The Job Is On The Streets

(This is not a true account of anything, I have just written a piece of imaginary fantasy - based on television, and films about the Police here in the UK. I have added some of my own elements to spice up the story, no characters in this story are real and all characters are 18 or above in age)




Well here is my account of my first few years on the job, as a Police Officer in London in the Metropolitan Police Service. I joined the service at the height of it's recruitment, in the early 2000's and passed with immediate pass grade through the training, before being sent to a borough of my choosing - sadly the three boroughs I put down in my application were looked over, and I was sent to a 'priority borough' in the city; namely the borough of Brent. For those who don't know London, UK that very well - Brent is where the famous Wembley Arena and Football grounds is located, where the big teams played pivotal football games.

Sadly the borough is also home to some of the worst council estates, deprived housing schemes and areas in the entire city. This makes it home to some of the most brutal, violent criminals and gangs in the entire city. I learned that the hard way when I was on night shift, only a few weeks into my Probationary Period when I was called to a nasty domestic on a council estate known for violence, and crime - the main gang on the estate was the notorious Church Road Soldiers (CRS) who are still active to this day. They were known to attack Police, and even attempt to murder officers if they could get away with it.

This particular night, I was called to an address where officers needed assistance in arresting a male husband, who had struck his wife. I got to the address just as the officers rolled out of the property, four officers in total and they landed onto the floor as the husband shoved them out of his house. The guy was fucking huge, a massive black guy who looked high on drugs - he had to be about 300lbs in weight, his arms and legs were muscular and his entire chest was the size of a car door. He was a nasty piece of work, I charged in - like a rookie would, as I was the single-crew in my Police car. I ran in to confront the massive giant, and went for my CS spray on my kit-belt, and brought it up to aim at his chest, and slowly raise it to his face as I would spray. I shouted out, in an uncertain tone to make him aware of my presence, if he wanted to surrender.

"Police! Get away from the officers now or I will deploy CS spray against you!" I shouted out, at the top of my lungs to be heard of the growing crowd around us, coming out from their homes to see the spectacle.

"Fuck you!" The big, burly man grunted at me and tried to swing his arm at me.

I dodged it, and took a step back from him; still holding the spray canister in my hand aimed at his chest. I had to act, and I pressed hard on the canister's button, to release the spray. As I had been taught in training school at Hendon Police College, if you deploy CS spray then you must warn your colleges nearby; and they were very close to me, on the floor.

"CS deployed!" I shouted as I pressed down on the release button, the spray shot out and hit the man's chest soaking his navy blue t-shirt in the liquid.

What we all expected to happen, never did. The spray hit the man's chest, and I raised the canister as the contents continued to spill onto the man's neck and eventually his face. But he never flinched, he never stumbled; he never gave any sign of actually being affected by the CS spray. The man wiped the liquid from his face, and he had a look of terror in his eyes. We were told at training school that some people are immune to the effects of CS spray naturally, because of their bodies and biology.

Others are immune to CS spray when under the effects of drugs; Cannabis, Heroin, Crack Cocaine, and certain stimulant drugs can make the user immune to the effects of CS spray. Now this guy must have taken one of the drugs that can make a person oblivious, or immune to the effects of CS spray and he went for me. At full speed, he barged into me sending me flying over a nearby metal fence. As I hit the grass in front of the property, I was a few inches from one of the other officers who was holding his ribs where he was hurt.

"Did you call firearms support down here?" I asked him.

The officer was seasoned, and experienced; I had seen him a lot around the Police Station and had gone out with him on some shifts as his partner. Today I was solo, and he was with another male officer who was next to him, slowly rising to his feet.

"We called them, they're en route but they're at least five more minutes away from us." The officer told me, as I saw the big, burly man enter the property again slamming the door shut behind him.

"Fuck it, this guy is hopped up on something. We won't be able to get into the flat with him in there, who else is inside?" I asked him.

The officer grunted, as he ran his hand across the grass to retrieve his ASP, or Police Baton that had come loose.

"When we got to the address; the wife, and two sons were inside. Before they guy flipped out, the sons left and went to a friend's house. It's just the wife and husband in there now." The officer explained holding his baton in his left hand.

I sighed, and felt a stinging feeling in my side and gently touched it; fuck it hurt! Most Police officers in the UK wear stab-vests, also called Met Vests. They can stop most blades and knives, and have pouches on them for your paperwork, booklets and pens. The personal radios we are issued are clipped onto the tops of our vests, and we can easily get to them if we need to call for assistance.

I grabbed a hold of my radio, and pressing the transmit button on it's side and spoke clearly, and loudly down the transmitter.

"Control, this is (my shoulder number).Where is our firearms assistance? We are pinned down by the male suspect, he's clearly under the influence of drugs. CS spray has been deployed, yet he is unaffected." I stated down the radio clearly.

