by Ryan Garner
BROKEN
SHIELD
Copyright 2015
Ryan Garner
All Rights Reserved
Edited By: Michael Keller
This is a work of fiction. All the events and characters described herein are products of the author’s imagination.
Any similarities to actual persons are entirely coincidental.
This work or any parts thereof may not be copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means; electronic, mechanical or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.
Contents
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
“To love someone deeply gives you strength.
Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage."
-Lao-Tzu
This book is dedicated to all those who risk their lives every day walking the thin blue line between good and evil.
Prologue
In the near future, terrorism is rampant, civil uprisings have become common place, and debt has virtually consumed all of the Western Democracies. After the startling revelation that China had managed to keep its currency at an artificially low rate for decades, it became apparent that the United States, Canada, and Europe had all paid back trillions more than their intended obligations. This shocking news dealt the industrial nations’ economies a crippling blow from which they might never recover. In the midst of the ensuing economic catastrophe Asian businesses continued to secretly steal the plans for patented materials from American and European businesses. Unemployment skyrocketed; the value of the US Dollar, Canadian Dollar, and the Euro all tumbled to record lows while the Chinese Yuan skyrocketed.
In the face of an economic, political, and social catastrophe unlike any the free world had ever seen before a young, attractive, and charismatic Senator named Jamal Jordan was elected president of the United States; he had risen to power quickly on a tidal wave of optimism that he would keep his assurances to solve the problems of the country. With his party in control of both houses of Congress, President Jordan was extended virtually limitless power. Unfortunately after nearly two years in office it had become apparent that his economic, political, and social policies had failed completely.
As the midterm elections rapidly approached and a strong likelihood that his party would lose control of Congress, President Jordan used the continuing economic and social crisis as justification to pass the “National Preservation Act”. The statute suspended the United States Constitution, dissolved congress, halted general elections, and closed all federal courts including the Supreme Court for a period of ten years. All executive, legislative, and judicial powers were entrusted to a small executive council handpicked and headed by President Jordan himself.
Despite their outrage, state governments, local administrative bodies, and most elected officials were stripped of virtually all power and reduced overnight to mere puppets of the federal government. A tremendous amount of pressure was placed on all governors, state legislatures, mayors, sheriffs, and police chiefs to conform to the new government standards or face drastic consequences.
With terrorist attacks, suicide bombings, large scale misguided distrust of local police, and civil unrest at all-time highs, all federal laws were administratively amended to include a decree forbidding, “any conduct contrary to the interests of the nation.” A national police force entrusted with both federal and local powers was established through the Department of Homeland Security. Called the, “National Governing Police” or NGP for short, they were bestowed with authority which allows them to supersede “certain” state constitutional laws at “certain” times. They were also given the power to override local officials and to completely seize control of state, county, and municipal police forces whenever the “need” to serve “national interest” was presented. All rules governing “certain times”, “needs”, and “national interest” were promulgated by the NGP.
Over time more and more activities; especially those of a religious nature were labeled suspicious or even dangerous. This designation granted the NPG even more power to investigate such matters. Too often local police officers found themselves forced to choose between the rights of the individuals, and the demands of the NPG.
CHAPTER 1
“206David, Wilmington foot pursuit!” Christian Hesser shouted into the radio that he held close to his mouth as he sprinted through a small housing community. Running in between dilapidated houses with peeling paint Hesser could hear the equipment on his belt rattling against itself as he ran. Keys jingling, handcuffs smacking against his hip, a collapsible steel baton rattling, it all made a distinctive metal clanking as his movement shifted them back and forth. Even though he had run less than one hundred yards he was surprised to sense how tired he had already become at the beginning of this, his very first foot chase with a suspect. While he had not been at the very top of his academy class when it came to physical prowess this fair skinned, tall, slender, and fit young officer with dark hair was in relatively good shape. He had been able to pass most of the physical demands placed upon him during his training without too much of a problem. Running had not been his favorite activity in the academy, but he had been able to complete the several mile a day runs without undue stress. Of course during that time he had been performing most of the physical activity dressed in shorts and a t-shirt along with sneakers. Only once had the commandant at the academy made them run in business attire, and that was just to punish them. However, he now ran in high topped combat boots, black wool dress pants, and a black polyester and cotton blend button down short sleeve shirt. A level 3A bullet resistant vest which was now beginning to itch was strapped to his upper torso underneath his shirt, and at least twenty pounds of equipment hung around his waist; a far cry from what he had been accustomed to. Add to that combination the noon day sun and its heat and this made running very uncomfortable to say the least.
Sweat was pouring off Hesser’s forehead as he ran. “Black male, white shirt, blue jeans!” he spat out as he gasped for breath between words. The suspect who was only about twelve feet in front of him turned a corner around a house and continued his flight.
“He’s running north away from Rehder Alley, towards Campbell Street!” Hesser shouted through the radio.
