Undercover in the 80's

[Joe in PNG]

Sixty Miles of Border.

https://www.amazon.com/Sixty-Miles-B...7532031&sr=8-3


The worst thing about it is that it makes me jealous of things I never got to do in a time that was probably pretty awesome to work in.

The good is it’s interesting and actually pretty funny.

Thanks- I'll give it a read.

[TheNewbie]

Thanks- I'll give it a read.

If you do, please let me know if you enjoy it. Recommending it, I hope you do!

[SouthNarc]

The covert transmitters of the 80s and 90s sucked. Most legit U/Cs still wore old school brick half-watt body wires with external mics and antennas. The trick was taping up in such a way that you could lift your shirt and show skin if someone wanted to do the pat down bullshit and call them a queer for wanting to touch you. Smoke and mirrors and it worked well if you could socially engineer it.

I can remember wearing a gun, a body wire, a Nagra, a Sony clamshell 8mm video recorder, a board cam sewn into my shirt, a mic for the clamshell, and power sources for all of it. It fucking blew.

[SouthNarc]

The old hat bug that used the polaroid camera type batteries actually worked well for sliding into a wallet. I used one on an Asian bath-house/steam-and-cream/prostitution gig where I got naked, folded all my clothes up and placed my wallet right on top of the folded clothes to capture center of conversation. Amazingly clear audio. And thank God those whores plead because I REALLY didn't want that audio played in court.

[lwt16]

When we ran reverse prostitution/John details, the girl cops would have a large can of soda that was actually the recording device. Pretty effective. That and they were dressed accordingly.

We told them not to smile much as that would expose that their teeth were healthy and numerous, thus giving them away as 5-0.

We had a female Lieutenant that told the four female officers to "not be too put together". She even said that they might want to skip hair washing, make up, etc. Even before the detail I said that was going to be a huge fail. These four showed up like they were going clubbing; perfect makeup, hair doos, clothing way too clean, and a couple had tatts that were obviously quality ink at a price point the hookers in my zone can't afford.

We had one though that showed up dressed the part. Greasy hair, no face paint at all, Newport hanging from her lip, ripped/dirty blouse, etc. I took one look at her at the pre-brief and said "Oh crap, we are going to run out of handcuffs and transport vehicles. "

Sure enough, she slayed them.

Regards.

[blues]

The covert transmitters of the 80s and 90s sucked. Most legit U/Cs still wore old school brick half-watt body wires with external mics and antennas. The trick was taping up in such a way that you could lift your shirt and show skin if someone wanted to do the pat down bullshit and call them a queer for wanting to touch you. Smoke and mirrors and it worked well if you could socially engineer it.

I can remember wearing a gun, a body wire, a Nagra, a Sony clamshell 8mm video recorder, a board cam sewn into my shirt, a mic for the clamshell, and power sources for all of it. It fucking blew.

The old hat bug that used the polaroid camera type batteries actually worked well for sliding into a wallet. I used one on an Asian bath-house/steam-and-cream/prostitution gig where I got naked, folded all my clothes up and placed my wallet right on top of the folded clothes to capture center of conversation. Amazingly clear audio. And thank God those whores plead because I REALLY didn't want that audio played in court.

LOL, Craig. It certainly did suck. I was sitting around the table with a bunch of wiseguys and their reps when they got the brilliant idea of having me strip.
I started to undo my shirt and while doing so had my thumb over the mic and told them, "If I'm getting undressed, all you hairy fat motherfuckers are getting undressed with me" at which point they looked at each other, mumbled and said they were just busting balls. My heart was pounding, I can tell you.


Never did a UC in a brothel, damn my luck...but it was the first raid I ever did only a few days into the job. It was in a building in lower Manhattan and it was run by one or another Chinese gang at the time.

Building was secured so I had to climb a fire escape on a building next door, jump from one roof to the other, go down a fire escape, go in a window and knock down a door with the supervisor who came over from NYPD to our outfit.

I was like a kid in a candy store, I had so much fun I'd have done the job for free.

On the way out, the "madam" patted me on the ass and told me to come back. My chest puffed out another couple inches on the way down the stairs.

