Not to the Swift

Chapter 14

"Captain, we've got to increase patrols somehow," Candida Rodriguez said. "You're going to have to request outside assistance from other precincts, maybe even neighboring towns." She stood in one of her black tailored pantsuits between the large desk and tinted windows of the captain's office.

McCullough shook his head and looked over the shift schedule Sergeant Bristow made.

"You've seen the uptick in suspicious person reports, the increase in anonymous tips. People are scared and they're calling faster and more often than we can dispatch someone."

"It ain't that bad, Candi," the captain said. He still ran his fingers over his balding head, massaging his temples. "We've been able to manage by switchin' to twelves."

Candida glared. Stubborn man! Don't you see the bags under your officers' eyes, the harrowed expressions on their faces when they go home for a few hours' sleep just to come back the next day? She looked over the schedule in McCullough's hands and noted precious few down days for any of the officers.

"Look, Mike, you're going to need outside help because some of the instigators are getting outside help. From what the county has seen, the protests are growing past a peaceful, non-violent, grass-roots initiative we could work with. It's turning into a statewide or even nationwide issue.

"Southern Kings has ties to a variety of predominantly Hispanic gangs leading up to MS Thirteen. They can bring resources to bear like you can't believe, and racial tensions give them a perfect excuse to cause trouble—and a distraction that provides cover for their operations."

She leaned on the desk in front of him. "Let me make some calls. The city has access to excess military vehicles and riot gear should it become necessary. But that's something you want to have readily available in advance, or else you get caught with your pants down. We can pre-position some equipment in the industrial district should protests get out of hand."

McCullough sat back and blew out an exhausted breath. "What's happened to us, Candi? Turning the police force into some pseudo-military army? Fighting off nationwide gangs armed with automatic weapons? It used to be so much easier."

"People are holding your men and women accountable for everything now," Candida replied. "Everyone's a citizen reporter. Everybody's walking around with a Constitutionally protected video camera in their back pocket. And just like the difference with body cams, maybe that's a good thing in the long run."

"Yeah," Captain McCullough said. "When I came up, some guys, they had all these tricks and techniques to bend the rules. If they crossed the line, everybody would look the other way, cover it up." He raised his hands, noticing Candida's tense expression. "I ain't sayin' we should get back to that. I'm glad a lot of that stuff has been shut down."

"You've got a long battle ahead of you, Captain," she said. "Every inch of it, uphill against an enemy that's dug into fortified positions. But the enemy isn't the protestors, and it isn't the regulations. It's the breaches of trust between your people and the community you serve."

McCullough slid the shift schedule aside and looked out his window. "Not sure that armoring up with assault vehicles and militarized police gear is gonna help that."

Candida shook her head. "It won't. That's a short term solution to a problem I hope we manage to avoid. You plan for the worst, but hope for the best."

Two swift raps sounded on the closed door. Captain McCullough called for the newcomer to enter.

O'Neill peeked his head in. "Sir, there's something causing a stir on the news and on the web you need to see."