ALL ORIGINAL CONTENT OF THIS STORY, INCLUDING MY OWN CREATED FANON, CHARACTERS OR OTHER SPECIFIC DETAILS UNIQUE TO MY WORK IS THE SOLE PROPERTY OF BAMBOOZLEPIG AND MAY NOT BE USED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.
THE ORDINARY DAY
CHAPTER TWO
Granite Court and Granite Park area
12:35 P.M.
The man on the roof could see a black-and-white Los Angeles police car pull up alongside the red fire engine up the block. Grabbing his binoculars, he spotted the two cops getting out of their vehicle and speaking with the fire captain, easily identifiable by the white stripe on his black helmet. He saw the fire captain gesture to the carnage on the street below, then he saw one of the cops reach into their squad car and grab the radio mike. With interest, he listened in on the scanner, glad that he'd thought to program in the police department's Tac2 frequency, in order to catch the traffic that would not normally be released over the main ops frequency. Tac2 was the frequency they went to when they didn't want the public to know what was going on, especially the news media. He smiled as he heard the officers conversing and discussing over the air what to do about their "active sniper situation" he'd created.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some movement in the park. The young Marine and his girlfriend, who'd hidden behind the stone wall surrounding the park, were evidently preparing to try to make a dash for safety. He watched as they stood up and moved towards the sidewalk at the front of the park, both of them hunched low. He allowed them to get out to the sidewalk, then he fired on the Marine, catching him in the chest and killing him. He fired on the screaming girlfriend, who dropped to her knees on the ground next to her boyfriend, that shot wounding her in the shoulder. She laid down on the pavement, sobbing, as her beloved died in front of her eyes. The man on the rooftop scanned the park to see if anyone else was foolish enough to try to make a dash for freedom, but they remained where they were at, scared and cowering. The gunman chuckled to himself, no one in the park was safe wherever they were at, he had a good vantage point and intended to use it to his best advantage.
He heard more sirens wailing in the distance, and he turned to watch up the street, as various police cars swarmed into the area. They were quickly dispatched to different points, ostensibly to seal off the affected area. That was fine by him. The traffic moving on the road and in the area beyond Granite Court was of little interest to him. It was the people in the park he was concerned with. Dividing his attention between those trapped in the park below and the responding emergency vehicles, he watched as his plan continued to unfold on what had started off as an ordinary day…
Palmtree Drive and Adamson Avenue
12:35 P.M.
"How in the hell did this start?" I ask Captain Stanley. His firefighters, Mike Stoker, Chet Kelly, and Marco Lopez stand clustered around him, their faces pale with shock.
"We got an unknown medical call to Granite Park," he says. "A male subject was reportedly down with what appeared to be a possible heart attack. When Squad 51 arrived on scene, they came under fire immediately. They bailed out the passenger side. We've maintained radio contact with them through the handie-talkie."
"Was either of them hit?" asks Reed.
"No, Gage and DeSoto are okay, save for some minor cuts from the windshield glass shattering on them. They've made a few attempts to try to get to some of the wounded that are around them. Every time they make a move, he shoots at them. I've advised them to just sit tight for now," Stanley tells us. "Until we get a better idea of how to proceed."
I reach in and flip the radio over to the public address system. "Attention," I say into the mike, my voice echoing oddly out of the squad car's loudspeaker system. "This is the Los Angeles Police Department. If you're in Granite Park or the immediate vicinity, please remain where you're at and stay low to the ground. Help is on the way. I repeat, please remain where you're at and stay low to the ground. Help is on the way." I flick the radio back over to Tac2. "Let's hope to God those people listen," I tell Reed and Captain Stanley grimly. "And they stay where they're at. It looks like we've already got enough casualties on the ground, we don't need any more."
The handie-talkie in Captain Stanley's hand squawks to life. "Cap, he's just fired at two more people, a Marine and a female. From where we're at, it looks like the Marine is dead, but the girl is only wounded. We can't see anymore than that."
"Copy that, Gage," Captain Stanley tells John Gage. "The police are on the scene now, so just sit tight until we figure out what to do."
"Cap, we've been sitting tight ever since this rampage began," Gage tells him, his tone a bit exasperated. "We need help out here, or there's gonna be a lot of lives lost to this nutbag. Tell the cops to step on it. We can't hold out much longer. The people in the park are getting restless. We're worried that if they start moving around, he's gonna pick them off."
"Have they gotten an idea of where he's shooting from?" I ask. "Is he on the roof of the Granite Court building or the parking ramp?"
"Gage, have you been able to determine where he's shooting from?" Stanley says into the HT. "Is he on the roof of the building or in the parking ramp?"
"He's on the roof of the building, Cap. We've seen him moving around up there," Gage tells him.
"Are they able to hear the shots being fired?" asks Jim Reed. "Because we're not hearing anything here."
"No," says Hank Stanley. "We're figuring he's using a silencer of some sort on his rifle. We've not been able to hear the shots either, and neither have Gage and DeSoto. The only indication they have that he's firing into the park is when they hear the people scream." He hesitates. "And it's not the best thing to hear," he adds grimly.
"Okay," I say. "The first thing we need to do is get this area sealed off completely. We don't know how far a range he's got on that rifle, but I don't want to take any chances and find out. We'll shut it down a block away in each direction on Adamson." I look at Stanley. "Were you able to determine whether or not the Granite Court building was supposed to have anyone in it today?"
He nods. "Yeah, we got ahold of the general contractor for the building. He said their work on it finished up on Thursday, so no one should be in the building, except for a security guard."
"Let's hope he's right," I say. "Is there any way we could get ahold of a set of blueprints for the building?"
"I can go you one better," Stanley tells me. "I have the contractor on the way out here. He's got the blueprints with him, so you'll be able to go over them with him as far as a plan for getting that guy out of there."
"Right now our primary concern is getting those people out of there," I say. "Are there any buildings or houses in this area that will need to be evacuated?"
"There's some houses over on Shale Court," says Mike Stoker. "Right in back of the Granite Court building. And there's the used car lot here, and the furniture warehouse over there." He gestures to the two businesses on either side of the street from us.
"Okay," I say, gazing at the three firefighters. "I want you guys to go to the two businesses and tell the people we're clearing this area out. Don't tell anyone what we have going on, just tell them that it's a dangerous situation and we need them to leave immediately. Tell them they'll be allowed back in once the situation is back to normal."
"As if that's gonna happen anytime soon," Reed mutters, his eyes on the Granite Court area.
