Problems in the Ponderosas Ch.05

Throughout this whole frenzied activity, Toby had never let go of the left wrist of Camouflage, but he moved his right hand like lightning and drew his pistol, which he put up against the middle of Camouflage's spine. Camouflage thought he had a chance, and whipped his right hand down and back toward Toby's holster. Big mistake. The gunshot was partially muffled by his camouflaged back, and the bullet went through the spinal column, scattering bone fragments from a vertebra like shrapnel, to plow holes through the heart and all the blood vessels going in and out of it. His body teetered until Toby gave a slight push, and what was left of Camouflage fell forward, landing face down in the moldy pine needles.

I still had the AR against my shoulder, and I slowly lowered it and reset the safety. I looked to my left and saw Val doing the same with her pistol. She looked at me and said, "You sure got what you asked for."

"What's that?"

"You asked for two guys who weren't afraid to pull the trigger, and that's just what you got."

We both stepped over the log and walked up to our two guys. Fred was back on his feet already, and he and Toby holstered their pistols at the same time. "That was quick shooting. I with I had all that action on tape. You guys are really something."

Toby had the standard answer. "Just takin' care of business."

Val shook their hands with obvious admiration. "And they say I'm quick. You guys are amazing. Fred, you got your sights on him while you were still falling. And Toby, that speed draw was just a blur. I'm honored to be on the same team with you guys." And then she did the unthinkable. She reached up and kissed each one of them on the cheek.

Fred looked around at me. "Ken, you didn't see that, did you?"

"Never saw a thing," I answered.

STORY TIME

Fred had a radio, which he used to tell our main force that we were all right, and we wouldn't need to use those handcuffs after all. Hank said to stay where we were and guard the crime scene, so we found comfortable places to sit down and wait. Fred asked, "How did you two get involved with this case?" So I told him, and he said, "Then Val, you're the wonder woman I've heard about. Are you the same one who put down that agent from Wichita?"

"Oh, yes, that was me. You know, I could cure world hunger and cancer and stabilize the world economy, but at my retirement party that's the story they'd tell about me. 'Here's Val, she's the one who kicked the FBI agent in the balls.' I was sorry to hear that he was hurt so badly, but in a tight space like that I didn't have many options. If he didn't want to get hurt, he shouldn't have groped me like that. How was I supposed to know he was an agent? Even a high school girl would have reacted the way I did."

I put my two cents in. "We make a pretty good team. Val's fast and I'm big. As long as we're together, people pretty much leave us alone."

We'd been sitting and chatting for forty minutes when we heard gunshots in the distance. First four or five close together, followed by too many to count, all in a bunch. A pause, then a burst of full auto fire, and then silence.

I yelled to Fred, "What's happening? Is it over?"

Fred got busy with his radio and mostly listened for close to five minutes. Then he raised his head and said, "They think they got them all. Harry, up in the helo, is looking all around. Hank says to stay together where we are so they don't get us confused with the enemy. As soon as he has a definite answer, he'll call us."

We amused ourselves by watching birds pecking at pine cones on the ground, trying to get at the tiny seeds that didn't fall out when the cones opened up to scatter their seeds as the trees swayed in the wind. Toby told a few tales about rounding up a gang of drug dealers ten years ago, and Fred told about chasing some crooks in the rugged country of western Maryland. When his radio came to life it brought the news that all of the bad guys were definitely accounted for, and crime scene techs with body bags were on the way to us, led by Bruce and Clyde. A while later, just as Toby was finishing a tale about car thieves and a chop shop, we heard the sound of many feet crashing through the undergrowth, which had to be either an elephant or police department employees with their legs protected by jumpsuits and hiking boots. I stood up, figuring my yellow shirt would give them a beacon to walk toward, and Toby waved and yelled, "Over here."

Clyde rushed ahead of the rest, straight to Val's side so he could make sure "the li'l gal" was all right. Then the rest of the group came up to us, and the techs got busy. They snapped pictures from every conceivable angle, and one at a time we recorded our accounts of the action so they could unscramble the different viewpoints back in the office and put together one official report.

The dead men had no identification, but Bruce was confident that fingerprints would tell the story, since they were nearly certain to have arrest records.

While the techs were finishing their jobs, Bruce and Clyde sat down on our log with us and told us all about what happened. The police were stationed in a line, spaced fingertip to fingertip, the old Army way of getting a man every six feet. Hank's team came close to getting in the way, and Harry directed them to a spot south of the danger zone, up on a small rise of ground where they could see the preparation and then back down to a protected position when the enemy showed up. And they did show up, in an untidy bunch, walking along with not a care in the world until Aaron yelled, "Police. Throw down your weapons! Get down and spread 'em!"

A couple of the bad guys started shooting, and the police started shooting all at once with AR's on semi auto. They thought everybody in the enemy force was on the ground, dead or wounded, until one guy wearing a police jumpsuit came out from behind a tree and grabbed Bobby for a hostage and shield. Obviously he hadn't thought the whole thing through, because she not only had a pistol, she was holding it in her hand, down alongside of her leg. She twisted around a little and while her captor was shouting and gesturing wildly with his gun hand, she shot him in the groin.