Coming to a chain link fence the suspect quickly grasped the tubular aluminum frame and pulled himself up and over the fence and down to the other side before he resumed his run. Reaching the fence Hesser did the same. Before he had fully cleared the fence he “thought” he heard a voice calling to him from the distance and although the voice registered in his mind as that of his training officer, Eric Morrisey who he had sprinted past shortly after the chase had begun, he did not bother to think what Morrisey might be trying to say, he was now completely focused on his chase.
“He’s running across Campbell Street.” He shouted as he and the suspect sprinted across the small two lane roadway, the black asphalt reflecting the heat of the sun back into their bodies. As Hesser ran he could hear the v
oices of other police units through his shoulder microphone as they begin to answer his calls for help on the radio.
“205David en route…forty-five seconds out…” he heard.
The next response followed almost immediately, “SABLE 1 en route…” The Southeaster North Carolina AirBorne Law Enforcement helicopter blades could be heard thudding in the background as the pilot spoke over the radio.
The object of the young officer’s pursuit, a black male raced through an unsuspecting woman’s yard as she stood outside her house watering plants. She shrieked in fear and jumped away from him as he passed by her, dropping her water hose and inadvertently spraying Hesser with the cool liquid as he followed close behind. This annoyed him, but at the same time the cool water was a welcome relief from the heat. In the distance he could hear police sirens as other officers grew closer to his location. Rounding the corner of the house his boots slipped out from under him on the moist grass and he crashed to the ground his equipment making more noise than he did when it struck the earth.
Not even bothering to brush the grass and dirt off himself, he scrambled to his feet and continued his pursuit briefly allowing his right hand to graze over his holster and the Smith and Wesson M&P .45 that it held, confirming that his weapon was still where it was supposed to be. He raised his radio back to his mouth with his left hand and depressed the button on the side.
“He’s headed towards Hanover Street!” He said between gulps of air as he continued running. A few seconds of silence then followed on the radio and a steady alert tone could be heard every 3 seconds indicating to anyone who might be listening that the primary dispatch channel was currently secured for Hesser’s radio traffic.
Bounding over some small shrubbery as he cleared a small wooded area between houses, he realized that even though he was exhausted the same appeared to be true for his quarry. He was now closing the distance between the two of them. Sprinting through yet another person’s yard Hesser reached out in front of him with his right hand, his fingers just inches away from grasping the shirt of his suspect.
Come on!!! he thought to himself as his fingers grazed the male’s shirt.
Several more seconds of running passed before Hesser finally managed to grasp the fugitive’s clothing, pulling back against his shirt. The young male spun around trying to jerk himself free. With his radio still in his left hand Hesser wrapped his left arm around the suspect and shoved his body weight into him. They both came crashing to the ground with a fleshy thud and slid for several feet across the grass before coming to a stop. There was an audible “ooff!” as the officer’s weight came down onto his prisoner.
Wriggling around on the ground Hesser and his captive were now caught up in a wrestling match. With the radio in his hand, the struggle forced him to key the microphone and allow the sounds of the conflict to be broadcast across the entire city. More units continued to respond on both the primary radio channel he had been transmitting on and other adjoining radio channels.
“Quit resisting!” Hesser ordered as he let go of his radio and grasped one of the suspect’s sweaty arms with his own hand.
“Get off me!” The suspect snapped in response.
The young officer and his opponent remained in a tangled mess on the ground as both grappled with the other. The sirens in the distance were rapidly growing closer as was the thudding of helicopter blades. Reaching behind his back with his right hand, Hesser unsnapped a handcuff loop on his belt and felt the “hinge” cuffs slide into his hand. Unlike regular style handcuffs these “hinge” cuffs replaced the small chain that would have normally held the cuffs together with a hinge similar to that of a door. He had found in training that these cuffs inflicted slightly more pain against a combative subject due to their ridged frame. Bringing them around in front of his body he slammed the blade of the cuffs down onto the left wrists of the suspect, it immediately ratcheted around securing itself.
Pulling and pushing against his adversary, Hesser finally managed to turn him over onto his stomach. However, with his right arm still free the struggle was far from over. Fighting to try and bring the reluctant captive’s hand behind his back Hesser gripped the cuff that was already secured to his suspect’s wrist trying to inflict enough pain to induce compliance without actually severely injuring the man he was fighting against.
Hesser suddenly heard the screeching of tires and the audible blare of a patrol car’s siren as a newer model Dodge Charger came sliding to a stop on the road just several feet away from the yard where he was struggling. Wilmington Police Department decals adorned the side of the white patrol vehicle and a high visible LED bar flashed blue lights in variable patterns which could easily be seen against the bright sun. The siren cut off abruptly as the driver’s side door swung open.
