Broken Shield

by Ryan Garner

  She could call her pimp Jerald to come pick her up, but God only knew what he might or might not do to her for inconveniencing him. At this early hour he was more than likely still passed out from the prior night's activities. The same would be true for the rest of her “friends” if she could even call them that. Samantha was running out of options and her headache was only getting worse as she racked her brain trying to decide what to do.

  Suddenly, an idea came to mind. Reaching into the front pocket of her tight jeans she retrieved a bent up and dirty business card. On the front of the card was the embossed image of the Wilmington Police Department's badge. Across the top of the card was a blue line and in white lettering the words, “Wilmington Police Department” were printed. There was a generic address and phone number written in the center right portion of the card and then at the bottom left hand corner below the image of the badge the name, “Officer John Lawrence” was printed in block lettering. Samantha flipped the card over and saw the phone number that John had scribbled onto the back. She assumed it was his personal cell phone number. She debated on whether or not she should call him. This wasn't exactly a police matter, or at least not one that she wanted the police to get involved in, but she was running out of options. No, she couldn't call him...could she?

  ….

  John was jarred awake by the sound of his phone. It had been so long since he had gotten several hours of solid sleep he was momentarily disoriented. He only knew it was early, possibly just after dawn. Then he saw Karina sleeping next to him and the prior nights events immediately came streaking back into his memory. He couldn't help, but smile when he saw her lying there on his pillow. He had to remind himself that the phone was still ringing and he quickly reached for his bedside table hoping that the electronic sound had not disturbed Karina.

  “Hello?” he said in a muffled and tired voice.

  “John?”

  “Yeah...” he responded glancing at the caller ID on his phone's LCD display. The name “Todd Sorrells” appeared on the screen.

  What's he calling me for? John asked himself.

  “Where are you?” Todd asked.

  “I'm at home.” John responded in a confused voice. Where else would I be at this hour seeing as how I no longer have a job? He then asked himself.

  “Is Karina with you?”

  This question took John completely off guard. How would he know this? For that matter why would he even be asking such a question? His sex life wasn't exactly something Todd had ever shown any kind of interest in knowing about before. More importantly why would anyone on his squad want to know the whereabouts of Karina? John stayed quiet for a moment and did not immediately answer the question. Noticing the hesitation in his response Todd reworded his question.

  “Karina's not at her apartment is she?” he then asked allowing John to be a bit vaguer in his response.

  “No, not as far as I know...why are you asking me this?” he said.

  There was a pause and John could tell that Todd was attempting to choose his words wisely.

  “We got an alert last night off one of our Shotspotters. It picked up automatic submachine gun fire coming from an apartment complex.”

  Shotspotter was an electronic gun tracking system that had been deployed throughout New Hanover County several years ago. Using digital listening devices scattered throughout the area it not only allowed the police to triangulate the location of gunshots or explosions to within a few feet and within seconds of the incident occurring, but it could at times even determine the caliber or type of explosive material used in the event. It had helped to contribute to a multitude of arrests since its deployment. The system was so sensitive that it could even track individuals out into the wooded county should they choose to go out there to hunt or target practice with “illegal” firearms. This had in turn forced many firearms enthusiasts to travel to neighboring counties that did not have this technology when they wished to practice with their prohibited weapons.

  “By the time we got there the place was crawling with NGP.” Todd said.

  “Yeah? What are you telling me this for?” John asked.

  “Karina lives in The Creek Apartment Complex doesn't she?” Todd then asked and John felt his heart sink.

  “Yeah, she does...why?”

  “They were at her apartment John...the NGP. They had conducted some sort of special raid the night before based on a tip they wouldn’t tell us about. The on scene lieutenant whose last name was Fearon told us one suspect was killed by the entry team.”

  Tiffany... John immediately thought to himself as a sickening feeling settled into his stomach.

  “I just figured you should know...just in case.” Todd said.

  John was still in shock, but managed a response, “Yeah…yeah thanks...I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” Todd said. “Take care of yourself John.” He then added before the line was disconnected.

