The Circle: Rain's Story (8 page)

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Rain had called ahead
to let her lawyer, Mr. Morganstein, know she would be meeting with him that day. This would be only her second time in three years meeting him face to face. She had him on retainer ever since. She had given him information to check out about the status of Dayvid, Fallon and Autumn. When she arrived at his office, he welcomed her in immediately.

“
Miss Porter. Glad to see you again.” Wearing dark Chanel shades, Rain took his hand into hers and shook it. “Come right into my office.”

Dressed in a blue pinstripe Armani suit, he smelled like success and money to Rain, n
ot to mention being an expert at the federal criminal code.
Money spent well
, she thought. He showed Rain a seat and got straight down to business. Mr. Morganstein made room on his large desk for all the Porter folders and documents. Then he read aloud with a clear and dramatic voice.

“The  court document shows that your brother and sisters:
Dayvid Porter, Autumn Porter and Fallon Porter, have all been charged in federal district court all on a 54 count violation title18 of U.S. Code § 2113 conspiring to commit federal bank robbery—very serious charges.” he added.

Rain let ou
t a terrible gasp while clutching her mouth with her hand. He tossed the paperwork down on his desk and told her the rest.

“
Miss Porter, your name is included in the indictment as a co-conspirator also and you are now a fugitive and just put on America’s Most Wanted List.”

They spoke for nearly another thirty minutes of nothing but bad news. The
entire situation was grim. Mr. Morganstein cleared his throat and said.

“
Miss Porter, I also did the investigation you asked about on the death of….” He adjusted his eyes on the notepad he had in front of him and continued “…. A Laura Alverez… It appears that she was murdered. Not much information found, but according to police records, you are their prime suspect. I’m sorry.”

Rain turned her attention towards him, as a
lump grew in her throat. She closed her eyes and asked in an almost illegible whisper. “How was she killed?”

Mr. Morganstein rubbed is eyes and took a deep breath. “According to the coroner’s report, she died from deep knife incision wounds from her vagina, torso,
and abdomen and up to the lung cavity.”

Rain sat paralyzed as Mr. Morganstein sadly continued
. “They found some minor evidence, but not sure if it has anything to do with the crime scene.” Rain bowed her head and tears spilled out of her eyes, dropping to the table. Morganstein passed her the box of tissues, as he looked upon her with compassion and waited her out.

After seve
ral minutes of absolute silence, Mr. Morganstein softly asked, “Could I get you something to drink Miss Porter? Perhaps some water?”

Her mind was scrambled.
Who? Who would do this to her?
She thought long and hard. Rain inhaled deeply to try to shake it off then shook her head. She lifted her new bag off the floor, unzipped and removed a thick wad of money, handing him ten thousand dollars. She wiped the dribble of tears that already fell from her eyes. She exhaled, stood up and thanked him for his time. He handed her the court docket for each sibling date and time to appear at their first court appearance and location.

Just as she was about to leave, he assured
. “Oh, Ms. Porter.”

Rain turned to face
him, glared at him through eyes tainted pink with tears.

“You are my client, and under the law we have a client, attorney privilege. What was
discussed will never leave here. I am here for you for whatever you need and if I hear anything, I’ll have my secretary contact you, I have your number.”

O
nce outside his office, she headed for the elevator, heart still knocking inside her chest. Growing increasingly claustrophobic, she opted to take the fire exit down the steps, stumbling. Still in shock when she finally reached the lobby corridor, Rain rushed through the outside door, swallowing the much needed fresh air down her lungs.

She
staggered back to her car in a daze. It was as if she was in a horror movie or living in a real life nightmare. Almost all at once, the reality of what was happening seemed to overwhelm her.

America’s Most Wanted Fugitive, Rain Porter?
She cringed. Her brother and her sisters locked up, facing years in the hundreds. Someone horribly killed her first and only love, and she was the prime suspect? The world that she once knew was over, and she had nothing else to lose. She from that moment on knew that someone will have hell to pay. Since they forced her hand, and backed her into a corner, since they wanted rage, she knew that she would make front page and go out in a blaze of glory to get her family free.

Her mind shifted to what she was reading earlier in the Art of War that she took to memory: CHAPTER 2 – WAGING WAR
.

CHAPTER 11

It made no sense, Rain thought, to continue to do the proverbial “cry
ing over spilt milk,” because what’s done is done. Burdening herself with guilt and blame wasn’t helping her. She needed to be sharper and stronger than ever before in order to help her brother and sisters. Yes, she was certain it was going to take a miracle. From that moment on, Rain vowed to never cry again until each and every one of the Porter clan was home, or die trying.

Since she was now a fugitive, Rain had to be stea
lth. With access to close to two million dollars, not including the access she had to Dayvid’s money, brought her an umbrella of security and flexibility to stay at different locations each night. Giving her ample time to formulate concrete plans for her mission. The FBI was nothing like Maryland State Police Department; once they’re on you they are relentless. They didn’t wait for you to get caught speeding— no, they actively pursued you, and every known family member or associates you ever were connected with. They definitely meant business.

Opting to stay clear of Maryland for a few day
s, especially the city of Baltimore, she rented a modest hotel room, at the Ritz-Carlton. Thanks to her counterfeit connect; she had enough fake ID’s and driver licenses, to stave off her real identity to do commercial business.

