Dog One

by Jim Riley

  I had been with the P.D. for well over a year by that time, and back on the SWAT team for several months, when an interesting event occurred. We didn’t have that many call-outs with the Logan County SWAT Team. We continued to practice religiously, even when not everyone could make it. Considering we didn’t get to use our skills in actual call-outs much, we managed to stay pretty sharp. I had carved my niche of setting up training scenarios that would test us as a team. Brett didn’t feel threatened by it, and it gave me a chance to push myself in coming up with ideas. We still weren’t the best around, but we could hold our own.

  One night Joe Shit the ragman came to Logan County. I call him that because we never did find out who he was. He had gotten on a bus in Chicago. Rode it all the way to Logan County where he got off with his green duffel bag, walked into the 7-Eleven across the street from the bus stop, pulled out a twelve-inch knife, and stabbed the clerk at the counter through the throat. Then he walked over to the cooler and got a six pack of Mountain Dew and left the store. He was halfway across the parking lot when all hell broke loose. The other clerk, who had been in the back stocking the cooler, came out and saw his buddy bleeding profusely from a large knife wound to the throat. He was almost dead, but the blood was still flowing. The second clerk called 911 and began shouting out the front door for someone to stop the murderer. There happened to be an officer in the area, and as luck would have it, he rolled up on the scene as the “man with a knife and the one man down at the 7-Eleven” call came over the air. He pulled his car to the edge of the parking lot and pulled his gun on the transient since he wasn’t sure what was going on or who was involved. On the way out of the store, the perp had put the knife into his backpack, which is probably the only reason the guy didn’t end up dead in the parking lot. The perp looked around like he didn’t know what was going on and casually walked back into the 7-Eleven. The cop didn’t shoot because he still wasn’t sure what was going on. He still didn’t know where the victim was or what the suspect looked like. The clerk had been trying to stop the bleeding from his coworker and didn’t notice the transient until he was standing over him with the knife now back in his hand. He crapped his pants. Literally.

  He began begging for his life as the transient picked him up by the hair and held him in front as a shield. By this time the cop was coming through the door of the 7-Eleven and realized his mistake. He had let the perp get back into the building where he now had a hostage. The cop did what cops do and pointed his gun at the pair. The transient, who still seemed somewhat casual about the whole thing, pulled the knife tighter against the clerk’s throat. The cop could see blood starting to run down the blade from a nice, fresh cut on the young man’s neck. The cop backed out, and we had a hostage situation.

  The SWAT team was paged, and we all responded to the local P.D. for a briefing. There was a perimeter already set up, so we took the time we needed to get our things in line. We were only about twenty seconds from the scene if it went bad, so we could respond quickly. Now we needed a plan.

  In normal SWAT incidents there are two plans. The first one is the emergency plan, which is laid out as soon as possible. If things break bad and you have to go even before you are ready or everyone has arrived, at least you’re not running blind. The second is the deliberate plan. Given time, that’s the one you use and continuously update with new information as the incident unfolds. A layout of the building was put up while we all got our gear on. Brett told us how the emergency plan would go if things went bad suddenly. In a nutshell, we’d haul ass to the scene, approach from behind the east side brick wall, throw a flashbang, then do a dynamic entry through the front door. That was only if the sniper, Danny Baker, didn’t have the shot. Danny was setting up as we briefed. I looked at the plan and thought it was the right one. But I still didn’t offer any comment. Even an acknowledgment would have been like me second-guessing Brett.

