Cst. Kristoff Bjorgman
Age 26
Embedded Canine Unit
Royal Police, 19 Division
Arendelle City Region
At the manager's request, Kristoff took Sven outside of the restaurant. This did not please Sven, who became resistant to getting back into Kristoff's SUV. He made every effort to delay his eventual confinement. The two of them stood beside Kristoff's vehicle, with one of its rear doors ajar.
"Oh come on! We've only just got here!"
"Sorry buddy, but we're guests of the restaurant. We show respect to them, not the other way around." said Kristoff, looking down at his canine partner.
"Is that what you really think about these people?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"Really?"
"Yes, now get in the car."
"I'm hungry."
"Look, I'll bring something out for you. Something for the three of us. You, me, and Elsa could go to Myradelle Park, you could run around, and the two of us could enjoy hot chocolate. Is that what you want to hear?"
An old woman stared at Kristoff as she walked past the restaurant.
"You, me, and Anna you mean."
Kristoff didn't respond.
"19-04, code 054..."
Kristoff had his pistol drawn before the broadcast even finished. The pro-word was solidified in his memory because of what it represented. It was one of few that demanded he draw his firearm.
Code 054: armed suspect. Weapon. Lethal force.
Kristoff slammed the vehicle's rear door and dashed towards the restaurant's front door. He yanked the door open. As he entered there was a female scream. Anna. Sven overtook Kristoff and rushed for the kitchen. Kristoff followed close behind. When Kristoff entered the kitchen, he saw Anna lying stomach-first on the floor.
A meat cleaver lay on the floor, a line of crimson on the edge. A sudden feeling of powerlessness overcame him.
"Anna?!" called Kristoff.
He remembered what Hector said the day after Elsa was attacked. They were a pile of bodies. Elsa, Rapunzel, and the suspect, haemorrhaging together, their blood forming a large pool in the front of the house.
Ms. Fa rested on the wall with a hand over her mouth and a shocked expression. Berrof and Chartier advanced, their guns ready.
"Get the knife."
Berrof kicked the knife away with his foot. The suspect screamed and cursed in his foreign language.
"Nei go sei caai po! Haam ga chaan!"
He was pinned underneath Anna and was thrashing against her grip.
"Ni hao, motherfucker." said Berrof.
"Shut up. Kristoff, give me my cuffs."
Kristoff holstered his pistol and did as he was told. He opened Anna's handcuff pouch, mounted on the back of her belt, and took one of Mr. Chen's arms. He cuffed it. Anna grabbed the other arm, and let Kristoff cuff it as well.
"Diu nei go sei cau hai! Puk gaai!"
Anna got off Mr. Chen and brushed herself off. Berrof put a foot on his back, but Anna kicked it away. Kristoff lifted him up off the floor. Chartier spoke.
"Xiaobo Chen, we're arresting you under suspicion of assault of a peace officer."
Mr. Chen spat in Berrof's face. Berrof cocked his arm back, but stopped short of delivering his punch.
Hans was at the kitchen entrance with a gun in hand. Seeing that the apparent threat was contained, he holstered it. He moved out of the way as Chartier led Ms. Fa out of the kitchen.
"I'll take Mr. Chen back to 19. Berrof, go help Chartier."
Berrof left the kitchen, leaving Anna and Kristoff alone. For a moment they stood not saying a word. Anna began pacing around the kitchen. She was proud of herself, outwitting her colleagues and ending the incident without a hail of bullets. She noticed Kristoff was staring at the wall. It always seemed like Kristoff was staring.
"So how was I? Do I need to work on my groundwork a bit more? They taught me the same thing in Norway as they did here, which I guess is redundant. How would you have done it? Kristoff?"
Kristoff was silent.
"Kristoff? You there? Helloooo?"
"Huh? What?" Kristoff wiped his palms on his vest.
"You kinda zoned out there. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Anna. I'm fine."
Kristoff grabbed Anna's wrist. He held out her arm.
"Look, you're cut."
A large ragged gash ran across the sleeve of Anna's dark police jacket.
"Wow, I didn't even notice. That's going to leave a mark."
Kristoff removed Anna's jacket, revealing a bleeding cut on her arm. The sleeve of Anna's dark uniform shirt was sticky and damp with blood. Kristoff took a first aid kit off the wall of the kitchen. He opened it and removed a bandage and a pair of trauma shears.
"Come closer."
