by Pat Riot
“So far it looks that way. I think Gloria from dayshift called out, but Kristine hasn’t asked me to hold over yet, maybe she asked Jason.” Rob worked twelve hour shifts but it wasn’t uncommon to be asked to hold over to assist with staffing. Like most dispatch centers across the country, they suffered from chronic staffing issues. As much as he wanted to be home with his wife and son, they could also use the extra money, so he usually held over a couple times a week.
“Okay no worries,” Monica said.
“What do you think about going to the beach on Wednesday?” Rob asked his wife.
Her eyes lit up. She loved the beach even more than Rob did. “Since when have I ever turned down the beach?” she asked the rhetorical question with a smile. “We just have to be back by five. I have class that night.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Rob said while mentally kicking himself for forgetting his wife’s schedule. “We can leave for the beach early and come back early in the afternoon. Be home around two or so.”
“Sounds like a perfect day to me.”
“Yeah me too. And we’ll go to that place for fish tacos on the way home.”
“Yes!” He could tell Monica was excited now. "Okay babe, I’m going to go so I can get some studying done. Text me when you are on the way home, I’d hate to accidently shoot my husband thinking he was an intruder,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“HA! Accidently my butt,” he said sarcastically. Damn, I love that smile. “Get some rest babe, I’ll see you in the morning, I love you more than anything. Give Jack a kiss goodnight for me.”
“Okay Robby, drive home safe, love you too.” She blew Rob a kiss prior to ending the video feed.
He checked his watch again. 8:36 pm. He had enough time to walk around the building a couple times. At some point in the past someone took the time to measure out the perimeter of the property the dispatch building was on and found that if one was to walk around it three times they had walked just under a mile. There was now a small walking trail that circled the property, made by numerous dispatchers walking numerous miles along the same path since the location was built. The path followed the back edge of the parking lot to the north side of the building where the agency’s fleet services operated. This office of fleet services was where all the extra electronics, such as the radios and lightbars, were installed on new units and repaired when they broke on older units. Once the trail exited the back parking lot, where several dozen police units were parked waiting for service it, continued following the large fence, circling around until it met up with the parking lot at the front of the building. From there it went through the front parking lot and through a large grass area with several mature trees before swinging back around to the rear of the building and into the rear parking lot.
Rob was white, twenty-nine years old, five feet eleven inches, with brown eyes and a bald head he shaved almost daily; his thinking being once the hair starts going why not just help it along? He did his best to move around on his breaks, not so much to keep in shape, but to get his muscles moving and blood flowing. As a dispatcher, since his agency didn’t utilize wireless headsets, he was literally tethered to his console while he was working and couldn’t move around much during his shift, except for the short breaks he was able to take if nothing major was happening. He did make use of the gym that was set up in the building a few times a week to lift weights, but he hated doing cardio, which is why he was packing a few extra pounds. Last time he stepped on a scale he was pushing 200 pounds. He would much rather hike in the local hills around Yucaipa, the city he lived in, but didn’t have much time for that lately with a newborn at home.
Rob passed the halfway mark on the walking trail and as he enjoyed the brisk night with stars in the clear sky his thoughts wandered to his extended family. Both his parents, one of his two brothers, and his sister all moved to Arizona a few years prior. They loved California but could no longer stomach the politics and how the state seemed to make things easier for criminals every time the politicians voted new laws into place. Between the gun control laws and criminal reform laws that were supposed to help reduce crime, but instead had the opposite effect, his family moved out of state and regularly encouraged Rob and his brother who still lived there to move to Arizona as well. I wonder if Matt is working tonight? Matthew was Rob’s brother who still lived in California. He was single with no kids and lived in a small apartment not too far from Rob’s house in Yucaipa. Because they were the last ones in the state, they were very close, and Matt was a great uncle to Jackson. Matt was also a police officer for the city of Redlands and worked crazy shifts and hours just like Rob did.
Rob made his lap around the property and marveled at all the upgrades that had been made to the aging building in the last few years. A little over a year after September 11, 2001 the Department of Homeland Security was created. One of the assignments they were tasked with was figuring out which public safety sites across the United States were considered high risk to terrorist attack and critical to assisting responding agencies in the event of an attack or natural disaster, then upgrading the security of that site. As the largest and main PSAP and radio dispatch facility in the county, the center was designated as high risk and critical for disaster response. DHS decided that the communications center needed to be hardened against a conventional terror attack and upgraded to withstand long term power outages. If this center was taken offline it would severely impede the ability of agencies to receive information from the public via 9-1-1 and to dispatch responding resources to a major disaster in the area. As such, DHS awarded grants to the agency to install what the employees took to calling the “Jurassic Park” fence that now encompassed the entire property. Prior to the upgrade the fence was simple chain link that only covered the rear parking lot, leaving the front half the of building exposed to anyone that approached. Someone would have to be in a tank if they had any hope of getting through this twelve-foot high fence, Rob thought. In addition to the fence, the old generator that would provide emergency power to the facility was replaced with a much larger one that doubled its power output. This would allow the center to still receive calls and utilize the radio and computer aided dispatch systems even during a prolonged power outage. All they would need to do was keep the fuel tank supplied with diesel.
