Read Under Suspicion - The Legend of D.B. Cooper Page 29
On the street above the dock, a crowd had gathered at the marina’s fence. Bradley walked out of the gate and over to where Chet was setting up a new video camera on a tripod.
“Where did they come from?” Bradley asked.
“All the shooting must’ve cleared out that bar down the street,” Chet replied. “Did you see what they did to me? They can’t do that to the press! Haven’t they heard of the first amendment?” He was red faced as he continued to set up the equipment.
The words fell on deaf ears as Bradley’s attention was drawn to a girl leaning against the fence looking at him. She was tall and tan, with curly blonde hair, and too much makeup. A tight red dress revealed a body that obviously saw the inside of a gym on a daily basis. From her head to her stilettos she was prime, Bradley thought. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
“Are you ready for the interview?” Chet asked as he brushed the last of the dirt from his suit and straightened his tie.
“What? Oh yeah, just a second,” Bradley said, as if shook from a trance. He took off his jacket revealing the shiny pistol in his shoulder holster. He then took his badge from his pocket, clipped it to his belt, and flung the jacket over the opposite shoulder and held it with two fingers. “What do you think?” Bradley asked.
“Nice touch.” Chet nodded. “Now put the other hand in your pocket and turn slightly so the camera can get a full view of your gun and badge. That’s good. Okay, let’s roll.”
He pushed a button on his remote microphone, and the camera and lights came on. Then he began to speak.
“Early this morning gunfire shattered the silence of this peaceful little community as a federal agent, with surgical precision, removed a drug supply line operating here. With me now is Special Agent Alan Bradley of the Drug Enforcement Agency. Agent Bradley, can you tell us what happened?”
“Yes I can, Chet. After months of painstaking investigative work, I was able to uncover a drug supply line which used a boat from this yacht club. The boat traveled in the darkness of night out to a freighter anchored in Elliot Bay. Cocaine was then transferred to the boat and brought here,” Bradley reported.
“What’s the street value of the drugs recovered?”
“Approximately ten million dollars,” replied Bradley.
“Really! Well that’s amazing, congratulations on stopping that much cocaine from hitting the streets of Seattle.”
“I was only doing my job,” replied Bradley, flashing a cheesy smile towards the camera.
“Agent Bradley, didn’t you just receive a commendation last night for your excellent work in law enforcement?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then how is it that you were able to make so big of a bust within hours of your award ceremony?”
“Well, Chet, a drug enforcement agent’s job is never finished. I must remain always vigilant,” replied Bradley.
“Well, we all feel safer knowing that, and on behalf of the community, I thank you for your dedication. You heard it here first,” he reported into the camera. “For Special Agent Alan Bradley, I’m Chester Green reporting from the Duwamish Yacht Club.”
A moment later the camera lights went out. “That’s it,” Chet said hastily, as he rushed to the camera to dismantle it. “I’ve got to get home and put this together fast if I’m going to make the morning news.” He placed the equipment in the jeep. “A little creative editing, and I’ll make you look like Rambo taking on the drug lords single handed. Do you want to come along?”
“No, I’ve got other plans,” Bradley said. Then he watched his friend climb into the jeep and drive off. Bradley turned to see the girl still standing at the fence. “To the victors go the spoils,” he said to himself. He walked over to her and said hello.