by Ryan Garner
“Yeah, that sounds like something I'd say.”
“I ran away and came to live with you that night.” Karina said continuing the story. “You uh...you held onto me all night as I cried.” Tiffany didn't say anything; she merely nodded her head in response as she continued to gradually run her fingers through Karina's hair.
Several minutes of silence drifted on as the two women sat quietly on their couch. Eventually, Karina broke the silence.
“I still haven't talked to John.” She said in a sad tone. “Well other than dispatching him calls on the radio.” She paused briefly before adding, “Not sure if I should even try...or if he wants to talk to me again.”
“He didn't turn you in...That's gotta at least say something about the situation.” Tiffany responded.
“Yeah, but what does it mean? Why didn't he? You know John; everything is black and white with him. I would have thought I'd be in handcuffs by now.”
While Tiffany had her own theories about exactly why John had not turned Karina in she kept those thoughts to herself and instead chose a much more neutral path.
“Well it's got to at least mean he still considers you a friend in some form or fashion.”
“Well I know that, but will he ever speak to me again?” she asked.
“I'm sure he will. You’ll just have to give him time.” Karina let out a long sigh in response to Tiffany’s statement.
“I'm always so good at screwing things up; how do I fix this Tiffany?”
“Just give it time...I'm sure he'll come around.”
“I hope...”
CHAPTER 10
John walked casually into his district house's squad room. The air conditioning was a welcome relief to the warm summer night’s temperature. The majority of his squad, save for Morrisey, Todd Sorrells, and Sergeant Gelman were already in the room. This included the two “newest” members of the squad, Corporal Kurt Bergman and Esmeralda “Ezzi” Merrow.
John had worked with Bergman, a slightly hefty, yet muscular male in his late thirties with sandy blond hair years ago while he was still conducting his own field training. He had found the corporal to be both a very good officer and when he was afforded the opportunity, an effective leader. Among the rank and file police officers it was well known that Bergman was willing to stand up for his men against many a ranking superior officer if they questioned one of his officer's justifiable motives or actions. John secretly suspected that this was the reason Bergman had never risen above the rank of corporal and why he had eventually been forced off the line and assigned to a community service squad. Increasingly, it seemed as if the men and women with the most promising leadership skills were the ones most often times frowned upon. A bold nature or outspoken opinions about how things should be done rather than how things needed to appear politically were not valued. It had become clear to John that the higher up the ranks you looked, the weaker the individuals became; a sad fact in a day when strong leadership was so desperately needed.
Ezzi Merrow on the other hand was somewhat of a mystery to John since he knew very little about the slender Hispanic female with short black hair and dark brown eyes. From what he had heard, however; she was an effective officer. He nodded to her as he slowly moved through the room and sat down somewhere near the middle before turning his attention to the TV. As usual it was tuned to a cable news station.
The broadcaster, like so many others was talking about the recent terrorist suicide bombings that had happened just a few days earlier. In an obvious effort to draw in higher ratings and fan the flames of hysteria several media outlets had managed to obtain video surveillance footage of the grocery store bombing in Spokane Washington. The clip which had already gone viral on the internet was being played over and over again. It showed a man standing directly in front of someone who John assumed was the store manager. Following a brief exchange of glances the black male had removed a detonator from his pocket. There was a bright white flash and everything on the screen went blank.
The news broadcasters would immediately rewind the footage and show it again and again for a more devastating effect on the viewing audience each and every time. The attacks were further complicated by the startling revelation that one of the terrorist bombers had been a former prisoner at the recently shut down Guantanamo Bay prison facility. A transparent attempt by President Jordan's administration to shift the blame for the release from his office to that of the prior administration’s drew little comment or criticism from the media.
The next bit of news was even more sinister. It involved a letter from an unnamed terrorist organization claiming responsibility for the attacks. The letter which was simply addressed to “Americans” had been sent to several local news stations across the country and had already been read countless times over in TV and posted online. In the meandering and venomous address the writer made statements about no longer tolerating uncivilized Zionist propaganda that was “corrupting” the world. The letter spoke of crushing the Western Countries that had allowed the Israeli “occupation” of the Middle East and creating a new world order to rule the planet without imperialist control. The unknown author had, however saved the most frightening statement for his closing:
Fear for your wellbeing Americans, fear for your very lives. We will rain Jihadist fire down upon you. Your cities will burn and your loved ones will perish. We are everywhere and yet we are nowhere. We are your neighbors, your coworkers, your friends, your family, your school teachers, and even your religious leaders. This moment will be remembered as the bloodiest time in all of history and before our time is over countless scores shall die.
The letter was signed “The Right Hand of Allah” and was disturbing enough to send a shiver down anyone's spine, even the most veteran of officers. Those who were already on the verge of panicking would easily be pushed over the edge by this, while others who were already there were driven into a near state of hysteria. The FBI, CIA, and NGP had all vowed to find the author of the letter, but that seemed unlikely. It had originated somewhere in the Middle East and given the current chaotic and severely weakened status of the United States foreign affairs it was doubtful, even if they were to discover the author of the letter there would be anything the United States could do about it. John felt as if a dark cloak was being laid over the country.
