Broken Shield Read online

  The room was unimpressive; just a rectangular box approximately 25x15 feet in square footage. Several narrow and elongated tables with metal and plastic chairs located behind them were positioned in rows facing the head of the room where a wooden podium and a large flat screen TV hung from the wall. A web camera was mounted next to the TV. To his right and pushed up against the wall were more tables, computers, printers, and a smaller flat screen TV. Mounted above the tables a bulletin board had a collection of paperwork affixed to it, most of which consisted of wanted posters and officer safety alerts.

  The opposite wall of the squad room was painted royal blue. Written in gold calligraphic writing across the top were the words:

  “Ninety-two percent of the world are sheep, six percent are wolves, and two percent are sheep dogs…Welcome to the kennel!”

  It was a saying that had always made John smile.

  Several officers were already seated at various locations around the squad room. Christian, or “Chris” Hesser the newest recruit on the squad was seated by himself near the back of the room. He was staring hard at a sleek black and silver Dell laptop resting in front of him. More than likely he was agonizing over a report in which his training officer, Eric Morrisey had informed him “something” was wrong with, but had neglected to give him any guidance on what his error might be. John and Chris had worked together a few times when Morrisey had not been present and he had decided that Chris seemed to be a pretty good rookie; green around the edges yes; but a good guy none the less. He pitied Chris for having to work with Eric Morrisey who was seated one table ahead of him. John had always found Morrisey to be lazy and at times condescending. Over the years they had both clashed several times on matters of proper procedure and as to what should be done in particular situations. Though he had never done anything immoral or unethical, Morrisey always seemed to choose the path of least resistance. John, on the other hand, routinely picked the more difficult route. A few times this had earned him praise, but more often than not it was a source of stress in John’s life.

  Sitting more towards the front of the room was Clarence Manson, a black man of average height and build who was in his mid-thirties. John had been told some time ago that Manson was an assistant pastor at a local church on the weekends…well the weekends that the squad actually had off that is. Somewhat quiet, but with an unexpected capacity to be very boisterous at times, Manson maintained a professional relationship with John and they rarely spoke of their personal lives to each other. However, John had learned that Clarence Manson had a young daughter approximately eight or nine years old and a wife to whom he had been married to from a relatively young age.

  Across from Clarence sat Roger Faulk. Standing at least 6’0” tall with slightly tanned skin, he had a solid muscular build, and a completely shaved head. Tattoos ran from Roger’s wrists all the way up both of his arms. He had been a Marine before President Jordan had ordered the Corps to be drastically reduced in size in order to help reduce “surplus” military spending. It was shortly after this distasteful event that Roger had joined the Wilmington Police force. John had found him to be arrogant and downright haughty at times. He had also learned that Roger Faulk could carry a grudge for quite some time. An intimidating and good officer to have as a check in when a physical confrontation was likely John and Roger did their best to avoid each other in all non-police related situations.

  Behind Faulk, was Todd Sorrells, a beat officer with well over twenty years of experience under his belt. Before beginning his stint at Wilmington PD fifteen years ago Todd had been employed by several other police departments and law enforcement agencies around the country, before that he served with the US Army as a Ranger. He was just a few years away from retirement and even though he had expressed some apprehension about his role in life after leaving police work, he was still looking forward to easier days. A heavy set man in his early fifties with black and gray hair, Todd more than filled out his uniform. His appearance might be less than ideal, but at this stage in his career he had decided to leave the “looks” department up to the younger, fitter officers such as John, Chris, and Roger. Even though John was a loner by nature, of all the men on the squad, he got along with Todd the best. He nodded at Sorrells as he made his way through the rows of tables and chairs and sat down somewhere near the middle of the room.

  John turned his attention to the small flat screen TV located on one of the tables that had been pushed against the wall. It was tuned to a news station and the broadcaster was speaking on several different topics. Being several minutes early John had time to watch. The first story that was being reported on was the shocking account of an Israeli air strike on Iran’s capital, Tehran. The assault had been retaliation for a joint Hamas/Iranian anthrax suicide bombing in Tel Aviv that had killed and seriously injured thousands of innocent people.

