GWOT Night Watch
Oct. 3rd, 2018 02:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyGWOT Night Watch
"Echo 18, call the Command Center."
As I lurched awake in my self-imposed cell, I dimly realized that I'd been half awake listening to radio traffic. The night supervisor, Sarah, had responded to a visit request from Post #4. While still on the way, in a golf cart with a driver, she had requested a guard team to also respond. Per SOP, that team would be also in a golf cart.
The next level of reaction would need to wake up and involve employees. So again per SOP, Dispatch had called me to get me involved.
I shrugged on pants, uniform blouse, and vest, then zipped up my boots. I wrapped my duty belt around myself, checked the buckle, checked the retention strap on my holster, and stood, jumping a little bit to make sure nothing jingled.
"Echo 18, call the Command Center."
Yeah, yeah. I used the keys from my keeper to unlock my cage, then locked it behind me, and took eight steps to the nearest internal extension. I dialed in.
"Echo 18, go."
"We have a perimeter incident near Post #4. Supervisor and one team are responding. H5 reports two in the perimeter, two on the perimeter. No gunfire, no lights."
That was ... bad. And suspicious.
Did I really want to wake everyone up?
Did I _not_ want to wake everyone up?
"What time is it?" I asked.
The reply was puzzled.
"0325 hours."
About an hour and a half before people would start waking up for shift change
I'm not responding to what is happening right now. That way lies defeat and destruction. I am responding to the worst case of what could be happening a half hour from now.
"Page off duty guards to early in. Split responders between Reserve and H5 depending on their quals. Send a Level II notification to duty contacts of a suspicious incident on perimeter near Post #4. Negative alert condition at this time. Repeat back."
He did. I was calling half an alert. Not Alert Three, which was arguably appropriate but would wake about twenty people up. Certainly not Alert One, which would literally sound alarms and wake _everyone on campus_ up.
The one good thing about a night alert is that I didn't have to depend on Shane Shreve to be my driver. He could enjoy his slumber. I could steal one of the Facilities golf carts, as they were not in use until daylight.
Accordingly, I badged my way out, signed for the keys from the Data Center loading dock guard, reluctantly keyed into an arms locker, turned in the rifle's tag to the guard, and checked chamber. I left the ugly vest where it was, but took the ammo bandolier with its sling.
It wasn't likely that I would need a rifle. But unlikely doesn't mean impossible, and most of the unlikely things would kill me if I didn't have one.
"Echo 18, mobile," I radioed in as I drove to Post #4. Might as well nip this in the bud.
Halfway to the post, I heard an amplified voice, female, shout something indistinct.
I broke squelch.
"H5, Echo 18, light 'em up!" I ordered.
Obediently a very powerful spotlight lanced out from the H5 rooftop and pinned two running figures.
Now I heard the amplified voice, louder. From the duty golf cart, now giving chase to the running figures as they started to cross the parking lot.
"HALT! HALT! HALT!" spoke the duty cart PA. But they had no ability to fire; the cart was in motion.
The running figures were not carrying anything. That saved their lives. For now.
"Check fire! Battlesight! Check fire!" I ordered, then reluctantly, "Alert Three. I say again, Alert Three for intruders in the perimeter."
"Battlesight," H5 calmly acknowledged. The two running figures now lived and died at my discretion, although they probably didn't know it.
The one problem with a Facilities golf cart is that they don't have a PA system. So I couldn't, for example, tell them to "STOP OR I FIRE!"
What I could do is cut them off at the pass, with all my lights on. So I did that.
With golf carts on either side of them, the two halted.
Nope, not carrying anything.
So I dismounted with my rifle at low ready and started shouting.
"Intruders! Put your hands up or die where you stand! You are in our sights!"
I approached, still not muzzling the two, but very ready to bring up my rifle and fire.
With their attention focused on me, they did not see two guards get out of the duty cart and bring their own weapons up.
One of the two intruders put ... her ... hands up. The other turned to face me and pointed at me.
"Who are you?" he yelled defiantly. "What are you going to do, shoot us?"
He seemed to think I had started a conversation. This was not a good situation, because i was still trying not to kill them both.
"I dare you go ahead and shoot!" he shouted. Then he started dancing back and forth, shaking his hips and singing, "La, la, shoot me! Shoot me!"
He either didn't know or didn't care that there were at least three rifles pointed at him, more likely five. My rifle wouldn't matter, so I slung it quickly and walked towards him, hands empty and spread wide.
