All personnel that were present entered a briefing room and took their seats by white tables (which were in four rows of seven). Near the back of the room were two flat-screens attached to the roof for the officers who couldn't clearly see the projection at the front of the room. Berwald took his seat in the second row as his supervisor entered the room with papers in hand. She walked over to the podium by the projection screen and greeted everyone. She gave roll call, assigned their patrol sectors, and briefed them on any important details.
"Okay, surprise inspection time," she announced with a clap of her hands. On her cue, all the officers walked over to the walls and stood up straight. Shoulders high, chins up, feet together, arms at their sides, and straight-faced. Berwald towered over his colleagues, being the six-and-a-half-foot (6'6 ft./1.98m) tall giant that he was. The supervisor thoroughly checked each officer, inspecting their uniforms and gear, looking for the smallest imperfection on them. Berwald was always prepared for these surprise examinations. He would wake up extra early so he could have time for a quick shower, ironing his uniform, shining his shoes and insignia pins, removing any and all lint from his clothing, and making sure his sidearm was loaded and his flashlight was charged. When the supervisor got to him, she looked him up and down and told him to turn around so she could check his back-side. She examined his gear then moved on to the next officer. After she finished the inspection, the supervisor dismissed the officers and they proceeded to either their desks or their patrol cars. Berwald started his car and began patrol.
"Officer Oxenstierna, in service," he said into his radio.
"10-4," the dispatcher replied.
Berwald drove around, keeping an eye out for suspicious behavior. When everything seemed safe, he parked the automobile in an empty parking lot and began managing files and reports on the patrol car computer. Around two in the afternoon, the officer began scouting the sector once again. Suddenly a message came in through the radio:
"Possible burglary in progress at 1783, Jensen Street."
"Officer Oxenstierna en route." The police car zoomed down the road, sirens blaring, lights flashing. When he reached the scene, only one other officer was there, still asking a witness of what they saw. One of the neighbors had reported seeing a suspicious figure going to the backyard of the house. Other officers soon arrived and set a perimeter around the house. Berwald and the first officer checked the entrances, looking for signs of forced entry. The backdoor's lock was broken. The two officers cautiously entered the house, M&P 9's in hand, while the others investigated the surrounding area. Living room: empty. Kitchen: empty. After the first floor seemed clear, they split: Berwald would check the second floor and his partner would check the basement. Before he could even search the first room, Berwald heard a yell and gunfire from the other end of the house. He rushed to the source and found his fellow policeman lying at the bottom of the basement staircase. Bleeding. He crept down the stairs and quickly pulled back as two bullets flew into the wall. He returned the fire and heard a thud on the second shot. More policemen came into the basement, some surrounded the subdued burglar, others aided the wounded officer. After the scuffle had settled and the paramedics had taken the injured to the hospital, Berwald was given the task of informing the officer's family of his condition.
As he drove to the policeman's home, he rehearsed his lines in his head. Miss Stacey, I'm very sorry to inform you that your husband has been shot in the line of duty. We are unsure of the severity of his injuries and he is currently being treated at Matherson Hospital. He parked by the driveway of the Stacey household and walked onto the porch. He knocked on the door. Once the woman opened the door, her demeanor quickly changed from a greeting smile to a worried expression. She could tell Berwald was a bearer of bad news.
" Mrs. Stacey, I'm very sorry to tell you that your husband has been shot in the line of duty. We are unsure of the severity of his condition and he has been taken to Matherson Hospital."
The woman brought her hands to her face, covering her nose and mouth. Tears ran down her cheeks. Berwald, honestly, wasn't the best choice for such a task. Though he was careful in choosing his words, his intimidating aura and emotionless expression made him seem callous and distant. He stood there as she bawled her eyes out. She tried to quiet herself down.
"Matherson Hospital?" she asked.
"Yes."
There was a short silence. Mrs. Stacey faced the ground, put her hand on her forehead, and shook her head. She couldn't accept the fact that her husband had been shot. She couldn't accept the fact that her children may lose their father. She was trying so hard to stop from crying, but it couldn't be helped and she started bawling again. After her short burst of tears, she managed to suppress her emotions and stopped crying for the moment. She wiped her wet eyes with the palms of her hands. Berwald reached into one of his pockets and offered her a handkerchief. She shook her head, "No thank you." She cleared her throat.
"If there's anyone else you think needs to know, I could hel…"
"No, that's fine; I can make the calls myself." She sniffed. "Thank you, sir, for telling me."
"Let's just hope for the best."
She nodded her head and closed the door. Berwald walked off and got back into his patrol vehicle. This is probably the hardest part of being a cop. He started the car and went back to his normal duties.
Once his work was finished, he returned to the station. He entered the building and went over to his desk to see if there was any paperwork to be done.
"Uh, Be- Officer Oxenstierna, Ms. Cassidy wants you in her office," said one of his coworkers, standing behind him.
He walked into his supervisor's office, closing the door behind him. "You needed me for something?" he asked.
"Yeah, your hours have been changed; you'll now be working third shift. Come back at eleven p.m."
"Yes, ma'am." Next, Berwald signed out and drove home so he could recharge for his new shift.
Berwald reenacted his morning routine and drove to the police station. Once again, he walked into the briefing room and sat in his usual seat in the second row. A different supervisor walked over to the podium. The room was filled with unfamiliar faces, though Berwald did recognize a few. The supervisor gave roll call and started assigning their patrol sectors.
"Some of you guys will be doubling-up." He proceeded to name the paired officers and their assigned areas. "Oxenstierna and Väi-nä-möi-nen, you're on sector 5. I'm really trying my best here, but your name is pretty complicated," the supervisor added, with a kind of sorry expression.
