drive.
Yvette peered through her binoculars watching the South side of the apartment. Clicking the switch in her palm which activated the mike strapped around her neck she gave her update. "Angel two, all secure, no movement in the South windows." She listened as her counterpart on the North side, Bill Graves, checked in, "Angel one, still have acquisition on one subject, no other movement."
She had been sitting in this room for about three hours now, having snuck in the vacant apartment about midnight. At first the smell had been almost overpowering, the local bums liked to sneak into the empty rooms and sleep sometimes. Their sanitary habits left a lot to be desired too, they were constantly urinating in the corners and you had to be careful not to slip in any diarrheaic messes left behind. She expected no unwanted visitors tonight though, it was at least ninety degrees outside and in the stagnant air of her room it had to be at least ten degrees hotter.
Back as far into the shadows as she could get, she never failed to smile when she saw the TV snipers with their rifles hanging out the window. Pride always filled her when she thought of being the only Black female sniper at shoots and those S.W.A.T. conventions her Captain was always sending her to. It should too, the schools had been very difficult, taxing her body to the limits, there had been none of that relaxed standards for her because she was a woman, she had to belly crawl for 48 hours just like the men and remain hidden while experienced snipers searched for her with binoculars and spotting scopes. She had done well too, "killing" all her targets in the alloted time and avoiding detection, her trainers had remarked on the job she had done and praise from those guys was few and far between. As she sipped from her water bottle she thought about her counterpart on the other side. Bill was 36 years old and still bench-pressed over 600 pounds. He wasn't built like a typical sniper that was for sure, but he had learned his craft in the Army and was a bit smaller then. He had been in law enforcement for at least ten years and had distinguished himself several times over. "He's sure tight with the Captain", she thought, "And if half the stories I've heard are true I can imagine why." She knew they had been street partners for several years, before the agency she works for had a regular Tactical team set up. "Hell, they built this team, and I know the Captain went through ten feet of shit doing it." was her thought.
She was in a different situation from usual, normally she would work as a two man team, each taking turns observing and resting their eyes, but with some of the higher-ups not liking tactical teams in general and snipers in particular, they had to make do. She liked working alongside Bill, but she was also happy to be in this room on her own, she enjoyed the added responsibility and the pride from the trust the others had in her. On this night they were observing a person wanted for murder, the one Bill had in his view, they had been watching and taking notes in preparation for the team to make entry and make the arrest from the warrants. That was one thing she could never get through her Mother's head, she didn't just hide and kill people, although she had neautralized two targets on two seperate occasions, most of her job was to make sure the rest of the team knew what they were going into.
Bill looked at his watch, three a.m. right on the dot, Yvette had been a minute early, but he figured he would let her slide on that one. She had become a good student and an excellent sniper, he thought that she would never have made it when she was suggested as his protege, but his partner had hit the nail on the head with that one. At first he had given him a hard time about her, her first night had been an experience. She had proven herself already though he figured. She had two kills in her first year, both of them perfect head shots on people who needed to die anyway.
Bill didn't hold much stock for the politics of the job, when his partner thought up this agency and then got certain politicos to go along with it he was content to stay in the background and ferret out the applications from Officers they agreed on and then coordinate their advanced training. Dean could have the meetings with the politicians who had to be constantly placated and shown the effectiveness of their work, "He has the gift of gab and can talk people into most anything", had been what he had told his wife when the prospect for the job came up.
He leaned back for a second to wipe the sweat from his brow and change headbands, not because it was particularly bothersome, but it wouldn't pay to have a droplet of water on the lense of his scope as the team went through the door. Although he had removed his load bearing vest and extra equipment when he had set up in this room he was sweating heavily under his body armor. "Damn if I want to wear this thing." he thought. Wear it he would though, even though the odds of anybody even knowing his location were remote, Dean insisted that all Officers under his command wear their body armor anytime they were in uniform and sent into harm's way. "Besides, there was the off-the-wall chance that a crackhead or maybe a gang boy or two looking for a crackhead to beat up would try and come in this apartment, then he could have a little fun." was his solace in thought. He knew though that would be disastrous, one of the reasons he chose this particular apartment from the three that offered the proper vantage point was that it was the one used by the residents as a dumping hole for household garbage. He had to crawl over a four foot pile of dirty diapers, rotting food and God only knows what else to get to the stairs leading to the former master bedroom. He didn't figure even the nastiest bum would go through all that, especially on a sweltering night like this.
