Catch 420

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Introduction

Chapter 1: They say things happen in threes

Chapter 2: Surprise

Chapter 3: Interrogated

Chapter 4: Welcome to the Bay

Chapter 5: Being Transferred

Chapter 6: Adapting

Chapter 7: Bullpen Therapy

Chapter 8: New cellmate

Chapter 9: Con air

Chapter 10: Going through the Motions

Chapter 11: I'm Back

Chapter 12: A Familiar Face

Chapter 13: You have a Visitor

Chapter 14: Firsts for Everything

Chapter 15: Reflecting Back

Chapter 16: Bailing Out Before My Birthday

Chapter 17: Testing my Patience

Chapter 18: Free World

Chapter 19: My Day

Chapter 20: Figuring it Out

CHAPTER 21: Comfort Zone

Chapter 22: Reconnecting

Chapter 23: Complicated Circumstances

Chapter 24: Pre Trial

Chapter 25: Holding Back

Chapter 26: Unexpected Friend

Chapter 27: Mr. Cherney, Appointed Attorney

Chapter 28: Gaining Momentum

Chapter 29: Vunurable, And They Know It

Chapter 30: My Decision

Chapter 31: Las Vegas

Chapter 32: Mr. Cherney Finally Sees Me

CHAPTER 33: Birthday

Chapter 34: Turning Myself In

About The Author

Catch 420

Mikal Mkali

Copyright © 2024 Mikal Mkali

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-89061-761-3 (Hardcover)

ISBN 979-8-89061-760-6 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my mother, Elaine, who passed away the year before I got in trouble. She was a beautiful, loving, nurturing woman whom I will always hold close to my heart. I love you, Mom.

To my loyal companion and best friend, Sonny. He was always by my side through thick and thin. A true angel. He lost his front leg to cancer at the age of thirteen and lived till a week before his fifteenth birthday. He showed me the meaning of unconditional love, loyalty, heart, and strength. I can honestly say he made me a better person. I love you, Sonny.

And to my good friend Kurt. He was a true friend, with a selfless, loving, beautiful soul. No matter how this man was feeling, he always showed heart, loyalty, and compassion to anyone who ever crossed his path. I love ya, my friend.

Introduction

Lompoc, California

October 6, 2006

Click, clack! The sound of fluorescent lights being turned on. Wiping the sleep from my eyes as I adjust them, my ears are pierced by the voice of a correctional officer yelling through the dorm: Time to get up! I'm lying on the top bunk bed of an unfamiliar place. I get up and dress.

Afterward, I follow everyone out of the dorm to the chow hall.

The inmates form a line, and one by one, they receive their tray of food. Today's breakfast is runny oatmeal with two hardboiled eggs. I get my plastic tray, pour myself coffee into a brown plastic cup, and find myself a seat.

It's 6:00 a.m. Pacific Time, and this will be the norm for the next thirty-six weeks.

With no appetite from being stressed and no desire to eat what's on the tray sitting in front of me, I begin to slowly pick my eyes up to see the person sitting at the other end of this small circular table. Ironically enough, it's the main lawyer who was overseeing our case, Tony Serra.

Tony is a government activist who believes it's unconstitutional to pay taxes. Not only is he an activist, he's one helluva lawyer! He's represented many infamous political people, as well as gang leaders and famous individuals. So much so they made a movie about him. James Woods played Tony, and Robert Downey Jr. played his assistant. The movie is called True Believer.

Tony had been here in the Lompoc prison camp for three months now, serving out a nine-month sentence for tax evasion. My codefendants hired his law firm out of San Francisco, California, to fight our case. I was the only one with a public defender. Fortunately, Tony pulled me aside and said not to worry; he'll help me. And here we are! Sarcasm.

Watching Tony scoop the slop of oatmeal from his plate to his mouth, you can't help but notice how weathered this man is. Long gray hair with a balding crown. Yellow stained teeth with gaps from ones that have fallen out. An arched posture, which makes him seem like he walked with a cane. He was definitely a well-seasoned, seventy-two-year-old vet. But like the saying goes, you can't judge a book by its cover. He was still as sharp-minded and quick-witted as they came.

