GWOT 2 - Code 3 Cover
May. 27th, 2019 09:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyGWOT 2 - Code 3 Cover
"Industrial resources shall be the last resource requested and the first resource released." - Santa Clara County Mutual Aid Plan
It is a holiday in May. We remember and honor those who have given their lives for our nation.
And I'm not much on either remembering or honoring this week. But the propaganda is short stroking it for all their little censorous beating hearts are worth.
We've battened down the hatches and given most people the day off. This means Employees catching up on chores like laundry and sleep.
I am catching up on observation tickets, the utterly necessary but utterly humdrum bane of my existence, at a desk in the supervisor's area when I hear the phone ring.
Not the inside phone. The outside phone. The one hooked up to the public phone system.
The dispatcher turns pale and hands off the call to the duty supervisor.
I pick up a phone, press three keys and start listening in.
"... activation for mutual aid. Requesting agency is Homeland..."
Fuck. Me. What.
"... staging has been established at Highway 280 and 7th Street for responding agencies. The request is for all available Type I, II or III special tactics teams; Type I or II arrest and control teams; armored vehicles; and ambulances."
That last is why we are getting the call at all. Before the Firecracker, we had an officially licensed and permitted ambulance. (Someone stole it, which is why my personal van became the ambulance.)
A mutual aid request is when an agency is way deep over their heads and needs help, badly enough to admit it. It's when 911 calls 911.
For Homeland to call mutual aid meant something truly massive.
Right now they were asking. Give it another twenty minutes and they might be demanding, and taking note of who didn't respond.
I unmuted.
"This is Security Captain [Echo 18]. We can send three Type III tactics teams, one Type III arrest and control team, two armored vehicles and one ambulance. ETA for all assets in convoy will be No Later Than 1400 hours. Call this number for travel net."
She acknowledged and hung up. I immediately called a Tactical Alert. Then I started making phone calls.
First to the Reaction Force commander, explaining that I needed his three worst teams. Not, say again, NOT, his best.
Then to the SLE. The conversation was brief but pungent.
"I need to steal half the security force and fifteen Employees for eight to twelve hours. We do this or Homeland."
"Fuck. OK."
Then to the Fire Brigade, giving specific instructions on how to staff the ambulance and with who.
Then the Motor Pool.
"Sir, just to be sure, you want us to _dismount_ the .50 caliber from the Hate Truck and replace it with the Quaker Gun? It currently has the machine gun mounted. You want to _download_ the machine gun and _upload_ the fake piece of metal?"
"Confirm. I want to roll Quaker."
"OK," came the puzzled reply.
Because we had rehearsed, we were ready to roll in twenty minutes.
The Reaction Force took over the Security Control Center. This was as planned. The guards and clerks and jerks were in uniform and getting their gear. We were the arrest and control team. They would defend the site until our return.
If we returned.
I gave my orders personally to the Reaction Team leaders, Arturo (commanding the arrest and control team) and Janine (commanding the ambulance and the three medics).
"You will do EXACTLY what you are ordered to do by the Incident Command. You will not think. You will not have an opinion. You will report to Staging as a resource, you will go where they tell you to go and do what they tell you to do. Your personnel will do the same. This order is a deadly force order. You will enforce it by force up to and including deadly force. That explicitly includes authority to execute your own personnel.
"When you are released from the Incident, you will laager up in the safest nearby location until we are all released. Then and only then will we return to the site. As a convoy unit.
"You will notify me immediately if any member of the response team is injured, killed, detained or executed.
"Keep your Goddamn eyes open and keep your Goddamn mouths shut. Keep OpSec. We don't talk about our site or what we have or what we do. Type III tac teams can search, clear, detain and assault, but not in a NBC or IED environment. Type III arrest and control teams can process up to 100 prisoners per hour. A BLS ambulance can transport two immediates or up to four minors. That's what you do. That's ALL you do. Do NOT innovate. Do NOT volunteer. Move."
The convoy rolled out the gate under my command. Hate Truck, fangs pulled, in the lead. Armored truck with tac team. Two conventional trucks with the security detachment. Armored truck with tac team. Ambulance with medics and the third tac team.
