by A. American
“Roll it ALL the way down.”
Daniel rolled it down some more, about half way. The officer took a step closer and shined the flashlight in, looking around. “Let me see your ID.” The soaked officer practically spat.
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked. He was actually curious.
“I said, give me your ID.”
“No offense; and I’m not trying to be a hard ass, but do I have to? Have I done anything wrong?”
A look of disgust spilled across the cop’s face as he slowly shook his head. Reaching inside his slicker, he pulled the mic for his radio out and keyed it. “Noncompliant in the number one, green van.”
“Hey, I’m not lookin,” he was quickly cut off. Daniel wasn’t expecting this. He just asked the question. A ticket for reckless driving and several hundred dollars for an attorney had taught him a couple of things; well, he thought it had.
“Pull over there”, the officer stated flatly, pointing with his flashlight.
“Shit” he muttered under his breath as he pulled out of the travel lane and onto the shoulder where several additional unhappy and wet cops were now waiting on him.
Before he even stopped, they were already on both sides of the van. Instead of talking to him through the window, the officer on the driver’s side simply opened the door and ordered him out. At the same time, an officer on the passenger side opened that door.
“Shut the vehicle off and step out, sir,” The officer now standing in the open door said.
“Easy, guys. I just asked if I had to give him my ID. I’m not doing anything wrong. Is there any reason to suspect that I have done anything wrong?”
“Sir, I asked you to step out. Are you going to step out and allow me to look in your vehicle?” Now, other officers were coming up.
“Do I have to? All I did was ask a question. Can you answer my question?”
“Sir, I asked you politely. Now I’m telling you to step out or I’m going to take you out.”
From the other side of the van, other officers joined in. “Make it easy, buddy. Just step out and let us do our job. If everything is Ok, you’ll be on your way.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Can you answer my question? You say you’re asking me to and if I don’t, you’re going to take me out. Am I under arrest?”
The situation was getting out of hand as additional officers had converged on the scene. Daniel was beginning to doubt even asking the damn question. He wasn’t against the cops, but he knew he had rights. The officers now surrounding the van though had a completely different opinion of the situation.
“No. You are not under arrest, but you will be if you don’t step out and give me your ID. Just make it easy. Just step out.”
“Quit being an ass. Get out of the van!” another officer screamed.
“Are you ordering me out?” Daniel asked the officer in his door.
“Yes. I am ordering you out of the van.”
“Okay. I’m going to undo the seatbelt, and I’ll get out.”
Daniel clicked the button and pulled the belt from around him and stepped out. He was immediately grabbed and shoved against the hood of the van. This surprised him, as he expected them to throw him on the ground, in the mud. The officers were talking amongst themselves as they patted him down and cuffed him. As he leaned over the hood he saw one of the officers on the passenger side lean in the open door, at the same time the officer cuffing him spun him around.
“I do not consent to a search of my van.”
The cop shot him a look of pure annoyance. “Billy”, the officer that was beginning to search the van straightened up, looking at the other officer who shook his head slightly.
As the officer was going through Daniel’s wallet for his ID, he asked, “What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing. I haven’t done anything wrong and you can’t just search me.”
“If you haven’t done anything wrong, what are you worried about?” The officer pulled out the license from the wallet, then took another card out and held it up for the other officer to see.
“You have a concealed handgun license? Do you have any weapons in the van?”
“No. I don’t have any now; sold them all right before the last ban was passed.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. He didn’t have any with him at the moment.
“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that recently? You know it is now illegal to possess most firearms?”
“I do, so I made a quick buck. Wasn’t against the law at the time.”
The officer wasn’t amused. He had handed Daniel’s ID off to another officer who had probably stepped away to run it. They stood in the rain for several minutes. While they waited, Daniel asked, “What’s this all about?”
“It’s just the brave new world. If I didn’t have to deal with so many people like you, it would all go a lot faster.”
Daniel shook his head to knock some of the rain off. “Would you consent to a search?”
With a smug smile, the officer replied. “That’s not going to happen. See, I’m on the winning team.”
Daniel didn’t reply. The statement stunned him. He thought about conversations he’d had up in the woods before the old man died about the us and them mentality. And now he was staring it straight in the face. The officer returned and handed the ID back to the officer talking to Daniel. “He’s clean.”
“Turn around,” he said. And then the officer started to unlock the cuffs. “Next time, it would be in your best interest to just go along with the program. Just think, you wouldn’t be all wet now if you had just showed your ID to begin with.”
Daniel turned to face the officer, rubbing his wrists. “Am I free to go?”
“Yes sir, you are free to go, for now.”