"What's your name?" I asked as I closed the gap. I could have asked him for a cigarette, or identified myself, or any number of other time wasting ploys, but it was just a prop to get me through that awkward 50' to 10' distance where I could see him clearly, backlit by the spotlight on H5.
As he started to reply, I drew my expandable baton in one smooth motion and hit him in the back of his upper right leg as hard as I possibly could.
As he fell, I kept hitting him with the baton, but pulling my strikes. One third power, to his arms and to his torso. No need to break anything.
A guard - actually, my guard supervisor Sarah, ran up and racked his left wrist. I grabbed and held his right wrist still for her to finish applying handcuffs. Then Sarah frisked him for weapons and came up empty.
The other guard held the second suspect at gunpoint this entire time. She didn't move. So when Sarah took out her second pair of handcuffs, she started barking verbal commands.
"Turn around! Away from me! Put your hands out to your sides! Hold still! Cooperate and you won't be hurt!"
Sarah was as good as her word.
Once they were secured, I ordered H5 to kill the lights and stand down.
We dragged both suspects over in front of the duty cart's headlights. After a quick secondary frisk, we put them in the back of the cart, fastened seat belts around them, and took them right back to the perimeter. I rode with Sarah and her driver-guard took the Facilities cart.
The female suspect was silent and breathing hard from her run, although weepy. The male suspect was gasping in pain and trying to recover his breath.
Now at Post #4, I braced the guard.
"Where are the other two?"
"Still in the bushes," he pointed.
Really. Really?
I took over the passenger spotlight on the duty cart and pointed it at the bushes in question. Then I picked up the cart PA mike.
I flicked on the spotlight and said simultaneously, "Site Security! You are trespassing in a restricted area at night! Approach and be arrested, or leave immediately! If you remain where you are, you will be fired upon!"
The bushes rustled but I didn't see anything.
"Post #4," I said without keying the mike. "On the command, fire three rounds into the bushes."
"Last chance. Run, come over here or get shot." A pause. "Fire."
The guard visibly tensed and fired three spaced shots, at an angle that wouldn't hit anywhere near the bushes in question but also didn't take backstop into account.
"Shit!" a voice shouted from the bushes and the rustling, at first loud, grew fainter as the person ran away.
"Echo 18, H5, number of souls?"
"One," came the unfortunate reply.
Oh Goddamn it. Someone was still in that bush.
"You, in the bush. If you can't move, call out. If you can, run away. Do it now."
No answer or movement.
Odds were fifty-fifty that the guards would refuse to go check it out. But I couldn't do everything for many reasons, not least of which was the fact that sooner or later I'd get unlucky.
"Sarah."
"Sir!"
"Take a guard and go sweep those bushes."
Perforce she did, leaving me with the post guard and two suspects, still handcuffed and seat belted to the back of the duty cart.
Sarah and her driver approached carefully, rifles and flashlights. Sarah paused, called out, called out again, then keyed her radio.
"Delta Four, Echo 18, need a litter."
No, Sarah, you do not need a Goddamn litter.
"Break, cancel," I replied. "Send the driver to the cart."
She did. I took his place.
What I saw, and what Sarah had seen, was a terrified empty-handed teenager with a splinted right leg. He had clearly pissed himself at some point during the challenge process.
Unfortunately, he also had a backpack within easy reach.
We were not a fucking charity.
"Sarah, take and search the pack," I said quietly.
She blinked at me in the reflected light from the cart.
"Sarah, transition to handgun. Approach. Search the backpack. Make him do it, or do it yourself." I paused. "Or look for a new job."
She flinched and complied. Personal effects, no weapons.
"Leave him with it and come over here."
Just out of earshot, but where I could still keep easy watch, I quietly gave voice to what was on my mind.
"Sarah, what the actual fuck happened? By SOP there should be two dead bodies on the ground about halfway between Post 4 and where we took them into custody."
The Halt! command, given three times, was appropriate. But it should have been issued on the perimeter, not well inside it, by the post guard, who also should have opened fire.
His rifle worked, we had demonstrated that.
But his fitness to be a guard was now in question. As was Sarah's fitness to be a guard supervisor.
"Echo 18, call the Command Center. Status update."
"Scene secure," I called. "Three under observation." Not in custody. I hadn't made that particular decision yet.
"Copy," Wyatt - one of the day shift dispatchers - said quietly. He grasped the situation. This was at one level or another, a fuckup.
