Playing the Game

by Graysen Morgen

As they made their way towards the tunnel, Randi glanced around, looking for the person she knew wasn’t there.

  “Why wasn’t she here?” Carrie asked, watching her line of sight.

  Randi shrugged. “I’m hungry. You want to split a pizza or something?”

  “Sure. My house or yours?”

  “Yours,” Randi said as they entered the tunnel. “I’ll be over as soon as I leave here.”

  “Okay…” Carrie raised a brow. She’d expected Olivia to come with her, and went to ask why she wasn’t coming along, but Randi had already joined in the team celebration in the locker room.

  *

  Carrie pulled open the door to her townhouse as soon as Randi rang the bell. The pizza hadn’t arrived yet.

  “Why do I feel like this is going to be a long night?”

  “What do you have to drink?” Randi asked, walking in and setting her keys and phone on the table.

  “Water and tea I brewed earlier. There’s also a bottle of wine, and maybe a beer or two. There might be some liquor in the freezer. What kind of drink are you looking for?”

  “One that says Olivia and I split up. We’re currently living together as roommates.”

  “Oh, my God. Are you serious?”

  “Yep.”

  “She found out about Berkley, didn’t she?”

  “No. She has no idea. I realized we were already living like that and pointed it out to her. She agreed. It was actually really easy, which is still a little weird. I didn’t say anything about Berkley. There’s no need to hurt her. Especially when that’s over anyway.”

  “I take it you haven’t seen her.”

  “Nope. She wouldn’t take my calls.”

  “Do you blame her? You were in a relationship when the two of you slept together.”

  “Well, I’m not now…not that it matters.”

  Carrie shook her head and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You’d never know you guys had split. Nothing has changed between you…at least as far as the team is concerned. When did all of this happen?”

  “A week ago tomorrow, and that’s just it. Nothing has changed period, except we’re sleeping in different rooms.” Randi pulled a stool out and sat down. “You were right,” she sighed. “We were both lost in a complacent relationship that was nothing but a deep-rooted friendship in the end.”

  “What happens now?”

  “Get over all of this and get back to being me, I guess,” Randi said, crossing her arms.

  “Isn’t there a saying, ‘To get over a woman, get under another one?’ That’s my brother’s motto, anyway.”

  “I’m pretty sure I did that already.”

  “Yeah…oops.” Carrie scrunched her face. “Well, you played a great game tonight, so there’s that.”

  Randi laughed.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “This must be serious.”

  “Not really. I just wondered what it was about Berkley that drew you to her. I mean, I’ve seen her. She’s not my type, but she’s attractive, I won’t deny that.”

  Randi uncrossed her arms and clasped her hands together on top of the counter. “At first, it was flirty fun with a hot chic. But, the more time I spent with her, the more I realized how different she was. Do you know we’ve never once talked about soccer or police work? I’ve never hung around anyone outside of soccer, except my family. And I’ve always dated soccer players.”

  “I think that’s what drew me to Anna. She’s my life outside of soccer. It’s nice to have that.”

  “I agree.”

  “Open that bottle of wine,” Carrie said, seeing her phone light up with the doorbell camera. “The pizza is here.”

  “Pizza and wine, just like the old college days,” Randi chuckled.

  “At least it’s not boxed wine,” Carrie replied.

  “Or Boone’s Farm!” they said together, laughing hysterically.

  40

  Berkley got on her motorcycle and flipped the ignition switch on before pressing the button to start the engine, which came to life with a throaty growl. She twisted the throttle to rev it a couple of times, then waved to her friends before putting it in gear and driving off with a belly full of waffles and bacon from their breakfast.

  A mile away, she rolled to a stop at the red light and a young blonde in a convertible Mustang with the top down, pulled up beside her. She smiled and licked her lips seductively in Berkley’s direction as she revved her engine.

  I can’t tell if you want to fuck or race, Berkley thought, watching her intently before shaking her head. The girl gave her a pouty look before smiling once more. When the light turned green, she lit up the tires, squealing them several feet as she took off down the road, but not before Berkley got a good look at her license plate.

  “I’ll see you again,” she muttered as she drove off, doing the speed limit. She nearly turned down the side road that would take her to The Grind, but changed her mind and continued home.

  *

  “Hey, stranger,” Paul said when Randi walked into his coffee shop. “You want the usual with a muffin?”

  She thought for a second. Would Olivia want a muffin? Was she even home? Randi had no idea. She’d spent the night at Carrie’s after consuming too much wine and had decided to stop for coffee on her way home the next morning. You’re not together anymore. You’re not obligated to bring her breakfast. “Just the coffee today, and make it a triple,” she finally answered.

  “Long night?” he teased.

  “Something like that.” She smiled, turning to look out at the parking lot.

  “She hasn’t been in here in a couple of weeks,” he said somberly, sliding her cup across the counter to her. “I read in the paper she recently became Richey’s first-ever female SWAT officer. I guess she’s been pretty busy.”