The bad guy let go of Bobby and she dove forward. As she hit the ground, Aaron and Tom Kelly both let go with full auto fire from their AR's. Then Lieutenant Cooper ordered "cease firing", and when the guys lowered their AR's Bobby jumped up and waved so everybody could see that she was okay.

"Who was the guy in the police suit?"

"An old friend of yours, name of Mueller."

AND THEN WHAT?

After we came out of the woods, the case was officially turned over to the DOE and FBI. A team went back to the woods the next day and dug up The Real McCoy. Other agents, working mainly from info they had found previously, went on to tidy up the loose ends without any interference from local police or politicians. In one of the more dramatic incidents, two agents walked into a meeting in the mayor's conference room and arrested the mayor and Terry Gardner. We never did find out exactly what they'd done because when their cases came to trial they both answered "no contest" and were hustled off for short terms in a federal country club. If there was a lesson there for us, it was that despite our best efforts, we never got enough information on the City Hall crowd to give them a conclusive, accurate appraisal.

Clyde had no federal charges pending, and since he had never shot anybody in our state, he was allowed to plead guilty to threatening, and was given three years of supervised probation. Last I heard, he was showing up at his PO regular as clockwork, and had found a lady to move in with. Whether she was good with a rifle, like that girl who wasn't around any more, I never found out.

Bobby said she needed to learn all she could about the background of the case, so she could make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. The only way she could get completely filled in was to visit Val's Uncle Paul, and they got together several times at his office, after the library and museum were closed. Then, just to fill in any gaps in the history, they got together over dinner a few times. Finally they found it necessary to keep in close touch, so she moved a bunch of her clothes and uniforms into a spare bedroom at Paul's house. She still has her condo, but any time I've had to call her after hours she's been at Paul's.

Val and I had several meetings with Bobby and Harry, to talk about the case and to get their help in planning our careers. Finally Val transferred to the Detective Bureau, where she went to work on a team of detectives led by Hank. She became a fixture at the evening courses in the criminal justice school of the community college, and plans to continue her education when she can by taking a course at a time at the state university, working toward a bachelor's degree. The reason I say "when she can" is that her pregnancy is interfering with that part of her future plans as I write this.

We didn't get married until she got pregnant. It was supposed to be just a small affair with her family and a few close friends. Bobby stood up with her, and Aaron was my best man. We went from the church to a local restaurant to have a quiet dinner together, only to find that the whole place had been taken over by our friends from the department and their families. The reception was noisy but perfect. The only thing that seemed out of placed was that Val drank half a flute glass of champagne and then switched to apple juice, in deference to our fetus.

So now Val is off on maternity leave, and I'm spending my off time studying books on parenting. I got commendations for the bank robbery and the battle in the pine forest, and now have two stripes on my sleeve. Aaron is now a sergeant, Tom Kelly is a corporal like me, and there have been so many commendations for our guys that the personnel files in the fifth are bulging.

We've had some joint operations with the third precinct, drug sweeps and burglary investigations. In the process I've come to know Lieutenant Herb Cooper pretty well. I think he has the sharpest mind of all the Afro-American officers in the department, and he'll probably become chief some day. His promotion to Captain is being delayed only by the time in grade requirement.

Despite all odds, the Personal Protection Squad has come into existence. Ron Morgan, who was a sergeant in the first precinct, was promoted to lieutenant and put in charge of the SSS, as we still call it, reporting to the captain who commands the SWAT team. We went through the bodyguard course at the Police Academy, after which half the squad, including Val, dropped out to form a reserve group. She had her eye on the calendar, with her body clock telling her to think about becoming a mommy. The rest of us went to The Rowley Center in Beltsville, Maryland, to get the advanced training, and we're one sharp, decisive, potentially lethal bunch of bodyguards, let me tell you. Won't be any assassinations or kidnaps on our watch, you can count on that.

Meanwhile, I'm still doing the school visits occasionally. A high school kid asked me the other day, "Are you glad you decided to become a police officer?" The question rocked me back on my heels.

I sputtered for a few seconds before I could answer, "Honestly, I've never even questioned it. Once I got into law enforcement, there were so many things to learn and so much happening that I was totally absorbed in it. In my mind, I guess I felt that it's what I was meant to do, the only job I was meant to have, and there was no way that I could ever be satisfied doing anything else. I believe that if it's the right thing for you, you'll know it. If you join the department I can only hope you'll find it as fulfilling, as satisfying, as I have. And my wife feels the same way. If you asked her, she'd probably come back with, "What else could I have been?"

So there you have it. That's my story about protecting and serving the public, and I'll leave it to you to put it into a category. It's had highlights of suspense, intrigue, action, and violence, against a peaceful beige background of making our city a safe place for people to raise their kids. My life with Val has been filled with admiration and deep, intense love. On the job, there's a different kind of love, with good friends fighting the good fight together as close as brothers.

Call my story what you will, it's the only way I'd have wanted to go, and I'm older, wiser, and happier than I was at the start. I figure if you can honestly say that, then anybody's memoir is really a success story.