Men of the Law and Shield: Chapter 2 – The Process of the Job

Chapter 2 – The Process of the Job

Today, our squad is tasked with patrolling through the streets as a city-wide festival is happening. Cole and Max are patrolling in one area of the festival while Kurtis wants me to be with him in another. Right now, we’re near a police stand where officers are both standing by to help people in need, trying to recruit more people, and signing people up for the police academy.

“It’s always good to see people interested in joining,” I say.

“Eh. The academy will separate the fakes from those who are really meant to be officers,” Kurtis says.

“Really? You think some people aren’t earnestly joining?”

“Yes, I do. Because of the rumors surrounding the new president, they think joining the police is a short way to join the mafia, or the family, and they’ll get all the benefits associated with it. Sure, you may get honor and government pay, but more is expected of you as an officer than with the alternative. You have more eyes on you, and you’re expected to be more restrained and by the book rather than acting on your own conscience.”

“Hmm. I guess you’re right.”

“Damn right I am. Now, don’t keep your attention on them and just watch the crowds.”

“Are you expecting trouble?”

“I’m always expecting trouble. There’s always a law being broken somewhere and someone out there for a warrant for their arrest. The smart ones stay out of view, committing their crimes in the shadows, or using events or crowds like this as a distraction to move around or get what they want.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open, sir.”

Some time passes, and I see Kurtis intently staring into the crowd.

“Did you see that, Xander?”

“No. What am I supposed to see?”

“Follow me.”

Following Kurtis, he goes up to a woman and grabs her wrist, saying to her, “I saw you grab that doll off the vendor’s table. Put it back, and I’ll act like you didn’t take anything.”

“I’m sorry! I just took it without thinking since my daughter wanted it, but I couldn’t afford it. I can hardly afford to get by as is, but don’t mind my ramblings. I’ll put it back,” the woman says.

We’re now noticing the little girl with the woman, who looks related to her and looks curiously at us. Kurtis stares at her, then brings her back to the doll vendor’s table, asks how much the doll is, and pays.

“Was that doll taken? I don’t remember selling it,” the vendor asks.

“It’s paid for,” Kurtis says before taking the woman away from the crowd and telling her, “Don’t teach your daughter the wrong lessons or else you’ll regret it later in life. People can be more charitable than you think if you ask them for help. Understood?”

“I understand! Thank you so much, officer!” the woman says.

Before the woman can tell her daughter to thank Kurtis, the daughter hugs and thanks him.

“You’re welcome,” Kurtis says with a smile.

The two walk away with smiles on their faces.

“That was very nice of you, sir. Why were you so gentle with them, if you don’t mind me asking?” I ask.

“Did you really look at that lady? Notice the tone in her voice and choice of words? Some people commit crimes without thinking, based on emotion. Something small like that shouldn’t put her in jail or even a fine,” Kurtis explains.

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you thinking I’d punish her based on what the law says? I’m a by-the-book kind of man, but I’m not heartless. We have to apply the law appropriately, not blindly without thinking about the circumstances and people associated with it.”

“Yes, sir…”

In the crowd, I notice something weird happening. Kurtis notices my attention being taken away from him and turns to where I’m looking.

“I see what you’re seeing, Xander. I’ll let you handle this one.”

Going to what I see, I grab a man out of the crowd.

“Hello. Excuse me?” I say.

“Y-yes, officer? How can I help you?” the man asks.

“I remember your face on the news and in our database. You have a warrant.”

“I know about that, but it’s for minor stuff, isn’t it? I just owe some parking and speeding tickets, is all.”

“Your warrant also includes violence for some fights you got into.”

“Those were because I was defending people I knew. Is that so wrong?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that a warrant issued for violence means that I have to take you in, regardless of intent.”

I grab the man’s arms and cuff his hands.

“Ah, come on. If you know about them, then you know I’m a good person!”

“A good person doesn’t have to say who they are or try to avoid the consequences of their actions. Now, come on, and stop making this difficult.”

The man keeps trying to excuse everything he did as I take him to a nearby group of cops to take him to the police station for processing.

After they leave, Kurtis says, “Why didn’t you go easier on that guy in comparison to the mother? I know the situation behind his warrant and that he was actually protecting and fighting for the people he cared about.”

“The mother was willing to make up for her mistake, while that guy was trying to avoid the consequences of it,” I say.

Kurtis pats me on the back.

“Good work. If you had let your empathy get the best of you, I’d hit you across the head. Besides, he shouldn’t have tried to take justice into his own hands. He could’ve gotten more than himself and the people he was after hurt and caused more trouble for the people he cared about.”