  John took in a breath of air and then slowly let out a long sigh as he carefully placed the phone down onto his nightstand. He then looked over and saw Karina still sleeping peacefully next to him. After everything she and Tiffany had been through and after everything that had just occurred, how was he going to tell her about this?

  ….

  “305Charles...Wilmington 3...10-38 (traffic stop).” Nicholas Massey said into his radio handset as he cruised behind a brown older model Oldsmobile Cutlass.

  “305Charles, go ahead.” The female dispatcher said back to Massey.

  “305Charles will be 10-38 (traffic stop) with Robert-Tom-George, 3-4-7-2 on Dawson, just east of 17th Ave.” Massey stated using the alphanumeric coding to call out the letters on the vehicle's license plate.

  “10-4, 305Charles, on Dawson just east of 17th.” The dispatcher replied back to the officer.

  After activating the blue lights on his patrol car both vehicles slowly pulled over to a stop along the side of Dawson Street. The hot mid-morning sun produced an eerie orange glow about the urbanized area as dispersed crowds of people milled about the numerous storefronts that included a pawn shop, a few restaurants, along with several abandoned establishments. When Massey made his traffic stop quite a few of the individuals in the crowd took notice. Some looked on with curiosity while others viewed the police presence with animosity. It was not usual for this number of people to be out this early. Without jobs, where else did they have to go? The answer was nowhere and that often times led to trouble.

  Officer Nicolas Massey slowly approached the rear portion of the run down motor vehicle and made his way up along the side of the car to the driver's window. He was not unlike many other officers on the force; a tall white male, in his mid-thirties, with brown hair, and green eyes. Of course you couldn’t see his eyes thanks to the dark sunglasses he wore.

  “Hello sir, I'm Officer Massey, may I see your driver's license and registration please?” Massey asked as he carefully leaned towards the driver's side window of the dirty vehicle.

  The man sitting behind the steering wheel, a thin, younger black male in an oversized white tank top and blue jeans gave him a barely audible, “Yeah...” as he leaned over to the glove box to retrieve the vehicle's registration. Next to the driver was another black man, a little older than the driver and a bit on the heavy side as well. He was dressed a little more professionally in a dark red, short sleeve polo shirt, and blue jeans. Both the driver and the passenger inside the vehicle were sweating profusely. Massey assumed that the air conditioning in the vehicle that was probably more than twenty years old was no longer working.

  Pushing aside scraps of paper and other various articles the driver searched until he finally found the worn out registration. With so much junk crammed into the glove box Massey was surprised the driver was able to find anything in there. The young man then retrieved his ID from his back pocket and handed it over to Massey. The ID was heavily weathered and barely legible, but Massey could immediately see that what the driver had just handed him was not a d
river's license. Instead it was just a regular North Carolina ID with the name Darnell Morris printed on the white plastic card.

  “Do you not have a driver's license?” Massey asked

  “Nah,” Darnell stated, “...but it's cool though, I'm staying with my boy right up the street. That's where I'm headed now.”

  Massey crinkled his brow at Darnell's seemingly dismissive attitude towards driving with no license. It wasn't a huge crime, but his flippant response told him something about the young man’s personality.

  “Where does your boy stay?” Massey asked.

  “Just up the road.” Darnell said as he pointed. “I can’t remember the name of the street, but it’s not far.”

  “How did you expect to find your boy’s place if you don’t know where he lives?”

  “Why'd you stop us?” The passenger interrupted, cutting off the officer as he leaned over from the passenger’s side of the vehicle in order to get a better look at Massey.

  “The tags to this vehicle are expired, it’s got no insurance, and your back right tail light is burned out.” Massey responded.

  “Oh...” The passenger said.

  “This isn't my car though.” Darnell stated. “It's my boy's car; he was just letting me use it so I could go pick up my uncle from work.”

  “Your boy…the one that you're staying with?” Massey asked doing his best not to laugh at the humor of the situation.