"That's okay, you can just call me Tino." Berwald turned to the direction of the voice and found a blond young man with violet eyes and a cheery grin sitting two rows back. The man noticed him looking and waved. Berwald responded with a simple nod and turned to face the podium. The supervisor continued assigning partners. Once done, he briefed them on anything important.
"Any questions? No? That's good. Anyway, see y'all around." He gathered his things and left the room; other workers soon followed. Berwald waited at the door for his partner.
"Hi, I'm Tino. Tino Väinämöinen. Nice to meet you," the young man said once he got to Berwald. He reached out his hand. Berwald accepted his invitation and shook it. "Berwald Oxenstierna," he responded. "I didn't think it'd be that strong" he thought, referring to Tino's unexpectedly strong grip.
Though he didn't show it, Tino was very intimidated by the man standing before him. Why does this guy look so mad? Don't worry Tino, he might be super chill once you get to know him. But just in case, don't do or say anything stupid.
"Guess we should get going." Tino said with a semi-forced smile.
"Mm."
All that could be heard was the sound of the engine humming as they drove down the boulevard. Berwald and Tino had been on patrol for three hours now and neither of them had said a word to each other. Tino couldn't bear the awkward atmosphere. He really wanted to say something, but he was too scared to. Don't risk it. You can't say anything stupid if you don't say anything at all. He just stared out the window and looked at the neon signs that decorated the stores and clubs. Berwald was also apparent of the awkward air, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He was used to working alone and wasn't much of a talker. We've been driving for a while; maybe he's hungry. Should I ask him if he wants somethi…
"The lights are nice," Tino murmured. He was entranced by the glowing signs. He didn't avert his gaze from them and didn't even realize he said something.
"Yeah."
"Hmm?" Tino turned to Berwald.
"The lights are nice," Berwald repeated.
"Yup," Tino said, realizing he had spoken earlier. Things went quiet for another five minutes and the discomforting atmosphere was coming back again. Neither of them wanted that.
"Are you hungry?" Berwald finally asked.
"Uh, kinda hungry I guess."
"What do you want to eat?"
"I'll go for anything; most places are closed anyway." Tino shrugged.
"I think I saw a 24-hour diner a while back; is that fine with you?"
"I'm fine with it."
It didn't take long for them to reach the restaurant. Most people weren't up at this hour, so there weren't many cars on the roads. A little bell rang when they entered the diner. The two sat at a booth by the window with blue leather seats and a white table in between. A chipper young red-head in a light teal waitress uniform came up to them with a small pad and pen.
"Hello, welcome to Barbie's Diner. What can I get for you?"
"Are you serving breakfast right now?" Tino asked as he lifted the laminated menu from the table.
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, I'll take the pancakes with bacon and eggs."
"Mmhhmm, would you like your eggs scrambled or sunny-side up?"
"Scrambled."
"Okay. And for you?" she asked, turning to Berwald.
"I'll just take a burger and fries."
"O-kay. And drinks?" she asked jotting down their orders.
"Coffee with whipped cream," Tino answered.
"Plain coffee for me."
"Anything else?"
"No, thank you," Tino answered. Berwald shook his head.
"Okay." The waitress repeated their order and informed them that they'd have to wait ten to fifteen minutes then went over to the counter. Tino noticed there weren't many people at the diner – just a few employees and four other customers. He also saw a vintage jukebox at the other end of the diner, under a black and white framed photograph of Frankie Valli. He started humming a familiar tune and tapping his fingers on the table. Berwald was aware of the humming – and he knew the song – but made no comment. The waitress soon handed them their food and left. They ate quietly, but Tino kept his eye on the jukebox. Once they finished eating and paid for their food – as well as left a tip for the waitress – Tino walked over to the machine.
"Does this thing still work?" he asked turning to the waitress who was now by the cashier.
"I think so," she replied.
Berwald walked over to Tino and looked at the jukebox. Then he moved his gaze up to the photograph. It had Valli's signature. That's cool. After inserting three coins into the machine, Tino leaned over it and read the names and numbers of the songs. 97. Can't Take My Eyes Off You – Frankie Valli. He pressed the correlating buttons and watched the machine light up and begin to play the song.
Tino hummed along to the song and Berwald tapped his finger on top of the jukebox. Tino began to slowly bob his head and sang quietly to himself. Berwald couldn't hear Tino's voice since it was so low and the jukebox was so loud, but he watched him mouth the words of the song. There was something calming about watching Tino lip syncing that made Berwald kind of sleepy – despite having just drank coffee. Tino felt like someone was staring, but when he turned, all he saw was Berwald looking at the jukebox and tapping his fingers.
When the song ended, Tino waved to the employees and they left the diner. They got back into the car and patrolled the area a few more times – in silence. They caught three DUIs. Once the shift ended, they drove to the police station and checked out.
"See you tomorrow, um, I mean tonight, I guess," Tino said waving to his partner.
Nodding his head was Berwald's only response. He drove home, got into his bedroom, and fell onto the bed. He was exhausted from having to work two shifts in the same day. He looked at the alarm clock beside his bed. 7:15 a.m. He shut his eyes. His rest was short-lived, though. He didn't even have enough time to actually fall asleep before his phone started buzzing. He brought it to his face to see who the message was from. Matthias. He dropped his phone at his side without even reading the message. He had been in a pretty good mood since he left the diner and he didn't want Matthias to ruin it. He ignored the buzzing coming from his phone and drifted off to sleep.
