stakeout chapter 2

Sunnydale County Sheriff's Department

Headquarters Building

June 29, 1998

Monday, 3:20 PM

After the sheriff's last remark, the office was silent for a few moments, broken only when Greer sighed and leaned back in his chair. Gabriel looked down at the unit authorization, his mind whirling with ideas and problems.

"I know that it's really too early to ask this, Sergeant, but do you have any idea on how you are going to organize this?" Greer asked. Opening a polished wooden box on his desk. and pulling out a cigar, Greer offered another one to Gabriel, who silently shook his head. Gabriel watched as Greer cut and lit the cigar, waiting until the fragrant smoke appeared before responding to the question.

"Well sir, I was thinking of forming the six men in the unit into two teams. Each team would be made up of two shooters and a tech. The tech would be a shooter as well, just that his main responsibility would be to deal with surveillance and detection gear." Gabriel paused for a second, watching as Greer nodded and motioned with his cigar for him to continue. "The two teams would patrol separately, with training twice a week during the day. With your permission, I would like to have a couple of men from the SWAT team and from Intel Division assigned to the unit. I can give you their names right now if you like."

Greer nodded again and pushed a sheet of paper across the desk. Gabriel quickly wrote on the paper and handed it back to the sheriff. Glancing at the sheet, Greer looked at Gabriel.

"Getting these men shouldn't be a problem. There are only four names on this list though. Presumably, you are the fifth man?" Gabriel nodded. "Who's the sixth man?"

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, visibly putting his thought in order before speaking. "Sir, this deputy is a former Army Ranger, with multiple decorations for valor. He helps train the SWAT team even though he is not a member of the team. He was involved in one shooting with the Department, saving the life of a citizen."

"So what is the problem? This man sounds like an ideal candidate for the unit," the sheriff asked.

"The problem, sir, is that Timothy Harris is only a reserve deputy."

"I see." The problem was not an insignificant one. Reserve deputies had the same authority and powers as regular deputies, only they were unpaid and worked an average of four duty shifts a month. Because of this, reservists were not allowed to join specialized units such as SWAT, as the training and money involved made it obvious that regular deputies had to take the positions. "Tell me about Harris. What does he do for a living?"

"Sir, Tim Harris owns Harris Hardware on Oak Street in River Valley. After Tim retired from the Army, he took control of the family business and did well for himself. However, he got bored and decided to join the police reserves in Sunnydale. He went through a regular police academy with his own money and graduated near the top of his class. By that time, Tim apparently changed his mind and applied to the Sheriff's Department and was accepted as a reservist."

"How has Harris done since he joined the department?" the sheriff asked, leaning back in his chair while puffing on his cigar.

"Tim works a minimum of two duty shifts every week and sometimes more if coverage is needed somewhere. In the two and a half years he's been on the department he has not been disciplined and has been involved in one shooting that was ruled justified and received a commendation."

"Let me see if I understand. You want someone who has all the qualifications for your unit but department regs won't allow you to accept him because he is a reservist. Am I correct?" Greer asked.

"Yes, sir." Gabriel was curious as to where this was going. It almost sounded as though the sheriff was going to say no, but quite.

"Well then, I guess there is only one thing we can do." The stern tone of his voice was belied by the twinkle in Greer's eyes.

The First Asterisk Bar

Sunnydale

June 30, 1998

Tuesday, 7:30 PM

Entering the First Asterisk Bar was always something of a shock to the first-time visitor. More than one person compared it to walking into the alien bar scene in the first Star Wars movie.

Located in the basement of an industrial building on the outskirts of the city limits, First Asterisk was not that easily found and it was preferred that way. Dark, smoky, and politically incorrect, as the beer company posters of scantily clad women attested to, it was the customers that usually scared people.

