The Knightstick Chronicles, Rough Justice

Ch9, A Good Raid

The street was dark and quiet as the unmarked cars moved into position around the neighborhood. Three detectives sat in their surveillance van, several houses down from the target location. Detective Chase took a swig from his flask while Detective Ryan nervously rolled his lucky poker chip between his fingers. Detective Waylon watched his partner fidgeting with a look of growing disgust. "Will you calm down," he snarled. Ryan fumbled and dropped his chip. " Sorry if I'm fucking nervous!" He shot back. Waylon glared at him. "Just do your part and it'll all be fine." Chase stowed his flask, listening to the radio chatter as units called in their positions, indicating the perimeter was set. He looked over to his partners and nodded. Waylon picked up the battering ram, "Let's go."

The van doors opened and the trio jumped out in tactical vests, moving stealthily up the drive. Silently, they moved behind the junked cars parked out front and positioned themselves along the front door, out of sight of the window. Ryan keyed his mic, "Making entry now."

At the front of the line, Chase bangs on the door, "Sacred River Police, Jalyn Thompson, we have a warrant for your arrest! Come out with your hands up!" Silence for several seconds and then, "That's good enough for me," Waylon said. He pushed past Chase, moved up to the door, and heaved back the ram, slamming into it and breaking the frame in one blow. Ryan transmitted over the radio, "Door is breached," and the three of them moved in.

Outside the house, officers in a neighboring command post van waited for an update. After several minutes of silence, the dispatcher called out, "Entry team, what is your status?" BANG, BANG, BANG! Shots rang out from the house. A secondary team, staged across the street, rushed the door, rifles and shields at the ready while dispatch continued to try and reach the officers in the house over the air.

The secondary team flooded the house, and as they reached the cluttered kitchen, Waylon, Ryan, and Chase were found breathing heavily, guns drawn standing over the body of a young man in baggy clothes wearing a gold chain around his neck. "Calm down boys, we got him," Waylon said, holstering his weapon. One of the officers with the secondary team radioed for an ambulance before rushing over to administer aid to the shot suspect. Waylon and Chase exchanged a glance, and Ryan nervously wiped his face.

Waylon looked back to the other offices standing in the hall outside the kitchen. "We got this, the rest of you finishing sweeping the house, go on!" They jumped to action at Waylon's orders and broke away. Ryan looked expectantly at Waylon. "Ryan, do the thing," Waylon said in a low voice so the officer giving first aid wouldn't hear. Ryan nodded, walked past the other two, and out onto the back patio.

Throughout the house, officers shouted back and forth, "Rooms clear," "clear!" "We're good." Another patrolman returned to the kitchen, giving Waylon and Chase the thumbs up. Chase clipped his radio, "House is clear, search team move in, start tagging."

As the search began, two other men were dragged out in cuffs from other corners of the house, one of them straining against the officers screaming at Waylon, "You shot him! You shot my brother you fucking pigs! He didn't do shit!" The two are taken outside as the paramedics arrive to tend to the gut-shot suspect. Waylon stood back as the paramedics did their work, loading him on a gurney, and fixing an oxygen mask to his face. As they wheeled him out, he nodded pointedly to Chase who turned to follow the paramedics, "Hold up! That man is in police custody, I need to come with you," he said.

Waylon watched them go, his expression agitated. He looked back to the officer who gave aid to the suspect. Waylon forced a smile, "Good job Officer Acker, you may have saved that kid's life," he said, vexation permeating his voice. Daniel got up from where he'd been kneeling, wiping blood from his hands and looking at Waylon confused. "Sure detective..."

The two stood in awkward silence for a moment, before Ryan returned, sticking his head in from the backyard and yelling loudly, "Hey! We got something."

Waylon pushed past Daniel and traipsed out into the overgrown dump of a yard. Several others hurried out of the house to join him. Waylon followed Ryan to the back of the yard to the site of a freshly dug pit. Inside it was the partially uncovered pale leg of a small child. "The ground looked freshly turned, so I dug..." Rayn said. Waylon patted Ryan on the back, "Good job, looks like we caught the sick fuck," he turned to the rest of the team, "Tape this place off, get CSI here now! And don't let the press in!" The officers broke away for their respective tasks. As Waylon walked past Daniel, he turned to him, "you hold the perimeter, officer," he said with a scowl. Daniel stood in silence as the others left, his eyes on the child's grave.

Waylon and Ryan walked through the house and back to the front door. The first leaned in and whispered, "Lead the canvas team through the neighborhood, make sure we didn't miss any house cameras." Ryan nodded, "what do I do if I find one?" Waylon sighed exasperatedly and frowned at his partner without replying. Ryan laughed sheepishly, "Right, right.. I'll take care of it." He turned and hurried off to join the officers preparing to go door to door.

Waylon stepped out of the house and stopped in the front yard, surveying the officers moving about, taking pictures, and gathering evidence. As he watched, he caught sight of a man in a suit and trenchcoat crossing the street towards him, his face fell.

Waylon scoffed, "What do you want Finnick, this is my bust," he shouted to the man. Lieutenant Finnick walked up the lawn, dragging on a cigarette as he scanned the scene, nodding. "I can see that," the Lieutenant replied. "I thought we agreed you would call me when you were ready to move." Waylon smirked, "I said I'd call you when we moved. I never said I'd call before." Finnick blew smoke out his nostrils. "They're saying you found her body. You call the Chief yet?" Waylon crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. "It's on my to-do list." Finnick held his cigarette between his fingers and flicked the ash off, chuckling softly. "Sure it is." He turned to walk back to his car, "Can't wait to read your report," he called in farewell. Waylon glared after Finnick.

A phone buzzed, and Waylon dug for it in his pocket, still watching Finnick's retreat. He lifted the phone to his ear without looking at the caller's I.D. "Yeah, it's done. Chase is cleaning it up," he said. Without waiting for a response, he hung up the phone and turned back to the crime scene, intent on making sure the search went the right way.

Lieutenant Finnick walked over to the old crown vic parked down the road, opened the passenger side door, and tossed his cigarette butt on the sidewalk as he sidled into his seat. His driver looked over at him. "So?" he asked. Finnick watched the house, his face somber, "The girl is dead, I'll call the Chief." the driver swore under his breath. "Send a uniform over to the hospital ASAP." Finnick continued "I didn't see Chase at the scene, I'm guessing he went with the suspect. I want him relieved as soon as possible." The driver stroked his mustache and nodded. "Yeah, ok boss," he replied as he started the car.

As they pulled away, Lieutenant Finnick looked out his window, filled with worry. If the Chief's fears were right, there was no telling how deep the rot ran through. Now a little girl was dead. He needed to find evidence to put a stop to this, and he needed it now.