  No longer able to rely on support from the US or any of its western allies and learning of other similar plots against it, Israel’s Prime Minister had ordered the devastating retaliatory assault. The somewhat smarmy news broadcaster expressed visible disgust with Israel’s use of a modified neutron bomb that had decimated nearly a quarter of Tehran’s population. The attack had shocked the world, but at least for the moment it had stalled any further assault against Israel. The entire Middle East region was now in an extreme state of tension, more so than it had ever experienced before. The news anchor informed the viewing audience that there was already talk of retaliation by both Russia and China. He also noted that President Jamal Jordan had publicly condemned Israel’s retaliatory strike. Notably there was little to no mention of the Israeli casualties suffered in the first strike by the Iranian backed terrorists.

  The next report dealt with several Occupy Congress protests around the country that had turned into violent riots. Local law enforcement had been ill equipped to handle situations of such magnitude. The NGP and in some instances the National Guard and military had responded in order to quell these civil disturbances. John was unsure how he felt about this. He understood the need to bring about an end to violent, uncontrolled protests, but on the other hand he distrusted the NGP along with other governmental “forces”.

  The news reports continued its dismal accounts by chronicling various suicide bombings that had occurred in Europe. Several Muslim extremist groups had already come forward and claimed responsibility for these actions.

  The next story discussed was the growing friction between Japan and a newly unified communist Korea. Shortly after the United States had withdrawn its military forces from South Korea, the forcible Korean unification had occurred. Within a few months of the US pullout North Korean forces had moved through the demilitarized zone and invaded. Without the help from its Western allies, Seoul had fallen in a matter of days and the rest of the country within a month.

  Next the program turned to a topic much closer to home. The news anchor spoke of Texas Governor Lance Gabriel’s fervid opposition to what the Governor claimed was unjustified federal infringement and incursion upon his state’s rights. Since many local administrations had been stripped of much of their authority by the National Preservation Act Governor Gabriel had become one of President Jordan’s most vocal opponents. The news cut to stock footage of the middle aged Governor Gabriel addressing members of President Jordan’s Executive council. A white male in his late thirties to early forties Lance Gabriel was tall with a stocky build and muscular shoulders. Even though he was slightly overweight he still carried himself with confidence. Like many viewers, John suspected that the Executive Council was paying the Governor little more than lip service; in fact he would not be surprised if Gabriel were removed from his position within the next few months due to his outspoken nature and his views.

  John’s concentration on the news was broken when his sergeant, Jamie Gelman came strolling in through the doorway at the front of the room and walked over towards the podium. The TV was immediately muted.

  “Okay fellas,” he said, “…bef
ore Captain Davis comes on I just wanted to go over a few things from the day shift.” A few of the officers looked up towards Sergeant Gelman while Chris Hesser remained focused on his laptop in front of him still trying to determine the error in his report. Roger Faulk seemed to remain completely disinterested, choosing instead to play with the smartphone he held in his hand.

  “District 6 had a bank robbery on Oleander Drive. Luckily a Dragonfly UAV was in the area and managed to tail the suspects until C squad was able to take them down.”

  Wilmington PD had managed to purchase four small multicopter Unmanned Aerial Vehicles before their budget had been put on complete lockdown. Only a few feet across and employing 6 small propellers these UAV’s were little more than flying cameras that roamed the sky above the city. Even before they had been equipped with Automatic License Plate Readers and Forward Looking InfraRed cameras these miniature watchers had already proven themselves to be invaluable to the department. Controlled by either the dispatchers or certain officers via laptops in their patrol cars these UAV’s were nearly always in the right place at the right time; or if they were not they could certainly get there quickly enough. Their versatility had allowed the department to cut down on the use of their SABLE helicopter program, saving the city a significant amount of money. Also, the public’s widening knowledge of these UAV’s had managed to become a deterrent to certain crimes. Knowing that there could always be an eye in the sky secretly recording a person’s every move had raised numerous privacy concerns, but with the current state of unrest in the country these objections were routinely ignored.