"Sarah?" I prodded.
"The post guard had the two at gunpoint when we pulled up. I dismounted to talk to him, he took his rifle to ready and they ran for it."
Holding people at gunpoint is extremely dangerous for all sorts of reasons. You can't shift your attention, not even for a moment. The guard should not have put his rifle up.
This explained why they had been able to run. It did not explain why Sarah had chosen not to open fire.
But I had made exactly the same decision - we had the strategic depth to stop two unarmed, or at most lightly armed, people before they could reach a building. And we had.
"We have nothing for them. You know that," I said quietly.
We had turned away hundreds and hundreds of people. Desperate, starving, sick. This was just three more.
There was no strategic reason we couldn't let them go. They had no special knowledge of our defenses. But we didn't have the resources to let them stay.
"I know," Sarah said miserably.
Likely the leg wasn't just broken. Likely he needed medical attention, which we wouldn't be providing. Certainly all three had that post-Firecracker Ultra Slim Fast diet and smell about them.
I gestured back to the perimeter. Sarah watched as I unbuckled the two prisoners.
I didn't bother separating them. This wasn't an interrogation.
"Who is your employer?" I asked her.
She seemed confused. I repeated the question.
"I haven't been to work since ..."
"Who is your employer?" Now was not the time to talk about the three day rule.
She named a company. Nobody I recognized.
I turned to him.
"Who is your employer?"
"Are you fucking retarded? Who the fuck cares! What the fuck is up with you people!"
Wrong answer, out of many possible wrong answers.
"You are both trespassing on private property during a time of national emergency. You are required to leave the premises now and never return."
Sarah raised her duty phone to take their pictures. I shook my head. There were hundreds of people we hadn't taken pictures of, and yet trespassed. The extra drama was not worth the extra sliver of intel. If we really needed faces, the megapixel cameras at H5 had them cold -- and knowing Wyatt, he'd already captured imagery of them. Because, Wyatt.
"Are you fucking dense? You hit me in the fucking leg! We need help!"
"Do you know where the San Jose Fire Station at Bernal and Monterey Highway is?" I asked.
"Who cares about some fucking fire station?"
"If you want someone to look at that young man's broken leg, the firefighters at the San Jose Fire Station at Bernal Road and Monterey Highway will look at his leg for you. During daytime hours. It will probably be daylight by the time you carry your friend there."
"You fucking broke _my_ leg!" he shouted, hands cuffed behind his back, while standing on the allegedly broken leg.
I had been very careful when I struck him. His leg certainly hurt, a lot. But I wanted him to be able to walk. To walk away. To leave the site and our lives.
"You are, all three of you, trespassing on private property during a state of national emergency. You can carry him away or he can die of thirst where he lies in the bushes. If you don't leave, you will be shot. We are going to take the handcuffs off you and you are going to leave. Whether you pick up your friend and carry him to safety is up to you. Whether you take him to the fire station or not is up to you. Whether you live or die is up to you.
"Leave or you will be shot," I repeated.
"Sarah, take her handcuffs off. Ma'am, when we take your handcuffs off, go to the bushes. If your man here decides to commit suicide, you will have to try to drag your injured friend away, or leave him to die."
I drew my pistol. Sarah took off her handcuffs.
Instantly she bolted for the bushes.
Then I looked the man right in the eyes.
"My name is [Echo 18] and I'm the security here. What is your name?"
"Fuck you, you're crazy."
"I prefer to know the names of the people who force me to murder them. What is your name, sir?"
"Fuck you!"
"Guards! Rifles at ready, take cover. Sarah, hostile handcuff removal, use extreme caution, break contact as soon as clear. I may have to fire at any moment, watch your angles.
"Suspect, you are going to run away or I am going to shoot you dead."
I leveled the handgun at his face.
Sarah wrenched him around, and he kept looking over his shoulder at my gun. This gave her the chance to do a foot sweep, knock him to the ground, kneel on the small of his back and unlock the first cuff. While he was still stunned, she unlocked the second cuff, removed the pair, and ran quickly to the far side of the cart, putting it between them, where she drew her own handgun and waited.
He looked at me as he got up.
I looked at him back, right in the eyes, holding my pistol in two hands Weaver-stance, and decided on two in the chest.
"George!" the woman howled from the bushes. It was a hopeless, mournful shout. The kind of shout you make after the man has been shot.
He flinched, turned away, and walked towards the bushes.