  After the whole team had arrived and we had finished suiting up, Brett began laying out the deliberate plan he’d come up with. That’s the plan that would go into effect if negotiations broke down and we were given the green light to do a planned tactical entry. Oftentimes, the deliberate plan and the emergency plan are very different. In this case they weren’t. The deliberate plan Brett laid out was almost identical, except that the team would split up and attack the front from both side walls, which offered concealment and cover right up to the front windows. I didn’t agree with this plan and thought we should try a stealthy entry through the back door with half the team. It was metal with no handle, but we had access to a plasma cutter that could take it off pretty quietly and effectively. Like almost all the other cops there, I had been in the back of that 7-Eleven before and knew the rear door would get us a concealed entry into the store, close to the hostage and bad guy. Put the other team coming through the front and you’ve got two opportunities of having a clear shot at the bad guy. It would have given the hostage a much better chance of not getting cut any further, or accidentally shot by one of us. But again, I didn’t offer my opinion. Brett was the leader and it was his decision.

  We had been on-scene and in place at the 7-Eleven for over two hours. As per our deliberate plan, half of the team was stacked on west side, designated Team One, and the other half was stacked on the east side, designated Team Two. Brett was leading Team One on the west side of the building and Travis Meach, the Assistant SWAT Team leader, was in charge of Team Two. I was first in the stack on Team Two. Travis was stacked the third man back, which was normal, as was Brett on his side. This puts the element leader close enough to the front to call the shots, and far enough back to get some perspective. I was in front because I was by far the best shot. My MP5 was ready but the safety was on. I wouldn’t take it off until we moved. It was such a natural thing for me I didn’t even think about it.

  “Sierra One, give me a sitrep and the mood of the HT.” It was Brett talking to Danny, the sniper, asking him for a situation report on what was going on in the store and specifically, what the Hostage Taker, or HT, was doing.

  “HT is still sitting against the back wall. He is in the aisle and in full view of the doors. He has the hostage in front of him, but the knife is hanging down and not at the throat. I repeat, not at the throat. Hostage and the HT seem to be talking. Mood is fairly calm. Pathway down the aisle is still clear of obstacles.”

  That had all been important information for Danny to relay. As a team that may have to enter any second, we had to be kept abreast of everything happening in there, even the seemingly insignificant things.

  The phone rang continuously until finally the HT got up. He had the clerk by the hair and they went to the phone. The HT wouldn’t talk and made the clerk talk to the negotiator. It’s hard for a negotiator to work his magic when the HT won’t talk to him. Kind of like whispering sweet nothings in your girl’s ear by way of someone else. Takes some of the magic out of it. I knew as well as I was standing there in the stack that this wasn’t going to go well. It was just a gut feeling, but I knew.

  The third-party negotiations went on for about another hour before the negotiator told the Scene Commander, which happened to be Sheriff Christman, that the man didn’t really seem interested in surrendering or even getting out alive. He just kept talking about his chariot picking him up soon. Great, Joe Shit the ragman was really Cinderella.

  The Commander, Toby, called to the Team Leader. “Command to Team Leader. You and your team have permission to execute the rescue.”

  Everyone’s muscles tightened and the adrenaline wanted to break free like a stallion after a mare in season. I held it back by breathing deep and consistent. I felt the urge subside, and I focused.

  “Roger that Command. Do we have permission for a sniper shot?”

  “Sierra, do you have a shot?” It was Toby asking Danny.

  “Negative. Too far from the window and too little of the target showing to take a shot.”

  “I guess that takes care of that.” It was Toby again, appa
rently talking to Brett.

  There was a moment of silence. Too long of a moment. It seemed wrong. Finally, Brett said, “Team Two, are you ready for a breach?”

  I was mentally kicking myself for not saying something. We should be going in the back. This was dangerous. Not for us, but for that clerk. Shit.

  “Team Two ready,” came the response from Team Two lead, Travis Meach.

  Say something, Dell.

  “Okay, Team One is ready.” Silence again. He was nervous and second-guessing.

  “Flashbangs on my count,” Brett ordered.

  The second man in each stack stepped slightly out of the stack with a flashbang in one hand and the pin in the other. Just as we trained, they would toss them on “two” as Brett counted backward. The one-and-a-half-to-two-second fuse would coincide with his command to “go,” which no one would hear because of the explosion.