Her room was spacious, plush and comfortable. She could
n’t resist taking a hot, long bath in the oversized tub, that double as a whirl spa. For the first time since the beginning of her tragic events, was she able to close her eyes, absence of morbid thoughts and worry. However, a nagging afterthought kept tugging at her soul. Something was amiss and out of place. A name that would not relent and continued swirling around in her mind, over and over again— that name was Smitty…and something just didn’t sit right with her.  

Nestled down in the hotel room
’s oversized, pillow top, luxury bed, Rain mulled over and studied her brother and sisters charges that Mr. Morganstein made copies and had given her. Rain’s brown eyes remained wide with anger, as she read every grim charge after the next.

“This is some bullshit
.” she shouted, shaking her head.

They didn’t have one chance in hell of getting out on bail or otherwise, so why
get her hopes up high. She searched through the mounds of legal documents until she found what she was looking for—the dates and times of all their court appearances. Her youngest sister, Autumn, was on the docket in four days. Perfect, she plotted. Right then she knew she would have to go Al-Qaeda in order to break her out.

Fear was no longer an option because she now knew exactly where she
stands. For the next few hours, she made a rough plan to at the very least, be semi organized. She kept reminding herself, as difficult as it was, she was willing to sacrifice everything, even her life to get her baby sister out, but needed some help and had to call on some favors.

THE BREAK-OUT

RAIN’S POINT OF VEIW

Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster
. —The Art of War

During the years, Rain proved to become a Master
Strategist. She treated it and strategized it like she did for each and every bank robbery she and her family pulled off over the past ten years. Rain and Dayvid were critically detailed, methodical and systematic. She studied and applied with unwavering diligence to perfection by these rules:

A)
    
The Master Strategist Must: Prepare and treat every battle, every threat, every enemy the same, no matter how small or big the person, group or army is.

B)
    
The Master Strategist Must: Determine how to take whole and thereby minimize waste and destruction.

C)
    
The Master Strategist Must: Know their enemy and strike when they are least expected by causing chaos and mass confusion.

But for the first time ever, with the exception of her
siblings and their mentor and co-conspirator Smitty, did Rain allow an outsider apart of her scheme. They simply were too much of a risk. The least amount of people the better, but under the present circumstance, she had no other alternative. In fact, she was to the point that she welcomed it, due to high risk, dire calamity, and a sure probable death, she recruited the help of an old friend – Miss Jackie.

If it wasn’t for the war wounds of her dope fiend days, scar ridden arms and
worn face, Miss Jackie would have looked like your typical grandmother or retiree. But beneath the surface she was one, if not thee, most connected person in the underworld of Baltimore. That had been her hustle for nearly twenty years, and she never failed to deliver. Her rules were simple –
If she don’t know you, she won’t fuck with you.

Miss Jackie kept her eyes forward at all times in the streets, but she heard
and saw everything. She rarely, if not ever, dealt with anyone new, because the rules of the game changed drastically over the years, but she had more than her share of connects. Her old school gangsta and clientele that still had one foot in and one foot out of the criminal world that made them wealthy. So if she knew you, and you had the money, she pretty much could deliver.

Coupled by the fact that she was her mother’s closest and dearest friend since they were younger,
Rain knew that she needed Ms. Jackie more than ever and asked her to not only provide her with a number of favors, but to also put her life on the line to break her siblings out— she did. Three days prior, on Friday, 7 o’clock on the dot, Rain was in Baltimore, at a local church to meet with her longtime friend, Miss Jackie. Miss Jackie attended Bingo every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evening and called in a favor.

She made the hours’
drive back to the church’s bingo hall in forty-five minutes, took the stairs down in the basement and strode into the bingo hall in search of her friend.

The 100 x 100 foot open space was lit with bright florescent overhead tubing, making it perfect for thinning vision senior citizens to read their numbers
on the bingo cards. It was then did she spot her old reliable friend.  

Handing her sixty t
housand dollars in cash in a brown shopping bag, she spoke to her very briefly and left her instructions. The message was simple, put the word out on the street. Tell every dope fiend, bum, drunk, hood rat, homeless person, and anybody else looking to make an easy hundred bucks, just to show up in the downtown court district. Drivers with cars will receive two hundred that showed up in the downtown area, by the courts, to be used as a diversion – at their own risk. Word spread fast, and by Monday morning, a legion of over five hundred souls, flooded the area.

             
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Initiate Plan 1: Reconnaissance - a preliminary survey to gain information, observation of a region to locate an enemy or ascertain strategic features, especially to increase the odds when unmatched and unmanned particularly in the enemy territory

                 Over the cause course of three days, Rain spent hours on end, watching and taking notes of incoming and outgoing of the exterior operation of the Federal Court House building, including the Department of Prisoners buses, number of officers on duty, and on the bus, buses route, average number of prisoners on the bus, male and female, and time.

             
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Initiate Plan 2: Execute – The Breakout

             
As expected, the day it was going down, and because of the high-profiled case of the captured Porters, the court house was buzzing with anticipation and had extra measure and officers on duty of the outside exterior. It was only a small set back to her plan, because in every event where in the midst of a robbery, they always had an alternate plan A, B and C. She did nothing different in planning her sibling’s breakout.