The next story to be discussed was also of an extremely volatile nature. In light of recent events President Jordan had issued a new executive order suspending all level III permits and decreeing the seizure of all firearms from private citizens (those few that still legally owned them). While this action should have been shocking, if John and many others were honest with themselves this act did not come as much of a surprise. After the ratification of the United Nation's “Arms Trade Treaty” in 2016 which helped to ban the civilian ownership of all so called “assault weapons”, it had become law that every citizen within the United States owning a firearm and already possessing the proper level III permit had to also register each and every weapon they owned with the Federal Government, who would then turn that information over to the United Nations for “documentation” purposes. This particular requirement had not gone over well with the now crippled National Rifle Association and many other firearms advocates. However, those groups were powerless to do anything and if a person holding a level III permit were to be found in possession of an unregistered firearm it meant incarceration in federal prison.
Even before the National Preservation Act and the Arms Trade Treaty were signed, stringent regulations on personal ownership of guns had already been in full swing, in part thanks to high gun related crime and an extreme increase in active shooter events by mentally ill individuals. Once the National Preservation Act was passed President Jordan had decided that in the, “best interest of the nation” and in order to curtail gun violence and mass shootings that even more broad sweeping regulations on the ownership of personal weapons needed to be put into place and the “permit system” was immediately establ
ished.
The news anchor spoke of President Jordan and his executive council’s recent conclusion that in order to quell the potential for further and even deadlier terrorist attacks, to curtail the skyrocketing crime rate, and to stop near weekly shooting massacres it had become necessary to “seize” and “destroy” all weapons that were not registered to police, military, or federal organizations. Of course the NGP had been placed in charge of confiscating all these weapons. Vast collections centers were already being established where people would be required to turn in their firearms or face time in federal prison. While many law abiding citizens had already begrudgingly began to comply with the new directive by willing turning over their weapons, countless others had refused. Some had been clever enough to claim that their weapons had suddenly been “lost, stolen, or misplaced.” Either that or they would maintain they had sold their weapons to other “now unknown” private parties years before the national registries that monitored private sales of firearms had been set up.
The situation was further complicated by the refusal of both Texas and Arizona's governors to comply with any federal or UN laws that required the seizure of personal firearms. While several states had already been quite lax in their actual enforcement of federal gun laws, Texas's Governor, Lance Gabriel had gone so far as to instruct his State Police to stop any NGP Officer who attempted to seize personal weapons from the citizens of his state; although a confrontation between the NGP and Texas State Troopers had yet to take place an already tense situation between the State of Texas and the Federal Government had now been strained to the breaking point. Many people believed that it was only a matter of time before Lance Gabriel was either “removed” from his office or the situation between Texas and the US Government spiraled completely out of control.
The last story in the broadcast had an ominous impact upon the criminal justice community. In Savannah Georgia three county magistrates had been taken into federal custody and charged by the National Governing Police with, “Conduct contrary to the interests of the nation” after they had refused to find probable cause for arrests made by several NGP Officers. Even with its leftist bias and spin the news media was having a difficult time explaining away the reasoning behind the federal officers' actions. It was indeed an unprecedented move that sent a chilling message to anyone who dared to question the NGP.
John's attention was immediately pulled away from the news broadcast the moment Jennifer Fields walked through the doorway at the front of the squad room. An eerie hush immediately followed upon her entrance. No good officer trusted the NGP completely and having Wilmington PD’s NGP liaison officer walking amongst them put everyone on edge. Dressed in her field uniform Jennifer strolled through the room with a sultry and confident demeanor and barely glanced at John when she passed by him. She walked with an elegant grace to the back of the room where Chris was seated and casually pulled up a chair next to him.
“Hello there...” she said in smooth voice. While he tried to mask it, Chris was visibly nervous, not out of fear, but instead because he had been noticed by the beautiful National Governing Police officer.
“Hey...” he responded still trying to act confident. The rest of the room was silent except for the TV. Everyone attempted to act as if they were not paying close attention to what Jennifer and Chris were doing at the back of the room.
“How goes your training?” she asked in her smooth and flirty tone.
“Pretty good...” Chris said nodding his head. “...it has its moments.” he then added chuckling nervously; Jennifer smiled as her brown eyes slowly looked Chris over.
John shifted in his chair trying to look as unconcerned as possible while he attempted to get a better view of what was going on between the rookie officer and the NGP seductress behind him. He didn't quite know what Jennifer was up to, but whatever it was made him suspicious. He had never trusted Jennifer and he never would.
After looking at him for another moment Jennifer stood from her chair and slid it back under the table that she and Chris had been seated at.
