by Ryan Garner
Trailing behind the pallbearers Terrance Walth’s family walked with bowed heads. While John had barely known the man, it was particularly hard for him to watch as Officer Walth’s wife, two young children, and parents, silently followed the casket. All the officers at the funeral held their salutes as the pallbearers and family finished passing by.
“Officers! Order arms!” The unseen captain yelled as all the officer’s simultaneously dropped their arms back down to their side, but remained at attention.
….
“You are truly the greatest police force this nation has ever known.” NGP Chief Vincent Evans said as he paced back and forth across the stage inside of the National Governing Police headquarters. “You are the last and sometimes the only line of defense for this country. You protect those who cannot protect themselves. You will guard against misplaced ideology, and right wing extremism. You hold in your hands all the power of the United State and the rights and privileges of the National Preservation Act.”
Chief Evans halted dramatically in front of the podium which was on the stage as he continued to speak. “We will entrust you with greater privileges and responsibilities than any other police officer has ever been given before and we do this with good reason. You are highly trained, motivated, educated, dedicated, and loyal individuals. The grueling six month training you have just undergone has prepared you for the adversities you are about to face. Do not be afraid to use the full extent of your authority in order to ensure the betterment of the state and in turn the people.”
Jennifer fought the urge to fidget as she remained at attention in front of the stage where Chief Evans was speaking. Seated a few yards behind her group of cadets was a small crowd of friends and family members observing the NGP academy graduation. Several high ranking NGP command staff members and training staff also stood at different locations throughout the room. The auditorium was not that large, but it easily housed the one hundred and twenty-five people that were currently occupying its space. The NGP headquarters was in fact much larger, and the audience had been ushered through several security screenings before they had been allowed into the central portion of the police headquarters. It was understood that photo or video documentation was strictly forbidden. Still, most of the guests were close family and friends of these new NGP Officers and thought little of the stringent security measures, especially given the day and age.
“You can be the change that people will believe in.” Chief Evans said as he continued his speech. “You will be the presence our citizens know they can trust in…the light in the dark, the thin blue line between good and evil, the protectors of the downtrodden and oppressed. You WILL be this country’s greatest asset.”
Chief Evans paused and took a half step back as the crowd began to applaud, a subtle yet sly grin of accomplishment made its way across his face when they did. His ability to influence a crowd had always been one of his greatest skills. In fact, many thought that the only person who could possibly out speak Chief Evans in a public address was President Jamal Jordan himself. Sometimes, Evans himself wondered if he would be able to best the president should a rivalry between them ever arise. It was a curious thought, one that he might entertain more seriously should the time and opportunity ever arise.
Once the crowd quieted he continued. “Know that I have faith that all of you will be able to complete the task that has been handed to you and it will be my honor to serve with each and every one of you.” He paused briefly as he stared out at all of the cadets carefully making eye contact with each one of them and maintaining his deliberately intimidating stare.
“Dum vivimus servimus.” he said. In response, the cadets in unison roared out the English translation of the Latin phrase,
“While we live, we serve!”. Evans took a step away from the podium and the crowd again applauded, his triumphant smile grew larger.
….
The line of police cars escorting the funeral procession stretched for well over two miles, each patrol vehicle’s light bar flashing both sequential and random patterns, but no sirens sounded. Law enforcement officers had come from all around the surrounding areas and some from even further to participate in this funeral. The procession moved at a steady pace as occasionally officers would speed ahead, blocking traffic at each intersection so that the hearse would not need to stop.
John sat in his cruiser following quietly along in the long line of patrol vehicles. Every so often he would hear a beep come from the control panel for his emergency equipment located in the large center console of his car. It indicated to him that his LED lights were still active. He ignored the repetitious sound as his thoughts drifted.
Every officer had heard the story of Terrance Walth’s death. Some, like John had taken the time to read the report first hand. A large group of Occupy Congress protestors had decided to march on Wilmington’s city hall. The crowd soon became severely unruly, and on the command of both the police chief and an NGP Command Officer, Wilmington PD officers were sent in to make large scale arrests. Initially, everything had gone relatively smoothly with officers meeting only with light resistance such as protestors linking arms, or refusing to comply with lawful commands.
Suddenly, things took a drastic turn and something close to a full scale riot broke out. Before Active Denial Systems could be utilized several protestors had managed to push through the front lines of the police riot squads and into the secondary lines, where officers were still attempting to subdue numerous subjects who had been detained.
John had been informed that even the investigating detectives were still unsure of the exact details of what happened next. At some point Officer Walth had attempted to arrest one particular protestor by the name of Kenneth Abernethy who fled from the scene with Walth in pursuit. Unfortunately, his pursuit of Mr. Abernethy had not been noticed by any of his fellow officers so Terrance Walth was alone when he ran down a blind alleyway. There he was ambushed by an awaiting Occupy Congress sniper. Officer Walth had never stood a chance.
