The lieutenant says"Since your here early I'll send you down to Norman to relieve third shift. I was going to send Albrecht but she isn't here yet". The rookie dutifully complies and heads out the door to find and load up his pool car. When he heads out, he doesn't really know where he is and has a vague sense of where the hospital is. He ends up taking a route very much out of the way since that is all he is familiar with. The rookie eventually blunders upon the hospital. He parks on the far opposite site of the wing where the officer he is supposed to relieve is. Man, what a start to the day.
Now the rookie is new, but certainly not inexperienced in the ways of the world. He is a second generation police officer. His father served with distinction for more that thirty years on the department. His father was also a combat veteran in Vietnam, serving as an elite Airborne Ranger. He has grown up around the life. This is his calling. The rookie also served in the military himself. He had planned on joining the Marine Corps but was talked out of it by his experienced father. "You don't want to be a grunt like I was, join the Air Force of Navy and learn a skill you can use". He did join the Navy, with images of Maverick and Goose in his mind. He did communications, not exactly thrilling but it taught him about responsibility and taking care of business as a man. He is almost thirty years old himself and is raising his four year old son on his own. He has plenty of life experience.
The rookie somehow manages to find the room where the third shift officer is waiting. This officer is notorious for being a cocky jerk and is no different this time. The turnover consists of "here is a cookie, I'm out". "Thanks for the information, dick" thinks the rookie. The relieved officer walks away and the rookie is left guarding his prisoner. He was briefly told about the guy he was to guard by the lieutenant and he was on his way out the door. This guy had robbed someone or something and got hurt. He was in the hospital to heal up enough to get booked into jail. He is a skinny weaselly looking white guy, likely a meth head. He is covered in bandages from almost head to toe. He is injured on both forearms, his head, and right thigh. The rookie dismisses this mess of a person and sits down to make sure he doesn't hobble off. This guy is barely held together with stitches, how boring.
What had not been explained to the rookie by his boss or the officer he relived was that he was guarding a very violent and dangerous man. He would learn this much too late. This man was a serial home invasion robber. He had preyed on the elderly and weak. He would pick a victim, usually elderly women, and knock on their front door. He would spin a tale about how his truck had broke down and ask if he would use the victim's phone. The victim being kind and perhaps a bit naive would allow the predator into their home and the violence would commence. He had victimized three elderly women and one elderly man. Each time he would get more violent. The first few he would just use his hands to beat them. He would demand their money, checks, or anything of value. He would beat them until he was satisfied he had stolen all he could, then flee like a wolf from the hen house. The male victim had been beaten with a crowbar and was still in the hospital recovering from the edge of death itself.
The predator was not so lucky in picking his fifth victim. She was elderly, but she was a sassy large black woman. She was very stereotypical in a good way, a strong black momma. She would prove to be quite a warrior when her time came. He knocked on his unbending victim's front door like the rest. She was a kind and compassionate woman and she let him in because that's what a Jesus would expect her to do. Once he gets in the front door, she knows this was a mistake. His demeanor changes, he is screaming at her with threats of pain and death if he doesn't get all that he wants. He pulls out a knife. He will cut her if he has to. He thrusts the knife at her to let her know just how serious he is.
I don't know what Big Black Momma was thinking when all this began to go so wrong in her living room. I'd like to think she was scared but also thinking something sassy like "I'm not gonna take this shit off no skinny white boy in my own house!" I can hope these things but I'm certain is was something much more primal. The most basic instinct that every creature has inside them, "survive at all costs".
The predator thrusts the knife and the Big Black Momma again. "Where's your fucking money bitch! I'll kill you if you don't get it now!". Big Black Momma is scared and she is cornered. There is no flight, only fight. So fight she does. She reaches out and grabs the predators knife by the blade itself. She severely cuts her own hand as she takes the weapon away from her would be murderer. She removes the knife from the deep would she herself caused. She grabs the knife by the handle.With a mighty burst of adrenaline only available when death is at hand, she goes to work. She stabs, cuts, slashes, and punches this little twerp until he is a leaking mess on the ground. She fights like a desperate beast. She wins a glorious battle of the utmost importance, the battle for her very own life. Once she has thoroughly emasculated this criminal, she runs from her own home and to her neighbors house to get help. She is frantic, bloodied, but very much victorious and alive. The serpent gathers what little is left of his dignity and slithers out to his truck and flees.
