Page 47 of Edge of Honor

“Can I help you officers?”

“Agents,” said Fields, correcting him as she walked toward him andtook the initiative. “FBI. I’m Fields and this is my partner, Special Agent Carolan. Are you Lucas Weber?”

“Do you have a warrant?” he replied.

“Why would we need a warrant?”

“Because,MizzFields, I know my rights.”

He drew the word out, purposefully being antagonistic, trying to get a rise out of her.

“Again, it’s Agent Fields, and technically you buzzed us in, which—”

“And now I’m buzzing you out,” he said, cutting her off. “So take the same stairs you came up here on and fuck off.”

Somewhere in the back of the gym, someone laughed. Another anonymous voice yelled, “You tell her, Lucas!”

Fields wasn’t in the mood. Standing in the middle of the gym not only provided him with an audience, but also encouraged him to be disagreeable. “Maybe we can talk privately in your office?” she suggested.

“What part of ‘you don’t have a warrant, so fuck off’ do you not understand?”

“Listen, you and I have something in common.”

“Oh, really. What’s that, Mizz Fields?”

“Neither of us wants me to be here. So, let’s just go into your office, we can have a little chat, and then we’ll be gone.”

Leaning, trying to intimidate her, he said, “Or else what?”

Not at all intimidated by him, she also leaned forward and, without missing a beat, lowered her voice and responded, “Or else I’m going to pull parade permits for the Black Baptist Alliance, the Black Chamber of Commerce, the Black Justice Coalition, Black Lives Matter, the Black fucking Panthers, and any other Black organization I can think of, and will have them marching up and down your street from now until Christmas, just to piss you off. And that’s just for starters.

“Did you know that there’s a national association of Black IRS agents?” she continued. “You don’t need to answer that. It’s already written on your face. How about this? Can you guess who they absolutelyloveto target with audits? If you guessed twice-convicted White supremacists, you win today’s prize. They also love to target their employers, because where there’s one of you racist assholes, there’s always more. Are you gettingthe picture? If not, we can talk about how many Black building inspectors Baltimore has and the kinds of businesses they want to make sure are up to code.”

“This is a fucking shakedown.”

“Relax. Nobody’s shaking you down, Lucas. I told you, we just want to talk. Ball’s in your court. Are you going to find your manners and invite us into your office?” asked Fields. “Or am I going to have to start making some phone calls?”

Weber might not have been the brightest bulb, but he was smart enough to know when to cut his losses. Taking a step back, he gestured with his right arm toward his office.

As he did, she noticed the 14/88 tattoo on the inside of his forearm. It was shorthand for the “14 Words”—a White supremacist maxim, which declared, “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for White children.” The 88 represented the eighth letter of the alphabet,H, and so stood for “Heil Hitler.” The sooner she and Carolan could get out of here, the better.

Inside the office, she took a seat while Carolan stood—one eye on Weber, the other on the door.

“I want to get my lawyer to listen in on this,” the man said as he sat down at his desk and reached for the phone.

“You probably should call your parole officer first.”

He looked at her. “My PO? Why would I call that prick?”

“Because he’s going to tell you what he told us, which is that you never requested permission to leave the state of Maryland and travel to Texas and California.”

Weber stared at her before his eyes nervously flicked to Carolan. He was trying to figure out what they knew and how much trouble he was in.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stated.

“Give me a fucking break,” said Fields. “Do we look stupid to you? We’ve got witnesses that put you in Laredo and Riverside. We’ve also got you on video at both of those underground fights.”

Fields held up her phone and showed him two separate freeze frames from the Dark Web footage.

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