There was a myriad of calls all down the fucking line, officers nearby stating they were en route and India 99, the overhead helicopter had been called in to give support as well due to the nature of the incident. But no response from control, or support channels to my call.

"Control, I say again where is our firearms support?" I asked again, almost screaming down the radio.

In the distance, we could hear the Police sirens nearby, but also the crashing and destruction of furniture inside the flat; the husband was destroying the entire property now.

"(shoulder number), firearms support is en route. There TOA (time of arrival) is going to be five more minutes they claim. What is your update of the situation?" The young woman back at control spoke up, finally some fucking communication.

I breathed hard, control your pulse and your breathing - and then speak clearly.

"Status of male; he is inside the property now, he has locked officers out and is clearly violent, and under the influence of drugs. He is currently damaging furniture and unknown objects within the flat now, myself and four other officers are outside; some are injured. Request LAS (London Ambulance Service) to this address, for officers injuries and female occupant inside the flat. Unknown if she is injured or not, over." I stated clearly down the radio, letting go of the transmit button.

There was a loud crashing noise from inside the flat, it sounded like glass being broken. I shuffled closer to the fencing separating me from the other four officers spread out all over the front garden. As I moved the radio came to life again.

"(shoulder number), LAS is en route but will keep a safe distance from the property upon their arrival." Control said.

I breathed hard, remember the finer details - the substance is in the details, remember and pass it on.

"Control, tell LAS en route that the male suspect looks to be on some sort of stimulant, and the immediate area of the property's front door is contaminated with CS that I deployed. Word of warning to the LAS crew." I explained, releasing the transmit button.

Immediately after that, I heard another big crash from inside the house - and the screaming wife inside was wailing loudly, probably as the husband was trashing the flat.

"He's going to hurt her, if we don't get in there." I said to the officer next to me, on the other side of the fence.

The officer I was speaking to, I knew only his surname as it was on the Velcro bar stuck to his stab vest; Conway.

"Relax, Anderson." PC Conway said to me, covering his face with his arm.

By the way I am PC (Police Constable James Anderson) and like Conway, my surname was on my stab vest sewn into the Velcro pad.

Conway sighed, running a hand through his graying short, black hair.

"This fucker is hopped up on something, we go in there like we all just did - one of us is going to be leaving in a body bag." Conway said in his experienced, assertive tone.

I understood what he meant, the next time we went charging in there - the husband would hit one of us hard enough, that we wouldn't get back up again. He could even be armed inside, we just didn't know anything about the situation. Making a fatal mistake, it could end badly for one of us; and Conway had many years on the job, I was the rookie here.

The sirens grew closer, and in the distance at the bottom of the street connecting onto the main busy road we could see coming Police vehicles including the lead vehicle; a red Police car. This was a firearms car, and they were en route to us. Red was the color of the car, it distinguishes it as a firearms vehicle, and cars that were not red were simple patrol, cars; maybe one of the officers on-board would have a taser but that was about it.

People reading this must understand that British Police here in the UK, do not carry firearms - only trained officers carry them, and if firearms support is needed for an armed suspect then normal, unarmed officers call down for their help over the radio. Some people would find this unusual, but as a Police force we've never had to carry guns unless we have to - we have trained officers for that specific role.

But seeing that red bodywork, the flashing blue lights on it's roof coming towards us was a blessed feeling - this guy may have felt like a tough guy, but now our armed, tough men were here to settle the score. The red armed RV (Response Vehicle) pulled up quickly along the curb of the road, followed by two normal unarmed RV's that pulled up behind it. Behind all three vehicles was an ambulance, and it pulled up behind the normal RV's.

The armed crew of the red, firearms response vehicle dismounted; jumping out onto the street. These officers always carried Glock pistols, an additional taser, tougher-made handcuffs, and other kit that only armed officers would need on their person. Everything else was in the locked box in the boot of the vehicle where there would be more than one MP5 Heckler & Koch sub-machine gun, probably a shotgun, and additional ammunition with a bullet-proof shield and vest for a victim who has already been shot and injured.

They moved quickly, in their firearm proof vests. They were far thicker than our regular stab vests we wore, and had many more pouches and extras on theirs. I heard they were specially bought from America, and sent over for our armed officers.

They moved over to us, upholstering their Glock pistols, there were three armed officers in total, and seeing them allowed us to stand from the floor safely.

"Where is the suspect?" The lead armed officer asked, he had three chevrons above his shoulder number on his vest, meaning he was a Sergeant.

He looked to be in his thirties, and his name badge read; Sergeant Williams and he had his Glock in both his hands as he looked at me.

"Inside, he's inside with his wife; he's hopped up on something, a stimulant. My CS didn't effect him, he's either immune naturally or from the drugs he's on. He's been trashing the flat for the last five minutes, we don't know the state of his wife, but she was screaming a few minutes ago." I explained to the Sergeant.

The Sergeant nodded, and put his right hand up as a signal to the two other armed officers.