"Give them ten minutes to get the businesses locked up and get out of there," I continue. "If you have any trouble, tell them they'll be arrested for interference. If they persist, come get one of us," I say.
"Right," says Mike Stoker, and the three of them split up, Stoker heading in the direction of the furniture warehouse, and Lopez and Kelly heading to the used car lot.
"What about the people over on Shale Court?" Stanley asks. "Could you get on the PA and order them to evacuate?"
I shake my head. "No, we don't want to give him any more ideas for target practice. If we get on the PA, we'll alert him that he's got some viable targets on that street, and he may shift his attention there. We want to keep this as quiet as possible for now. We don't want a panic and we don't want more victims. "
"Where's your sheriff's deputies at?" Reed asks. "Shouldn't they be the ones handling this as the primary jurisdictional officers?"
Stanley shakes his head. "They're tied up on a hostage situation out at Pelican Beach. They've got most of their units there, along with their SWAT team." He gestures to us. "So you guys are it," he says. "Until the shift change kicks some of them loose."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Great," I mutter, my mind whirling as I try to formulate a plan. I've dealt with sniper situations before, but nothing like this. I look up as a squad car approaches, lights and siren blaring. It's Adam-14, Jerry Woods and Mike Robinson. I go over to them. "Get the intersection of Adamson and Chicory Drive shut down completely," I tell Woods. "No one gets through at all. If they try, arrest them. Stay on Tac2 and listen in case we need to widen the perimeter. We don't know how far a range he's got on that rifle yet."
"Right, Pete," says Jerry, and they speed off.
Adam-11, Bob Brinkman and Dave Russo pull up next. I go over to them. "Get the intersection of Adamson and Oaktree Drive shut down completely. No one gets through at all. If they try, arrest them. Stay on Tac2 and listen, in case we need to widen the perimeter. We don't know his range yet," I tell Brinkman.
"Gotcha, Pete," says Brinkman, and they roar off.
Adam-43 comes screeching around the corner of Adamson and Palmtree. Ed Wells and Jack Brady wait as I approach. "Get Palmtree and Morris Avenue shut down completely. We're gonna funnel the ambulances in that way. They'll need a clear road to enter on. No one gets through unless it's an emergency vehicle. If they try, arrest them. Stay on Tac2 and listen for any further information."
"Right, Pete," Ed says, screeching off in a small cloud of dust.
Adam-49, Juan Sanchez and Gary Miller pull up next. I go over to them. "Get Oaktree and Morris shut down completely," I say. "We're gonna funnel the ambulances out that way. They'll need a clear road to exit on. No one gets through. If they try, arrest them. Stay on Tac2 and listen for any further information."
"Got it, Pete," says Sanchez, and they speed off.
A small, barrel-chested man comes running across the street to us. "Excuse me, excuse me!" he hollers, waving at us. The two firefighters, Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez, hurry after him, dismay written on their faces.
I turn to him. "Yes, what is it, sir?" I ask.
"What in the world do you people think you're doing here?" he asks, panting from his exertion of running. He's clad in a pair of khaki pants and a loud green plaid sportscoat. A white shirt and loud green tie complete the ensemble. He gestures to the AutoZip Used Car Lot on the corner. "I own that car lot," he says. "And this little man," he gestures derisively to Kelly, "and his partner here, came into my office and informed me I needed to leave this area immediately! Now I demand to know what's going on here!"
"Sir, we have a dangerous situation on our hands right now," I tell him coolly. "We're asking everyone in the vicinity to clear out until the situation is returned to normal."
"Well," he snaps. "How long will that be? I can't just shut down my business simply because you people have some sort of situation on your hands! That's not my problem, but losing sales is!"
"We have no idea how long it will be," Reed tells him. "But you do need to lock your business up, and you and your employees need to leave the premises." He shoots the man an icy blue glare. "Now," he adds.
"But this is ridiculous!" he says. "You're interrupting my livelihood here! Now I am a close and personal friend of Mayor Tom Bradley, and I can call him right now and have him fire all of you for this…this…foolishness!"
"You'll have to call him from your jail cell, then," I tell him, my patience gone with this little irritating man. "Because that's where you're headed if you don't get out of here immediately."
At the word "jail," he blanches. "You'd take me to jail?" he asks.
"For interference in a police matter, yes, I would," I tell him. "Now the choice is yours, pal. Either you lock up and get out, or you go to jail. It's as simple as that."
He studies me to see if I'm serious. When he realizes I am, he looks deflated. "I'll clear out," he says in a whipped tone of voice. "I'll get my two employees and we'll leave."
"Good choice," I tell him. "You have ten minutes to go."
A tall, thin man in a grey suit approaches us, trailed by Mike Stoker. "Um…" he says hesitantly, nervously twisting his hands and shifting his glance between Captain Stanley and I. "This firefighter told me I needed to gather my employees and leave the area immediately. So I take it we're being ordered to evacuate?" he asks.
"Yes sir, you are," I tell him. "You have ten minutes to get you and your employees out of the building. We have a very dangerous situation on our hands right now, and we're ordering evacuations of all surrounding areas."
"I don't understand why you can't tell us what's going on," the used car salesman pipes up.
I turn to him. "It's an official police matter, sir," I tell him. "One that I am not at liberty to discuss at this point. So please, for safety's sake, I'm ordering you to gather your employees and leave the area."
"When will we be allowed back in?" the man in the grey suit asks. "I have a shipment of office furniture that is due into the warehouse at 3 p.m. I really need to be here to oversee the unloading of it."
"And what about my business?" the car salesman asks. "Shutting down for an extended length of time will hurt my sales."
"You'll be allowed back in as soon as the situation is back to normal," I tell them, feeling like I'm explaining it to two complete idiots, which, in reality, I am. "For now, I can't tell you how long that will be."
"What about my cars on the lot?" the salesman asks. "Is there any danger of them being damaged by whatever is going on here? Maybe I'd better start moving them out of the area."
"And what about my incoming shipment of furniture?" the man in the grey suit asks.
"You'd better worry more about the lives of your employees and yourselves right now," Captain Stanley says. "Rather than your vehicles on the lot and your furniture shipment. Things like that can be replaced. Human lives can't."
The HT in Stanley's hand crackles to life. "Cap," John Gage says. "Any idea on how long it's gonna take to start getting these people out of here and to safety? With the way he's shooting, Roy and I figure there's a lot of casualties in the park itself. We need to get the wounded ones out of there as soon as possible. Otherwise they might bleed to death."