Still trying to process this farcical ordeal, I begin to play back how I got myself into this current situation, which is now my reality for the next twelve months. I tilt my head back, take a deep breath, and exhale. How did this happen? How did I get here?

Chapter 1

They say things happen in threes

In 2004, I got into an off-road vehicle accident. Puncturing my intestines and losing half my blood from internal bleeding, I barely survived. Just a few months later, right after my thirty-fifth birthday, my mother died from a drug overdose. Then I finally called it quits with my promiscuous girlfriend of twelve years. I was dealing with a lot of emotional turmoil at the time.

A few close friends of mine were living in Northern California—Mendocino County, weed country, also known as the Emerald Triangle. They knew I was going through a tough time, so they asked if I wanted to move there to clear my head and get away. I agreed and accepted the invite. Not only would I be able to get my mind right, I was also gonna be able to make some lucrative cash as well. So I went and saw a doctor to get my medical license so I could help with the marijuana operations. Then I packed my belongings, grabbed my dog, and off we went.

First thing on our agenda was to build a small cabin to have a place to eat and rest our heads. My partner Eben purchased some acres from our friend Wes. Wes was one of the first farmers to actually grow full sun plants. Before that, everyone hid them in the manzanita bushes.

The land Eben purchased was raw and needed to be tended to in order to grow our marijuana gardens. We started the build and clearing of the areas to grow in February. We finished the cabin, made flats, and put fencing around the perimeter of the gardens. We built pot cages and filled them with dirt, then set up water tanks and ran black plastic PVC pipe at least a couple of hundred yards down to the creek bed. We then placed a pump in the creek to pump the water up to fill the tanks. By May's first full moon, we were planted. It was all about maintaining the gardens after that.

There were four of us running the operation: Eben, Hector, Dee, and myself. Eben was the money guy, or, like we used to call him, the bank. Hector lived in a nearby town and would occasionally bring us food and supplies. Dee and I lived in the cabin. Our job was to maintain the day-to-day operations. We would both take turns leaving to go home and handle our bills.

A few years prior to Eben buying property from Wes, Wes's land partner came up missing. The last time anyone had heard or seen him was when he went up to see Wes and collect money owed to him. After that, they found his truck off the side of Highway 101 between Spyrock and his hometown Eureka, California. He was never seen again.

The brother of the missing partner was frustrated that his sibling was never found. He started pointing fingers and making accusations that led to Wes being a suspect. The brother had written to every law enforcement agency in the area. He was also going on the local radio stations sharing his theories and pleading his case. It was drawing negative attention and bad energy in every way.

We continued with our operations without letting any distractions detour us from our ultimate goal. In all honesty, we didn't give much thought to the energy that was being put out there. We were legal in the state of California, under Prop 215. We had nothing to do with any missing person, so why should we worry? Until the day it became too surreal!

Chapter 2

Surprise

Spyrock Mountain, Mendocino, California

August 29, 2005

7:00 a.m.

While most people around the US were waking up to Hurricane Katrina hitting the Gold Coast, I was beginning my morning duties by watering the gardens with my trusty companion, my dog Sonny. Sonny is a tan-colored pit bull–Labrador cross that was originally born on this mountain. My good friend Hector gifted him to me when he was eight weeks old. He absolutely loved mountain life, more so than I did, that's for sure.

It was a clear, crisp morning, and I was just beginning to water the first garden when in the near distance, I could hear the sound of a helicopter making its way closer to me. As the sound began to get louder, I continued to water. I was not too worried about it because I have my medical license to grow, and the only helicopters flying this close this time of year were camp (campaign against marijuana planting). I was told at worst they would destroy the gardens but wouldn't bother to arrest anyone, so I felt safe.

Before I could react, the helicopter was flying almost directly above me. Wait, not just any helicopter; it was a Black Hawk helicopter! The side door was wide open, and there was a man standing in the doorway. The plants at this time were huge, at least seven feet tall and six feet wide. I dropped the hose, grabbed my dog Sonny, and hid myself behind one of the plants until the copter flew away. Once the copter was out of sight, I ran back up to the cabin to grab my backpack.