Kristoff held Anna's wrist as he cut up the sleeve of her shirt. Her smooth, bare arm revealed itself inch by inch as the shears snipped its way through. As he cut, Kristoff absent-mindedly stroked his thumb along the width of Anna's wrist. Anna looked at her feet. When he finished cutting, he placed a gauze pad over the wound, and pressed firmly. He looked up and was centimetres from her face. Anna moved her head back. After a few moments, Kristoff released her arm and placed held fresh piece of gauze on the wound. He unrolled an elastic bandage and wrapped it around the wound. His free hand dragged up and down the length of her arm.
When he finished, Anna quickly backed away.
"Thanks...I guess. Sucks about my shirt though, I just got it yesterday. Can you believe how much of a pain it is to order gear from headquarters? I don't even think they sent me my whole kit, I'm missing my plate carrier, my short-sleeve shirts, my traffic vest; I did get my traffic jacket though. I guess I'll be wearing that until I get a new parka."
"You're going to need stitches for that." said Kristoff, closing the first aid kit.
"Yeah, probably."
"Lets get back to the car."
The two left the kitchen, bringing the first aid kit with them. Kristoff handed the kit over to the owner and told her which items had been used. Before they left, Chartier pulled Kristoff aside.
"Hey, I heard from Svedberg about earlier. You need to get a grip on your rookie."
"I'm watching her."
"You better. If she keeps acting the way she does, someone is going to get hurt, and there won't be anyone to cover your ass when that happens. You're not the most popular guy at 19."
"That's not my fault."
"Maybe it isn't. But right now you're in the shit books of half the station, and from what I hear, the sarge now, too. If someone gets hurt because of that girl, you can add me to that list. Watch yourself."
Kristoff and Anna returned to their vehicle. Kristoff immediately began working on his paperwork, leaving Anna to wait idly. She turned on the vehicle's music radio. It was a vestige of the SUV's civilian origin. Classical music began to play.
"Boring. Is this what you actually listen to, Kristoff?"
"It's Vivaldi. Four Seasons, Winter. They play it on this station whenever there's supposed to be an ad break."
"Why would they do that?"
The music finished. There was a pause before a time signal, then a voice.
"This is ABC Radio One. Now the news with Jon Bjork."
"It's one o'clock. Good afternoon, I'm Jon Bjork. The Police Complaints Commission has announced that it is close to concluding its investigation into the shooting death of Klaus Berger at the hands of Royal Police. The incident earlier this month left two others dead including a Royal Police constable. The announcement has led to outrage as Constable Elsa Arendelle, a subject officer in the shooting, and daughter of disgraced Detective Inspector Agdar Arendelle, was not interviewed by the commission. Charlotte Ericsson reports."
Anna shut the radio off.
The clatter of typing filled the car. Anna was left idle for some time. At first she played a game on her phone. Then she grew bored and browsed some forums. Eventually, she slid her phone back into her vest began twiddling her thumbs.
The typing stopped. Kristoff reached into his vest and retrieved his phone.
"I'm texting Hans to let him know he has health and safety paperwork to sign off on. I'm bringing you to the hospital once I finish."
"No, it's fine. I can go after shift." Anna clutched her bandaged wound, the bandages now soaked with blood. "My arm isn't hurt that badly."
"That wound looks nasty. I'm bringing you to the hospital."
Kristoff unhooked his radio from the centre console.
"19-11 to dispatch, mark us 10-15. I'm bringing my partner to hospital."
"Dispatch to 19-11, received, marking you out of service."
Kristoff started the engine and pulled out of the fire route.
"So what happened back there in the kitchen?"
"Oh well, well the angry guy, Xiaobo Chen started trashing the kitchen while Nick, that is Constable Berrof, and I were talking to the manager, Francis Chung. So we went in the kitchen and then this massive wave of dishes and stuff came flying into the wall. Chartier was all like 'Calm down, cool it down.' and the angry guy was saying something angry in Mandarin or whatever. Clearly he doesn't speak Norwegian. He was really freaking out, so Berrof came in with his baton slung over his shoulder like he was about to go to town on this guy and he's shouting in English 'Get down! Get on the ground!' and clearly that's not going to work, it's only going to make him angry...well angrier. So I start speaking English too. I'm trying to have a conversation with him, because in Norway we're taught to de-escalate the situation. So then he picks up this meat cleaver and instantly Berrof and Chartier go for their guns."