The used car saleman's eyes widen. "You guys have a SNIPER situation going on here?" he asks, his face turning pale. "Is that it? Some nutbag is shooting people over in Granite Park?"
"Sir, I told you, we cannot discuss it right now," I say, my voice edged with exasperation. I look at my watch. "You both have ten minutes to get your employees together, lock your businesses up, and leave. I assure you, you'll be allowed back in as soon as the situation clears. Now please, do as I ask of you. Don't make me arrest either of you and take you to jail." I jerk a thumb at the alleyway that runs along behind both businesses. "Have your employees exit out the back of the buildings. When they get in their cars, they need to go down this alleyway that runs east and west. They'll be allowed to exit on Oaktree and Chicory, to Morris Avenue only. Stress that they need to follow that route. Do I make myself clear?" I ask the two men.
"Hell, yes!" the car salesman says. "I don't wanna get shot by no damned sniper!" He turns on his heel and makes fast tracks across his car lot. The man in the grey suit does the same, scurrying off to his furniture warehouse.
"Guess sniper was the magic word," Jim Reed remarks dryly.
"Some people," I mutter. A black-and-white sheriff's car pulls up, with Deputy Vince Howard in it. I go over to him. "Vince, I need you to get over to Shale Court and go door to door, and start evacuating those people in the houses there. Don't alarm them or tell them what we've got, just explain that we have a dangerous situation on our hands and we're ordering mandatory evacuations of the area. They'll be allowed back in as soon as the situation returns to normal. Tell them they have ten minutes to get out. Route 'em up Oaktree, the cops at the roadblock there will let them through. If they give you any problems, tell them they'll be arrested for interference. Got it? When you get done doing that, and you're sure everyone's evacuated, return back here. We'll likely reassign you."
Vince nods. "Got it, Pete." His car speeds off.
I get on the radio. "One-Adam-11, 14, and 49, be advised you should have a small contingent of personal vehicles exiting your way within the next ten to twenty minutes. Go ahead and let them through. They're civilians we've cleared out of these nearby businesses and houses."
Captain Stanley speaks. "Pete, you might want to have your units on Morris be watching for the general contractor to arrive. He's driving a white Ford pickup with the name 'Brick's Construction' on the side of it. His name's Mike Hanson. He'll need to get past the roadblock."
"Adam-43 and 49, be watching for a white Ford pickup truck with the name 'Brick's Construction' written on the side of it," I say into the mike. "It's the general contractor for the Granite Court building. His name's Mike Hanson. ID him quickly and then let him through. He's got the blueprints for the Granite Court building." When both units acknowledge, I turn back to Captain Stanley. "Get on your radio and find out if we've got any available deputies now to assist us," I tell him.
"Right," he says. "With any luck, maybe the hostage situation has been resolved, and they've kicked some of them loose." He returns to the truck.
"Is there any more that we can do, Pete?" asks Mike Stoker.
"Not right now," I say, gazing at the empty lot behind the Office Furniture Warehouse. "I think we're gonna use that lot to set up a triage area. Do you know if any medevac choppers are available?"
"There's Schaefer's," Stoker says. "They have two or three choppers that might be available."
"What about the Coast Guard choppers that fly on sea rescues?" Marco Lopez asks. "They might be able to take some flights."
"Okay," I say. "We'll keep that idea in in the forefront, until Mac decides what to do," I say. I look up as Sergeant MacDonald's station wagon pulls to a screeching halt in behind Adam-12.
Mac gets out, going around to the rear of the wagon. He unlatches the gate and flips it down, pulling the map box out. "Fill me in on what's happening, Pete," he says.
"The sniper's up on top of that four-story office building, the Granite Court building," I tell him. "He's got the medics from Squad 51 pinned down by their rig."
"Were they hit?" he asks, studying the map.
"Just some minor cuts from the windshield shattering on them," I say.
"How are we set up for road blocks?" he asks.
"I've got Adam-11 at Adamson and Oaktree blocking traffic, Adam-14 at Adamson and Chicory blocking traffic, and Adam-43 blocking traffic at Morris and Palmtree. I also placed Adam-49 at Oaktree and Morris for traffic. I figured we'd funnel the ambulances in down Palmtree from Morris and shoot them out through this alleyway to Oaktree and Morris." I take a deep breath and continue. "I've ordered mandatory evacuations of these two businesses, and the houses along Shale Court in back of the Granite Court building. I've got Deputy Howard doing the house-to-house evacuations." I gesture to the vacant lot in behind the Office Furniture Warehouse. "I thought we'd use this as the trauma/triage area once we start getting victims out of there. They can be quickly assessed and loaded up for transport. You might want to consider getting ahold of either city or county public works and having them come out here with barricades to block the roads off with, just to establish a firmer roadblock and perimeter." I tap my hand against the roof of Mac's car. "For now, we're all that's handling this incident. County's tied up on a hostage situation of their own. Captain Stanley's looking into if any deputies can be shaken free, but we're not optimistic on that. He's asked the general contractor to be en route out here with the blueprints of the building, and I've ordered those at the roadblock to let him through. According to the contractor, no one should be in that building except a security guard. And I'll give you one guess as to what's likely happened to that poor guy."
Mac has taken all that I've rattled off to him in stride. "Looks like you've thought this out, Pete," he says. "Good job."
"Tell me that when we get those victims out of there safely," I tell him.
Captain Stanley returns to us. He has a rather grim look on his face. "The county situation is still ongoing, and it looks to be that way for awhile. So it appears you guys are going to be the primary incident commanders on this deal."
"We don't know how many injuries or fatalities we have yet?" Mac asks Stanley.
He shakes his head. "No, Gage and DeSoto report seeing numerous dead and wounded from where they're at, but there's no telling how many are out of their sight range. Any time they make a move, he shoots at them."
"Cap," comes the disembodied voice of John Gage over the HT. "It's getting critical here. He's taken some more shots at people in the park it looks like. We can't tell if anyone's been hit, but we've heard a lot of screaming coming from there just a moment ago. From what we can see, the girl next to the Marine's body is bleeding rather badly. We need to start getting these people out of here and fast."
"Roger that, Gage, just sit tight. We're putting a plan together as fast as we can," Stanley tells him.
"Yeah, well, it looks like his plan is far more thought out than yours is right now," Gage tells him. "I think he's wanting as high a death toll as possible. It's almost like he's hunting humans. So I'd advise you guys to act fast. I think he'll run out of lives to take before he runs out of bullets."
