Chapter 1:
My whole life, all I ever wanted to be was a cop. Even though the L.A.P.D. has one of the worst reputations what with the Rampart scandal and the Rodney King beating, I've met more good cops than I have bad. I guess my family had something to do with my decision as well; my grandfather was a cop and my Uncle Jimmy and Cousin Darnell are cops as well though they're in Connecticut. Not only was it my family that influenced me but also two years of college seemed to be my limit; I was bored there and didn't feel like I was going anywhere. I single-handedly proved the myth that everybody should go to college is just that, a myth.
The day I pinned the badge on was one of the proudest moments of my life. My friends, my realfriends were proud of me as well as my family. The other guys who I thought were my friends derided me and called me "sell out;" they said a black man joining the L.A.P.D. might as well have been like a black man joining the Ku Klux Klan. Naturally, we're not friends anymore but I still wanted the chance to prove them wrong.
Two weeks after graduation I was riding patrol with my training officer Sergeant Walters. It was a sunny day and we were cruising downtown L.A. which was about twenty minutes from my hometown in Gardena if traffic was miraculously good on the 110 Freeway. "It's not like how it is in the academy fish, it's mean out here on these streets, you understand?" He said to me. Fish was short for "new fish," what they called the new guys. If I had my druthers, I'd rather be called rookie, fish had way too many bad connotations.
"Yes Sergeant" was my reply as I kept my eye on the streets for any trouble.
A squawk came on the radio as we turned on Pico Boulevard. "See the man on Olympic about a possible 211." was the call that came through. "See the man" meant interview a citizen about a crime and a "211" meant a robbery of some sort.
"Let's roll Jones!" Sergeant Walters said as he turned the cruiser around and fired up the roof. A smile crossed my lips as the acceleration pressed me into my seat. Out of my two weeks, I'd constantly handled calls like that and some routine disturbing the peace calls, nothing really dangerous. Truth to tell, I'd always thought police work was a lot more exciting. As much as I was told to abandon all notions about what I saw on T.V. by my family and the academy, I still couldn't help but feel a little disappointed there wasn't more car chases and shoot outs. Then again, that was probably me being young and stupid.
As expected, talking to Mr. Wembley the victim of an apparent break-in was a little boring. Robbery would investigate his claims but unfortunately for him, there were so many robberies in the city, it would be a miracle if they catch the guy. Still, we'd all do our best. The sarge and I would drive routine patrol and keep an eye out for anything suspicious.
While talking to Mr. Wembley's neighbors, the radio starting squawking in the car like nothing I'd ever heard before. The chatter on there was fast pace and confusing. I told the person I was interviewing, Mrs. Rodriguez, an attractive older lady to hold on while I investigated the matter. "All units, all units, this is a code red situation, repeat this is a code red situation! Report to the nearest checkpoint and standby to receive orders!" A code red situation meant the shit was about to hit the fan and they were usually reserved for natural disasters and riots. Simultaneously, I saw people almost in unison; stare at television sets that were already on. I couldn't quite make out what they were all watching but it was eerie like out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something.
I'd heard about Code Reds in the academy and we were all taught about riot and crowd control but I never trulyexpected to ever have to use it. When I told Sergeant Walters my thoughts he smirked and said, "You're in L.A. remember?" I nodded and we went back into the car. We drove away but the radio continue to chatter almost nonsensically as the dispatcher was shouting orders. This didn't exactly inspire a lot of confidence with me and I could tell the Sarge wasn't exactly all too enthused either.
"Turn on the radio." He said as he turned down the two way. The car radio was always set on the gospel station. Not what I wanted to hear but he was the ranking officer and I didn't have a choice since he was the ranking officer. What I heard was too unbelievable to fathom. At first I thought it was some sort of joke but as I switched from station to station, the reports were all the same. Walters and I looked at each other with the same expression of worry.
I never heard the old radio show by Orson Welles but I imagine the panic felt by everybody who'd heard was much the same as ours. The subject matter might as well have been the same too from what the reporters fearful words conveyed right before he was abruptly cut off with a scream as his last sound. Even though we could still scarcely believe it, aliens were invading Los Angeles.