I grabbed my backpack and got about thirty feet away from the cabin, standing next to the outhouse we had built a few months back. Watching overhead, I could see the Black Hawk circling the cabin. I froze! I didn't know what to do next. Before I could think, three unmarked white Mustangs pulled up to the cabin. The men jumped out of the vehicles holding assault rifles.

Locked and loaded, they surrounded the cabin with their backs facing me. Sonny on instinct charged the men. I started screaming frantically for him to come back before they could shoot him. It was seconds but felt like eternity before Sonny finally listened and ran back toward me.

We both then ran down the side of the mountain full speed. The mountain was so steep that I was doing somersaults before I landed back on my feet. The last twenty feet, I went down on one knee and slid into a creek bed. I then grabbed Sonny and found refuge under a huge boulder. The copter was trying to flush me out. They couldn't locate me under that big boulder in the creek bed. Sonny was growling intensely. I was trying to calm him and muzzle him at the same time. Shhh, I told him. My heart was beating out of my chest. I had blood running down my legs from sliding down the side of the mountain in shorts. My adrenaline was clouding my thinking process. What to do next?!

Once the Black Hawk flew away, I decided to make a run for it. If I could get across the meadow and down the hill, it would drop me into the eel river. Once there, I could seek shelter in an abandoned train tunnel that ran along the side of the river. What I did not anticipate was that the law enforcement was already all over the property. Sonny and I didn't get fifteen yards into the meadow before I heard the sound of guns being cocked back and loaded. Then a voice shouted out, Stop, or we'll shoot your dog! I instantly stopped in my tracks and slowly turned around to face them. They asked if I had a leash for my dog. I replied, Yes, in my backpack. They asked me to carefully take it out of the backpack and place it on Sonny. I did exactly what I was told. Once the leash was secured on my dog, I made my way toward them.

They escorted me back to Wes's cabin, which was at the bottom of the road, a short distance past the cabin I occupied. Once we got there, they handcuffed me and rummaged through my backpack. At this point, I was short of breath and words, and full of adrenaline and fear. The agent that was going through my backpack asked me if there was anything in the backpack I wanted on the discovery. Not thinking, I said no. That day, I lost a Gucci watch and a very expensive ring I was gifted a few months back, along with a bottle of cologne and a bottle of what I said was Viagra but were really blue dolphin ecstasy pills. Yes, the agents stole my belongings! It never showed up on my discovery.

They then took pictures of Sonny and myself from every angle. When finished, the agents led me to a truck to load me up in. At my request, and I thank God they honored it, they put Sonny in the cabin. They loaded me up in the truck, and we began to drive to the top of the mountain.

Right before we got to the top gate, they made a quick right onto a property owned by Larock. It had a deserted cabin we once occupied; now it's a rat resort. It was also known as the shit B cabin.

Larock was another friend all the boys on the hill knew. They had made Larock's property their hub. All sorts of law enforcement and unmarked cars were parked there. Another helicopter was dropping off bundles of unfinished freshly rooted marijuana plants onto the back of a flatbed truck.

They proceeded to take me out the truck and sat me on a chair with handcuffs and shackles. I was seated next to a friend from the mountain we called Mexican Dave. Dave was originally from Southern California. He helped Wes with his property.

There was also another stoner-looking White boy with sandy blond hair sitting next to Dave whom I had never seen before.

I asked Dave, What the fuck is going on here? How did you get here? He said, Well, they found me in the creek bed hiding out. They thought I was you and brought me here. A lady officer walked past us with a male Hispanic officer. The woman's face reminded me of the actress Scarlett Johansson. They talked to the agent in charge and asked if they could ask a few questions. The agent gave them a nod, and one by one, they called the guys over to interview them. First the White guy, then Mexican Dave. There was enough distance between Dave, the woman, and myself that I couldn't hear the conversation. As the agent interrogated Mexican Dave, the other agents surrounding a truck parked next to me began to talk. They were talking shit and cracking jokes about the raid. When one of them mentioned Fresno, California, my hometown, I began to hear and see things more clearly. I took notice of the uniforms they were wearing. Sheriffs, ATF agents, and federal marshals.