The leader looked askance when I told him to put his men in the ambulance.
"Sir, what about Geneva?"
"Fuck Geneva. You won't be carried into combat _by_ the ambulance."
So the ambulance lost its protections but we weren't committing a war crime, I had personally taped a huge X with duct tape over the red crosses on all four sides. I did this personally because if Homeland had a problem with it, I wanted them to shoot me and not anyone else.
Just before we rolled, I was handed a note. I read it and ate it immediately.
"Memorial Day parade was IED'd. Then gunfire. Many casualties. - W"
Well, that explained the call for mutual aid.
Homeland had seriously screwed the pooch. They'd tried to have a Memorial Day parade.
The freeways were fairly empty, as usual, as we rolled to Staging.
Staging was five police command SUVs, a National Guard command van, and a Homeland Incident Command vehicle (think big bus RV if you add five more satellite dishes) parked in an outward-facing circle.
I crisply dismounted, walked over and reported.
"[Echo 18], [Client] Security Detachment. Three Type III tactical teams. One Type III arrest and control team. One BLS ambulance. Two armored trucks. What is our assignment?"
The Staging officer - so identified by the big yellow vest that said STAGING on its back - blinked and asked me to repeat myself. I did.
"The Type III arrest and control team and the armored vehicles, and that thing, to the County Fairgrounds, South 10th Street. Report to the Operations Section Chief, Detention Operations. The three tac teams, as a unit, to Valley Medical Center San Jose. Report to VMC Security Manager for further assignment. The BLS ambulance, travel with, report to VMC San Jose for on campus transport."
I thought about the part of this that would suck most.
"Arturo, take command of the tac teams at VMC and keep track of the ambo. I am taking command of the arrest and control team personally. Let's roll."
The fairgrounds were utter chaos.
The first thing we saw when we rolled up to the Monterey Highway gate we'd been told to use was an upside down burning CHP cruiser in the street, with a tarp flung over a khaki-wearing body next to it.
Fair warning. It was on like Donkey Kong.
"Industrial resources shall be the last resource requested and the first resource released." - Santa Clara County Mutual Aid Plan
It is a holiday in May. We remember and honor those who have given their lives for our nation.
And I'm not much on either remembering or honoring this week. But the propaganda is short stroking it for all their little censorous beating hearts are worth.
We've battened down the hatches and given most people the day off. This means Employees catching up on chores like laundry and sleep.
I am catching up on observation tickets, the utterly necessary but utterly humdrum bane of my existence, at a desk in the supervisor's area when I hear the phone ring.
Not the inside phone. The outside phone. The one hooked up to the public phone system.
The dispatcher turns pale and hands off the call to the duty supervisor.
I pick up a phone, press three keys and start listening in.
"... activation for mutual aid. Requesting agency is Homeland..."
Fuck. Me. What.
"... staging has been established at Highway 280 and 7th Street for responding agencies. The request is for all available Type I, II or III special tactics teams; Type I or II arrest and control teams; armored vehicles; and ambulances."
That last is why we are getting the call at all. Before the Firecracker, we had an officially licensed and permitted ambulance. (Someone stole it, which is why my personal van became the ambulance.)
A mutual aid request is when an agency is way deep over their heads and needs help, badly enough to admit it. It's when 911 calls 911.
For Homeland to call mutual aid meant something truly massive.
Right now they were asking. Give it another twenty minutes and they might be demanding, and taking note of who didn't respond.
I unmuted.
"This is Security Captain [Echo 18]. We can send three Type III tactics teams, one Type III arrest and control team, two armored vehicles and one ambulance. ETA for all assets in convoy will be No Later Than 1400 hours. Call this number for travel net."
She acknowledged and hung up. I immediately called a Tactical Alert. Then I started making phone calls.
First to the Reaction Force commander, explaining that I needed his three worst teams. Not, say again, NOT, his best.
Then to the SLE. The conversation was brief but pungent.
"I need to steal half the security force and fifteen Employees for eight to twelve hours. We do this or Homeland."
