
“See ya sexy,” He winks at me as he opens the door and struts out of sight.
“What now?” I ask Morgan.
“I might have an idea,” she smirks, “I’m going to get Carter and Osbourne. Stay here.”
I nod at my demands and watch her leave. She returns fifteen minutes later with Carter and Osbourne.
“What’s this about?” Osbourne asked, leaning against the table. I stop myself from swatting his hands off the table. If this was my house he’d never be invited back. It astounded me how casually messy people could be.
“The informant is a low level member of the Oaks,” she tells us, “He trains the new guys. Teaches them how to use guns amongst other things. He’s also related to the head of the gang.”
“If he’s related to the head then how come he didn’t know anything?” I frown.
“He’s not blood related. His step dad is Victor Morelli. He runs the Oaks and the abandoned hotel they work from. They don’t have the best relationship so Morelli probably keeps him low level out of spite.”
I nod in understanding and so do Carter and Osbourne.
“Forensics are still examining the evidence but we all know they won’t find anything and without anything to tie any of them to the scene we have nothing for a warrant. We don’t know what we are dealing with here. The hit could have been performed by one member or multiple. What we do know is our boss is dead, The head of this bureau was brutally murdered and made to look like he was someone else.”
“Donatello has ties to the Oaks, He worked with Morelli back in the seventies,” Carter informs us all.
“So chances are he raped our other victim then went to Morelli for help in getting out,” Osbourne deduces.
“Body’s been there at least twelve hours. Plenty for him to fly the coop,” I point out.
The others nod.
“Donatello is probably far away on some exotic island now,” Morgan sighs, “But he would have to have got out quick. He had to know that Forensics would be at the scene within minutes and would find a way to tie him to it.”
“Meaning he didn’t hang around long enough to shoot Upton,” Carter muses.
“Rules him out as a suspect,” I agree.
“So what now?” Osbourne asks Morgan.
“I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t Upton but he deserves justice. We won’t find that with sitting here, praying someone slipped up and left something behind. We go in.”
“Undercover?” I double check.
“Carter,” Morgan nods, “You game?”
“For Upton,” Carter nods.
“Good. Then here is the plan. We bring Michael back in. He recruits the members. We have him act like Carter is a new recruit. We will need ID’s and back stories. Everything to get Carter in and keep him safe once he is in.”
“We need Michael to agree too,” Osbourne pointed out.
“Appelby and I will go and speak to him,” Morgan agrees.
I hold back a sigh. Michael Clifford is the last person I want to deal with again.