Daniel didn’t waste any time getting into the van and heading home. Though, for the remainder of the ride, all he could think about was the last two words the cop said, for now. His phone chimed. He saw it was Malcolm and did not feel like hearing from him. Malcolm was rather liberal and a, I told you so was not going to improve his mood.
Daniel made it home and fell into his sofa with a groan of relief. It had been a long day, and finally being home took a load off his mind. He craned his neck, looking back over his shoulder at the fridge. There was a six-pack of Woodchuck cider in there and he wanted it; just didn’t feel like getting up. But it damn sure wasn’t coming to him. With a grunt, Daniel heaved himself off the sofa and went to the fridge. His phone was sitting on the kitchen island vibrating. He ignored it.
He brought the whole six-pack back to the sofa, not wanting to have to get up again. He fell into the sofa finally. Flipping on the TV, he scanned the news networks. It was more of the same, more riots, more shooting and more of people getting pissed off. He stopped on MSNBC when he saw an update of the Lansing Incident, where even the crawler at the bottom of the screen called it that.
Another of the Michigan Troopers shot during the firefight had died. They were showing a tape from earlier in the day of the Governor of the state giving a press conference. He was ranting about the people involved and how they would be brought to justice, and about how what had occurred was an act of domestic terrorism. The Governor went on to say that he had been in talks with the President earlier in the day and that the Michigan Militia has been officially designated a terrorist organization. This designation allowed for the use of federal assets in tracking them down.
Daniel just shook his head. He wasn’t a fan of what happened. No one in their right mind would be. But he could understand the mindset of those that thought that way. Opening his second cider, he flipped the TV over to the Xbox. A little time in the world of Battlefield would take his mind off this crap. Before the game even loaded, his phone started ringing. The caller ID showed it was Ma
lcolm calling again. Not tonight, he thought as he returned the phone to its cradle.
Dinner never entered his mind as Daniel played video games, getting his ass handed to him by eight-year-old kids. He was taking a break to go dig around in the fridge, when he picked up his cell phone and saw all the messages. There were nineteen new emails, all of them with the little urgent sign attached. He was trying to decide if he was even going to look at them when the phone rang. Malcolm again. Shaking his head, he reluctantly answered the call.
“What’s up, Malcolm?”
“Daniel, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying for hours to get in touch with you!”
“Been busy, man. What’s up?”
“I need you to come in. There’s a serious problem on the network.”
“Dude, it’s dark. You know we can’t travel after dark.” A thin smile cut his lips.
“I know. Do you know Robert Thomas?”
“Yeah, I know Bob. Isn’t he the head of physical security?”
Daniel could almost feel the agitation through the phone. “Yes, Robert is the head of physical security. He’s going to be in touch with you and will send you a pass that will allow you to travel. We have the permission from the SEC to do what we need in order to deal with this situation.”
“What the hell’s going on? I thought we had it under control when I left.”
“Well, it would appear we didn’t. I need you to come in. Robert will be in touch shortly with the instructions. I’ll see you soon.” The line went dead and Daniel dropped the phone on the counter.
“This is bullshit!”
Daniel figured while he waited he could watch a little more news, and he started to scan the news channels. It was just more bad news. Most major cities were having almost nonstop riots of some sort or another. It was getting ugly. It was as if something major happened. Something nationwide. Cities all over the country were now in turmoil. Having seen enough of this in the last few days, he pulled up the guide to find something else to watch, deciding Big Bang Theory would make a nice distraction.
It wasn’t long before the phone rang, and Daniel hoped it would be Malcolm telling him he didn’t have to come in. The number displayed on the caller ID was from the bank, just not from Malcolm.
“Hello.”
“Daniel, this is Bob Thomas. I just emailed you a form you need to print out and keep with you on your way in. My cell number is with it. If you have any trouble, call me immediately.” Bob’s gravelly voice filled the speaker. Daniel could almost smell the cigarette smoke.
“Sure thing. What the hell’s going up there?”
“I have no idea. That’s why we need you. Malcolm is about to shit himself. Pack a bag, too. You may be here a while.”
“What the hell do you mean, pack a bag? I’m not sleeping in my cubicle.”
“You won’t have to. We have facilities here. Things are getting shady around here and all over the metro, and it may be hard to get out once you get in. Better safe than sorry.”
Daniel sat up on the edge of the couch. “Whadda’ya mean, facilities?”
“You’ll see when you get here.” Bob paused for a moment. “Have uh, have you got any guns?”
Daniel pulled the phone from his head. He did indeed have a couple left, but wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, especially over the phone. “No, Bob. I sold all mine before the ban.”
A chuckle came from the other end. “Yeah, me too. Damn shame, really. But if I had any, I’d bring ‘em with me today. Just remember, if you get stopped at all, call me immediately. And call me when you get to the parking garage so I can let you in. See you soon.”