Dean sat in his office listening to Bill and Half-Baked check in. He knew the rest of his team was just outside in the ready room doing the same. They were in high spirits, cracking jokes as they went over their equipment one last time. He would have liked to have more observers at the scene, but this was the best he could do right now. He did have several uniform cars working the area, this had the effect of keeping their principle inside and any friends he might have weren't likely to be visiting when they might be likely to encounter a street Officer. He thought about having Yvette out there by herself briefly but not with any worry about her competence, he had hand-picked her for this duty and she had not let him down. Her first night had been an experience, both for him and Bill. He thought that Bill might take her by the neck in one of those meathooks he called hands and squeeze her until her eyeballs fell to the ground.
It had started innocently enough, she had come in to work the midnight shift with Bill and himself, she had spent the last ten months working days but had caught his eye when in a basic tactics class he gave she had been the only one to know that if a guy starts shooting at you as you drive up, you park the car on top of him. Everybody else had grand ideas of stopping and talking to him or returning fire, Yvette instinctively realized that the front bumper of a Crown Victoria was a much more effective response. With this thought in mind he had tossed her the keys to the Crown they were to use while his Jeep Cherokee was in the shop and told her to drive while Bill and a rookie he was training followed along. No sooner than she had adjusted the seat than they had the first call of the night which was reported as a rape in progress. The call was from a housing development on the South end of town so they had about nine miles to go. Dean reached over and flipped on the lights and siren and Yvette pulled out on the street. He had been reading a report about an apartment the detectives were wanting to make an entry on when he looked up and noticed their speed was only about 45 miles per hour. He irritatedly said "Yvette, make this car go!" and picked up the mike to talk to Bill on a side frequency. Twice more he urged her on, then went back to reading the report. He glanced in the side mirror to check on his partner and noticed they were nowhere to be seen, looking forward he saw the redlight fast approaching and calmly said, "Baker, watch this light." She rocketed through it at about ninety miles per hour as he began yelling at her to "Watch these damn lights!!" As Bill asked him where they were, she blew through the next light too. On the radio he thought he sounded calm when he gave the cross streets but in the car he was shouting at her to "Slow this damn car down!!" when she blew the third light. Finally she began to slow down, holding a steady sevent, still fast but this was a week night and the streets were all but deserted. He returned to his report only for a second and found himself flying towards the dash under her hard braking. Catching himself he yelled, "What the fuck was that for!?!" Her reply caught him off-guard, "There's a State Trooper right up there." In exasperation he said, "So!?!" "Well he might stop us and give us a ticket" she calmly replied. "Goddamnit Baker," now totally frustrated, "Are you completely out of your fucking mind? You're the Goddaman Police, now make this car roll!!"
The rest of the ride was noneventful, upon arriving at the scene it had proven to be nothing more than a typical boyfriend-girlfriend, he-said she-said argument. When they went back in service Bill told him that his rookie asked if they could stop at the store, so they agreed to meet up at another housing development in about thirty minutes and get out on foot patrol and see just what they could stir up. Heading back downtown he talked to Yvette about what he expected of her and the resources that were available and what was planned for the future. As they drove down the street he noticed two Memphis Police cars pulling away from the curb at the next intersection. The lead car hit his lights and busted the redlight and Dean said, "Watch that next MPD unit, he's gonna bust that light." She replied, "Well he doesn't have his lights on and I've got the right-of-way." In disbelief he shouted, "Baker, that MPD car is gonna bust that light!"
"Well he doesn't have his lights on."
"Baker that MPD car ain't stopping!!
"Well he doesn't have his lights on and I've got the right-of-way."
The MPD car slid sideways into the intersection, the Officer perplexed as to why a marked cruiser from another agency wasn't letting him bust this light when it was obvious he was on a call with the other car who had pulled away first.
After Dean had crawled out from his hiding place under the dash he asked her for the second time, "Baker are you completely out of your fucking mind?!?"
When Bill drove up he saw Dean in Baker's face giving her complete hell. At six foot one and 220 pounds of heavy muscle with the skills of an actor in presentation of his rather animated personality, not many people could express their opinion as well as he could, he had seen many rookies and several old-timers looking like they wanted to hide under a rock after making a mistake on the firing range. When he approached them and found the reason for his wrath, he had to ask Baker, "Are you completely out of your fucking mind?!?" Dean walked away at that point and let Bill take a crack at her. Yvette was undaunted though, simply replying, "But I had the right-of-way and he didn't have his lights on." Dean returned to their side and said, "Goddamnit Baker from this point on you're to be known as Half-Baked because I think you're half fucking crazy and the other half is just plain insane!" "But, you've got attitude, and I think that's something you just can't teach so consider yourself part of my crew."
A few minutes later an MPD car pulled up and the Officer who occasionally would work with the midnight crew from the Housing Police called over and said, "Hey Captain, you know who's driving car 106? That crazy sumbitch liked to killed me awhile ago."