I holstered and transitioned to rifle at low ready. I had to holster twice; the first time my hand was shaking too badly.
The two started carrying the young man - husband, wife and son? - away.
I slung my rifle.
"I expect an incident report from all four of you within the next hour. Sarah, return to Dispatch and turn over watch early to your relief. Meet me in the cafeteria for breakfast at 0630. Your driver will remain here to augment Post #4 until shift change."
I then walked to the Facilities cart to return it.
Amazingly enough, my legs still worked.
I wondered if I would meet George again.
If I did, one of us would certainly die.
His eyes had promised me that.
"Echo 18, call the Command Center."
As I lurched awake in my self-imposed cell, I dimly realized that I'd been half awake listening to radio traffic. The night supervisor, Sarah, had responded to a visit request from Post #4. While still on the way, in a golf cart with a driver, she had requested a guard team to also respond. Per SOP, that team would be also in a golf cart.
The next level of reaction would need to wake up and involve employees. So again per SOP, Dispatch had called me to get me involved.
I shrugged on pants, uniform blouse, and vest, then zipped up my boots. I wrapped my duty belt around myself, checked the buckle, checked the retention strap on my holster, and stood, jumping a little bit to make sure nothing jingled.
"Echo 18, call the Command Center."
Yeah, yeah. I used the keys from my keeper to unlock my cage, then locked it behind me, and took eight steps to the nearest internal extension. I dialed in.
"Echo 18, go."
"We have a perimeter incident near Post #4. Supervisor and one team are responding. H5 reports two in the perimeter, two on the perimeter. No gunfire, no lights."
That was ... bad. And suspicious.
Did I really want to wake everyone up?
Did I _not_ want to wake everyone up?
"What time is it?" I asked.
The reply was puzzled.
"0325 hours."
About an hour and a half before people would start waking up for shift change
I'm not responding to what is happening right now. That way lies defeat and destruction. I am responding to the worst case of what could be happening a half hour from now.
"Page off duty guards to early in. Split responders between Reserve and H5 depending on their quals. Send a Level II notification to duty contacts of a suspicious incident on perimeter near Post #4. Negative alert condition at this time. Repeat back."
He did. I was calling half an alert. Not Alert Three, which was arguably appropriate but would wake about twenty people up. Certainly not Alert One, which would literally sound alarms and wake _everyone on campus_ up.
The one good thing about a night alert is that I didn't have to depend on Shane Shreve to be my driver. He could enjoy his slumber. I could steal one of the Facilities golf carts, as they were not in use until daylight.
Accordingly, I badged my way out, signed for the keys from the Data Center loading dock guard, reluctantly keyed into an arms locker, turned in the rifle's tag to the guard, and checked chamber. I left the ugly vest where it was, but took the ammo bandolier with its sling.
It wasn't likely that I would need a rifle. But unlikely doesn't mean impossible, and most of the unlikely things would kill me if I didn't have one.
"Echo 18, mobile," I radioed in as I drove to Post #4. Might as well nip this in the bud.
Halfway to the post, I heard an amplified voice, female, shout something indistinct.
I broke squelch.
"H5, Echo 18, light 'em up!" I ordered.
Obediently a very powerful spotlight lanced out from the H5 rooftop and pinned two running figures.
Now I heard the amplified voice, louder. From the duty golf cart, now giving chase to the running figures as they started to cross the parking lot.
"HALT! HALT! HALT!" spoke the duty cart PA. But they had no ability to fire; the cart was in motion.
The running figures were not carrying anything. That saved their lives. For now.
"Check fire! Battlesight! Check fire!" I ordered, then reluctantly, "Alert Three. I say again, Alert Three for intruders in the perimeter."
"Battlesight," H5 calmly acknowledged. The two running figures now lived and died at my discretion, although they probably didn't know it.
The one problem with a Facilities golf cart is that they don't have a PA system. So I couldn't, for example, tell them to "STOP OR I FIRE!"
What I could do is cut them off at the pass, with all my lights on. So I did that.
With golf carts on either side of them, the two halted.
Nope, not carrying anything.
So I dismounted with my rifle at low ready and started shouting.
"Intruders! Put your hands up or die where you stand! You are in our sights!"
I approached, still not muzzling the two, but very ready to bring up my rifle and fire.
With their attention focused on me, they did not see two guards get out of the duty cart and bring their own weapons up.
One of the two intruders put ... her ... hands up. The other turned to face me and pointed at me.
