Aaron Drake, President of Drake Security
“In the past three months, seventeen people have been murdered in the Chattanooga area. The North Georgia area is supplying meth to us, and is one of the top ten places in the country for meth production.”
Aaron focused on Denny, the chief of police in Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia as he said the last bit, and then returned his gaze to Sheriff Beauregard and Assistant Chief Keller, of the Hamilton County Sheriff’s Department and the Chattanooga Police Department.
“You have a problem, gentlemen, and you aren’t going to be a big fan of my proposed solution, but I’d like to take the three of you to Atlanta and let you speak off the record with a few law enforcement professionals down there.”
Denny spoke first. “Not interested.”
“I’m not asking any of you to turn your back on crime, nor am I asking you to ignore the badge in any way.”
“You’re known to play fast and loose with the rules. Not sure you understand the view from behind the badge.” Denny wasn’t a fan of having to call in help for supernatural problems, though he did, when he recognized a problem his force wasn’t equipped to handle.
“I get the job done, and I do it in a way that lets me sleep at night. I’m not asking any of you to follow my moral code. You each have your own, and I know it’s strong, which is why I’m approaching the three of you. Every one of you knows if I was looking for someone to help me out by looking the other way, I’d have picked other people in your organizations.”
They all looked at each other, none willing to agree first. Aaron kept at it. “I’ll drive, or I’ll pay expenses for one of you to drive. The four of us are invited to the local police chief’s home. You’ll meet him, the county sheriff, two vice cops, a homicide detective, and the DA. After hearing what they have to say, if you’re interested then we have another meet with people you’ll hear about at the first meeting. The homicide detective and I will mediate, if you’d like. If not, the three of you go in without us. Your choice. There’s a party that night, some of the law enforcement people you met earlier in the day will attend. We’re all invited. I’ll pay for a hotel room nearby, and we’ll drive home the next day. The party will include wives, girlfriends, and kids. It’ll start out calm, it won’t end calm, but no one’ll get hurt and there’ll be no illegal activity.”
“Our forensic accountant doesn’t have access to all of the MC’s books, obviously, but we have a great deal of information. During the course of several arrests and trials where we subpoenaed various banking and IRS records, she’s managed to put together a nice picture. The majority of their income appears to be from their three bars and their custom bike and hot-rod shop. However, we know they’re pushing funds from their illegal activities through, cleaning it up, but there isn’t enough of a trail for us to trace.”
The Atlanta DA looked to the vice cop, who took his cue and said, “They take care of their girls. First time john — a brother in a cut personally walks her to the door, takes the money. The club has a doctor on staff, retired so he isn’t worried about losing his license. The only drugs we can trace to the club are birth control pills and antibiotics, and unless someone’s on parole, those aren’t enough for us to hassle them over. If there’s suspicion one of their new girls is using anything stronger than pot, they fire her. If she’s been around a while, they offer to detox her, but she doesn’t work again until she’s clean.” He shook his head. “I don’t agree with prostitution, but if it’s going to happen, the way they’re doing it is the way it should be done. We all know there’s no way to stop it, and if girls are going to do it, they should have people protecting them.”
“Doubt they’re doing it out of the goodness of their heart. What kinda cut they take?” This from Denny, the Fort Oglethorpe Chief.
“Less than or comparable to other pimps, but they provide an actual service for the take. The club buys condoms in bulk and supplies them for free, provides the girls with birth control at no charge, and a blood test every six weeks to be sure they’re clean. If a customer gets rough with a girl, the brothers send a message. Doesn’t happen often, but it’s well known you go to RTMC for pussy, you mind your manners.”
Chief Keller spoke up. “Sounds to me like you’re trying to convince us to bring a bunch of pimps to our city. I’m not terribly happy ‘bout that prospect.”