"Are they able to hear the shots being fired?" Mac asks.
Stanley shakes his head. "No, the only indication they have that he's shooting is when they hear the people in the park start screaming. He's evidently got some sort of silencer on the weapon. We've been able to maintain contact with Gage and DeSoto through their Handie-Talkie," he says. "They've been trying to keep us advised as far as what they can see from where they're pinned in at."
"Damn it," Mac says disgustedly. "This map doesn't have the Granite Park and Granite Court area on it. We haven't gotten the updated maps of the new jurisdictional boundaries for this vicinity yet."
"I can draw you a map out quick," says Mike Stoker. "We've just been through this area in the past week checking the new hydrant systems. It won't take me long to give you the layout of the park and the surrounding area."
Mac nods. "Great. Do that if you would, please." He sighs. "The next step is to formulate a plan to get in and start getting those people out of there." He looks at all of us. "I'm open to suggestions."
"What about having the Coast Guard choppers come in?" asks Marco Lopez. "They could use their stokes to airlift the people out."
Mac shakes his head. "Too dangerous and too long," he says. "Those stokes can only carry one victim at a time. We're putting the chopper pilots and the crew aboard in danger of him firing on them, bringing the chopper down. And when they'd winch the victims aboard, we're exposing them to his fire. It's a great idea in theory, but it won't work."
Mike Stoker returns with the map he's hastily drawn up. He has the area as finely detailed as he possibly can on a piece of scratch paper. He points to the park. "There's only two ways into Granite Park, as you can see," he says. "The main entrance and the small maintenance entrance at the back. Both entrances are paved, but the rear entrance is pretty small. It's mainly for the groundskeeping trucks to use."
"Could we get a vehicle the size of an ambulance in there?" Mac asks.
Captain Stanley shakes his head. "I doubt it. Even a station wagon rig would be hard to fit in there. There's not much room for turnaround. You'd nearly have to come in the back entrance and exit out the front, putting the rig directly into his line of fire. And the last I knew, ambulances weren't bulletproof."
"And we can't go in on foot," Reed says. "Because while the SWAT team has the vests to protect from getting shot, the victims don't. Dragging them out that way exposes them to sniper fire once more."
"Sonofabitch," Mac mutters. "This bastard has certainly covered his bases well, hasn't he?" He looks down towards Granite Court. "No way in, and the only way out is in a body bag, it seems."
"I'm not letting that happen to Gage and DeSoto," Captain Stanley says, his voice sharp. "If nothing else, we'll drive the damned fire engine into that area, just to get them out."
"That's putting your crew at risk for getting hit," Mac tells him. "I won't let you do that."
"It's gotta be better than sitting around here doing nothing," Stanley snaps. "Those are two of the best damned paramedics for Los Angeles County, and I'm not letting them get killed if I can help it." Stanley points down the street. "As cops, you guys should know how to handle a situation like this. And it seems to me you're not doing a very good job of it right now. Either you come up with something to get those people and my medics out of there, or I'll drive that engine in myself to get them out."
"It's too dangerous!" Mac snaps. "And we've never handled a sniper situation like this before. Just give me a chance to think a minute, okay?"
"Then you'd better think fast, Sergeant," Stanley tells him, anger rising in his voice. "Not only are those two men trapped in there are our brothers…our family. And NONE of us are going to just sit by and let them get murdered. Got that?" He and Mac exchange a tension-filled glare, the battle lines clearly drawn. Stanley's three firefighters nod in assent, their faces grim.
"It'd be just like if one of your men was stuck in the same situation," Mike Stoker says. "You'd want to get them out as fast as possible, without getting them injured or killed. And until you've been in that situation, Sergeant…"
"I HAVE been in that situation," Mac says. "Numerous times. And I know exactly what you're all feeling right now. But we can't just bust in there and start yanking people out. We've got to come up with a damned good plan."
"The Armadillo," I say. "What about using the Armadillo?"
Mac looks over at me. "Pete, that thing hasn't been proven yet," he says. "We don't know if it'll actually work. We're taking a big chance on it failing under fire."
"We're taking a chance on letting more innocent people die at the hands of that jackass," I tell him. "Which chance is greater? The loss of a human life or the possible failure of a damned Armadillo? I sure as hell know which one I'd rather take right now. I agree with Captain Stanley. We can't wait. We need to act immediately."
"It tested well at Camp Pendleton, Mac," Reed says. "We put it through the paces out there, and it worked just fine. We threw all sorts of situations at it and it came out smelling like a rose each time."
"If it fails miserably, though, it's gonna look incredibly bad for the department," Mac says. "The bad press alone could sink any future projects the SWAT division might put out for consideration."
"It's gonna look even worse if the public finds out we had something designed specifically for use in a crisis situation like this, and we failed to implement it when it was needed," I tell him sharply. "Right now I'd helluva lot rather risk department's reputation than the lives of the people trapped in the park."
"We put it through a similar drill at Pendleton," Reed says. "It proved itself then, so give it a chance now, Mac. What have you got to lose?"
"We have the ability to get in there and get those people out," I say. "It's risky, yes, but so is every other option we've come up with. Those people are running out of precious time in there, Mac. And I don't understand why you won't let us act on it."
"Because this is my ass on the line," Mac protests vehemently. "If I order the Armadillo to roll, and it goes terribly wrong, I could be demoted…or worse yet, fired. And I've got too damned many years in on the job to have that happen to me now. Mary and I are counting on my retirement pension in our old age."
I stare at him, feeling anger and dismay rising in me. I flick a glance to Reed, then to the four firefighters clustered around us. I study the carnage in the street before me. I close my eyes for a moment, then I open them, setting my mouth in a grim line. I come to a decision. "I'll order it," I say. "I'll order the Armadillo to roll, if you're too damned worried about protecting your own ass do it yourself, Mac." I meet his blue gaze angrily with my own. "I'll risk getting fired. I'd rather act now and try to get those people out of the park as quickly as possible. I'll worry about the consequences later on."
Mac studies me for a moment, his eyes snapping fire and a muscle twitching in his jaw, then he shoves past me to the side of his car. He reaches in for the mike. He holds it in his hand for a second, then he presses down on the button. "Dispatch from One-L-20," he says into the mike.
"This is Dispatch, One-L-20, go ahead with your traffic."
"Dispatch, has Sergeant Baron been notified of this situation?"
"Roger, One-L-20, Sergeant Baron has been notified and is on his way into the station. He's standing by on Tac2 if you need to relay information to him."