  “District 3 also had to deal with a couple of “Occupy” protests.” Sergeant Gelman continued the briefing as he flipped through some notes that he had lain out on the podium in front of him.

  “About twenty-five people were arrested, but it should be noted that soon afterwards the NGP took them into federal custody...” Gelman hesitated for a moment as if searching for the correct words to say before finishing his sentence, “…probably won’t have to worry about those particular individuals for quite some time.” He said in a more foreboding tone at which point Roger Faulk laughed openly as he looked up from the phone that was still in the palm of his hand.

  “One good thing I can say about the NGP is that they certainly know how to quash a protest.” He interjected as a few officers nodded in agreement.

  “I remember back in the day when all people had to do was get a permit from the municipal building and they could go out and protest whatever they wanted.” Todd Sorrells added to the conversation.

  “Well that time is certainly gone…” Sergeant Gelman said as he continued. “In light of recent attacks and attempted attacks around the country all officers are reminded to keep a watchful eye out for any suspicious activity on their beat.”

  There was a loud beep and suddenly the flat screen that hung at the front of the room blinked on. A husky officer who was in his late forties with captain bars on his collar could be seen sitting behind a desk staring back at the officers.

  “Hey guys, Captain Davis here; just wanted to check in with the districts before the start of the shift. I’m sure you are all aware of the bank robbery in District 6, good job to C squad for jumping on that. Of course always be on the lookout for any protestors or anything else suspicious in your areas.” Captain Davis paused for a moment before continuing.

  “Do any of the districts sergeants have anything else they’d like to share?” Gelman glanced out at his officers seeing if anyone had anything to add. His look was met with silence. A few seconds of quiet went by before Davis again spoke, “Good then, everyone be safe out there.” Picking up a remote from his desk he depressed a button and the screen went blank.

  “Okay guys, let’s go to work.” Gelman said as all the officers stood and made their way out of the squad room.

  …..

  “205David, Wilmington 3, 10-38 (traffic stop).” John said into his patrol vehicle’s radio microphone as he pulled in behind an older model, tan colored, Toyota Camry. There was a momentary delay before a female dispatcher came over the radio.

  “205David go ahead.”

  John recited the vehicle’s tag number to the dispatcher immediately as he glanced around the darkened roadway checking to see if there were any upcoming cross streets. Seeing none he gave the best location he could.

  “I’m going to be on Martin Luther King Jr. Parkway about a half mile west of North Kerr Avenue.” Again glancing around at the dark highway John spoke, “Any units available for a check in?” he asked already knowing what the response would be.

  A moment later the feminine voice came back on the radio, “Negative 205David there aren’t any free units.”

  “Hhmm…” John said to himself before depressing the talk button on the side of the microphone one more time.

  “10-4, nothing further.” He slid the microphone back into its place and then moved his hand along the vehicle’s large center console to one of many small switches. He flicked it with his thumb and the patrol car’s blue LED’s lit up the night sky with their strobing pattern. Soon after activating the lights he heard an electronic beeping sound come from his laptop indicating that someone had sent him a private message through the police department’s Computer Automated Dispatch computer system. Taping one of the keys on his laptop as he continued to pull the vehicle in front of him over he saw that the message was from the dispatcher that he had just spoken with on the radio. It read:

  Message from W3: There is a Dragonfly UAV in your area; I’ll have it assigned to your location.

  John’s patrol car slowed to a stop behind the Toyota Camry on the side of the road and he quickly typed back:

  Thank you.