John Lawrence, an experienced police officer in his late twenties who stood around 5’11, with fairer skin and brown hair sprang from the driver’s seat of his patrol car. Lawrence ran around the front of the Charger and towards Hesser and his struggling suspect. Hesser could hear the equipment rattling on his belt as his reinforcement ran. Jumping over the curb Lawrence quickly made his way over to the melee. He dropped to his knees sliding a few feet across the grassy lawn nearly colliding with the two men locked in their struggle.
Grabbing the resisting suspect by the right arm, the two officers finally managed to bring the man’s other hand behind his back. There was the clicking sound of the handcuffs as they closed. All of the erstwhile combatants remained on the ground together breathing heavily for a few seconds; Hesser and his subdued suspect were by far the most winded and repeatedly gasped for air. The thudding blades of SABLE 1 could now be heard directly overhead as the helicopter slowly began to circle their location.
Noticing that Hesser was still distracted by the prior excitement and still hearing the alert tone through his lapel microphone, Lawrence seized the radio on his hip, swiveling it 180 degrees allowing the metal ring that was attached to the plastic back to be released from its belt clip.
Raising it to his lips he spoke, “206David…Wilmington, we’re 10-95 (successful arrest made), you can unsecure the channel and resume normal traffic. All additional units can proceed 10-40 (without lights and sirens).”
There was a momentary delay before a feminine voice came over the radio. “10-4, 206David is 10-95 all units can resume normal traffic on Wilmington 1.” Lawrence moved his radio back to his belt and resecured it. Glancing over at Hesser, he noticed a boyish smirk of excitement on the face of a rookie who had just gone through his first actual foot chase.
“Why were you running?” Hesser asked as he continued to breathe heavily before he carefully started to pat down the male checking to make sure he had no weapons or anything else illegal concealed on his person.
There was silence for a moment, “Why were you running?” Hesser asked again.
“Because you were chasing me!” The male shot back, “Why you chasing me?” he asked. The two officers momentarily exchanged a confused look and then glanced back down at the man.
“Because you were running…” Lawrence answered almost laughing as he did so. Circular logic at best, but that was often times the case with people.
“What’s your name?” Hesser asked.
“Thomas…” The suspect mumbled angrily as Hesser continued his search, cautiously moving his hands into Thomas’s pockets.
“What’s your last name?” Hesser then asked as a follow up question. There was a momentary delay followed by some barely audible mumbling that could not be made out.
“What’s your last name?”
“Watson…” Thomas still mumbled as he spoke.
“You got any ID Thomas?” Lawrence asked, but received no response.
“Do you have any ID?” Hesser demanded.
“Nawh, man…”
More huffing and puffing could be heard as the sound of another set of jangling keys rounded the corner of the nearby house. Eric Morrisey, a heavy set yet muscular off
icer with short hair had finally managed to catch up with the chase. Visibly winded and clearly out of shape his flushed white face was drenched in sweat as he jogged over to where Hesser and Lawrence were still kneeling on top of their detainee. Hesser displayed a proud smile, almost akin to how a puppy would look after returning a ball that had been thrown by its master.
However, his enthusiasm was short lived. “I told you to stop…” Morrisey snapped as he slowed to a walk as he grew closer. Hesser immediately gave him a confused look.
“I didn’t hear you?” He responded with some embarrassment in his tone.
“Next time I tell you to stop…you stop.” Morrisey again barked. Lawrence immediately gave him an annoyed look for chastising his rookie in front of a suspect.
Why don’t you just tell him to let the guy go…offer to buy him a beer for the inconvenience we’ve caused? Lawrence thought to himself. The rookie’s visible excitement over his catch had been completely stripped from him.
“Does he have ID?” Morrisey asked as the other two officers pulled Thomas to his feet.
“No…” Lawrence responded, “…you guys have your M.F.R.?” he asked directing his question towards Hesser who looked despondingly over at Morrisey.
The training officer’s only response was to shrug his shoulders, “My rookie must have forgotten our Mobile Fingerprint Reader at the station.” He said again looking at Hesser whose head began to hang a bit lower. Lawrence clenched his jaw slightly. Yes, it was a mistake on Hesser’s part, but it was one that Morrisey should have caught and corrected hours before this event ever happened.
“I have one in my car.” Lawrence then said in a gruffer tone as he direct the group over to his Charger that still sat idling with the driver’s side door open and the blue LED lights flashing their wild pattern.
He reached into his car and over to the passenger seat where he had a black bag filled with equipment and paperwork. He retrieved a small grey device that resembled a smartphone. Around a quarter of an inch thick and five inches across with a glass display making up roughly three quarters of its size. Lawrence depressed a button on the top of the device and the touch screen immediately came to life. The first image that was displayed was a silhouette of a fingerprint quickly overlaid by the words Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, the startup program continued by allowing most of the lettering to fade out leaving only the letters IAFS another moment passed and the word “Mobile” appeared below IAFS.