"Copy that, Dispatch. Sergeant Baron, do you copy One-L-20 on Tac2?"
"Roger, Mac. I copy you. Go ahead."
"Gus, we've got a sniper situation out here in the Granite Court area. We're assuming primary incident command due to county being tied up on a situation of their own. From what we've been advised, we have numerous injuries and possible fatalities in and around the Granite Park area. We've got a county paramedic team pinned in by gunfire. Against my better judgement, I'm requesting you go ahead and roll the Armadillo to this location for rescue purposes." Mac's gaze never leaves mine.
"Mac, the Armadillo hasn't been completely proven for use in a situation like this. All we have under our belts is the mock-simulations we used at Camp Pendleton last month. It performed well then, but who's to say it will do well now, in an actual situation?"
I reach out and snatch the mike from Mac's hand. I key the button. "Gus, this is Pete Malloy. We've got a critical incident out here. We've got a lot of innocent people that are trapped in Granite Park by sniper fire. Several are injured and are in need of immediate medical attention. We don't have time on our side here, Gus. We need to get in and get those people out as fast as we can," I tell him. "I'm asking you to roll the Armadillo. If it fails, it fails. At least we made a damned honest attempt at saving those people. I'd rather have that over my head than the idea that we let innocent people die at the hands of a madman, simply because we're afraid our little Armadillo might not work. It tested well at Pendleton, I doubt it's gonna fail now. All we can do is try to give it a chance. Which is a helluva lot more than what those folks on the ground in the park have right now."
There is a hesitation on the other end of the radio as Gus Baron mulls it over. "Fine, Malloy," Gus finally says. "As soon as I get to the station, I'll throw your SWAT gear into the back-end of the Armadillo and be en route."
"Jim Reed's here with me also," I tell him. "Toss his gear in the Armadillo, too. We'll suit up as soon as you arrive on scene. Then we'll begin rescue operations." I shove the mike back at a glaring Mac, clicking the button off. "There," I snap. "Now you don't hafta worry about your ass being on the line. It's mine that will be fired if it comes to that." I then push past the small group of men and stalk around to the front of Adam-12. Leaning on the front bumper, I fold my arms across my chest, staring up the street at the gruesome sight.
Reed approaches me. "You shouldn't have done that, Pete," he tells me softly. "You took it upon yourself to issue an order that should have been Mac's prerogative, not yours. You're liable to get busted down or fired."
I look over at him. "Would you have done it any differently?" I ask.
He is quiet for a moment. He shakes his head. "No," he says. "I wouldn't." He looks up the street. "Why did you automatically assume I'd go out on a SWAT mission like this?" he asks.
I take my hat off, rubbing my forehead. "I'm sorry," I say. "I guess I just figured you'd go along with me. But if you don't, I can understand. I'll go it alone and do what I can." I set my hat on the hood of the car.
"No," he says. "I'll do it. But it's…" he hesitates, biting his lip. "It's nearly suicide, you know?"
"You don't think I don't realize that?" I ask, casting him a glance. "I know it's nearly suicide. We don't know what other possible kinds of firepower he's got up on that damned roof. Hell, for all we know, he could have a freakin' Sherman tank and hand grenades up there, and he's just waiting for the opportunity to use them on us. But it's a risk I'm willing to take, if it saves innocent lives. If you want to stay here and help Mac with the command post, I can understand. You've got a wife and kid to worry about. I don't."
"I said I'd go," he says. "I'm not letting you walk into a situation like that alone, Pete. I'm just worried about what we might be facing once we get past that perimeter into his territory. Back here, we're on our ground." He points to the street in front of us. "Out there, we're on his turf. And it's a suicide mission we're undertaking, you know? Neither of us may come out of this alive."
I stare ahead, my mouth set in a thin line. "I know it," I tell him grimly. "But there's no other choice. Either we go in and get those people out, or we let him pick them off like they're ducks in his private shooting gallery. And I'm not about to let that happen if I can help it."
"I know," he sighs. "Me neither." He leans against the bumper of the squad car, too. "Time isn't exactly on our sides here." He takes his hat off, too, running a hand through his hair. He sets his watchcap on the hood next to mine.
"Yeah," I say, glancing down at my watch. It's nearly one o'clock, not quite an hour into the gunman's shooting rampage. I look at Reed, his gaze meeting mine. "And it's rapidly running out for the people in the park."
"Mac, this is Gus. How are we set up for SWAT team members on site right now besides Reed and Malloy? Are there any others?"
"It's just those two for now. I've got my other units deployed blocking traffic and keeping the lookie-loos out. So I'm leaving it to your discretion as far as activating any other members."
"Uh… think I'll hold off on any further activations for now. We don't want to get too many members out there and end up having them just standing around with nothing to do. Not too many can fit aboard the Armadillo, so we'll work with who we've got. I'll go ahead and throw some extra gear in the back-end just in case we end up having to outfit team members later on, as possible relief officers, but for now I'll just wait until I see what we're dealing with on scene. Now how about county? Is their SWAT team available?"
"Not at this time, Gus. According to the county fire captain we've got on scene, he tells us they're tied up on a hostage situation of their own, and it doesn't look to be ending any time soon. So it's just us."
"Uh…okay, I'm going to be leaving the station with the Armadillo shortly here, once I get the gear loaded. Advise me of where the command post is set up."
"We're on the corner of Adamson Avenue and Palmtree Drive."
"Roger that, Mac, I'll have about a fifteen to twenty minute ETA to your location. Just sit tight."
"Copy, Gus. We'll be standing by. Dispatch on Tac2, do you copy?"
"Dispatch copies, One-L-20, go ahead with your traffic."
"Dispatch, I need you to go ahead and issue an immediate alert to the local television and radio stations, warning the public to stay out of the areas between Oaktree Drive and Chicory Drive, including the Adamson Avenue, Morris Avenue, and Granite Court vicinities. Do NOT tell them that it's an active sniper situation we have on our hands, just advise them that it's an emergency police matter for now, and we don't want the public in those areas. Then, get ahold of Rampart Emergency and Central Receiving hospitals and have them activate their mass trauma teams. Have them en route out here. We'll be setting up a triage area once rescue operations get underway. Place all the other area hospitals on secondary trauma standby for now, until we're able to better ascertain how many victims we'll be bringing out. See if any medevac choppers are available to fly on a go mission. Go ahead and activate the Emergency Command Center in dispatch. Notify the Captain of what we have out here and advise him of what we're doing. It'll be up to him to notify the Chief of Police and the mayor. Call in off-duty dispatchers if need be, under my authority. Have them handle the phone lines and any other calls. I want you to remain on Tac2 as my primary dispatcher. Also call in any off-duty officers that are available to cover the city until we get this situation resolved. You might also want to see if Highway Patrol could spare us a few officers to help out here, either with covering the city or handling traffic control out here at the scene. At this time, the city is assuming complete jurisdictional control over this incident and it will be handled by us from here on out. And whatever you do, do not let the media know what we've got out here. I'll decide when to release that information. Did you copy all that?"
