Part Four: Evasion
Man-slaying has consequences. Not all of them are immediate or readily perceptible, but a wise man-slayer accounts for as many consequences as can be done before he hunts. As I noted above, I did account for retaliation by the gangs through the use of disguise, confusion and deliberate provocation of a war between the two gangs. What I did not fully appreciate was retaliation from the authorities; they are jealous, to the point of stupidity, when parties other than themselves act to defend or avenge those wrongs committed upon them. Instead, the authorities insist that people succumb to a form of learned helplessness that results in dependency upon them to do so, and they issue rules—backed by force—to claim such a monopoly and grant themselves permission to enforce it by punishing transgressors of any kind.
This, good reader, is where the consequences for man-slaying came from first. I kept an eye on the authorities, for I—like everyone else—knew of this claimed monopoly, in case they decided to waste time on me instead of the genuine threats that they claimed (falsely, of course) to be concerned about. My prudence proved its value when I learned that the authorities became concerned about a third party possibly provoking the war between the Outlaws and the Hell’s Angels, and unlike many others I did not hesitate to act to evade this unwanted attention.
I knew that the authorities proved sensitive to attacks upon their prestige and reputation, so by attacking the public perception of the authorities responding to contain the gang war I knew that I could generate sufficient social pressure to get their eyes off of me and on to the gangs. My options were not options at all. All I could do was to take the risk of a further provocation, one that would be difficult to ignore and then put popular attention upon it. That’s three points where I could fail—the act, the result and the report—so I knew that I had to execute this properly or my entire scheme would fail. I kept all of this to myself lest the authorities; my friend knew nothing.
I did not attempt another false flag attack. Instead, using my connections with the authorities, I took the opportunity to do innocuous favors for them—getting them refreshments, fetching them food, etc.—while going about my everyday business. I made certain to deliver these items while those I aided were away from the center of the enforcer’s headquarters, usually at or near a place where they kept an eye on the gangs. Familiarity bred contempt, in this case for observing their own rules, and soon these people would let me into their hiding spots for the brief time it took to deliver the goods requested. My initial plan, therefore, was indeed working; I did not rush this phase of the plan, as I assumed the worst of cynicism of these authorities, and that patience proved correct.
Since I’d removed myself from prying eyes for the moment, I then took to observing their hiding spots in all ways. Many used mechanical locks, multiple ones, that required specific devices—“keys” we called them—to get past without undue attention during or after the fact. Using a technique that was an ancient one even at that time, I got impressions on all of the necessary keys and then made copies to use when the time came. I did this by being around often enough to be able to claim curiosity about the way that these enforcers operated, and played to their need to demonstrate their superiority when I did so; they obliged, showing me that they could access the clubhouses at any time without the gangs ever knowing of the intrusion.
Now, I said previously that plans don’t survive contact with the enemy. That maxim is not one to take literally; circumstances change and unforeseen events occur that requires one to adjust a plan or scrap it altogether. In this instance, I had the idea of inducing the authorities to act on a prejudice that would escalate the gang war by getting the authorities directly involved as a third actively-hostile party- and thus get the gangs to retaliate upon them. Now I had another idea, which was to bomb one of the clubhouses, and these hiding places would give me the means to do so without detection.
I went with a sort of bomb known at the time as a “Molotov Cocktail”, which is a mixture of a couple of liquids—one of which is very easy to ignite—put into a glass bottle or similar fragile container that one can easily throw. Put a burning rag into the top, throw at the target and watch the rag ignite the liquids; this would result in the target burning to ash or worse. All of these components were freely available, and could be gotten in quantities that would not attract undue attention.
I assembled them at home, in a building apart from my house, and disguised them as standard consumables. I kept the rag and a fire-starter device concealed on my person. Then, when they were ready, I went over to the Hell’s Angels clubhouse when I knew that those watching it were not there due to a regular shift in the watch. That would be enough time for me to sneak into the watcher’s place, get into the best place for throwing, and throw my bombs- and that occurred without incident. After I got away, I did again as I did with the first provocation: I discarded all of the clothes that I wore, and I made certain as I made my way out to ensure that no signs of my presence would be left behind. By the time I got away and to a place where I could be seen without concern, enough time had elapsed that the fire would certainly attract the attention of those responsible for putting fires out.
The next day I listened to one of the local rabble-rousers. He talked about the fire at the Hell’s Angel clubhouse, remarking about the severity of the escalation that this represented. I took the chance to communicate under an assumed name and location, and I also assumed a false diction to my voice—if you ever imitated another in your hunt, you understand this misdirection—so that I would not be easily identified. Once I got to the man’s attention, I took the time to point out previous reports regarding the authorities’ wondering if a third party is involved and then I ridiculed the waste of time this was when “it seemed so obvious” that this was a straight-up gang war and that the authorities ought to do what they say they do and take them out.
Others communicating from afar took that as a cue to express great frustration with the way that the authorities handled the gang war, which the fire-bombing of the Hell’s Angels clubhouse made clear to them, and demanded the outright extermination of both sides. This outrage quickly became a roar of frenzied rage for order, and within hours any thought that anyone else was involved vaporized.