As Rob walked back towards the large cinder block building he debated getting something to eat but decided to let Jason take a break and get coffee prior to taking care of his own hunger. Using his key-card to access the building through the rear door he re-entered the climate-controlled facility and made his way to the dimly lit PSAP room. This part of the center was larger than the radio side, housing twenty-seven consoles capable of receiving the one million plus 9-1-1 and other phone calls made annually by anyone within the agency’s jurisdiction. The consoles here were set up the same as the radio side, three consoles to a pod, but with nine pods total instead of the five in the radio room, with TV’s and the same system monitoring panel and monitor mounted on the walls.
“Hey Jason, how’s it going in here?” Rob asked his colleague.
“Pretty good, not as busy as last night. Green Giant just called in,” Jason said with a grin.
“No shit?” Rob laughed. “I haven’t talked to him in quite a while.”
“Apparently he’s watching over northwest for us tonight.”
“He ain’t doing a very good job, he never showed up to Charlie-14’s boxing match,” Rob continued to laugh. Green Giant was someone who called in several times a week, always a few hours after sunset. While he had mental issues he was harmless, mentally living in an alternate reality where he believed he was a super hero known as Green Giant who assisted local law enforcement during the nighttime hours. The officers that knew him all said he was a nice guy who didn’t create any problems, and since his once a night calls into dispatch were always short and harmless Rob didn’t mind Green Giant calling in as he always caused amusement amongst the dispatchers. Unlike som
e of their other regulars who were regularly verbally abusive and did nothing more than tie up emergency lines.
“Yeah, I guess not,” Jason said, then changed subjects. “I’m glad Charlie-14 is okay. I was listening in. I hope that dirt bag got what he deserved.”
“Yeah no kidding.”
Jason suddenly turned serious. “Hey, did you see that alert that came through on the fax?” he asked as he pulled a single sheet of paper from under his keyboard.
“No,” Rob responded as he reached for the alert. “When did it come in?”
“About thirty minutes ago,” Jason said. “It’s not one I’ve ever seen before and I’m not sure what to make of it,” Jason continued as he handed the fax to Rob.
As a public safety communications center, they received all types of alerts throughout the day, usually courtesy of the ancient technology of a fax machine, and sometimes through the state CLETS, or California Law Enforcement Telecommunications System, or the federal NLETS, or National Law Enforcement Telecommunications System. Usually the alerts were things like severe weather alerts issued by the National Weather Service, but also included Amber alerts, and any potential officer and public safety alerts issued by other local, state and federal agencies.
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Space Weather Message Code: ALTK04
Serial Number: 2094
Issue Time: 2019 Mar 25 0510 UTC
ALERT: Geomagnetic K-index of 9
Threshold Reached: 2019 Mar 25 0759 UTC
Synoptic Period: 0700-1000 UTC
Active Warning: Yes
Major solar storm activity has been detected. Possible radio, telecommunication, and GPS interruptions. Be prepared for minor to moderate power grid fluctuations.
Potential Impacts: Area of impact primarily north of 15 degrees Geomagnetic Latitude.
Induced Currents - Major power grid fluctuations can occur.
Aurora - Aurora may be visible at low latitudes covering much of North America.
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“I’ve seen this type of alert a couple times, but normally we receive it something like twenty-four to thirty-six hours before the event is supposed to affect us, not two hours. And I’ve never seen it say major solar storm like that. I think normally is says ‘Solar Activity has been detected,’ or something like that,” Rob said as he contemplated the message. It gave him pause, but he didn’t voice his concern as he wasn’t exactly sure why the fax made him feel uneasy. “The couple times I’ve seen it nothing has happened, but I’ll let you know if the radios start going down the toilet. Go take your break, I’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Okay cool, I’ll let you know when I’m back,” Jason said as he got up from his console.
As Rob made his way back over to radio he couldn’t shake the bad feeling the alert had given him. Even though he kept running it through his head he couldn’t figure out why it gave him an ominous feeling. When he walked into the radio room Kristine waved him over to her office. “Hey, you know who Charlie-14 is?” she asked as Rob walked through the doorway.
“No, I didn’t bother to check.”
“It’s Sam Gutierrez.”
“Really? Who would want to fight him? He’s like a mini version of The Hulk.” Officer Sam Gutierrez was well known throughout the department. He spent at least one hour, and usually two or three, per day six days a week in the gym. He was only average height at five-six but very powerfully built. His arms were thicker than most guy’s thighs and he prided himself as a boxer. Only someone truly desperate would decide to fight with him, and even then, they still had to know they were going to lose. There were several incidents in which Officer Gutierrez took down suspects who were at least six inches taller and outweighed him by fifty to one hundred pounds without breaking a sweat.