"Who are you?" he yelled defiantly. "What are you going to do, shoot us?"
He seemed to think I had started a conversation. This was not a good situation, because i was still trying not to kill them both.
"I dare you go ahead and shoot!" he shouted. Then he started dancing back and forth, shaking his hips and singing, "La, la, shoot me! Shoot me!"
He either didn't know or didn't care that there were at least three rifles pointed at him, more likely five. My rifle wouldn't matter, so I slung it quickly and walked towards him, hands empty and spread wide.
"What's your name?" I asked as I closed the gap. I could have asked him for a cigarette, or identified myself, or any number of other time wasting ploys, but it was just a prop to get me through that awkward 50' to 10' distance where I could see him clearly, backlit by the spotlight on H5.
As he started to reply, I drew my expandable baton in one smooth motion and hit him in the back of his upper right leg as hard as I possibly could.
As he fell, I kept hitting him with the baton, but pulling my strikes. One third power, to his arms and to his torso. No need to break anything.
A guard - actually, my guard supervisor Sarah, ran up and racked his left wrist. I grabbed and held his right wrist still for her to finish applying handcuffs. Then Sarah frisked him for weapons and came up empty.
The other guard held the second suspect at gunpoint this entire time. She didn't move. So when Sarah took out her second pair of handcuffs, she started barking verbal commands.
"Turn around! Away from me! Put your hands out to your sides! Hold still! Cooperate and you won't be hurt!"
Sarah was as good as her word.
Once they were secured, I ordered H5 to kill the lights and stand down.
We dragged both suspects over in front of the duty cart's headlights. After a quick secondary frisk, we put them in the back of the cart, fastened seat belts around them, and took them right back to the perimeter. I rode with Sarah and her driver-guard took the Facilities cart.
The female suspect was silent and breathing hard from her run, although weepy. The male suspect was gasping in pain and trying to recover his breath.
Now at Post #4, I braced the guard.
"Where are the other two?"
"Still in the bushes," he pointed.
Really. Really?
I took over the passenger spotlight on the duty cart and pointed it at the bushes in question. Then I picked up the cart PA mike.
I flicked on the spotlight and said simultaneously, "Site Security! You are trespassing in a restricted area at night! Approach and be arrested, or leave immediately! If you remain where you are, you will be fired upon!"
The bushes rustled but I didn't see anything.
"Post #4," I said without keying the mike. "On the command, fire three rounds into the bushes."
"Last chance. Run, come over here or get shot." A pause. "Fire."
The guard visibly tensed and fired three spaced shots, at an angle that wouldn't hit anywhere near the bushes in question but also didn't take backstop into account.
"Shit!" a voice shouted from the bushes and the rustling, at first loud, grew fainter as the person ran away.
"Echo 18, H5, number of souls?"
"One," came the unfortunate reply.
Oh Goddamn it. Someone was still in that bush.
"You, in the bush. If you can't move, call out. If you can, run away. Do it now."
No answer or movement.
Odds were fifty-fifty that the guards would refuse to go check it out. But I couldn't do everything for many reasons, not least of which was the fact that sooner or later I'd get unlucky.
"Sarah."
"Sir!"
"Take a guard and go sweep those bushes."
Perforce she did, leaving me with the post guard and two suspects, still handcuffed and seat belted to the back of the duty cart.
Sarah and her driver approached carefully, rifles and flashlights. Sarah paused, called out, called out again, then keyed her radio.
"Delta Four, Echo 18, need a litter."
No, Sarah, you do not need a Goddamn litter.
"Break, cancel," I replied. "Send the driver to the cart."
She did. I took his place.
What I saw, and what Sarah had seen, was a terrified empty-handed teenager with a splinted right leg. He had clearly pissed himself at some point during the challenge process.
Unfortunately, he also had a backpack within easy reach.
We were not a fucking charity.
"Sarah, take and search the pack," I said quietly.
She blinked at me in the reflected light from the cart.
"Sarah, transition to handgun. Approach. Search the backpack. Make him do it, or do it yourself." I paused. "Or look for a new job."
She flinched and complied. Personal effects, no weapons.
"Leave him with it and come over here."
Just out of earshot, but where I could still keep easy watch, I quietly gave voice to what was on my mind.
"Sarah, what the actual fuck happened? By SOP there should be two dead bodies on the ground about halfway between Post 4 and where we took them into custody."