"Naw, but I'll sure see if I can find out for you."
She had been sitting in this room for about three hours now, having snuck in the vacant apartment about midnight. At first the smell had been almost overpowering, the local bums liked to sneak into the empty rooms and sleep sometimes. Their sanitary habits left a lot to be desired too, they were constantly urinating in the corners and you had to be careful not to slip in any diarrheaic messes left behind. She expected no unwanted visitors tonight though, it was at least ninety degrees outside and in the stagnant air of her room it had to be at least ten degrees hotter.
Back as far into the shadows as she could get, she never failed to smile when she saw the TV snipers with their rifles hanging out the window. Pride always filled her when she thought of being the only Black female sniper at shoots and those S.W.A.T. conventions her Captain was always sending her to. It should too, the schools had been very difficult, taxing her body to the limits, there had been none of that relaxed standards for her because she was a woman, she had to belly crawl for 48 hours just like the men and remain hidden while experienced snipers searched for her with binoculars and spotting scopes. She had done well too, "killing" all her targets in the alloted time and avoiding detection, her trainers had remarked on the job she had done and praise from those guys was few and far between. As she sipped from her water bottle she thought about her counterpart on the other side. Bill was 36 years old and still bench-pressed over 600 pounds. He wasn't built like a typical sniper that was for sure, but he had learned his craft in the Army and was a bit smaller then. He had been in law enforcement for at least ten years and had distinguished himself several times over. "He's sure tight with the Captain", she thought, "And if half the stories I've heard are true I can imagine why." She knew they had been street partners for several years, before the agency she works for had a regular Tactical team set up. "Hell, they built this team, and I know the Captain went through ten feet of shit doing it." was her thought.
She was in a different situation from usual, normally she would work as a two man team, each taking turns observing and resting their eyes, but with some of the higher-ups not liking tactical teams in general and snipers in particular, they had to make do. She liked working alongside Bill, but she was also happy to be in this room on her own, she enjoyed the added responsibility and the pride from the trust the others had in her. On this night they were observing a person wanted for murder, the one Bill had in his view, they had been watching and taking notes in preparation for the team to make entry and make the arrest from the warrants. That was one thing she could never get through her Mother's head, she didn't just hide and kill people, although she had neautralized two targets on two seperate occasions, most of her job was to make sure the rest of the team knew what they were going into.
Bill looked at his watch, three a.m. right on the dot, Yvette had been a minute early, but he figured he would let her slide on that one. She had become a good student and an excellent sniper, he thought that she would never have made it when she was suggested as his protege, but his partner had hit the nail on the head with that one. At first he had given him a hard time about her, her first night had been an experience. She had proven herself already though he figured. She had two kills in her first year, both of them perfect head shots on people who needed to die anyway.
Bill didn't hold much stock for the politics of the job, when his partner thought up this agency and then got certain politicos to go along with it he was content to stay in the background and ferret out the applications from Officers they agreed on and then coordinate their advanced training. Dean could have the meetings with the politicians who had to be constantly placated and shown the effectiveness of their work, "He has the gift of gab and can talk people into most anything", had been what he had told his wife when the prospect for the job came up.
He leaned back for a second to wipe the sweat from his brow and change headbands, not because it was particularly bothersome, but it wouldn't pay to have a droplet of water on the lense of his scope as the team went through the door. Although he had removed his load bearing vest and extra equipment when he had set up in this room he was sweating heavily under his body armor. "Damn if I want to wear this thing." he thought. Wear it he would though, even though the odds of anybody even knowing his location were remote, Dean insisted that all Officers under his command wear their body armor anytime they were in uniform and sent into harm's way. "Besides, there was the off-the-wall chance that a crackhead or maybe a gang boy or two looking for a crackhead to beat up would try and come in this apartment, then he could have a little fun." was his solace in thought. He knew though that would be disastrous, one of the reasons he chose this particular apartment from the three that offered the proper vantage point was that it was the one used by the residents as a dumping hole for household garbage. He had to crawl over a four foot pile of dirty diapers, rotting food and God only knows what else to get to the stairs leading to the former master bedroom. He didn't figure even the nastiest bum would go through all that, especially on a sweltering night like this.
Dean sat in his office listening to Bill and Half-Baked check in. He knew the rest of his team was just outside in the ready room doing the same. They were in high spirits, cracking jokes as they went over their equipment one last time. He would have liked to have more observers at the scene, but this was the best he could do right now. He did have several uniform cars working the area, this had the effect of keeping their principle inside and any friends he might have weren't likely to be visiting when they might be likely to encounter a street Officer. He thought about having Yvette out there by herself briefly but not with any worry about her competence, he had hand-picked her for this duty and she had not let him down. Her first night had been an experience, both for him and Bill. He thought that Bill might take her by the neck in one of those meathooks he called hands and squeeze her until her eyeballs fell to the ground.