The federal marshals were from Fresno, California. Ear-hustling their conversation, I overheard them say, Do you realize how much money these growers make in a year? One of the marshals told the other marshals, Think of all the pussy these guys get! These sons of bitches get all kinds of trim! And me, an officer of the law? I get shit! Another one blurts out, We're stuck in Fresno while these guys are getting paid and laid! We're in the wrong business. They all started laughing.

When Mexican Dave was finished being interrogated, he sat back down next to me. I asked him what they said. He then leaned into me and said, They asked me what I was doing here. I told them I was housesitting for a friend. But I did hear them say they had a federal search warrant with your name on it.

What the fuck? I said. A federal search warrant, for what?

None of this was making any sense. I didn't feel like we were doing anything illegal. At least not to the point where the feds would be involved. They never called me for questioning. Instead, they sat me in the back seat of a police car and started their way down the front side of the mountain to the highway. We drove through the first town, Laytonville, to the next town, Willits, California.

Chapter 3

Interrogated

Once we arrived in Willits, they proceeded to the town's police station. Come to find out, the female agent was a district attorney. She and the Hispanic agent escorted me to a small room inside the station, where they began to ask me questions.

DA: How long have you known Eben Crossby?

Over twenty years, I said.

What does he do for a living?

He works at UPS.

What else does he do for money? she asked.

I said, He's on workman's comp for a work-related injury.

That's all he does? the DA said in a short, sarcastic tone.

I believe he's studying to take his real estate license.

The DA was starting to get impatient with me. I could hear the frustration in her voice. She slid a piece of paper in front of me. I glanced at it and read 15 to life. That's all my eyes focused on. She then began to say, You better start giving us information! You're looking at a lot of time.

I began to get angry, and before I could control myself I blurted out, Look, lady, do I look scared?! I stuck my hands out, palms facing down. Are my hands shaking?! No, I'm not! We have done nothing wrong! We are legal in the State of California! I have my medical license! Fuck you guys! I want a lawyer!

The Hispanic agent with a serious but intense poker face said, A good answer.

After all the interrogating and getting nowhere, they put me back into a police car and drove me to the next town, Ukiah, California. The police car pulled into a garage and parked. They took me out of the car, still handcuffed and shackled, and brought me into the station. After mug shots and fingerprints, they took off my restraints and pushed me into a holding cell. Once I was in the cell, I turned and saw my boy Hector! He was lying on the floor. I began to look around and saw five more unfamiliar faces occupying the cell with Hector and now myself.

The cell was freezing. All I had on was a sleeveless shirt and a pair of ripped shorts. I sat on the floor, put my knees to my chest, and pulled my shirt over my legs. Then I wrapped my arms around my legs to try to stay warm.

I then asked Hector, How long have you been here?

He said, Since about 1:00 p.m. today.

What happened? I asked.

Hector began to tell his story. I got a knock on the door around seven this morning. When I opened the door, I had guns pointed right at my face! The dogs started going crazy, so my wife grabbed the dogs and put them in the backyard. My daughter was sitting on the couch still half asleep, and my two-year-old son was crying. They read me my rights, handcuffed me in front of the kids, and began to search the house. After a while, the officers calmed down and became more civil with us. When they didn't find anything they were looking for, they cleared out the house, loaded me into a police car, and brought me here.

I then said, Looks like we're gonna need a lawyer, huh, Hector.

Without a doubt, he replied.

There was a pay phone in the cell, so I decided to call my ex-girlfriend. No answer.

Cold, hungry, and drained, I still couldn't get any rest. At 5:00 a.m., an officer opened up the cell.

De la Rosa, Mkali, you're being transferred to San Francisco. Gather yourself and follow me. Once we got out of the cell, the officer had us face the wall. He applied handcuffs around our wrists and shackles around our ankles. Then we were escorted to the garage and placed in the back of an unmarked white SUV. Hector said, I heard these guys gotta feed us.

Really? I