Machine Learning (Captain Allen and DPD SWAT POV)

Veterans' Preference

Part I: Erik Thorn

Three months in the academy had gone by in an instant. Three months shadowing officers and training new cadets went by even faster. I'd come to really enjoy that part of the job, and part of me considered staying there permanently. But when I got the call that Captain Fowler kept his word, and I was permitted to assemble my personal special ops team on behalf of the City of Detroit, that old adrenaline rush came flooding back. I'd grown complacent, even if it had been a productive complacency, and now that the real challenge was put in front of me, I remembered why I took this role in the first place. Everything was exciting, refreshing, and exhilarating until my first night on the job of trying to find any of the marines I'd served with except Pierson and Chaplain.

Pierson declined when I asked her to join, said she was set up as an EMT in the city, though. I told her we'd have to catch up later. Chaplain was already a cop and didn't want to leave Ohio, but he gave me some good advice. I told them both I was proud of them for not letting their circumstances or past experiences destroy their lives, and to my surprise, they said the same thing to me. They were worried about me, even after all this time.

I took a deep breath and slung my duffle bag over my shoulder, locking my truck behind me, making my way towards the employee entrance in the back of the station. It was 30 minutes before my shift, so just early enough to guarantee that Fowler would not respond with an ounce of patience to me telling him I'd need to use even more department resources. Snow crunched under my boots and the cold nipped at my cheeks, the wind picking up in a shallow gust, rattling bare tree limbs.

Another sound was carried on the wind – gravel shifting under someone's foot. The crinkle of fabric and ill intent. My neck whipped around, and my bag dropped to the ground. My right hand caught someone's wrist, but was empty as soon as it'd latched on.

"Not bad." A man mumbled.

A gun clicked and a hard point stuck to my back.

"We're just two friends having a polite conversation. Isn't that right, Staff Sergeant Allen?" He was standing next to me now, the coldness of the pistol sliding to my side as he repositioned it, "You're good, but you won't be able to get away from me."

In the dim light, I could barely make out his features, but the shape of his hair reminded me of a very particular CIA intelligence officer. Someone that would know better than to call me Staff Sergeant as a retired veteran, but would also know that would verify their identity, and whatever history we had together.

"Officer Thorn, what a surprise." I choked.

"You do remember me." He grinned, "I'm humbled."

"Mind explaining what this is all about?" I tried to keep it cool, but was having a hard time.

"You first." The gun pushed harder in my side, "Why were you searching for Akane Mayumi last night?"

A flood of questions rushed in my mind. How did he know that? Was he spying on me? Was the government spying on me? Did he have a wiretap in my house? Did the DPD have a leak?

"Answer me." He growled, the previous touch of friendliness in his voice, dying.

"I want to offer her a job." I blurted, "I have the folder right here. I thought if I found her first, she'd help me track down the rest of my teammates. The other names I was looking up. You saw those too, right?"

Erik was silent. Two puffs of steam left his nose, and he pulled the gun away from my side. I didn't know I was holding my breath until my lungs deflated.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" He laughed, sticking his gun in the band of his jeans before pulling his shirt down around it and straightening his jacket, "Your picture in the DoD database really doesn't do you any justice, you know."