  John moved carefully up the side of his Dodge Charger towards the vehicle he had stopped. The rapidly flashing blue and white lights that were now behind him created a unique and rapidly changing pattern of light and dark shadows on the dimly lit roadway. As he reached the rear portion of the Camry he instinctively placed his right hand against the trunk, both to ensure that it had not been purposefully left open with an awaiting attacker inside and also to place his fingerprints on the rear of the vehicle should the worst happen.

  Holding his flashlight in a “Harries Technique” fashion he raised it to his shoulder and depressed the button on the top sending a beam of light directly into the side view mirror of the car. The light was reflected off the glass and into driver’s side portion of the vehicle further illuminating the individual inside. As John continued his approach up the side of the vehicle, the driver rolled down his window.

  “Hello sir.” John said, “I’m Officer Lawrence with the Wilmington Police Department.” The older white male glanced over at John barely making eye contact.

  “Do you have your driver’s license and registration with you?” he asked. The man quietly began to search his back pocket for his ID and as he did John took in a steady breath of air through his nose and immediately smelled alcohol.

  “Why’d you stop me?” The man grumbled as he pulled his wallet free from his back pocket and momentarily fumbled with it before retrieving his driver’s license.

  “About a half mile back you drove up on the curb…have you had anything to drink tonight?” John asked as he took the man’s license.

  “Just a few beers…” the man responded.

  Looking into his eyes John could see that they were glassy and blood shot. There was a momentary pause before John spoke again.

  “And your registration?” he asked.

  “Oh…” the man reached across his car and began to rummage through the glove box. Taking a brief moment to look around the interior of the Camry, John could see that it was a complete mess. Clothing, shoes, trash, and other various items were strewn about the car; anything could have easily been hidden in the debris. An uneasy feeling began to slip over John as the man handed him his registration. Glancing down at the man’s driver’s license John saw the name Justin Abell
printed on it.

  “Where are you headed to tonight Mr. Abell?” he asked.

  “Back home.” Justin Abell responded.

  “And where are you coming from?” There was a moment’s hesitation before the response and John took another deep breath and continued to smell the aroma of alcohol.

  “MacNalies…” Abell said. John was familiar with the location. It was a local bar several miles away. Not necessarily a bad place, John had only been called their a few times for the occasional unruly customer.

  “Okay sir, well if you’ll wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute.” The man just grunted an unintelligible response as John backed carefully away from the driver’s side door. When he reached the rear portion of the car he turned on his heels and walked back towards his patrol vehicle.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he briefly saw a red light flash in the sky above him. Glancing over his shoulder he observed a Dragonfly UAV hovering quietly about one hundred and fifty feet in the air. Had it not been for the LED’s on his patrol car’s light bar or the UAV’s own small red LED lights, he probably would never have noticed the small unmanned aircraft. Only about four feet across the Dragonfly UAV was constructed mainly of aluminum and carbon fiber. Its black domed central fuselage was a little smaller than that of a football and it had three struts that extended out from it in a semi triangular fashion. At the end of each strut was a tiny motor enclosed in a small case. Small propellers which made little more than a humming sound as they spun were affixed to both the top and bottom of these enclosures. Attached to the underside of the fuselage were landing skids. A high definition FLIR camera was also connected to the bottom center portion of the UAV. John smiled slightly.

  She’s looking out for me… He thought to himself as he opened his car’s door and sat back down in the Charger.

  John touched an icon on his laptop’s touch screen display labeled Criminal Justice Law Enforcement Automated Data Services and the CJLEADS (shortened to CJ-LEADS when spoken out loud) program opened immediately. He slid Justin Abell’s driver’s license through what appeared to be a credit card reader that was affixed to the side of his laptop’s extremely thin display screen. The device read the barcode which was printed on the back of the ID. Another screen immediately popped up and displayed all of Justin Abell’s information, including his photo, fingerprints, and criminal history. Three prior arrests for Driving While Impaired, several Driving While License Revoked charges, and a few assault charges, including one for assault on a law enforcement officer were shown. John immediately knew that his prior suspicions had been correct. He leaned back in his seat for a moment and began to think.