Among the customers were large hulking men in dirty denim with shaved heads and Fu Manchu mustaches, skinny long-haired types that looked as though they were two days out of prison and 10 minutes past their last crystal meth hit, and strangest of all, clean-cut guys in slacks and hideous Hawaiian shirts that were talking with the other bar inhabitants as though there was nothing odd about it. Meanwhile, country music played from the jukebox at a volume that was just short of deafening.

It was only until that visitor saw the portrait behind the cash register that they usually relaxed. In the portrait stood James Patrick, the bar owner, in full SWAT gear, a gleam apparent in his eyes. The realization that most if not all of the bar patrons were off-duty and undercover police officers usually brought a sigh of relief from the worried visitors.

Gabriel Martin always looked at the portrait when he came into the bar, as did many of the other patrons. It served as a reminder that as tough and hard you thought you were, there was always someone out there that was even more so or just plain lucky. Jim Patrick discovered this when he walked into an ambush on a drug raid and caught a burst of rounds in his stomach and legs. Paddy's armor had stopped the stomach rounds, but the damage to his leg was so severe it was amputated above his left knee.

Gabriel had just walked up to the bar when a mug of draft beer slid to a stop in front of him. Looking up from the beer, Martin saw a man walking toward him, hobbling slightly on his artificial leg, his blue eyes twinkling.

"I see you still remember what I drink, Paddy,' Gabriel said, shaking hands with the bar owner.

"Aye, and 'tis a miracle too, with ye not coming in no more. That sergeant's shield making you think yer better than us now, lad?" Paddy's Irish accent came to him naturally, as both his parents came from the auld sod. Even so, Paddy only used it when teasing someone or when telling one of his tall tales.

"You know better, Paddy. Nothing like 12 hour shifts to make a man want to be with his wife and family," replied Gabriel, taking a sip of the cold brew.

"Aye, that would be true, lad, if you *had* a wife and family to go home to." Paddy took a sip of his own beer and continued to speak in his regular non-accented voice. "So Gabe, how's it going at Major Crimes?"

"Not too bad, though I wasn't kidding about the hours. This is the first time in three months that I've hadn't had a case hanging over me." Gabriel looked around and back at Paddy. "Is Tim Harris here tonight?"

"Yeah, he came in a few minutes ago. He got a beer and been sitting in that corner by himself. You here to see him?" asked Paddy.

"I going to make him an offer he can't refuse." Gabriel's Italian accent was so bad that Paddy recoiled in mock horror.

"Away, away with ye! The mere sound of your voice will haunt me 'til the end of me days!!!" Laughing, Gabriel shook Paddy's hand again before picking up his beer and walking to the far corner, where a lone figure sat in a booth drinking from a glass mug.

Tim Harris looked ten years younger than his 43 years of age. Most of this was due to the laugh lines that radiated from his eyes and mouth. His dark brown hair, neatly trimmed full mustache, and casual clothes presented the image of a successful, preppy businessman, but the tired look in his dark brown eyes made you realize that this person had seen more in the world than he would have wanted to.

"Is it me or does the jukebox keep playing the same Garth Brooks song? 'Cause that's what is sounds like to me," Tim said in greeting as Martin put his beer on the table and slid into the opposite seat.

"Don't you know? *All* country music is the same song played *over* and *over* and *over* again." Both men grinned at the pithy comment. "How's it going, Tim?"

"Same old same old. Sell hammers and nails during the week, chase drunken kids on weekends. Last week was a bit more fun; I got to see the look on Lt. Williams' face when I was teaching the guys to Australian rappel." Tim grinned lopsidedly.

Gabriel smiled at the image. Lt. Bob Williams was one of the team leaders on SWAT. Calm during a crisis, Williams was a bit more high-strung during training. Gabriel could imagine the look on his face as Tim taught the SWAT team members how to walk on the side of a building using rappel ropes, with the climber literally standing horizontally - facing down.

"What's up, Gabe? All I know is that you left a message at the store to meet you here. No reason, no explanation." Tim took another drink while watching Gabriel consider the question.