The shamed predator drives to his sisters house and tells her a story about how he was jumped by some guys and she takes him to the hospital in Norman, well out of the rookies jurisdiction. Through luck and a detective going above and beyond the normal routine, the serpent is discovered and his crimes revealed. Big Black Momma carved him like a Christmas turkey, so he will be at the hospital until he is released to go to jail for his string of violent robberies on the weak and helpless. These are things the rookie does not know as he sits and tried to find something on TV in the hospital room to pass the time.
The rookie is sitting here, bored. He is full of energy. "Do you know how much crime is out there right now? I am missing all of it babysitting an invalid" he thinks to himself. The rookie does his best to ignore the weasel he is burdened with. The weasel tells him that he doesn't know what this is all about, and that he didn't do anything wrong. The rookie mumbles something about how he doesn't know either and focuses on The History Channel.
The doctor comes into the room at around nine that morning. The supposed weasel is released to go to jail. The rookie seems to think he needs a form that he has left in his car to be signed by the doctor. He doesn't want to have to waste another minute with this guy because he didn't get something signed. He sees a prison guard around the corner. They are sort of like the police, so he walks over and asks if she can keep an eye on his prisoner while he runs out to his car real quick. He leaves the sight of his prisoner for just a brief moment. When he returns to the room, he sees his prisoner has gotten up and is standing by the door. He has a different demeanor and a look in his eye. The rookie later remembers this moment and realizes that he missed a major red flag.
The rookie handcuffs his weasel to the bed and runs to his car. He gets the form signed that he didn't even need in the first place. He gathers the prisoners items and uncuffs him from the bed. The rookie starts to cuff his prisoner in the standard way but sees there is a problem. The prisoners left wrist and forearm is so swollen and bandaged that no cuff will fit around it. The rookie thinks for a minute. His lack of experience convinces him that this prisoner is no match for the rookie. This guy can't even run, his leg is hurt. They start the long walk to the rookies car.
The rookie had parked on the opposite side of the building where is prisoner was being treated. The rookie and his pet weasel weave through the labyrinth of halls and walkways towards the police car and the trip to jail. The weasel stops several times, apologizing because his leg is hurt so bad. "I just need a short rest, my leg is really messed up. What is all this about again? What did I supposedly do?". With no experience to work from and the false confidence of a newly commissioned officer, the rookie buys the whole charade.
They finally make it to the front door after an agonizingly slow walk through the entire hospital. The weasel sees the daylight and knows he is going to prison. He knows his crimes and has fooled this rookie chump. The weasel become a cheetah and dashes for his freedom with an all or nothing desperation.
The rookie is shocked and angered. "How dare this weasel run from me!" he thinks. "Doesn't he know who I am? I'm the police!" The rookie drops his paperwork and the predator's belongings and gives chase. He draws his expandable baton with embarrassed rage. "Stop motherfucker!" he screams as he and the predator pass two doctors. "Stop motherfucker!" the rookie screams again.
He begins to gain on the predator, for he is fresh from the police academy and likely in the best shape of his life. He closes on the predator and swings his stick at his thighs. This trips up the predator and the rookie tried to tackle his escaping prisoner. The predator falls gracefully into a perfect roll and is instantly back to his feet and running away. The rookie falls into a heap and is not as fast getting to his feet to pursue again.
The rookie gets out his radio to call for help. He yells into the radio, giving the situation. There is no answer. He tries again. Still nothing. There will be no response. The radio is still on the channel of his home division more than twenty miles away and well out of range. The rookie realizes this and understands that there is no help to call. Whatever happens this day is solely going to be between him and the predator.
The predator has gained a valuable twenty yard advantage over the rookie from his advantageous fall and recovery. He zigs and zags across the parking lot. He begins to run north but sees a hospital security guard. The predator turns west as the security guard flees away from the escaping prisoner. The rookie sees this and cannot believe the cowardice he has just witnessed.
The predator continues west and crosses the busy street adjacent to the hospital. The officer is behind him and gaining ground. Cars slam on their brakes and skid to a halt as the predator focuses only on escape and the rookie focuses only on his fleeing prisoner. Both narrowly avoid being run down by morning traffic.
The predator sees a chance for escape. Across the street is an old man sitting in his car. The car is running. He runs to the passenger side of his final victim's car. He opens the door, gets in, and locks the door just as the rookie catches up to him. The game has changed, the stakes have been raised, the predator has just sealed his fate.