I wished every day would be like that.

[TC215]

The covert transmitters of the 80s and 90s sucked. Most legit U/Cs still wore old school brick half-watt body wires with external mics and antennas. The trick was taping up in such a way that you could lift your shirt and show skin if someone wanted to do the pat down bullshit and call them a queer for wanting to touch you. Smoke and mirrors and it worked well if you could socially engineer it.

I can remember wearing a gun, a body wire, a Nagra, a Sony clamshell 8mm video recorder, a board cam sewn into my shirt, a mic for the clamshell, and power sources for all of it. It fucking blew.

It was always fun whenever a CS would go mobile with a bad guy (after being told not to), and you'd have to start chasing the signal from the transmitter trying to find your CS. With today's technology that's a non-issue.

[blues]

It was always fun whenever a CS would go mobile with a bad guy (after being told not to), and you'd have to start chasing the signal from the transmitter trying to find your CS. With today's technology that's a non-issue.

When I was working in strip clubs run by mob and motorcycle gangs, I'd occasionally get certain offers which I had to come up with an excuse to decline.

I'd go into the john and whisper into the mic that I got an offer I couldn't refuse and I was going to flush the kit.

I think I caused a few heart attacks with some of the older guys sitting outside doing surveillance.

Never jumped in a vehicle and went anywhere with any of the targets. That would have been grounds for an immediate stop and arrest.

[lwt16]

We had a slow day for calls for service one time and we kept having this problem hooker who wouldn't take "get off the curb" for an answer. She was working her normal street and causing the locals who couldn't afford to move after a life long mortgage chained them to that street and were too old to bother with moving to call all the time. My buddy and I came up with a hairbrained plan to grab one of the unmarked heaps we keep parked at the precinct forever and he would pull up on her and get her to solicit him. I was going to be the marked unit and once we got the heap Lumina to crank with some jumper cables (SOP violation #1) we headed back to her corner.

I asked him what he was going to do about the uniform he was wearing. He grabbed his raincoat that didn't have any PD markings and put it on, facing me with a ""there, I fixed it" look. I rolled my eyes and said that he was never going to get her to commit a crime as you could clearly see his gunbelt and gear printing badly. He said he could and since he typically coordinated the John details, I went along for the ride.

I parked out of sight and he turned his radio to a side channel (SOP violation #2) as he was still 10-8 available for calls. He said "If I get a call, raise me and tell me on side channel. I'll key up the entire time and let you hear the conversation. I'll run my body cam too that way we have evidence."

I was pretty skeptical that this hooker was going to fall for any of this. But whatever, it was a slow day and I was curious.

So he pulls up to her and she practically jumps in the car. I had binoculars and was sort of shocked how quick she did so and thought "aw crap, wonder if she's jacking him for that heap Lumina? How are we going to explain him getting stabbed or me having to shoot her thorough the windshield when this goes to crap and she has him hostage with a straight razor to his throat? "

Radio lights up:

Hooker: "You a cop? Grab my #&#y so I know you're not a cop."
Him: "F that...I'm not grabbing your nasty ##&*y....you slinging that stuff everywhere. Get out of my Lumina!"
Hooker: "You got any bars? I'll suck your &^#$ for a bar. Or Oxy
Him: "You know that's illegal, right? It's called prostitution and that's illegal here."
Hooker: "You got twenty dollars? I'll do it for 20 bucks."
Him: "I ain't got no money, my wife gets it all."
Hooker: "How about cigarettes? I'll do it for a pack of smokes."

She never noticed him pull over to where I was parked while she was negotiating. I get out and ask her who's driving the car.

"He's my brother."

Me: "what's his name?"

Hooker turns to partner: "Hey what's your name? "

He's holding handcuffs and cuffs her.

Pretty sure she plead guilty. The constant calls stopped, the Captain was happy, and I had to buy his lunch. He was a cheap date though as a Grapico and a bag of Ranch Doritos was his typical meal.

Regards.

[Coyotesfan97]

Thanks- I'll give it a read.

I ordered a copy from Abe’s Books.