"Roger, One-L-20. Dispatch copies. I'm working on it now."
"Roger, dispatch. Stand by for any further instructions for now."
"Dispatch copies. Standing by."
Granite Court and Granite Park area
1:00 P.M.
Up on the rooftop of the Granite Court building, the gunman looked at his watch. It wasn't even quite an hour into his spree, and already he'd exacted a frighteningly large toll on the people in the park below. He'd chuckled to himself as he'd heard the earlier announcement over the PA of the police car advising the people in the park to remain where they were at, that help was on the way. The cop's voice on the PA sounded cool and collected as he gave the announcement. He'd expected the guy to sound scared or nervous. After all, not many on the Los Angeles Police Department had ever dealt with a sniper situation as far as he knew. He wondered idly how the guy could remain so cool in the face of so much chaos in front of him. Curious to see what the officer looked like, he picked up the high-powered binoculars and zoomed in on the two cops standing by their car, talking with the fire captain. One of the cops was a tall thin man, while the other one was a bit on the pudgy side, just a hairbreadth shorter than the skinny cop. The brims of their watchcaps hid most of their faces from his view. He noticed both cops had shooting medals on their uniforms; the pudgier officer had the double-barred and circular medallion signifying him as a Distinguished Expert in the sharpshooting field, the highest ranking attainable in the department. The other cop had a single-barred silver medallion, signifying him as only a sharpshooter. He decided that the heavier cop must be the one in charge for now, since he had the chevrons and star emblem on his uniform marking him as the Senior Lead Officer in his division, a Police Officer III, one step below sergeant ranking. The sniper on the building smiled to himself as he thought of how he came about that vast knowledge of the police department. Everyone would certainly be surprised at how he knew it all, that's for sure.
He focused back in on the park. He noticed a teenage girl creeping towards the stone wall on the perimeter of the park. Looking around, she quickly stood up and jumped at the wall, trying to grab onto the edge of it to boost herself over to safety. He watched her as she caught the edge of the wall in her hands, struggling to climb over it. Then he sighted the rifle in on her and shot her in the back, dropping her to the grass, where she lay twitching and convulsing violently. He noticed one of the toddlers that belonged to one of the cowering mothers wriggled free from her grasp, and started to run across the emerald grass, unaware of the danger he was in. The gunman casually pulled the trigger, the little boy's head exploding in a mist of red and grey gore. He heard the mother shrieking in agony, so he pulled the trigger on her, too, sending her with little dispatch to follow the soul of her son. Everyone else in the park and in the street remained cowed. Even the medics at the side of their truck hadn't made a move in awhile. He sighted down at the pretty brunette that lay next to her fallen Marine, blood staining her pink flowered dress. With a sigh, he turned one of the blossoms on her dress red with more blood, shooting her straight through the heart. What the hell, he was a romantic at heart. There was nothing like undying love until the end. A Romeo and Juliet tragedy for the modern age, he mused.
He caught sight of some more activity up the street. Using the binoculars, he focused in once more. He watched as a man in a loud plaid suit argued with the two cops, evidently reluctant to evacuate. He thought ruefully to himself how awful it was he'd shortened the range on his rifle when he modified it. Otherwise he'd have pulled the trigger on the man and put an end to the argument right then and there. He watched as the man, soon joined by another man in a grey suit stood around speaking with the two cops and the four firefighters. The two men then dispersed, evidently going to their places of businesses to lock up and get out. He spotted a black-and-white sheriff's car pull up next to the squad car and stop for a moment, then the sheriff's car took off. He moved across the roof to see where it went. It pulled onto the street behind the Granite Court building, in the new housing development on Shale Court. He surmised the deputy was going to be going door to door to evacuate the residents living there. He shrugged. He knew he could lug the rifle and tripod over to the other side of the roof and pick off the people on Shale Court as they fled, but he didn't want to. It was simply too much hassle, and besides, he had a primo spot where he was at now on the roof. He didn't want to lose his current line of fire by moving the rifle. He figured he had more various types of victims to choose from in the park rather than those in the houses. In the vast green stretch of Granite Park and the street below, he had mothers and children, teenagers, young adults, elderly folk, and a few businessmen. Everyday, ordinary people, who would ultimately die on this ordinary day.
He returned to his spot by the rifle. He spotted the group of preschoolers and their two remaining teachers crawling on their bellies towards the scant safety of the picnic pavilion. He fired a couple of shots over their heads to keep them down, and then he glanced up the street towards the cops and firemen once more. He noted that the two cops were now joined by a third officer, driving a black-and-white station wagon. Putting the binoculars to his eyes, he zoomed in on the new man. A sergeant, he noticed, watching as the man trotted around to the back of the wagon and dropped the rear gate, pulling a sturdy map box out. He watched as the sergeant engaged in a lengthy conversation with the small group of firefighters and the other two cops, then the sergeant shoved past them and went over to the side of his car, reaching in for the radio mike. He grabbed up the scanner, listening to the Tac2 traffic. He heard the request for an Armadillo to be brought out to the scene. He frowned. What exactly in the hell was an Armadillo? he wondered to himself. He didn't think too long on it, though, as he saw the senior lead man snatch the radio mike out of the sergeant's hand and get on the air himself. He heard the conversation between the lead man and the SWAT team commander that was en route with this so-called Armadillo, then the lead man shoved the mike back at the sergeant and stalked off to sit on the front bumper of his own squad car. The officer's partner soon joined him, the two of them leaning on the car. It didn't look like all was happy among the cops and the firefighters. He divided his attention between the ongoing Tac2 traffic and the two men sitting on the bumper of…he squinted at the roof of the squad…what car number was it again?...damn it, he couldn't see, the sun was glinting off the roof of the car, blinding him.