John had not been working on that particular day, but news of Officer Walth’s death had spread extremely quickly throughout the police community. Sadly, Terrance was not alone in his death. He had become one of many officers across the country recently killed during civil uprisings or terrorist bombings. To local police departments it was becoming an all too common occurrence as domestic problems continued to spiral completely out of control.
There were several different theories as to why things had gotten so bad, but more and more officers including John were convinced that over taxation, outrageous gas prices as high as $10.00 a gallon, widening social and economic differences, unemployment, lenient judicial processes, an intensely overcrowded prison system, and the rapid destruction of the middle class had created a powder keg that was poised for an explosion. In actuality, it had already exploded in many areas. Crime was spiraling completely out of control with arrests reaching record highs; however probation, parole, and early release rates had skyrocketed thanks in part to extreme jail and prison overcrowding. To call the criminal justice system a revolving door was an understatement.
Much like Europe and Canada, the American military had been gutted to a shell of its former self by the current administration as much needed resources had been poured largely into social and entitlement programs that seemed to swallow money at an unimaginable and never ending rate. The resulting lack of a cohesive military strength among the Western democracies had allowed for the enemies of the free world to expand across the globe at an unfettered rate.
After social programs the next in line to receive monetary assistance was the NGP. Everyone else was force to fight over the remaining scraps. Regular state and local police agencies were being compelled to either reduce existing staff or severely limit their hiring process which in turn left officers overworked and stretched too thin. This new environment created everyday situations such as the one that had just killed Terrance Walth. John felt that it was a wonder that mo
re officers had not been killed already.
Desperation over the entire situation at hand was already becoming exceedingly apparent. Nevertheless, like many individuals John had decided that he could do nothing to affect any of this. He was a police officer and worrying about things he could not change did him virtually no good. He tightened his grip slightly around the steering wheel of his patrol car as it continued its passage towards the cemetery.
….
Karina Cherry nervously spun her silver thumb ring as she waited anxiously amidst the crowd. Her long, wavy brown hair cascaded down across her snug, powder blue button down short sleeve dress shirt which stopped just shy of the waistband of her form fitting black dress slacks. Depending on which way she moved her body a small portion of her midriff would be exposed. Of course, that was supposed to happen. Small framed and in her early twenties she was barely 130 pounds and only stood 5’3” tall, but thanks to her 3.5 inch black high heels, she was now a bit taller. Her face had delicate, soft features and her hazel eyes darted around the room. Nervousness had flushed much of the color out of her already fair skinned cheeks. A silver necklace and earrings accompanied her fashionable attire.
“Karina…” A voice came from behind her as she felt someone place their hand on her shoulder. Karina nearly jumped when she was touched. Jennifer Fields stood with a distinctly haughty look on her face as Karina turned to face her.
Jennifer then produced a smile, “I’m glad you came.” She said.
Karina nodded her head still displaying a slight bit of nervousness, “You asked me to.” She responded flatly.
“Well I wasn’t sure after how we left things if you would or not.”
Karina continued to appear uneasy. If she were to be honest with herself, she knew she would not be able to say exactly why she had made the trek out to see Jennifer graduate from the NGP academy. Washington DC was not exactly a short drive from Wilmington. Was it because Jennifer was her friend…if she could still even call her that by now? She knew deep down that at some level it was probably because of what Jennifer had been or still was to her. Added to that, Karina had never been able to say no to Jennifer about much of anything. Her heart rate increased as her thoughts became more and more disjointed as Jennifer stood in front of her, almost examining her.
“How have you been?” Jennifer asked.
“Good…” Karina said nervously nodding her head, “…I’ve been good. How have you been?” The conversation felt oddly rehearsed to her at this point. She actually had gone over it in her head so many times.
“I’ve been great.” Jennifer responded with a large smile as she stepped in closer and hugged Karina. A myriad of feelings descended on Karina. A nervous awkwardness was definitely present, but was countered by a kind of strange joy at Jennifer’s display of affection towards her. Karina returned the hug.
“How long are you in town for?” Jennifer asked as she released Karina from her embrace.
“Just the day, What about you?”
“I’ll be headed back to Wilmington sometime next week probably. I have to finish up a few things here paperwork wise, but I should be home soon.” Jennifer smiled again at Karina who appeared to relax momentarily in response to Jennifer’s warm look.
“You know I have a room here…” Jennifer said as she reached out and gently brushed some of Karina’s hair out of her face while at the same time caressing her cheek.
“You could stay…” Karina immediately, almost violently jerked her head away.
“No…” was her immediate response, dismay was readily apparent in her tone. Jennifer chuckled as she stared into Karina’s eyes.
“Just thought I’d ask.” She said and then continued “…you know, for old times’ sake.” Jennifer hesitated for a split second and then continued, “I have missed you.”