"We're going to force entry, and deploy the taser on the fucker. If he is still able to resist the effects of the taser, try and take him down with your batons. We cannot deploy lethal force on a guy who's hopped up on stimulants - it's not reasonable force." The Sergeant explained to me and the other four officers.

We agreed, and stayed aside - on the fringes of the front door of the property taking our Police batons from our pouches on our kit-belts.

"Get ready, once they force entry and taser the guy - if he is still able to fight and resist, we will deploy batons and strike his legs. Take him down as carefully as we can and force an arrest on him." PC Conway explained our tactics.

We waited; I cannot explain how intense the wait is, as you wait for the moment to strike - I hoped the taser would be enough to take him down, I didn't want to deploy my baton, it would be a lot of paperwork to explain why we used them.

Moments passed, then we heard the crash of the front door being forced open with the Enforcer, a battering-ram used to force entry into properties. The door snapped in two, it was made of plastic so it wasn't a surprise it didn't stand up to the Enforcer. It fell through, and the three armed officers stepped inside led by the Sergeant.

"Armed Police, down on the floor now or we will deploy tasers!" Sergeant Williams screamed like a broken microphone, he was loud, clear and precise.

I couldn't make out what the suspect said in response, I just heard shouting as the Sergeant made his threat clear once more.

"I repeat, I will deploy taser if you do not stand down!" Sergeant Williams threatened.

I hoped he would surrender, I hoped he would back down - but that never happens, he went for the armed officers and then I heard the order.

"Taser deployed!" Sergeant Williams stated.

I heard screaming, from the wife and grunting noises I assumed from the husband who had just been tasered - his body reacted in the only way it knew how to when being pulsed by electricity. I hoped that this was enough, the taser put down the husband; but then I saw the three armed men backing out of the flat back out towards us - a tactical retreat.

"Taser isn't working! Deploy your batons!" Sergeant Williams screamed at me as he was the last to back out of the property, still with the wires of his taser extended and pinned into the husband's chest.

He pressed the trigger once more, sending another shock through the husband but he still kept coming shouting and throwing abuse at us all. Armed Police here in the UK have to be careful, they must have good reason for every bullet, or taser shot they use - they must use reasonable force for it. Same goes for regular officers with their CS spray, and every strike of their batons must be justified. I had to justify everything - every action I must justify my reasons for them.

"Deploy fucking ASP's now!" Sergeant Williams roared at me literally in my face as he passed me, backing away from the male suspect. ASP's are Police batons, just to explain that point to you readers.

I moved in first, better to be first at the party than the last man to leave - I struck the suspect in his legs and he grunted, but didn't flinch. Fuck what was this guy, a bloody giant. The other officers including Conway moved in striking his legs, and even the back of his legs. After a few failed strikes. Conway got a well-placed strike on the back of the man's legs and he crumbled to the floor shaking but still trying to resist.

We moved quick, we took him down to the floor and forced handcuffs on his wrists - they weren't mine or Conway's, but one of the other officers handcuffs. Sergeant Williams moved in and removed the pins of the taser from the man's chest, and moved away.

"You guys got this? We need to do the paperwork for this back at the nick, for the taser."

Sergeant Williams asked me, and I nodded.

The armed officers moved away to their vehicle, and the Sergeant spoke again.

"If we need to clarify details for the paperwork, we'll be at the station." He said, and I quickly noted down his shoulder number and surname on the back of my hand in pen.

I nodded, and they were soon gone. The other officers who arrived, normal unarmed officers who were on the same shift as me left once we had the scene under control. We soon got the husband in the back of one of the prisoner vans that soon arrived; sadly this rewarded me a slap across the face when the abused wife refused to press charges, and demanded we released him. We told her no, and sadly I was facing her when she struck me. So we arrested her for 'Assault On Police' on top of her husband's charge of assault on her, and assault on Police as well.

We quickly got them both back to the Police Station in Wembley, in separate vans and got them through custody as quickly as we could so we could start our paperwork - a lot of paperwork. I managed to get away after the prisoners were moved to their cells, and I got one of the vending machines in the station and bought a can of Pepsi and a pack of Cheese & Onion crisps. I took my snacks to the writing room used by officers, and began my notes.

The notes took hours to complete, by the time I was finished I had gone through three cans of Pepsi and two packs of Crisps. By the time I booked off my hours, and got changed into my civilian clothes it was almost 5am in the morning.

I got on my bicycle, and rode home - I lived locally. It just so happened that in the early hours of the morning I came across a mature, voluptuous black woman driving home under the influence of alcohol as I rode alongside her - and this would begin my dark chapters in my Police career. The day I took advantage of my position, and job. But let's leave that until the next part, OK guys.





All feedback is appreciated, and any comments I will take into consideration. Any ideas you have for the next installment then please comment. Thank You and I hope you enjoyed this installment.