His attention was drawn back to the people in the park. The groundskeeper was kneeling down behind one of the wooden walls of the picnic pavilion, trying to coax the preschoolers and their teachers to crawl to him once more. He watched them for awhile through the binoculars, happy at the thoroughly frightened expressions on the faces of the kids. He spotted one of the teenage boys that was huddled by the granite fountain stand up and try to make a run for it. The other parkgoers watched his progress with great interest, hoping that if the fleet-footed youngster got away without getting shot, maybe their chances of escape were good too. The gunman let him get nearly to the park entrance, then he fired a shot into the kid's leg. When the kid dropped to the grass, holding his wounded knee, the gunman put another bullet into him, this one in his shoulder. The kid fell backwards, but he was still alive…for now. The gunman looked once more at the activity up the street. He sighed heavily. Waiting was such a bore.
Command Post, Adamson Avenue and Palmtree Drive
1:10 P.M.
Over my shoulder, I hear Mac talking to the firefighters. "How many rescue squads from your department do you think you can call out here?" he asks Captain Stanley.
"I can request at least two for now," Stanley replies. "We don't want to spread our county resources too thin, you know."
"I know it," Mac tells him. "And I can't spread my city resources too thin, either. If we're willing to send our men in to deal with the rescue end of it, you guys should be willing to supply the medic teams to help staff the triage area."
I hear Stanley hesitate at the brusqueness of Mac's tone. "Right," I hear him say, his own tone sharp. "I'll get on the radio and request two medic teams out here, and have another put on standby. If your SWAT team gets my paramedic team out of the war zone on one of their first passes in, we can put them to work in the triage area, too."
"Good," Mac says. "Just so we understand each other, Captain. If this is our jurisdictional baby by default, then it's our rules we're playing by. Just for the sake of safety and continuity."
"I understand perfectly clear, Sergeant MacDonald," Stanley tells him in a clipped voice. I see him go over to the fire truck and climb in, grabbing the radio. I can't make out his conversation that well, he pulls the door partially shut. I shoot a glance at the other firefighters and Mac.
"We'll use this vacant lot for the triage area, like Malloy suggested," I hear Mac say. "I'll need the locks cut on those gates so we can get the lot opened up. I need you guys to do that," he says to one of the firemen.
"Right, Sergeant," Chet Kelly says, then he opens one of the compartments on the side of the rig, pulling out a set of bolt cutters. He and Marco Lopez go over to the chain-link fence and begin working on the padlocks and chains. Mike Stoker remains with the engine, his expression one of displeasure. He watches his captain carefully, as Captain Stanley climbs back out of the truck.
"I've got Rescue Squads 88 and 36 on the way out here," he tells Mac. "I've also put in a request to see if the Coast Guard choppers would be available to fly once we start getting victims out of there. I'm awaiting word from our dispatch center now on that possibility. And Schaefer's is on standby at your dispatcher's request."
"There's no way you can have your radio communications center switch over to our Tac2 frequency so we can share information, is there?" Mac asks him.
"No, I'm afraid not," Stanley says. "The county deputies might be able to switch over to your Tac2, but our fire dispatch can't. I'll have to relay any information they might need."
"Would it be possible for the Armadillo to get in through that back entrance to the park?" Mac asks. "So we could maybe load victims that way?"
Stoker shakes his head. "It's just barely big enough for the little groundskeeping trucks to get in there."
"Cap," John Gage's voice crackles over the HT Stanley holds in his hand. "He just shot at a kid who tried to make a break for it through the entrance. It doesn't look like he killed him, just wounded him, but we think it's pretty serious injuries the kid sustained. I hope to God help is rolling in some form or another."
"We've got the police department's Armadillo on the way," Stanley tells him. "It's got the SWAT team gear aboard, so when it arrives, Malloy and Reed will suit up and we'll start rescue operations as soon as possible."
"Did you say Pete Malloy and Jim Reed were there on scene?" asks Gage.
"Yeah, they are," Stanley tells him.
"Well, good to hear, then," Gage chuckles. "Maybe there's hope for us yet, if the dynamic duo is on their way to save our asses."
Reed and I exchange a small grim smile. We've been friends with John Gage and Roy DeSoto, and the rest of the Station 51 crew for awhile now.
"Tell Gage and DeSoto they'll be the first ones we pull out of there," Mac says to Stanley. "We'll need them for the triage area."
"Sergeant MacDonald wants me to relay that you and Roy will be the first ones we get out," Stanley tells him. "We'll put you to work in the triage area, assisting with the wounded."
"Uh…yeah, I think I have a slightly better idea," Gage says. "How about Roy and I put on bulletproof vests and accompany Malloy and Reed into the battlefield? We could get a lot more accomplished that way. It'll go a helluva lot quicker and we might save more lives."
Mac shakes his head. "No can do. We can't risk them getting hit by sniper fire in the field. It's too damned dangerous. I won't allow it."
"It's a fine idea, pal," Stanley says into the HT. "But Sergeant MacDonald won't allow it and neither will I. Too risky. You guys might get hit by sniper fire. We're not taking that chance."
"Yeah, well, we'll discuss it once we get rescued," Gage says in a tone that indicates his mind is already made up. "In the meantime, tell Pete and Jim to just take their time rescuing us. Roy and I are sitting here enjoying the sunshine and working on our tans. The only bad thing is, I think my ass has fallen asleep." His voice is laced with sarcasm.
"Smartass," Stanely says into the HT, a bit of affection in his voice. "We're working on getting you two out as soon as possible."
"Oh, and Cap?" Johnny asks. "Tell Pete and Jim to try to not get shot while rescuing us. I don't think that would look very good for the police department's SWAT team and their credibility in the least."
"I'll make sure to tell them to duck when they get there," Stanley chuckles. "For credibility purposes."
Mac comes over to me, standing in front of me. "You," he says in a low tone, his face stormy with anger. "You and I are going to have a little discussion…in private…about you grabbing the mike out of my hands just now. Do you understand me, Malloy?"
"Perfectly," I say. "I look forward to it, Sergeant." My voice is cool.
"Jesus," Mac says, taking off his cap and swiping at the sweat on his brow. "What a mess." Giving me one last glower, he stomps off to his car.
"I think you're in trouble, Pete," Reed tells me quietly.
"Ask me if I care right now," I reply. "Being in trouble with Mac is the least of my concerns right now." I look up as I hear the thup-thup-thup of Air Ten approaching our area. "Good," I say, watching the chopper fly low over us. "Now maybe we'll have a bit better idea of what we're facing. Air Ten should be able to see from their vantage point what kind of setup he's got, and how many victims we have in the park."
"Maybe," says Reed. "If he doesn't decide to shoot at the chopper."