  “Yeah, it's his car. He's had it forever.”

  “You see officer...” the passenger said, “My driver's license is revoked so my nephew here was just trying to help me out by picking me up from work.”

  “But he doesn't have a driver's license either.” Both of the occupants of the vehicle looked at each other in seemingly stunned silence at the accuracy of Massey's observation.

  “Do you have your ID on you sir?” he asked the passenger.

  “Yeah...yeah, I got it right here.” the passenger said as he pulled out his wallet and retrieved a plastic ID card. His was only slightly less faded and worn out than Darnell's. After pulling the ID free from the wallet he leaned over and handed it to Massey who immediately looked it over; the name Walter Smith was printed on the ID.

  “Is there anything else I need to know about?” Massey asked before continuing, “Nothing in the car that’s not supposed to be there and nothing on your record either?”

  “Nah, man, nah, I’m cool.” Darnell stated as he shook his head.

  “Okay...wait here a minute.” Massey said as he took a few steps backwards away from the driver's side window before doing an about face and heading back to his patrol car.

  ….

  Massey scanned over the information that was displayed on his laptop computer screen. Darnell Morris had numerous arrests for a multitude of different criminal violations and currently had one outstanding warrant for a failure to appear on a no operator’s license charge. His adult criminal history began back when he was 16 with larceny and resisting arrest charges and progressed onward until this current warrant. There was nothing particularly violent about his past, primarily just vehicular traffic, theft, and drug violations. Still Massey felt better when he observed another patrol car pulling in behind his; especially since the number of people milling about in the area seemed to be growing larger by the second.

  ….

  Andrew Lee, an Asian Officer with black hair and brown eyes who was slim and in his later twenties stepped out of his Police Charger and then made his way up along the side of Massey's patrol car, rapping his knuckles on the sheet metal side of the vehicle to alert the other officer to his presence. When he reached the driver's side window Massey rolled it down.

  “What have you got?” he asked.

  “Something we don’t have time for, but have to deal with anyways...” Massey stated, “Just some traffic violations and an FTA (Failure to Appear) for a no operator’s license charge.”

  Andrew nodded his head and stepped backwards as Massey opened the driver's side door and both individuals walked towards the old and battered Oldsmobile Cutlass.

  “Sir I'm going to need you to put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers.” Massey said when he arrived at the suspect’s window.

  “For what?” Darnell asked immediately.

  “Yeah, he didn't do noth’n...” Walter Smith responded as he again leaned over towards the driver's side window.

  “I just need you to do that for me and then we'll talk more in a minute.” Darnell let out a defeated sigh and did as the officer had instructed. Massey opened the door to the car and firmly grabbed Darnell's interlaced fingers, effectively locking them together with one hand when he did this.

  “Go ahead and step out of the vehicle.” Massey stated as he carefully guided him out of the car being sure to keep Darnell facing away from him.

  “What's all this for?” Darnell asked.

  “There's a warrant out for your arrest.” Massey responded. “You're going to have to come with us.”

  “What?” Darnell stated in a shocked voice as Massey took hold of his right hand and brought it to the small of his back and ratcheted a handcuff blade around his wrist. There was the clicking sound of handcuff teeth locking together as this happened. Trapped between the car, its open door, and Massey, Darnell had nowhere to run to even if he planned to do so.

  “What's the warrant for?” he asked.

  “Failure to appear on a no operator's license charge.” Andrew replied to Darnell as Massey secured his left hand behind his back with the handcuffs.

  “Wait, that's bullshit man, my lawyer took care of that for me.”

  Massey shrugged his shoulders slightly. Darnell might very well have been telling the truth. It wouldn't be the first time a lawyer had dropped the ball and his client had been arrested for it. It happened more often than most defense attorneys cared to admit.

  “That may be true sir, but you're still gonna have to come with us so we can sort this whole thing out.” Massey said as he took hold of Darnell's right bicep and began to lead him back towards his patrol car.