  “Yeah,” she muttered, swiping her card on the machine. “Thanks, Paul.”

  “Have a good one,” he replied as she left.

  Randi started the car and switched the radio through several stations, bypassing commercials and love songs. “The hell with it,” she grumbled, turning it off before backing out of her parking space. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts all the way home, so she rolled the windows down and let the hot Texas air fill the car.

  *

  Olivia’s SUV was in the garage when Randi opened the door and pulled in next to it. She wondered if she should feel something different, maybe even sadness for the love they’d once shared.

  “Did you stay out all night?” Olivia asked when Randi walked in through the kitchen. She was sitting on a barstool at the island, eating a piece of toast with a mountain of jam on it.

  Randi nodded as she set her keys and phone down. “Are we going to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Question each other.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just noticed you weren’t here when you walked in.” She pushed her empty plate aside. “Randi, you can come and go as you please. We’re just roommates now, remember?”

  “I guess I’m still getting used to that…this,” she sighed, pulling out a stool and sitting next to her. “I was at Carrie’s, by the way. We drank too much wine.”

  “I figured,” Olivia laughed.

  “You didn’t think I was out with another woman?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Why? Is there someone else?”

  Randi wasn’t sure how to answer that. She thought about it for a second, then said, “No.”

  “There was though. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I’m sorry,” Randi said, looking at her chocolate brown eyes.

  “Don’t be. We needed to come to an end. How we got there doesn’t really matter at this point,” Olivia said. “I won’t say it doesn’t sting a little, but that’s only temporary. We had some pretty good years together.”

  “Yeah, we did,” Randi agreed.

  *

&nb
sp; Berkley checked her watch as she pulled off the road to catch up on some paperwork for speeding tickets she’d written near the start of her shift. It was barely eleven p.m. and she still had eight hours to go in her shift.

  “South 5—Code 11, Sherman Oaks Mobile Home Park. REPEAT: Code 11, Sherman Oaks Mobile Home Park,” the dispatcher said across the radio.

  The tiny hairs on the back of Berkley’s neck stood up. A Code 11 was a call for all SWAT team members. She tossed her paperwork into the passenger seat and grabbed the mic on the side of the computer as she scanned the map on the screen that had a bright red dot blinking.

  “327—responding, Code 11,” she radioed as she threw the car in gear and sped away with her lights flashing and sirens wailing. The call was on the other side of town, and nowhere near her district. Her heart thumped against her chest, pumping adrenaline-fueled blood through her body with every beat.

  Most cars pulled over and came to a stop, others just changed lanes, allowing her to pass by. Once she was clear of intersection traffic, she increased her speed once more, racing down the side roads until she came upon the neighborhood she was looking for. She turned her lights and sirens off as she turned in, following the main road around to the back where four police cruisers were parked. She pulled up behind them and threw the car in park.

  “327—on scene,” she radioed before getting out and walking around to the trunk of her car.

  “There’s a sixty-year-old male threatening to kill himself in the fourth trailer down on the left. The one with the red truck in the driveway,” Sergeant Jones said, walking up to her.

  “Is he alone?” she asked as she removed her uniform shirt and bulletproof vest, trading them for the SWAT tactical vest that went over the black dri-fit shirt she always wore under her uniform.

  “We aren’t sure. All we know is he has several guns, including high powered hunting rifles. Right now, our job is to clear all of the trailers around his. A bullet could easily travel through the walls of one and into another one, or possibly more. I want you and McGill to clear the trailer directly across from his, and the one just on the opposite side of that one. Send anyone you find to the next street over. We have a patrol officer shuttling everyone to the front of the park. There is a staging area up there.”

  “10-4,” she said, switching her radio to the channel they were using as she looked around for Connor McGill. She’d met him before, so she knew she was looking for a young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed officer with a muscular build. The other SWAT members had nicknamed him: Pretty Boy because he was always well groomed with perfect hair and perfect teeth, and he still had a babyface.

  It was near midnight, so it was fairly dark outside, despite the street lights illuminating various areas. She found him at his patrol car, loading his rifle.

  “You ready to do this?” she asked, stepping up next to him.

  “Yeah, you?”

  “I’m good. Let’s go,” she said.

  He closed his trunk and fell in step next to her. “If you want to do the knocking, I’ll back you up,” he said, putting his rifle strap over his shoulder.

  “That’s fine,” she replied, as they backtracked and cut across to the next street over. She counted in her head as they walked along the street. “This is the first location.”

  Connor gave her the signal and stood back with his rifle ready as she put her hand on her Glock and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a young woman opened the door with a small child clinging to her leg.

  “Ma’am, we’re with Richey Police Department. We need you to come with us, now.”

  “What’s going on? Why are there cops everywhere?” she said.

  “There’s a situation with one of your neighbors. Are you the only two occupants of the home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need you to come with us right now.” Berkley waited a split second, then moved closer to the woman. “Listen to me, it’s for your own safety.”

  “Janie, get your blanket and your cup. We have to go with these nice officers. Okay, baby?” the woman said to the little girl.