The rookie gets to the door and finds it locked. He looks in the passenger side window and sees the predator trying to sit in the lap of a tall elderly man. The man has an oxygen tube attached to his nose. The rookie would later be told this man had a minor heart attack just the week before, He was here waiting for his wife in the clinic nearby. He is in the wrong place at the wrong time. The predator has chosen yet another weak and helpless victim.
The rookie knows the old man's life is in jeopardy. The old man is tall and stout and in his younger years could have likely pounded this little turd into dust. These years have long passed, however. Today, he is in danger. The predator has positioned himself partially in the old mans lap, with one leg pressing the accelerator to the floor. The other leg is on the center console. The old man has his foot pressed on the brake with all that he has in him. The car is in gear. It is a battle of strength and endurance that the old man cannot win.
The rookie looks in the passenger side window and realizes the true danger of the situation as the cars wheels begin to spin since the accelerator and brake are both pressed to the floor. He screams at the predator to get out of the car. This is pointless and he knows it. Time starts to slow down, the noise of the city around him disappears. He looks down at his stick in his right hand. He throws it to the ground for now he understands exactly what must be done to end this reign of violence and terror. If he lets this predator escape with his fragile victim, the victim will surely be in grave danger. The rookie would betray his oath to protect the innocent if he does not act decisively.
The rookie calmly draws his weapon. It is a Glock 22. A .40 caliber pistol that has been studied, babied, and most importantly mastered during the police academy. The rookie is an excellent marksman, tested through all the stress his training officers could simulate.
Through the passenger window, he sees a target that he cannot risk taking. The predator and old man are almost one body. The rookie moves to the front of the car, wheels still spinning and the car lurching forward in violent jolts. Again he orders the prisoner out. Seconds seem like minutes. The rookie sees the predator partially in the old man's lap. He cannot risk shooting through him and into the innocent victim behind him. The rookie sees a chance though. The predators lower right belly is the only visible target that is not in front of the old man. The rookie calmly raises his weapon, lines up the most delicate of shots, and gently squeezes the trigger. There is no sound, he feels no recoil, he only sees the bullet ever so slowly exit the barrel of his weapon. He sees the round slowly rotate and advance towards the target. It seems like it takes minutes before it hits the windshield. It goes through the windshield with no deflection. The rookie sees his bullet slowly enter the predator. It hits exactly where he had aimed. The rookie knows this is a very minor wound and the predator is still determined to escape with his final victim. The wound does cause the predator to flinch slightly towards the passenger side of the car and away from the old man. The predator has given the rookie the perfect target.
The rookie's weapon cycles and he lines up his following shot. He must stop the threat, end this chaos, save this victim from certain death or dismemberment. He gently pulls the trigger again. Time hardly advances. Sound does not exist. The round again leaves the barrel, slowly rotating towards the windshield again. The rookie can see every single detail of this bullet, every single rotation is clear in his mind. His aim is just and true. The bullet passes through the windshield again, expands with deadly precision, and enters the predator right in the center of his heart. He sees the predator turn an odd gray color almost instantly. He sees the life drain from his body. He sees his soul descend into the depths of Hell.
The old man sloughs off the dead man from his lap. His lifeless mass falls to the passenger side door. He unlocks the door and the rookie opens it. The vanquished predator falls to the pavement like bag of trash. There is no blood, no gore, just a pile of skin and bones that were formerly used for evil. He looks into the car and asks the old man if he is ok. He replies "I guess so, but who is going to fix my windshield". "How appreciative" thinks the rookie.
Across the street the rookie sees two security guards, one of which ran from the battle just moment ago. Cowards, useless yellow cowards. They stand on the curb on the opposite side of the street like obedient purse dogs, content to just observe from safety. "Call an ambulance, asshole!" yells the rookie. They say they already have.
Time returns to normal. Details begin to fade and blur as the adrenaline goes away. The investigation begins and eventually ends. It was a good shoot. A life was saved, a life with a name and family. The rookie's career has just begun.
**********
This rookie is long gone. A decade has passed. The dreams and nightmares have faded and are mostly gone. His hair is gray. He is a seasoned veteran now. He has saved other lives in much less dramatic fashion. He continues to reflect on that day ten years ago. He has always believed it was just, the strong defending the weak from harm. The predator chose his path and chose his fate. It was our destiny.
"But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the evildoer"
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