  This plan was for shit. The bangs were too far away from the suspect and wouldn’t cause the needed effect. By the time we got to the door and breached it, we still had a long way to go to get to him or even get to where we had a shot. If we were lucky, he would give Danny a head shot. If we were lucky.

  “Five, four, three, two … ” The flashbangs rolled in front of the doors and went off almost simultaneously. We were moving at the sound of the bang. I was leading my team to the doors, but since the doors were much closer to Team One’s position, they got there first and had made entry before we were halfway there. That’s when things went bad. As I had figured, the suspect was not very affected by the bangs and had simply reacted as should have been expected. He put the knife to the clerk’s neck and pulled. He still hadn’t cut too deep, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell that from the way the clerk was screaming.

  The lead man in Brett’s team, Benny Singleton, had gone several feet into the room and had his MP5 trained on the HT, or at least what little he could see of him, but didn’t have the shot. The other men in the stack for the most part had stayed in position, which put the last man in their stack standing in the doorway. He was blocking us from even getting into the room. The HT had the knife cut into the man’s throat but had stopped pulling. Blood was flowing but it wasn’t terminal yet. The hostage was screaming and crying, and Cinderella was yelling for Team One to back off. The team was yelling at him to drop the knife, and he was warning them if any of them moved he was going to kill the victim. This had become what we technically call in the business a goat fuck.

  I saw what was happening and stopped my team. I knew that Danny couldn’t get a shot now even if the HT exposed his head, due to Brett’s team being in his way. I also knew that the HT was on the edge and had to be taken out of the equation. I pulled the small, spring-loaded punch I carried in my LBV, reached down and popped it on the bottom corner of large plate window on the front of the store. The safety glass spidered into a million pieces and I raked it with the muzzle of my weapon. I had taken over Team Two, but Travis didn’t seem to mind. I stepped through the broken window. Glass was crunching under my boots but no one could have heard it over all the people shouting in the room. My team followed me down the last aisle nearest the coolers until we got to the aisle at the back of the store. As I moved, I had seen Brett’s team to my left, all still in the stack, their weapons pointed toward the suspect’s direction, but in reality only one or two of them would have actually had a shot even it had presented itself. I peeked the corner at the end of the aisle and saw the situation. The HT was almost on his back on the floor with the clerk pulled tight on top of him. From the front, there couldn’t have been more than a few inches of target’s body showing.

  I could see the knife had already cut part way into the clerk’s neck. But the scariest part was the HT’s eyes. They were not wide. Normally when a person finds themselves in a scary situation, their eyes go wide. This is a natural body function and done without having thought about it. It falls under that “fight or flight” thing and allows the body to see better. I noticed that the HT’s eyes were squinting like he was mad. I also noticed that although everyone else was yelling, he was simply speaking forcefully. Cinderella was in control of himself, even if he was crazy. I could also tell he was getting impatient that Brett’s men weren’t backing off. I could see his neck muscles begin to tense even more than they already were. That’s when I saw his biceps tighten. I knew the next thing I was going to see was the knife slide across the clerk’s neck. I broke cover with my MP5 up and ready. I had already switched it to single shot. The 9mm round caught him square in the side of the head, above and behind the ear. There was no great response; he just relaxed and fell dead.

  Brett’s number one man moved quickly into position and dragged the clerk free from the mess on the ground. The second man moved to his position a few feet away from the HT and got between him and the hostage. It was quick and smooth just like it was supposed to be. Just because he was dead, or appeared to be, they still did their job like they were supposed to. The third man in the stack, Brett, moved off to the other side and covered the HT with his MP5, while the second man now went about the business of securing the bad guy in cuffs. The number one man was now applying pressure to staunch the blood flowing from the victim’s neck, while the fourth man was covering their rear. It was textbook. At least the end was. My team went ahead and cleared the rest of the building. Again, there was no information that there was more than one bad guy, but a good SWAT team follows procedure every time. And procedure dictated that every inch of the building be swept for bad guys and victims.

