ROBERTA WAS looking into a pile of files on her desk at the Police HQ in Washington. She was delighted to see the black bulky detective coming in— she reminded Roberta of her older demised beat cop partner Manny Thompson who died in the line of duty many years ago in Columbus.
"This is all we got," said Chief Detective Bernie Planter, dropping a slim file down. Roberta skimmed into it succinctly while Bernie tore half of Roberta's sugarcoated doughnut and ate it.
"Is that it? Is that all we have on the Aryan Sisterhood Brand from Mississippi?" asked Roberta in disbelief.
"Yeah buddy, I don't know what the big fuss on this outfit is all about—they are just minor players compared to the other street gangs. All we got here is that they are a White Supremacy spin-off from the male predecessors—The Aryan Brotherhood—but the white women here are nowhere as the notorious in the big league compared other shemale gangbangers like the Blacks, Latinos or the Asian triads are into crime and street wars," replied Bernie licking the confectionary sugar off her fingers.
The e-SWAT captain responded. "But the FBI keeps briefing me that the Sisterhood is the future uprising in gang-wars threats."
The puzzled Roberta recalled—the languish Aryans hardly lasted an hour in the warfare against the e-SWAT forces encounter back in New Orleans during their blitz attacks—they were poorly trained and were even badly equipped for combat compared to the Preacher's One God's Army.
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"Now how the hell can they be labelled as a fucking top national threat?"
Bernie laughed at the non-satiated butch. "Beats me, 'bro', it doesn't add up, the FBI simply overrated them, I guess. The only major fracas on paper from the past was when they had caused a disturbance when they took the street 5 years ago during President Cory Inauguration.
"They had come armed and were chanting anti-Cory slogans with shots fired in the air when they crashed into a Cory victory rally that happened in Rosewood's Jackson, Mississippi—some arrest was made while most of the protesters dispersed after leaving behind a trail of damaged property—and that's all to it actually, to sum it up on the Aryans."
A text message came on the detective's cellphone. "Since the Jackson-ruckus, the Sisterhood was off the grid for some time with only some occasional drugs and vice arrests now and then—nothing much happened until recently when old Cory declared them as allies to that Preacher feller—and we made the purge on their camps; and you know the rest, you personally made the hits on them."
Another text came on her phone. "Gotta run, Rob—and by the way, there are some photos on their demonstration 5 years ago in Jackson in there," Bernie Planter walked to the door—and Roberta's voice stopped her before she exited out...
"Wait for a sec, Bern, who is their leader?"
"Nobody knows—the interrogation report in Mississippi recorded those members kept giving different names each time. It is all there—look it up."
"Thanks, Bernie." Roberta pulled out a grey envelope from the sleeves of the thin file and spread some of the photos on her desk...
One image caught her eye—her wife Lilya who was thirteen back then was in the picture with a younger girl. Both the young teens were holding up anti-Cory posters...
'White cunt, Blackheart.'