“You’re right. I guess you really know the difference between a true and a false confession.”

“Yes, sir. I need to know it for when I go to confession. I wouldn’t be able to call myself a Catholic otherwise.”

“I’d call you a fake one if you said you didn’t go at all. God blessed us with both examples of confrontation that I wanted to show you today. Glory be to God!”

“Glory be.”

Some time passes, and nothing else seems to happen in the crowd. Kurtis guesses that the public displays of us picking out and dealing with people are scaring the others who may be thinking about stealing or crossing our path. Police headquarters calls us and tells our squad that an incident related to the man with a warrant we just arrested has just popped up, and since we handled him, we get the honor of handling this new situation. We thank them, and the squad heads out in two separate police cars to the house we’re told to go. Now in a poor area of town with broken sidewalks and doors and windows with metal bars over them, we come across four people arguing with one another, and the argument quickly turns violent as they shove one another, throw punches in the air, and get louder, saying they’re going to hurt the other.

“Police! Break up your fighting and tell me what’s going on. One at a time,” Kurtis says.

Both sides complain to us about what the other did, then start complaining to one another again as if we’re a minor inconvenience to their fight. They start pushing one another again, and this time, one of them pulls out a makeshift-looking gun that explodes into pieces as soon as the trigger is pulled, making sharp pieces of metal fly into the faces of the four people. We start to arrest them and then ask them where they got the makeshift gun from. They mention the man I arrested at the parade, giving us a reason to go to his house. We call for backup, who take away the four people while we go to investigate the house.

The man’s house isn’t too far from here, so we walk there on foot after getting the address from headquarters. Going to the one-story house, we find the door locked, so Cole breaks it open with his battering ram.

“Whew! This guy must be really a gun fan or sprays his home with gunpowder-scented perfume,” Max comments.

“He has all gun models on these walls and figures of fictional characters holding them. Safe to say he’s a big fan. Oh, he has one that I’ve been searching for,” Cole says.

“You two can fangirl about guns with your mutual friend later. Let’s head to the basement. See if that’s where he makes his defective toys,” Kurtis says.

The door downstairs is also locked, but because it’s metal, Cole’s battering ram can’t break it down, so Max uses his lockpicking skills to open it for us. Inside the basement, we find a bunch of gun pieces and a variety of ammo, bags of cash, and a handwritten list of contacts with codenames.

“Didn’t think I’d find nice photos, a kitchen, and a bed down here. It’s like this is where he really lives,” Cole says.

“Look at the photos. Two of them are the people we just saw in the fight,” Max points out.

“Look over here, boys,” Kurtis says, bringing our attention to a shooting range.

At the shooting range, we find a bunch of broken weapons, some dried blood, medical supplies, and pictures of people with bullet holes in them, some of whom are two of the people the other two were fighting with.

“Looks like he’s not the best at making guns,” Max says.

“Yes, but he still makes them, and obviously has targets,” Cole says.

“He has a whole list and plans,” I say, finding a list of names and plans.

I bring attention to a mess of papers I find on a table with bullets and gun pieces on them.

“This guy has an entire war plan with targets, Plan As, and Plan Bs,” Cole says.

“I recognize some of these faces from the news and warrants. From what I can see, it looks like he’s trying to take over this neighborhood and drive out the criminals,” I say.

“He was planning to murder them, and given that one of the people that he knows has one of his custom guns, it means that the others are involved. Let’s see what they have to say,” Kurtis says.

The squad goes to interrogate everyone we arrested, and everyone who’s involved with the man who makes these makeshift guns admits that they were going to rid the neighborhood of criminals. They admit to being criminals themselves, but justify it by saying they’ve turned over a new leaf and will prove it by using their guns to protect the neighborhood, just like the men of honor. Despite their claims, everyone involved is going to be charged with conspiracy to murder by default, given what they say and the evidence we found.

After we arrest everyone involved with the conspiracy, Kurtis pats my back, back at the office, and says, “See how one thing leads to another? This is all because of you, and you deserve all the credit, Xander.”

“Thank you, sir. Just doing my job,” I say.

“Don’t say that. Otherwise, you won’t get anything,” Max comments.

“You don’t get anything because you’re always rewarding yourself.”

“It ain’t a sin to reward yourself for doing a good job.”

“Then start doing a good job like Xander here, and you can reward yourself all you want, and get your legs off your desk.”

Kurtis throws Max’s legs off his desk, making him fall off his chair. Cole laughs at the sight, and Kurtis and I try not to laugh, while Kurtis helps Max off the floor, and Max quietly thanks him and promises to do a better job.