  I knew that I would be facing a shooting review and an investigation by the Judicial District’s Critical Incident Team. I should know since I was assigned to it. Not that I would be involved in this investigation. The very purpose of the team is to avoid any appearance of impropriety by having someone from a different agency, other than the one of the cop who shot, investigate the matter. I was guessing it would be someone from the S.O. in this case.

  I relinquished my MP5 at the scene and went back to the Sheriff’s Office to wait for someone to interview me. It was all standard procedure, and I wasn’t concerned. It was a righteous shoot, and all I had to do was articulate the reasons that led me to make the decision I had.

  I was still dressed in my black BDUs with SWAT on the back in big white letters. I sat casually in the squad room of the Sheriff’s Department I used to come into daily. I thought about walking down to my old office but figured the door was locked.

  By policy, there should have been someone there to babysit me. Not for any bad reasons, but so they could testify that I didn’t get my story straight with someone else or something like that. It’s actually to the benefit of the cop. I decided to call Tish. I wasn’t sure if anyone had told her yet, but it was a small county. It wouldn’t take too long for her to hear about it. She took it in stride after I told her I was alright and it was a righteous shooting. I finished my call and sat waiting patiently again for someone to show up and interview me. I was starting to get a little antsy, so I decided to wander down to my old office.

  I reached for the knob and it was unlocked. I went in and turned the light on. It looked different. Not just the things in there, but the whole room. I suppose it had something to do with the fact that it was neat and clean. The books on the bookshelves were straight and in order from small to large. There were only a few things on the wall and they were more decorative than utilitarian. When I had left, there were still crime analysis maps from a burglary spree five years past. I just never got around to taking them down. I was checking out the books on the shelf when I got snuck up on.

  “If you find anything interesting I can let you borrow it.” I knew it was a female before I turned around.

  “No thanks. Just browsing.” I held out my hand and walked toward her. “I’m Dell Moffat with Eaglenest P.D.”

  “I know who you are. You’re a legend around here. Glad to meet you. Detective Kelly Bush.” She shook my hand. Nice, firm grip.

  “A
legend, huh? You need to get better sources. Any relation to the former President?” I asked, commenting on her last name. I couldn’t help myself when it came to young cops; I had to pick.

  “No. You related to the people who make computers?” Touché. Smartass, just like Toby said.

  The conversation lagged, and she asked me if I was ready to get to it.

  She was very organized. Her pen and paper were ready, the tape recorder was set to record, and she took the time to straighten items on her desk that had nothing to do with an interview. What they did have plenty to do with was nervousness. I sat back in my chair and observed the young female detective. She was about 5’5” tall with long brown hair. Although not fat, maybe one-hundred-twenty-five pounds, her body was kind of, well, manly, but she didn’t look like she was trying to be a man, like some female cops did. She obviously was a woman and did all the female things. Her ears were pierced and she wore small, gold, unobtrusive earrings. She had on make-up and nail polish, and maybe even a hint of perfume. I wasn’t sure since my sinuses were still clogged with cordite. In all, she was not beautiful, but she certainly wasn’t ugly. Just incredibly average. She came across as confident in her demeanor, but this interview was off to what I would call a false start. She finally had arranged as many things as she could without opening her desk drawer and starting there.

  “Shall we start?” I decided to get the ball rolling.

  “Yes.”

  She started the recorder and began working her way through normal procedures, qualifying the tape to make sure the machine was working, then went to laying out the preliminary information which sets up and prefaces the actual interview.

  “This is Detective Kelly Bush. I’m in my office at the Logan County Sheriff’s Department with Detective Dell Moffat. Detective Moffat works for the Eaglenest Police Department and is also assigned to the Logan County Multi-Jurisdictional SWAT team. I am going to be interviewing him this evening concerning a shooting he was involved in on this date, which was precipitated by a SWAT call-out regarding a hostage situation.”