The Halt! command, given three times, was appropriate. But it should have been issued on the perimeter, not well inside it, by the post guard, who also should have opened fire.
His rifle worked, we had demonstrated that.
But his fitness to be a guard was now in question. As was Sarah's fitness to be a guard supervisor.
"Echo 18, call the Command Center. Status update."
"Scene secure," I called. "Three under observation." Not in custody. I hadn't made that particular decision yet.
"Copy," Wyatt - one of the day shift dispatchers - said quietly. He grasped the situation. This was at one level or another, a fuckup.
"Sarah?" I prodded.
"The post guard had the two at gunpoint when we pulled up. I dismounted to talk to him, he took his rifle to ready and they ran for it."
Holding people at gunpoint is extremely dangerous for all sorts of reasons. You can't shift your attention, not even for a moment. The guard should not have put his rifle up.
This explained why they had been able to run. It did not explain why Sarah had chosen not to open fire.
But I had made exactly the same decision - we had the strategic depth to stop two unarmed, or at most lightly armed, people before they could reach a building. And we had.
"We have nothing for them. You know that," I said quietly.
We had turned away hundreds and hundreds of people. Desperate, starving, sick. This was just three more.
There was no strategic reason we couldn't let them go. They had no special knowledge of our defenses. But we didn't have the resources to let them stay.
"I know," Sarah said miserably.
Likely the leg wasn't just broken. Likely he needed medical attention, which we wouldn't be providing. Certainly all three had that post-Firecracker Ultra Slim Fast diet and smell about them.
I gestured back to the perimeter. Sarah watched as I unbuckled the two prisoners.
I didn't bother separating them. This wasn't an interrogation.
"Who is your employer?" I asked her.
She seemed confused. I repeated the question.
"I haven't been to work since ..."
"Who is your employer?" Now was not the time to talk about the three day rule.
She named a company. Nobody I recognized.
I turned to him.
"Who is your employer?"
"Are you fucking retarded? Who the fuck cares! What the fuck is up with you people!"
Wrong answer, out of many possible wrong answers.
"You are both trespassing on private property during a time of national emergency. You are required to leave the premises now and never return."
Sarah raised her duty phone to take their pictures. I shook my head. There were hundreds of people we hadn't taken pictures of, and yet trespassed. The extra drama was not worth the extra sliver of intel. If we really needed faces, the megapixel cameras at H5 had them cold -- and knowing Wyatt, he'd already captured imagery of them. Because, Wyatt.
"Are you fucking dense? You hit me in the fucking leg! We need help!"
"Do you know where the San Jose Fire Station at Bernal and Monterey Highway is?" I asked.
"Who cares about some fucking fire station?"
"If you want someone to look at that young man's broken leg, the firefighters at the San Jose Fire Station at Bernal Road and Monterey Highway will look at his leg for you. During daytime hours. It will probably be daylight by the time you carry your friend there."
"You fucking broke _my_ leg!" he shouted, hands cuffed behind his back, while standing on the allegedly broken leg.
I had been very careful when I struck him. His leg certainly hurt, a lot. But I wanted him to be able to walk. To walk away. To leave the site and our lives.
"You are, all three of you, trespassing on private property during a state of national emergency. You can carry him away or he can die of thirst where he lies in the bushes. If you don't leave, you will be shot. We are going to take the handcuffs off you and you are going to leave. Whether you pick up your friend and carry him to safety is up to you. Whether you take him to the fire station or not is up to you. Whether you live or die is up to you.
"Leave or you will be shot," I repeated.
"Sarah, take her handcuffs off. Ma'am, when we take your handcuffs off, go to the bushes. If your man here decides to commit suicide, you will have to try to drag your injured friend away, or leave him to die."
I drew my pistol. Sarah took off her handcuffs.
Instantly she bolted for the bushes.
Then I looked the man right in the eyes.
"My name is [Echo 18] and I'm the security here. What is your name?"
"Fuck you, you're crazy."
"I prefer to know the names of the people who force me to murder them. What is your name, sir?"
"Fuck you!"
"Guards! Rifles at ready, take cover. Sarah, hostile handcuff removal, use extreme caution, break contact as soon as clear. I may have to fire at any moment, watch your angles.
"Suspect, you are going to run away or I am going to shoot you dead."
I leveled the handgun at his face.