It had started innocently enough, she had come in to work the midnight shift with Bill and himself, she had spent the last ten months working days but had caught his eye when in a basic tactics class he gave she had been the only one to know that if a guy starts shooting at you as you drive up, you park the car on top of him. Everybody else had grand ideas of stopping and talking to him or returning fire, Yvette instinctively realized that the front bumper of a Crown Victoria was a much more effective response. With this thought in mind he had tossed her the keys to the Crown they were to use while his Jeep Cherokee was in the shop and told her to drive while Bill and a rookie he was training followed along. No sooner than she had adjusted the seat than they had the first call of the night which was reported as a rape in progress. The call was from a housing development on the South end of town so they had about nine miles to go. Dean reached over and flipped on the lights and siren and Yvette pulled out on the street. He had been reading a report about an apartment the detectives were wanting to make an entry on when he looked up and noticed their speed was only about 45 miles per hour. He irritatedly said "Yvette, make this car go!" and picked up the mike to talk to Bill on a side frequency. Twice more he urged her on, then went back to reading the report. He glanced in the side mirror to check on his partner and noticed they were nowhere to be seen, looking forward he saw the redlight fast approaching and calmly said, "Baker, watch this light." She rocketed through it at about ninety miles per hour as he began yelling at her to "Watch these damn lights!!" As Bill asked him where they were, she blew through the next light too. On the radio he thought he sounded calm when he gave the cross streets but in the car he was shouting at her to "Slow this damn car down!!" when she blew the third light. Finally she began to slow down, holding a steady sevent, still fast but this was a week night and the streets were all but deserted. He returned to his report only for a second and found himself flying towards the dash under her hard braking. Catching himself he yelled, "What the fuck was that for!?!" Her reply caught him off-guard, "There's a State Trooper right up there." In exasperation he said, "So!?!" "Well he might stop us and give us a ticket" she calmly replied. "Goddamnit Baker," now totally frustrated, "Are you completely out of your fucking mind? You're the Goddaman Police, now make this car roll!!"
The rest of the ride was noneventful, upon arriving at the scene it had proven to be nothing more than a typical boyfriend-girlfriend, he-said she-said argument. When they went back in service Bill told him that his rookie asked if they could stop at the store, so they agreed to meet up at another housing development in about thirty minutes and get out on foot patrol and see just what they could stir up. Heading back downtown he talked to Yvette about what he expected of her and the resources that were available and what was planned for the future. As they drove down the street he noticed two Memphis Police cars pulling away from the curb at the next intersection. The lead car hit his lights and busted the redlight and Dean said, "Watch that next MPD unit, he's gonna bust that light." She replied, "Well he doesn't have his lights on and I've got the right-of-way." In disbelief he shouted, "Baker, that MPD car is gonna bust that light!"
"Well he doesn't have his lights on."
"Baker that MPD car ain't stopping!!
"Well he doesn't have his lights on and I've got the right-of-way."
The MPD car slid sideways into the intersection, the Officer perplexed as to why a marked cruiser from another agency wasn't letting him bust this light when it was obvious he was on a call with the other car who had pulled away first.
After Dean had crawled out from his hiding place under the dash he asked her for the second time, "Baker are you completely out of your fucking mind?!?"
When Bill drove up he saw Dean in Baker's face giving her complete hell. At six foot one and 220 pounds of heavy muscle with the skills of an actor in presentation of his rather animated personality, not many people could express their opinion as well as he could, he had seen many rookies and several old-timers looking like they wanted to hide under a rock after making a mistake on the firing range. When he approached them and found the reason for his wrath, he had to ask Baker, "Are you completely out of your fucking mind?!?" Dean walked away at that point and let Bill take a crack at her. Yvette was undaunted though, simply replying, "But I had the right-of-way and he didn't have his lights on." Dean returned to their side and said, "Goddamnit Baker from this point on you're to be known as Half-Baked because I think you're half fucking crazy and the other half is just plain insane!" "But, you've got attitude, and I think that's something you just can't teach so consider yourself part of my crew."
A few minutes later an MPD car pulled up and the Officer who occasionally would work with the midnight crew from the Housing Police called over and said, "Hey Captain, you know who's driving car 106? That crazy sumbitch liked to killed me awhile ago."
"Naw, but I'll sure see if I can find out for you."
posted by PK at 10:53 PM
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