“Alright, see you soon.” The line went dead.
Daniel sat there for a moment looking at Sheldon on the TV, a hundred thoughts running through his head. Jumping up from the sofa, he headed for the closet where all his gear was. Standing in the open door, he looked at everything, trying to decide what he would take. In the end, he decided to take most of it. After all, he wasn’t going to have to carry it. It would all be in the van.
He was nervous as he backed out of his parking spot in the garage at the apartments. It was dark now, officially a time that was prohibited for being on the road. As he pulled out, his headlights revealed an empty road for as far as he could see. It was weird and nice at the same time, no traffic. Daniel pulled up an old Creed album on his IPod and plugged it into the stereo.
Human Clay was playing when he approached his first APD roadblock. Without looking over, he reached into the passenger seat and patted the sheet of paper he had printed out just a short time ago. The officers waved him to a stop, making their point with the ARs they held to their shoulders. Daniel rolled to a stop, making sure to keep his hands on the steering wheel.
The officers shouted orders as they approached. They seemed particularly on edge, and Daniel wasn’t about to mess around, knowing if he did, he would wind up in the morgue. The officers separated as they approached, one on either side. The officer that approached his side was a young guy around his age. The other one was older. If age were an indicator, he would be the more experienced, though the younger one was issuing all the commands.
“Keep your hands where I can see them and roll down your window!”
Daniel immediately rolled the glass down, keeping his other hand on the wheel. The younger officer stepped up. “What are you doing out here? You should know there’s a curfew!” More of an accusation than a question.
“I work for one of the banks downtown and have been called in to assist with a problem. I have a pass here from your department that gives me permission.”
The younger officer pulled the door open. “Get out!”
Daniel complied. As he climbed out, the older officer asked, “Where’s the form?”
“On the passenger seat.” He indicated with a nod of his head.
“Out. Hands on the hood!” The younger officer shouted as the older one went into the passenger side and retrieved the sheet lying there.
As Daniel put his hands on the hood, the young officer buried the muzzle of the carbine in his back. “Do not move. Understand me?”
Daniel simply nodded his head in reply. He was kicking himself in the ass for not calling Bob. It just slipped his mind, but he could suddenly very clearly remember him saying it.
“Hey, Jimmy. Get his ID.” The older officer called out as he walked around the front of the van. He’d slung his rifle over his shoulder.
The younger officer pulled Daniel’s wallet out and tossed it to the older one and continued to pat him down.
“Jim, this looks legit. I’m going to call it in and see,” The older officer said.
“Whatever. I’ll keep an eye on him here. What the hell do you do for the bank that makes you so special?”
Without looking up, Daniel answered. “I do network security.”
“Oh, yeah. Big bad hackers gotta be stopped, huh? Give me a break. All the shit going on and you’re worried about some kids trying to hack into your network.” The younger officer taunted.
“I didn’t want to come in. Believe me, not my choice.”
“Leave him alone, Jim. He works for the bank that our paychecks are written on. He checks out. You must be damn important for the SEC to request you personally.” The older officer said.
“I’m not. But I guess my boss knows someone,” Daniel replied.
“Alright. Go on, don’t make any pit stops and be careful. Things are getting a little hairy over the direction you’re going,” The older officer said.
Daniel quickly got back in the van and started it. The officers stepped apart and he pulled between them. The younger of the two still had a look of contempt on his face. He wanted to give the guy the finger but thought better of it.
The
rest of the ride to the office was uneventful for the most part. The closer he got to the bank, the more people he started to see. Usually, only fleeting glances as they darted in and out of shadows. Once, he got a clear view of two men who were both wearing the mask from the movie V for Vendetta. Now he really wished his Glock were close enough to get to.
As he rounded the corner to the bank, he was surprised to see large roll-up doors closing off the entrance to the parking garage. He stopped in front of one of them, just staring at it. Where in the hell did that come from?
His cell phone suddenly rang, causing him to jump in his seat at the same time the door started to open. “Hello?”
“I told you to call me when you got here. I also told you to call me if you had any trouble, neither of which you did.” Bob growled into the phone. He then continued. “Pull through the gate to the underground lot and stop in front of the big roll-up door that will be in front of you as you come down the ramp. When the door opens, drive through it and wait for me.”
“Okay.” Daniel replied as the line went dead. He looked at his phone. “Asshole hung up on me again.”
Normally, the drive to the lower, underground portion of the parking structure was blocked by one of those little arms that is raised up and down. Pulling through the gate, he saw the arm was up, and he hooked a right and drove through it as the gate began to lower behind him. He had never been down in this part of the building before. As with any large modern building, everyone had a prox card for the hundreds of readers located all over it. Access was controlled through permissions; and his certainly didn’t have permission to access this part of the building.