Karina nearly froze as an uneasy sensation rolled over her. Her cheeks blushed as she fought against several conflicting emotions. Jennifer immediately saw the conflict in Karina’s eyes and seized the opportunity to act. Stepping in quickly she cupped her hand around the back of Karina’s neck and kissed her. Karina felt as if she would melt, while at the same time wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear. After a momentary delay caused by her own indecision, Karina pushed Jennifer away from her, letting out an exasperated gasp when she did so.
“No…” she said, “I can’t…I won't.” Jennifer tilted her head slightly to the side, a surprised reaction to Karina’s rebuke evident on her face.
“Is it because of him?” she asked directly. Karina was put off by Jennifer’s question.
“Yes…” she shot back in an annoyed voice then quickly corrected herself, “No…no it’s not because of him, it’s because of you.” Jennifer’s brow crinkled. “I shouldn’t have come here…this was stupid.” Karina said as she turned and walked quickly away. Jennifer crossed her arms as she watched Karina flee, a sultry, contemptuous smile making its way across her face.
….
“Ready…aim…fire.” The command was given before the crack of seven Smith and Wesson M&P15X 5.56mm rifles echoed across the cemetery. Several of the civilians in the crowd flinched at the sound of the gunfire, but all the officers who now stood silently saluting their friend did not move.
“Aim…fire” The second command was quietly uttered and there was another crack as the rifles were again fired by the honor guard. The majority of the crowd was more prepared for the sound this time, but some were still startled.
“Aim…fire” The final command was given as the volley of gunfire rang out once more as the seven rifles fired one last time.
John stood at attention as the bagpipes began to play again. He along with hundreds of others officers watched silently as the six pallbearers carefully folded the American flag which had been draped over the casket into a perfect triangle with only the blue field and white stars exposed to the outside world. Once that task had been completed the officer at the head of the casket took the flag and slowly walked over to Terrance Walth’s wife who was standing silently nearby with her two children.
When he held the tightly folded flag out to her, John saw that she struggled not to break down in tears. He ground his teeth, fighting to hold his own emotions in check as the lonely wail of bagpipes echoed across the countryside. Taking the flag Mrs. Walth clutched it to her chest. The officer standing in front of her snapped to attention and saluted, all of the other officers immediately followed suit.
Several seconds drifted by before the next order was given, “Officers! Order, arms!” The sea of uniformed officers all lowered their arms together.
Chief Stickel was standing next to Officer Walth’s family. He quietly stepped forward and pulled his hand held radio from his belt. Using his index finger he depressed the button on the side and spoke into the radio in a solemn voice, “WPD1…Wilmington 1…Radio traffic.” he said.
There was a moment’s pause before a male dispatcher’s voice came over the radio, “WPD1, this is Wilmington 1. Go ahead with your traffic.”
Chief Stickel took a hard swallow as he felt his own emotions creeping up on him. “Call in, Officer Terrance Walth…Unit 103Adam…” he said as his voice trailed off at the end of his sentence.
There was a stillness from the radio before a steady alert tone was heard. Immediately after the tone ceased the male dispatcher came back over the radio.
“All units, be advised…” the dispatcher balked as he choked back his own feelings and forced himself to continue “…103Adam, is now 10-42 (end of watch).”
CHAPTER 3
John had always enjoyed the night shift. He had never been much of a morning person, but it was more than distaste for getting up early that drew him to these late shifts. There was simply more going on at night and less “mundane” activity. It was far less likely to be hours filled with just running from one accident report to the next, or from one a breaking and entering occurred earlier to another. There was a certain intrigue and mystery that the night o
ffered that the day did not. Of course that also went hand in hand with more danger, but that was not something John minded either. If the prospect of danger had bothered him, he would never have become a police officer in the first place.
Tonight, he strolled through the poorly lit back parking lot of the District 2 station house. Most of the area was deserted; the only vehicles that remained were police cars or automobiles that belonged to officers who were already working their shift. If it had not been for the obvious police sign that was positioned at the roadway or the other mounted above the one story building itself this building could have easily been mistaken for one of any number of office complexes that was located in the surrounding area. He always found it was a rather meager looking police station, but that didn’t bother him much either.
Approaching the locked glass door located near the back of the building, he removed a key ring from a clip on his equipment belt and scanned his magnetic key fob over a small gray box located to the right of the door handle. There was a beep and the small red LED that was on the scanner box changed to green and John heard a click as the lock released. He pulled the door open and then stepped inside the building.
The long hallway was painted powder blue in color and depending on the route he took it would lead him to a few different locations. If he had proceeded straight ahead the hallway opened up into a larger room with several tables all of which had computers and paperwork sitting on them. That larger room split off into two more adjoining hallways leading to either supervisor’s offices or interrogation rooms. To his right was a large kitchen and break room area and to his left was an open door leading into the squad room. John stepped through the door to his left and into the open squad room.