"You drew your gun too, didn't you?" Kristoff glanced at Anna.
"No, I didn't. The guy had a knife, why would I need a gun? So the guy starts shouting-"
"Wait, you didn't draw your gun?" asked Kristoff, incredulous.
"No, I didn't. Pay attention. So I start trying to negotiate with the subject, build a rapport, let him know I'm there to help him. But Berrof and Chartier can't stop yelling at him, and it's really making him angry. So he starts coming up to us with the knife raised above his head, and that's when I tackled him."
"Weren't you afraid you going to get your head chopped off?"
"Uh, yeah, but who isn't afraid? That's still no reason to shoot the man."
"That's incredibly dangerous, Anna. What if that nutter cut your head off?"
"Excuse me! He's not a nutter, he's a human being. You can't just start dehumanizing people just because they end up a certain way!"
"Anna, listen, you need to protect bystanders, other officers, and victims. You need to protect yourself. You can't do that when your head is rolling around on the floor."
"And I thought the training was similar between all the Nordic countries."
"It's not training, Anna. It's common sense."
Anna looked down and found Kristoff's hand resting on her knee. Kristoff quickly removed it.
"So tell me about Norway."
"Oh, it's not that different from Arendelle. Besides the legal system, the social welfare system, the immigration system, the healthcare system...you know there's a lot more people of colour here in Arendelle than in Norway."
"I meant your career. What was policing like in Norway?"
"Oh you know, the usual 10-hour shift, go patrol, respond to radio calls, write reports."
"Did you have a partner?"
"Yeah, she was a great person. Her name was Inger, really nice, patient person. She was great to be around."
"You have any partners before then, or did you go solo most of the time?"
"No, I've always had Ingrid as my partner."
"What about your training officer?"
"Ingrid was my training officer. I didn't really finish my probationary year before transferring to here from Norway."
Kristoff was astonished.
"Wait, you were a probationer? How did they let you transfer?"
"I dunno. I applied, and I guess they liked me so they let me transfer. Arendelle's bureaucracy doesn't have the best reputation."
"Why did you transfer?"
"I guess...personal reasons. I have family members in the Royal Police. I was born here in Arendelle, Arendelle City actually. It's more a homecoming than anything."
The car grew silent as Kristoff processed Anna's answer. He glanced at her face. The word nepotism popped into his head. Kristoff once held that being a member of the Royal Police was his greatest achievement. But his time in the force had created more disillusionment than pride. Sometimes Kristoff felt as if he was drowning, lost in a sea of chaos that he was helpless to save himself, let alone others from. Perhaps he should have seen it coming. Early in his life he came face to face with a monster wearing the Royal Police badge. But like the dogma of religion, Kristoff never lost faith in the Royal Police. Even now, he still held out hope.
"You're going to learn that the experiences your relatives have here are a whole lot different from the experiences you've had in Norway," Kristoff began. "Things are a lot tougher here. There's more violence, more crime."
Kristoff glanced at Anna. She was quiet, watching traffic roll past at a red light.
"I just don't want to see you getting hurt. Not too long ago a close friend of mine got shot. Her name's Elsa. Constable Arendelle."
Anna tensed.
"Her partner, a probationer, was stabbed. She was Elsa's cousin, Constable Rapunzel Corona. She died. Her holster was empty. She was shot in the head with her own gun."
He took a deep breath.
"Elsa, when she got shot, fell down a flight of stairs. The suspect violently assaulted her."
Kristoff wiped his hands on his vest.
"I was there. There was blood everywhere. You could smell it. There was a big pool of it, and it stuck to my boots, my hands, my vest. I saw Elsa, and there was blood running down her face, and-"
Kristoff's voice caught in his throat. He took a few moments to steady himself.
"Sorry." Kristoff glanced at Anna. Her face was flush and tears were streaming down her face.
"Are you crying, Anna?"
Anna shook her head.
"Did you know Elsa?"
Anna was silent.
"Is Elsa Arendelle your relative?"
Silence.
"Are you related to Agdar Arendelle?"
"You know, you're really touchy with people!" snapped Anna. "Are you like that with everyone you meet?"
"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate."
"What kind of fucking question is 'Are you related to Agdar Arendelle?' What the hell is wrong with you?"
Anna wrenched the door open.
"Don't follow me."
Anna slammed the door and walked into the hospital.