  “Send the car down,” Berkley radioed.

  A police cruiser began backing down the road with the lights completely off while Berkley and Connor shielded the woman and her child. When the car stopped, Berkley opened the door and ushered them inside.

  “Drive up a hundred yards and hangout a second. We’re going to the residence next door,” Connor said to the officer behind the wheel. Then, he looked at Berkley and gave the hand signal to move on to the next location.

  Together, they moved stealthily through the dark, avoiding the streetlights and any noise that would give them away. When they arrived at the back door, Berkley knocked softly. She stepped back and waited, but nothing happened.

  Connor signaled to knock again, which she did, a little harder this time. Suddenly, what looked like every single light in the trailer came on.

  “Shit,” Connor whispered.

  The door swung open and Berkley heard the distinct pop, pop, pop of gunfire. She grabbed the old man at the door, flinging him to the ground with her body on top of his as Connor took a position behind the nearest tree with his rifle positioned on the trailer across the street.

  “Shots fired! Everyone, hold your positions!” Lieutenant Sullivan, the SWAT team commander radioed.

  “Where did it come from?” Connor radioed to Berkley as the patrol car sped off with the woman and young child.

  Berkley felt around. The man with her didn’t have anything in his hands. “Has to be across the road,” she replied.

  “Cover me. I’m coming to you,” he said.

  Berkley slid to the side and backed up against the wall with her gun drawn. She could see the trailer across the road. It was too dark to see movement in the windows.

  Connor dove inside the trailer and stayed down low. “We need to get these damn lights off,” he said, crouching down and moving around the room to unplug the lights.

  The older gentleman began to get up off the floor.

  “Sir, you have to stay on your belly, okay?”

  “Who the hell are you people?” he asked.

  “We’re with Richey Police Department. One of your neighbors is shooting a gun.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s that crazy son of a bitch across the road,” he muttered. “I heard he was getting evicted. It’s about damn time.”

  “Does he live alone?” Berkley asked.

  “Yeah, but his on and off girlfriend Wilma or Wanda or some shit like that, is there from time to time.”

  “Is she there now?”

  “How the hell would I know? I was sound asleep until you were banging on my door. My hearing isn’t too good anymore.”

  “Does she have a car or anything?”

  “Yeah. She drives an old green Pontiac. She’s not there during the week. She works at the titty bar as a bartender.”

  Berkley got on her radio, giving the new information to the lieutenant.

  “I didn’t see a car,” Connor said.

  “Me either.”

  “Walter Hicks, you need to put your guns down and come outside with your hands up,” Sergeant Jones called over the megaphone.

  Everyone waited in position, but nothing happened for several minutes. Another SWAT officer continued calling the man’s phone, but it just rang and went to voicemail. Sergeant Jones made another call over the megaphone that went unanswered.

  Berkley checked her watch. It was nearly one a.m. “Do you think he took himself out?” she said, looking at Connor.

  “I don’t know. Could be he’s waiting for us to make a move. Or…he’s dead as a doornail and we’re wasting our time. You know the SWAT motto: Hurry up and wait.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re popping smoke. Everyone, hold your positions. Team one, move in on my count. Team two, hold your positions, but be ready to back them up.”

  “10-4,” ever
yone radioed back.

  One of the SWAT officers tossed a flashbang through the window. It exploded with an ear-piercing sound. Nothing happened inside.

  “Breach!” the lieutenant radioed.

  Two officers kicked in the front door and rushed inside, while two more went in the backdoor.

  “One deceased male in the living room, gunshot wound to the right temple. The rest of the residence is clear,” one of the officers radioed.

  Berkley and Connor got up off the floor.

  “They found him,” she said to the older man.

  “He shot himself, didn’t he?”

  “I can’t give any details. Sorry. The scene is safe. That’s all we know,” she replied before following Connor out the door. They quickly caught up with the rest of the team.

  “It’s a mess in there,” Sergeant Jones stated, shaking his head.

  Berkley shook her head. She’d been to a couple of homicide scenes and a handful of car accidents with instant deaths. They never got any easier.

  “All of team two is being dismissed. You guys head home, or back to your districts if you’re one shift,” he said.

  “Until next time, Ward,” Connor held his hand out.

  “Yep,” she replied, shaking it. Then, she headed back to her cruiser to remove her tactical gear and get her regular vest and uniform shirt back on.

  41

  Randi spent most of the week going to practice as if nothing had changed. In truth, she went through her usual routine. She and Olivia had different media schedules, and their practices were quite different. It wasn’t unusual for them to take separate cars.

  “Have you ever been somewhere, but wanted to be somewhere else?” Carrie muttered as she laced up her cleats.

  “Tons of times. Where do you want to be right now?” Randi replied, sipping her sports drink.

  “On a beach in Hawaii.”

  “Oh…I’m with you there.” Randi smiled.

  “Hey, I heard Olivia signed a deal with Adidas.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Saw it on her Instagram.”