“Apparently the dirt bag is a PAL,” Kristine said, using the acronym for Parolee at Large, someone who had violated the terms of their parole and were considered a fugitive. “He had a gun in his back pocket too. Gutierrez broke the guy’s nose. And after they had him detained the guy’s girlfriend came out of the house bleeding from her head saying he beat her down too.”
“Wow,” stated Rob. “I’m glad Gutierrez is okay. That guy is lucky he didn’t get shot”. To himself he thought, no wonder the guy fought, parolee at large with a gun in his pocket having just beat up his girlfriend, he’s definitely going back to prison. At least I hope, never know with the jacked-up justice system in California. It was a huge relief to hear Gutierrez was fine. Rob only knew him in passing, meeting him only a couple times, so Rob didn’t really know him personally, however like all Law Enforcement, there was a bond that came as a result of their shared responsibility of public safety.
“Yeah seriously,” responded Kristine while shaking her head before changing the conversation. “Hey, are you done with that schedule yet?”
“Almost, another hour maybe.”
“Okay, just forward it to me and the front office when you’re done. They said they want to be included in that stuff. I’m not sure why, but we just do what we’re told, right? Also, I’m leaving for the night, I’ll be back tomorrow at 0800 hours for that budget meeting with the brass.” Kristine shook her head and rolled her eyes when she mentioned the budget meeting.
“Better you than me,” Rob said with a smile. The budget meetings were usually very tedious, with all the division heads crying wolf over perceived lack of funding and begging for extra money to be set aside for projects they always deemed critical to the agency, even though to Rob the special projects almost always sounded like a ridiculous waste of resources.
“I’ll be sure to get you assigned to it for next year then. Now get outta my office.” Kristine had a serious look, but Rob knew she was joking with him.
“Yes ma’am,” he said with sarcasm. “Have a good night, I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“You too,” she replied, finally smiling.
He left Kristine’s office and went back to his console to finish the schedule. When he sat down Rob started thinking about what occurred earlier with Officer Gutierrez and that led to thoughts of the single most traumatic incident he had been a part of as a dispatcher.
He was assigned to work the radio channel for the central division of the county. It was late, after 10:00 pm, and there was not much going on that Tuesday night. Even for a weekday night it was quieter than normal. Rob received a call on his CAD screen for a noise complaint about someone sitting in a car in their own driveway playing loud music from the car radio. Rob assigned the call to the officer working that beat and due to nothing else going on the response time was less than ten minutes. After going on scene, the officer requested a unit to back him up due to an uncooperative subject and several family members coming out of the house. Several more officers responded but the closest one was about ten minutes away. A few minutes later the officer that was on scene keyed up his radio, but the only thing Rob could hear was what sounded like a struggle. Rob told the officer he couldn’t copy the radio traffic and asked him to repeat it. The officer keyed up again and this time Rob could hear someone scream in the background. Numerous units responded code-3 but because the neighborhood was in a semi-rural area the first backup officer didn’t arrive for almost eight minutes. During that time the radio belonging to the officer on scene kept keying up with sounds of a struggle and people screaming and yelling coming through.
When the first backing officer arrived, he transmitted the words no one in Law Enforcement ever wants to hear: officer down. In the next seventeen minutes over fifty additional officers from several different agencies arrived to assist. Later Rob would find out that when the initial officer arrived on scene he found a male inside the vehicle where the loud music was coming from. The male had been using a cocktail of different drugs and was not in his right mind and as the officer tried to speak to the male he got out of the vehic
le and tried to walk away. When the officer attempted to detain him, the male resisted, and the officer took him to the ground. This is when the male’s family came out of the house and jumped the officer. They beat the officer for several minutes before retreating into the house, taking the now unconscious officer’s gun from his duty belt and leaving him lying on the ground in the driveway.
The officer was transported via helicopter to the closest trauma center where he held on for two more hours, enough time for his wife to be picked up and driven there by one of his partners so she could say goodbye, before succumbing to the massive head injuries he had been subjected to. It took a SWAT team six hours to convince the suspects to surrender. When it was all said and done five family members were charged with murder of a peace officer, but more importantly a wife was left without her husband, two children were left without their father, and a department was left without their brother. That night would be seared into Rob’s memory for the rest of his life and it was something he would never truly get over, even after taking a week off and several sessions with the agency’s psychiatrist. He used that night as an example to newer dispatchers to never become complacent in their jobs. Something as simple as a loud music call could result in the death of an officer.
Fifteen minutes later Jason walked in holding a spill proof tumbler full of coffee. “Hey thanks for covering, there’s more coffee in there if you want it, I made plenty,” he said to Rob.