Sarah wrenched him around, and he kept looking over his shoulder at my gun. This gave her the chance to do a foot sweep, knock him to the ground, kneel on the small of his back and unlock the first cuff. While he was still stunned, she unlocked the second cuff, removed the pair, and ran quickly to the far side of the cart, putting it between them, where she drew her own handgun and waited.
He looked at me as he got up.
I looked at him back, right in the eyes, holding my pistol in two hands Weaver-stance, and decided on two in the chest.
"George!" the woman howled from the bushes. It was a hopeless, mournful shout. The kind of shout you make after the man has been shot.
He flinched, turned away, and walked towards the bushes.
I holstered and transitioned to rifle at low ready. I had to holster twice; the first time my hand was shaking too badly.
The two started carrying the young man - husband, wife and son? - away.
I slung my rifle.
"I expect an incident report from all four of you within the next hour. Sarah, return to Dispatch and turn over watch early to your relief. Meet me in the cafeteria for breakfast at 0630. Your driver will remain here to augment Post #4 until shift change."
I then walked to the Facilities cart to return it.
Amazingly enough, my legs still worked.
I wondered if I would meet George again.
If I did, one of us would certainly die.
His eyes had promised me that.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-06 05:43 am (UTC)Offenses
Severe: failure to follow SOP for enforcing the perimeter against intrusion. Failure to obey this direction calls into question your fitness as a guard. Had the intruders been armed, this could have not only cost you your life, but endangered the lives of other contractor and Employee responders.
Serious: by inattention to duty, permitting two intruders held at gunpoint to leave your control and move deeper into the campus. The response to this lapse required a campus alert level change to Alert 3, involving many persons both within and outside the Security Department, and calling our control over the perimeter into question.
Moderate: while obeying an order to fire, directing your rifle in such a way that rounds fired could possibly endanger off campus persons, instead of using nearby hills as a proper backstop.
Corrective Action:
By 1100 today you will inform [Echo 18] whether you wish to select Option A or Option B, or departure from site. Failure to select any option will result in dismissal from employment for cause and a requirement to leave the campus, never to return, within 12 hours.
Option A: resign your employment with the [Company] and your status in the Security force. Simultaneously apply - without this department's endorsement - for employment to the Space Planning and/or Janitorial contractor, or another approved on campus vendor. Note that if neither contractor decides to hire you within 3 days / 72 hours, you will then have 12 hours to leave the site, as above. If you select this option and remain on campus, you will be restricted from participation in any emergency response organization except Stretcher Bearer. Any application you make for permission to possess or carry any weapon will be declined for six months, subject to review after that time by Echo 18 personally, with no guarantee of approval after that date, only reconsideration.
Option B: remain employed by the [Company] as a member of the Security Force. Be suspended from duty for misconduct for three days / 72 hours during which you will complete the following steps: re-take the self study Ethics course and the Ethics of Deadly Force course; pass examination by the Training Department including a successful run through the Kill House; requalify on physical fitness and firearms range requirement; and after all of these, pass a one-on-one personal interview with Echo 18 which will comprise the classroom portion of the Ethics course if you are successful. Failure to meet all of these requirements will result in dismissal for cause and default to Option A or site departure as above.
In either case, if you succeed in remaining on site under either Option A or Option B, you will spend at least four (4) hours of non-work time per day for the next two weeks working as directed either to dig trench line (Option A) or guard others digging trench line or improving perimeter defenses (Option B).
Comments:
We do the ugly things so that the Employees don't have to. If you had followed the Standing Operating Procedure, it is likely - not certain - that the intruders would not have breached the perimeter. Having decided to breach the perimeter and ignore repeated warnings of the imminent use of deadly force, the intruder(s) then take their fate into their own hands.
The seriousness of your refusal to open fire cannot be underestimated. If you have a moral or conscientious objection, you cannot and must not and shall not carry a weapon on this campus! This is a respectable personal position but your continued presence here must then meet other criteria.
If on the other hand your refusal to open fire was the result of freezing up, cowardice, squeamishness or indecision, it is clear that you cannot remain a member of the Security Department until these character flaws are fully addressed. If your fellow team members cannot depend on you to defend their lives, how can you depend on them to defend yours?
Be certain to notify Echo 18 of your decision by 1100 hours today. Failure to notify him personally shall result in your removal from the campus by 2300 hours tonight, and no excuses will be accepted.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-06 05:44 am (UTC)Gulp.
"Two intruders ran past the fence line and the guard on duty, and were intercepted and removed."
"I don't need to know more. Address the deficiencies."
"Yes, sir."