Free Justifiable Homicide: A Political Thriller (Robert Paige Thrillers Book 1) by Robert W. McGee

back as best she could, but she had trouble restraining him. Santos noticed, got up from his chair and walked toward them, briskly.
    Santos grabbed him by the left arm and slammed him into the wall. He shouted, “You can’t go in there! That’s a restricted area!”
    James resisted by raising his left arm. He broke the hold Santos had on him, accidentally slapping Santos in the face. Santos responded by slamming his right fist into his ribs, followed by a left to his face. The force of the second blow caused James’s head to fly back. He hit the wall with a thud. Blood spurted from his nose as he slid to the floor.
    The other passengers in the line gasped, unable to believe what they had just witnessed. Several of them took out their cell phones to record the event.
    Santos could see that James no longer posed a threat, but he didn’t stop. He kicked him, once to the face, then to the ribs. He could feel several of them break as his foot connected.
    “You dumb fuck! I told you to stop!”
    The other TSA agents watched as the event unfolded. Two of the male agents ran toward Santos and grabbed him before he could do any more damage. They eventually were able to restrain him. One agent handcuffed James. Santos and another agent lifted him up, causing his broken ribs to jab him in the side. He let out a scream. They led him away, dragging him past the line of passengers. He bled profusely from the face.
    One of the passengers standing in line took a close-up photo of his bloody face and bulging eyes as the TSA agents dragged him past the line of gasping onlookers.
    The two female TSA agents had stopped what they were doing to watch the altercation. His mother couldn’t see what was going on, but she could hear the commotion. She tried to turn around to see, but the wheelchair pointed in the opposite direction.
    The larger of the two female agents grabbed the wheelchair handles, rushed her into the screening room and closed the doors behind her. As the door closed, passengers could hear her screaming – “James! James! … Get your hands off me!”

19
    The Olive Garden
     
    “Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? … I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
    Patrick Henry
     
    “Robert, did you hear what happened at the airport yesterday?” Sveta and Paige just sat down for lunch at the Olive Garden restaurant on Biscayne Boulevard and 181st Street in Aventura, a north eastern suburb of Miami. They liked eating there because of the salad and because of its closeness to her office. Michelle, their favorite waitress, placed the salad and bread on the table and left.
    “Yes, I couldn’t help it. The photo someone took of him being dragged away with a bloodied face made the front page of the Miami Herald . Did you see the pain on his face?”
    “Yes. And someone took a video and posted it on the internet. I saw the whole thing on YouTube this morning. I heard it went viral.”
    Sveta took a sip of her ice tea. “I think it was terrible what they did to that man. Did you see it when that TSA agent kicked him in the face and the ribs? That’s something they would do in Russia, but not in America.”
    “Yes. I heard the FBI questioned the person who took that photo of his bloody face. They’re trying to decide whether to charge him with a crime because it puts the government in a bad light.”
    “Why would they go after him? All he did was take a photo.”
    “Yes, but publishing it makes it look like the government is more of a threat than the terrorists. It weakens their argument that no cost is too great to fight the war on terrorism.
    The newscaster interviewed the TSA agent’s boss. He said the investigation has already been completed and that the agent had been acting properly, just following procedure. They’re going to prosecute the passenger for assault. The FBI is trying to get the YouTube video taken