  “Wait! He didn't do noth’n!” Smith shouted from the interior of the Oldsmobile. A second later he opened the passenger side door of the car and nearly jumped out.

  “He told you his lawyer done took care of that for him! I was there when it happened. Ya'll can't arrest him! He ain't got no warrants!!” Smith hollered loudly enough for everyone in the surrounding area to hear him. The crowd milling about in the area around the officers was still growing larger and now they were beginning to advance in on Massey and Andrew’s position.

  “Sir, as we told him, New Hanover County has a warrant for his arrest and he has to come with us. It may be a mistake on his lawyer's part, but we don't know that, so he just has to come with us...now get back in the car and we'll come talk to you in a minute.” Andrew stated to Smith as Massey continued to walk Darnell back towards the patrol car.

  “No! I ain't getting back in the damn car!” Smith shouted. “Ya'll are arrested my nephew for no reason!!” Smith turned away from the Oldsmobile and faced the crowd.

  “Are ya'll seen'n this shit! They arresting my nephew for no damn reason! He was just trying to bring me home from my work and they arresting him on some bullshit charges that got dismissed a long time ago!!”

  “That's wrong man!!” Someone from the crowd yelled.

  “They discriminating against you!” a female voice shouted.

  “It's because you're black!!” Another man shouted as the crowd that was composed mostly of black males and some females continued to move in towards the two police vehicles.

  “Sir, get back in the car now!” Andrew yelled as he turned away from Massey and took a few steps towards Smith.

  “See!! They gonna arrest me now!” Smith shouted to the crowd. “They probably gonna beat me before they take me in and say I resisted arrest.”

  People in the crowd that was still continuing to grow larger were now shouting and booing at the
officers. The situation was on the verge of spinning completely out of control.

  Andrew quickly moved towards Smith, “Get back in the car sir, or I will arrest you for obstructing our investigation and inciting a riot.”

  “You see ya'll!! It's oppression all over again!” Smith shouted to the crowd as it became more unruly. “First they be taking our welfare money away from us so the rich white man can get richer while our children go hungry and now they just gonna arrest us if we don't submit to them!!!”

  Andrew walked up to smith, “Put your hands behind your back, you're under arrest.” He said in an authoritative voice.

  “I ain't done noth’n! You can't arrest me! You ain't taking me to jail!!” Smith shouted back at Andrew. “This is racist!!” he then shouted.

  Andrew grabbed Smith by the wrist and twisted his arm around forcing Smith towards the car.

  “False arrest!!” Smith screamed at the top of his lungs. “Police brutality!!!” he shouted. “I hope ya'll are videoing this false arrest so I can sue these mother fuckers later!!” Several onlookers had already been using their cell phones to record everything soon after Smith had begun to shout.

  “The NAACP will have them fired!!!” A female voice hollered.

  “Fuck the police!!!” someone else shouted. The crowd was only half a dozen or so yards away from Andrew and Massey's position now and it was readily apparent things had taken a turn for the worst. Plastic bottles and trash began to be thrown at Andrew as he finished handcuffing Smith and pulled him back to his patrol car.

  “Fuck the police!! Fuck the police!!” the crowd was chanting.

  “Die pigs die!!!” other’s shouted.

  “Trayvon!!!” more cried out.

  Massey reached up and grabbed his radio handset that was clipped to his right shoulder's lapel and depressed the talk button.

  “Wilmington! Send us some check-ins to Dawson and 17th Ave...”

  His statement was suddenly cut off as an empty glass liquor bottle that had been hurled from somewhere in the crowd struck him in the forehead and exploded into numerous pieces, breaking his sunglasses in half and sending glass shards everywhere. With no time to release the transmit button on his radio everyone in the entire city heard Massey cry out in pain as his hands then immediately moved to cover his face and he momentarily let go of Darnell who quickly took advantage of the situation and sprinted away still with his hands cuffed behind his back. Massey was momentarily blinded by both the broken pieces of glass that were now in his eyes and the blood that was pouring out of the gash in his forehead.