Free The Last Undercover by Bob Hamer Page A

the cap would make me easily identifiable should I get lost in a crowd. Once Robert delivered the drugs I was to don the cap, signaling the arrest team that I had possession of the narcotics.
    I looked up from my lobby seat and my chest froze with apprehension when I saw Robert heading toward the hotel with Rick, the bail bondsman at his side. If they came in together and Rick saw me, I was a dead man and Robert would still be on the streets.

7
    THE COURTROOM CRAPSHOOT
    I jumped from my seat and headed toward the rear entrance of the lobby. I grabbed the Pirates cap and stuck it on my head, hoping to break up my silhouette, should Robert or Rick see me. A transmitter was taped to my ankle, and as I ran out the back, hopping on one foot, I was shouting into my ankle, “The hat’s not the signal. The hat’s not the signal.” If the moment could have been captured on camera it would probably have the makings of comedy—but at the time I was anything but amused.
    As soon as I got to my undercover car, I alerted the arrest team that Robert had brought Rick with him and that Rick knew me to be an FBI agent. Within seconds the operation order changed. I sat in the car, trying to come up with an alternate plan. Soon I observed Robert—alone—in the parking lot, looking for me. I signaled to him and he came over to the vehicle.
    He invited me inside to meet his friend. I repeated my earlier warning that if he brought in another person, I would back out. He tried to assure me that his supplier was honorable and that it would be good to meet him so I could do business directly with him in the future. I repeated my threats to withdraw from the transaction. He appreciated my caution but was also trying to placate Rick, who wanted to meet me.
    Since I was insistent on not meeting Rick, however, Robert needed to return to Rick to discuss how the deal would happen. I showed Robert the money, assuring him I was capable of making the four-ounce purchase. He returned to the hotel lobby to tell Rick I had the money and to modify Rick’s predetermined delivery plans.
    Inside the hotel, the backup team observed Robert and Rick talking. When Robert left the lobby to return to my car, a third person entered the lobby and met with Rick.
    Robert instructed me to follow him and said the deal would now happen in a restaurant next door to the hotel. I exited the undercover car and followed Robert. My Pirates cap was pulled down low and I feigned the same limp I had been using throughout our meetings. As Robert and I walked toward the restaurant, Rick and his associate followed a few feet behind. When I questioned Robert, he acknowledged that the two men shadowing us were his associates. And then, as I turned the corner heading into the restaurant, I heard the distinct and unwelcome sound of a shotgun racking.
    I feared the worst, thinking this was a rip, until I heard a familiar voice holler, “Freeze, FBI!”
    The on-site administrator had given the arrest order. My transmitter had been working only intermittently and the arrest team had no idea what was happening. All they knew was that I was walking with thirty-two thousand dollars to an unknown location out of their sight and outside the parameters of the operations order. Fearing a robbery or worse, the arrest order went out.
    Hearing the rack of the shotgun and realizing the FBI had made an arrest, I quickly drew my revolver, hidden under my shirt. I had Robert prone on the ground, waiting for somebody from the arrest team to round the corner, since I had no handcuffs. One of my colleagues cuffed Robert, and a frisk revealed he was not holding the heroin. I returned to the other two who were in custody. Rick loudly maintained his innocence, incredulous that he had been arrested. The third person, who had been meeting with Rick in the lobby, was carrying a folded newspaper. Inside the newspaper was evidentiary gold—four ounces of uncut heroin.
    Three people, including the acting head of