"Fuck. OK."
Then to the Fire Brigade, giving specific instructions on how to staff the ambulance and with who.
Then the Motor Pool.
"Sir, just to be sure, you want us to _dismount_ the .50 caliber from the Hate Truck and replace it with the Quaker Gun? It currently has the machine gun mounted. You want to _download_ the machine gun and _upload_ the fake piece of metal?"
"Confirm. I want to roll Quaker."
"OK," came the puzzled reply.
Because we had rehearsed, we were ready to roll in twenty minutes.
The Reaction Force took over the Security Control Center. This was as planned. The guards and clerks and jerks were in uniform and getting their gear. We were the arrest and control team. They would defend the site until our return.
If we returned.
I gave my orders personally to the Reaction Team leaders, Arturo (commanding the arrest and control team) and Janine (commanding the ambulance and the three medics).
"You will do EXACTLY what you are ordered to do by the Incident Command. You will not think. You will not have an opinion. You will report to Staging as a resource, you will go where they tell you to go and do what they tell you to do. Your personnel will do the same. This order is a deadly force order. You will enforce it by force up to and including deadly force. That explicitly includes authority to execute your own personnel.
"When you are released from the Incident, you will laager up in the safest nearby location until we are all released. Then and only then will we return to the site. As a convoy unit.
"You will notify me immediately if any member of the response team is injured, killed, detained or executed.
"Keep your Goddamn eyes open and keep your Goddamn mouths shut. Keep OpSec. We don't talk about our site or what we have or what we do. Type III tac teams can search, clear, detain and assault, but not in a NBC or IED environment. Type III arrest and control teams can process up to 100 prisoners per hour. A BLS ambulance can transport two immediates or up to four minors. That's what you do. That's ALL you do. Do NOT innovate. Do NOT volunteer. Move."
The convoy rolled out the gate under my command. Hate Truck, fangs pulled, in the lead. Armored truck with tac team. Two conventional trucks with the security detachment. Armored truck with tac team. Ambulance with medics and the third tac team.
The leader looked askance when I told him to put his men in the ambulance.
"Sir, what about Geneva?"
"Fuck Geneva. You won't be carried into combat _by_ the ambulance."
So the ambulance lost its protections but we weren't committing a war crime, I had personally taped a huge X with duct tape over the red crosses on all four sides. I did this personally because if Homeland had a problem with it, I wanted them to shoot me and not anyone else.
Just before we rolled, I was handed a note. I read it and ate it immediately.
"Memorial Day parade was IED'd. Then gunfire. Many casualties. - W"
Well, that explained the call for mutual aid.
Homeland had seriously screwed the pooch. They'd tried to have a Memorial Day parade.
The freeways were fairly empty, as usual, as we rolled to Staging.
Staging was five police command SUVs, a National Guard command van, and a Homeland Incident Command vehicle (think big bus RV if you add five more satellite dishes) parked in an outward-facing circle.
I crisply dismounted, walked over and reported.
"[Echo 18], [Client] Security Detachment. Three Type III tactical teams. One Type III arrest and control team. One BLS ambulance. Two armored trucks. What is our assignment?"
The Staging officer - so identified by the big yellow vest that said STAGING on its back - blinked and asked me to repeat myself. I did.
"The Type III arrest and control team and the armored vehicles, and that thing, to the County Fairgrounds, South 10th Street. Report to the Operations Section Chief, Detention Operations. The three tac teams, as a unit, to Valley Medical Center San Jose. Report to VMC Security Manager for further assignment. The BLS ambulance, travel with, report to VMC San Jose for on campus transport."
I thought about the part of this that would suck most.
"Arturo, take command of the tac teams at VMC and keep track of the ambo. I am taking command of the arrest and control team personally. Let's roll."
The fairgrounds were utter chaos.
The first thing we saw when we rolled up to the Monterey Highway gate we'd been told to use was an upside down burning CHP cruiser in the street, with a tarp flung over a khaki-wearing body next to it.
Fair warning. It was on like Donkey Kong.
