Special Agent Justin Pierce - Personal Journal - Monday November 23rd, 2008, 15:00, Los Angeles

Okay it's been a busy couple of days and dear diary, I apologise for having taken this long to get some of this stuff down on paper - it's just this shit takes some processing.

Saturday night in the Big Easy and we rolled on to Mike Hamblin's place - the former leader of the ill fated 2005 version of the SOG team.  On the way, Frost and Chief got into it and it was still going when we got to our destination.  Poor sap - I remember how it felt to be kept out of the loop when you just know your own colleagues know more than they're saying so I cut him some slack - eventually.  Hambin's lakeside residence is a mini Fort Knox - perhaps not excessive for a man with a lot of enemies.  As it turned out, there were 3 less of them - Parisi and Chief found them in a tarp draped Chevy hidden down by the side of the lake.  Look like Mid City gangbangers whose ambush plans were...ambushed. 

We tried to make entrance to Hamblin's property but other than attracting the attention of the NOPD Lake Patrol, we drew a blank.  Something happened in the boathouse - something I have seen before.  I didn't entirely believe it then and I don't think I entirely believe it now - Frost gave it a name - Byakhee and Chief put two big holes in it.  We all watched, open mouthed as it sank beneath the dark waters of the Pontchartrain.  At least we know now it can be killed. I had a chat with Nick at the Opera Lovers Society about the whole affair - he reckoned it was waiting in ambush, probably summoned by Stenneau as insurance if the Mid City crew missed.  Strike 2 for the bad guys I guess.

We decided to check in on Devereux and talk turkey about this whole situation.  Her thoughts were that in 05 Mike and his crew faced down Screech's Bayou Cult - apparently, Katrina could have been a lot worse if Screech had his way.  Makes you wonder doesn't it?  Anyway, in the arcane pecking order, Screech played his cards but wound up with a busted flush putting Stenneau in the driving seat - so now, Screech is in Vic's pocket as opposed to the other way around. Hamblin is in the wind - I know she knows where he is but she says she doesn't and I know her well enough now to know that she won't give him up to me or anyone else.  It's hella frustrating because we're up against something big and bad and could sure use the extra resource but that's loyal Cecile for you and I guess in the future it's comforting to know that there's one person you could trust with a secret and know for sure she'd keep it.

So to Sunday and thanks to Devlin, we had sideline tickets for the Saints vs Colts at the Superdome.  Of course, this wasn't management altruism at play - more a chance for Stenneau's point man Charles H. Dupont to show his face and lecture us on men's rights and which side we should be considering coming down on.  Even offered us Boy Teche on a plate although what we'd have to do in return was left unspecified.  All this in a private box frequented by the great and the good and done with a white whiskered smile.  I asked Devlin point blank what his deal with Dupont was but the reply was enigmatic at best.  He was keen to ram home the fact he controls us and knowing Devlin's type, I suspect he's smart enough to play both sides.  I was glad that Devereux had risked his wrath by going to Herlihy about Venetta - it gave us some licence not to get railroaded off track and as Devereux said, she should be our focus.  I caught up with Nick before he left the state as Dupont had shared a quiet moment with me, directly threatening DG and telling us to stay the heck out of Stenneau's way.  If it fazed him, it didn't show and I don't know whether that makes me more or less confident.  Fact remains, we're all that DG has in the region although I hope to God they're going to be able to bring some more resources to bear if we find something to shoot at.

Monday came and I managed to get most of us out to LA to check into these Hell's Angels.  Willmot and Parisi picked the short straws of desk duty back in New Orleans.  Devlin was trying to work out what angle we're playing but the fact that most of us are out of his hair probably won the day.  LA - City of Angels where the sun always shines even when it's raining.  We checked in with Agent Brooks of the DEA who drove us up to Van Nuys for an orientation drive around the neighbourhood. 

Looks like the Sons of Twilight have a nice little deal going on here, laundering money that they invest in business and property so that they can keep their little white paranoid enclave just the way they want it.  Yeah - California Uber Alles. 

How the hell a black reporter got anyone around here to speak to her is beyond me - that girl was clearly brave, insane or  a bit of both which I guess makes her a friend of us Opera lovers.

Hang on Venetta - Cavalry's coming...