Roof of the Granite Court building
1:20 P.M.
The gunman heard the sound of an approaching helicopter. Scanning the sky, he spotted it coming in from the south, flying low. He watched it angle east, skimming the treetops on the eastern edge of the park gracefully. The chopper then angled slightly north again, and it swung towards his spot on the roof, the roar of the helicopter's blades filling his ears. He tried to sight in on it to fire on it, but he couldn't. Dust kicked up around him, temporarily blinding him. And by the time he wiped the dust from his eyes, the bird had already swung to the west of him, well out of his range. "Damn it," he muttered to himself as he watched the copter set up a holding pattern, circling around the park and the Granite Court building. "Damn it all to hell." To soothe his anger, he sighted in on the dead Marine below and fired another shot into the young man's body. It jerked with the bullet's impact. He heard the tiny transistor radio bubble to life, and he grabbed it up, turning it up. And what he heard made him smile a bit, for he knew the message was going out over all the airwaves for both television and radio. He was finally generating some interest from the media.
…WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO BRING YOU THE FOLLOWING NEWS BULLETIN: THE LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT IS REPORTING A VERY SERIOUS SITUATION IN THE VICINITY OF THE GRANITE COURT AREA. THEY ARE REQUESTING AT THIS TIME THAT THE PUBLIC STAY OUT OF THAT AREA, DUE TO SAFETY CONCERNS. POLICE OFFICIALS ARE NOT RELEASING WHAT EXACTLY THE SITUATION IS, BUT FROM EYEWITNESSES IN THAT AREA, POLICE ARE APPARENTLY DEALING WITH A POSSIBLE SNIPER IN THE VICINITY OF THE GRANITE COURT AND GRANITE PARK AREA. A POLICE SPOKESPERSON DECLINED COMMENT, ONLY STATING THAT THE ENTIRE AREA BETWEEN OAKTREE AND CHICORY DRIVES, AND ADAMSON AND MORRIS AVENUES ARE SHUT DOWN, AND RESIDENTS AND BUSINESSES IN THAT AREA HAVE BEEN EVACUATED. WE HAVE NO WORD ON ANY INJURIES OR DEATHS, BUT WE CAN REPORT THAT SEVERAL LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICERS, ALONG WITH FIRE RESCUE SQUADS AND AMBULANCES HAVE BEEN DISPATCHED TO THAT AREA. WE UNDERSTAND THAT A SWAT TEAM IS ALSO BEING MOBILIZED. AS YOUR CHANNEL FIVE ACTION NEWS TEAM, WE HAVE NEWS CREWS EN ROUTE TO THE LOCATION ON BOTH THE GROUND AND IN THE AIR. WE HOPE TO BRING YOU FURTHER INFORMATION ON THIS RAPIDLY DEVELOPING STORY AS SOON AS IT BECOMES POSSIBLE. WE NOW RETURN YOU TO REGULAR PROGRAMMING…
"One-L-20 from Air Ten, do you copy?"
"This is One-L-20, Air Ten, go ahead."
"Uh…yeah, Mac, we can give you a bit of an idea of what you've got. We can tell you it looks like there's about twenty-five, maybe thirty civilians in that park and on the street below. It's hard to tell which ones are injured and which ones aren't. It's also hard to tell from up here about how many fatalities there are, but I'd say there's quite a few, just from what we saw on our swing-through. You've got several small children in the park, along with adults. It looks possibly like you might have a small bunch of preschool kids in there, too. We did see a minibus with the name 'Happy Time Preschool' on the side of it."
"Roger that, Air Ten. What can you tell me as far as the sniper setup?"
"He's on the roof of the Granite Court building. It looks like he's got a rifle mounted on a tripod. Other than that, we cannot visualize any other weapons. We spotted a footlocker, along with a tarp he's rigged up, evidently to either hide under or to shelter him from the sun. He's got the fire escape door propped open with something, can't tell what. We're keeping our distance for now, since we're not sure of how far of a range he's got on that rifle."
"Copy, Air Ten. Keep the chopper at a safe distance. Don't give him the chance to shoot you out of the sky."
"Roger, One-L-20. We'll keep you advised of his movements on the roof, and of those on the ground. What's the ETA on SWAT?"
"Air Ten, this is Sergeant Baron with SWAT. I have about a ten minute ETA yet to the scene with the Armadillo."
"Roger that, Sergeant Baron. You're bringing in the bad boy, huh?"
"Against my better judgement, yes. I guess we have to give him a chance and see how well he'll run under fire. I'm hoping like hell he won't fail us in our rescue attempts."
"Roger that, Gus. We'll be pullin' for you up here in the air, hoping you bring as many of those people as you can out alive. Air Ten standing by on Tac2."
Back on the rooftop of the Granite Court building, the gunman laid the transistor radio down after hearing the news bulletin. He heard the chatter on the scanner's Tac2 frequency and wondered once more, what exactly in the hell was an Armadillo? He guessed he'd soon find out. Scanning the people in the park, he noticed that evidently no one wanted to make any moves right now, perhaps buoyed by the appearance of the police copter overhead and the idea that help was indeed, on the way. Picking up the binoculars, he sighted in on the two cops at the front of their squad car once more. He noticed they'd removed their watchcaps, setting them on the hood of their vehicle. With a frown, he studied the blonde-headed cop, the heavier one. Then quickly, he zoomed in on the other cop, the skinny one with dark hair. He focused last in on their sergeant, as he took off his watchcap and wiped at his forehead. He gasped aloud. Oh…it couldn't be! he thought to himself. It just couldn't be! He focused the binoculars in on all three of them once more. Oh yes, he recognized them quite well. Letting the high-powered binoculars thud back to his chest and sway from the strap around his neck, he reloaded the rifle, his movements precise and quick, evidencing a close familiarity with the weapon. When he was done, he snatched the binoculars up and zoomed once again in on the officers at the corner of Palmtree and Adamson. Then he smiled, starting to chuckle to himself at his sheer good luck. His plan was going much better than expected! He wanted to whoop for joy, as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. The presence of the three officers was the buttercreme icing on the proverbial cake. And he certainly intended to have his cake and eat it, too, now that he'd learned this juicy little detail.
"Pete Malloy, Jim Reed, and Bill MacDonald," he muttered to himself. "You lousy, rat bastards. You three screwed me over once, but you won't screw me over again, I guarantee it. You just wait and see, boys. I've got a nice big surprise planned. A big, BIG surprise. One that will quite literally blow the three of you away…"