“Come with me...” she said, which immediately drew a confused look from both Chris and the rest of the officers in the room. From her tone it was difficult for anyone to tell if that was a masked arrest order or a mere statement. Jennifer was openly amused by the innocent and confused look that immediately streaked across Chris's face. She was always game for such things.
Her smile increased and she spoke again, “You're riding with me today.”
“I am?” Chris asked with noticeable surprise.
“Yes...I already cleared it with Sergeant Gelman.” Chris foolishly grinned in pride having no idea what was actually being asked of him. For a rookie officer to be handpicked to ride with an NGP Officer was indeed exciting; at least in his eyes.
Shit... John thought to himself when he heard Jennifer give the order. He did not know what she was up to nor could he do anything to stop her; voicing his opinion would only make matters worse. He merely exchanged worried glances with several of the other officers in the room as Jennifer led Chris out of the room and presumably to her NGP Tahoe.
“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it...” Clarence Manson the preacher turned officer stated the moment he heard the exterior door to the district house close. The quoted Bible verse sent a foreboding sensation throughout the squad. While John had not considered that particular verse his thoughts had harkened to another grim phrase uttered in history by Vladimir Lenin,
Give me a child for the first five years of his life and he will be mine forever.
….
Sergeant Gelman walked through the door located at the front right corner of the squad room and John noted that his mixed black and Hispanic face had an unusually anxious look sketched across it. He walked briskly over to the podium on the left side of the squad room and cleared his throat before he began to speak.
“Couple of things...” he said in an abrupt manner as he glanced down at some paperwork without even bothering to greet his squad. “Four Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Officers were killed this morning during an Occupy Congress demonstration.” There was a growling murmur that immediately ran through the group of officers.
“The reports are still sketchy at best, but apparently several Improvised Explosive Devises were used during the rally which injured several officers and killed four others.” Reading from his paperwork Sergeant Gelman continued, “While Charlotte made numerous arrest, formal charges for the explosives and murders have yet to be filed.” Another verbal rumble of disbelief went through the squad room; the rate of on duty related deaths had already been skyrocketing in the past few months and now things had only managed to get worse. Whereas before one maybe two officers were killed a day nationally, now sometimes a dozen or more would die in just a few days.
“When are we going to stop playing around with these assholes?!” Roger Faulk blurted out angrily and managed to get a few muffled “Yeah’s” from some of the other officers seated around him.
Sergeant Gelman shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “Not sure...” he said, “...Many of the command staffers that are dealing with these situations are completely outside their element and are requesting the help of the NGP. Seems like they either want the federal government to come in and make decisions for them or handle the situation entirely so that they are not held civilly liable later on.”
“But, at the same time they want to remain in control of their department and its officers.” Todd Sorrells said in a slightly annoyed voice. “They want all of the power, but none of the responsibility.” The veteran officer growled.
John could not help, but agree. He had bitterly observed a lack of decision making ability on Wilmington's command staff and the Chief of Police's part when it came to numerous tense situations. Moreover rumors of Chief Stickel's verbal castration in front of several officers by an NGP lieutenant during the latest Occupy Congress gathering were already spreading r
apidly. Nevertheless, the Chief still moved about the department's hallways with the same superior and polished demeanor that he had always maintained. It was well known among the line officers that Stickel was a smooth politician who would smile and shake your hand when he saw you, but was more than willing to stab you in the back the moment your guard was down. John remembered a time while he had been on training when he had been told by a veteran officer never to trust anyone above the rank of lieutenant. While he had not particularly liked that statement he could not help, but concede to its wisdom in the harsh reality of the times.
“And there's one more thing.” Sergeant Gelman stated appearing to be a bit more apprehensive and breaking John's train of thought.
“Due to the recent terrorist attacks an executive order directly from the president has come down to all law enforcement agencies across the country.” Gelman paused for another moment glancing down at his notes before continuing, “Anyone found to be in possession of ANY type of religious material is to be detained, searched, and a Field Interview Report is to be completed.”
There was an immediate and surprised gasp from several officers followed by a few, “What's?!” from a few more of the men in the room.
Continuing to read from his notes Gelman added, “Religious material is to include, but not be limited to books such as the Bible, Torah, Qur'an, Book of Mormon, various Hindu or Taoism texts, or anything else that by its nature or existence could be construed as religious in nature.” Grumbling statements ran through the group of officers as Gelman paused one last time before continuing.
“If necessary, officers are authorized to arrest for conduct contrary to the interests of the nation should they encounter resistance during their investigation.”
“This is total bullshit!” Roger blurted out and immediately received a chastising look from his sergeant. A committed Atheist, Roger had never given much time to, nor did he have much interest in religion. In fact, he found the entire premise to be extremely foolish, however foolish or not even he believed that people had the right to believe in what they wanted. He obviously thought that these types of measures seemed to go well outside the realm of ethical.