Continued from PART IV
In this segment, Eric and the other national leaders of the Muskets devise a plan to abduct the informant and the FBI agent responsible for Blevin’s arrest during a Sting operation by making it appear they are needed for a covert operation. The FBI had for a year sought leads about a “ghosted” national leadership, so he persuaded the hesitant informant to go. The plan succeeds, and the agent and informant are taken to a remote mine in Montana, where they are instructed to mix “a new kind of explosive” which is actually a mixture of plutonium, cesium, technetium and a sulfur compound. Afterward, the agent and informant are ceased and Kicks Iron interrogates the agent by threatening his wife and children. What follows is dramatic indeed.
Without regret, I formed a task force of Christof and Kicks Iron and included Blevins two sons who had joined as covert members after his incarceration. They intercepted the informant and agent as they left a local restaurant where they were known to pow wow after each monthly Musket meeting. Outside the restaurant was the first time they had met the four.
“We can’t just go with you without any notice,” the agent protested, “and if we did, we’d follow you in one of our cars. Where are you wanting to go anyway?”
“It’s a mission for the national Musket organization. We do more than smash sensors, you know,” Christof advised. “We can’t tell you the location because it’s covert. Can we rely on you or not? I was told you two are good coverts.”
The FBI’s task force had reviewed a recorded conversation overheard following a meeting of M-Texas by an infiltrated member there. The report raised the suspicion that a secret, national Musket cult existed, unknown to most local members. The agent had sat in on that meeting more than a year ago. That much time had passed with no leads. Surveillance of the other nine commanders, Blevin’s counterparts, often around-the-clock, had failed to turn up a single lead. They’d about abandoned the possibility. Now four members of the elusive, national cult were inviting them along on a clandestine mission. He could imagine the aggrandizement of his career such a singlehanded breakthrough would afford.
“There’s no ‘national’ Muskets,” The informant objected, nervously stepping toward his car.
“Yes there is. There must be.” The agent reassured, playing along,“How else would these four men know us if there wasn’t?”
“You’re with us, then?”
“Sure. We want to make all the difference we can,” the agent said. “Let’s go along, they need our help,” he told the informant.
“Leave your cell phones inside your vehicles so they can’t be used to trace our movements. It’s a standard precaution.” Christof said.
“I need to let some friends know I won’t be there tonight.” The agent responded. Flipping his phone open, he started to walk beyond ear shot and notify his buddies, but one of Blevin’s sons grabbed his arm.
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