"Can you tell me about your shooting incident?" Gabriel saw that the question surprised Tim.

"What's there to tell? You've heard the story before." Tim put his beer down and looked at Gabriel closely.

"I want to hear it from you." Gabriel and Sheriff Greer had spent the day going over the prospective team members' personnel records, including Tim's.

"What's to tell? My partner and I responded to a call of screaming in Rose Fields Park. We split up and I found the woman and perp behind some trees. I lit them up with my light and ID'd myself. The perp rushed me with what looked to be a edged weapon in his hand. I put two rounds in the guy and he spun around and took off. The woman was badly injured, so I stayed with her and called for paramedics. Sunnydale PD screwed around like usual and by the time we got dogs out there we lost the trail at a sewer manhole."

"What was strange about what happened?" Tim's story matched the official report so far.

"Strange? You mean besides the fact that the guy was wearing a monster mask? That I put two rounds in his X-ring and he still ran off and escaped? That the sweet nothings he whispered in the victim's ear was that he was going to drink her blood and eat her heart? Or that Sunnydale PD flat-out refused to go into the sewers to search for the perp even though it was already daylight by that time? Oh, there was nothing strange... for Sunnydale or it's wonderful PD." Tim rolled his eyes and took a drink from his mug of beer.

"You sure about the two rounds?" Gabriel knew this was important.

"Positive. Not only did I see the hits, there was a major blood trail that stopped halfway to that manhole cover." Tim picked up his beer and looked at Gabriel with a frown.

"There's one more thing I want to hear about, if you don't mind," Gabriel asked, his tone neutral. "Tell me about the incident at Sunnydale Police Academy when you were a cadet."

Tim's eyes went from curious to cold to wary in the space of a half-second. and went back to cold before he began to speak.

"One of the tactical officers at the Academy was sexually harassing a female cadet. I had gone into the gym after class to get my bag when I heard voices.

"Before they saw me, I heard the tac officer tell the cadet that if she didn't "accept his proposal" he would bust her out of the Academy. This was while he had the cadet at attention and he was standing way too close to her.

"The two finally saw me and the tac officer tried to BS his way out of the situation. I told the cadet to come with me to the Academy Commandant's office and the tac officer lost it, yelling at both of us to stay put. We walked from the gym into the quad and he came out after us, still yelling. In front of a squad of cadets he grabbed and spun me around, and my fist "accidentally" hit him in the jaw and knocked him down."

Tim paused to take a drink of beer, eyeing Gabriel for a couple of seconds before continuing the story.

"The other tac officers ran over and held back the one I knocked down before he grabbed me again. They took us all to the Commandant's office and the whole story came out. The Commandant relieved the tac officer of duty and ordered that no charges be filed against me.

"An official inquiry found that there was insufficient evidence of sexual harassment and the tac officer stayed on the force, but did discipline him for attacking me. The female cadet graduated number three in the class and left Sunnydale PD "without prejudice" immediately afterwards. She's now an officer at Shady Hills PD.

"After I graduated, I was informed that "due to injuries and wounds received in military service" I was now disqualified from joining Sunnydale PD. I applied to the other departments in the county but they didn't have anything available. SCSD had a reserve slot open, so I took it. That was almost three years ago."

Tim took another drink of his beer and put it down on the table. "You want to tell me what this is about, Sergeant?" Tim asked, with emphasis on the rank.

Gabriel smiled at Tim. "Don't worry, I just wanted to hear the stories from you. What I'm about to tell you can't go any further." Gabriel waited until Tim nodded his assent.

"SCSD is forming a special unit. It's going to deal with incidents like the one in the park."

Tim interrupted. "Investigate, you mean?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, it's going to be proactive, try to prevent incidents. And that is all I can tell you. What I need to know is if you would volunteer to join this unit."

Tim looked steadily at Gabriel. "Probably, but there is one little problem. Reservists can't join special units. That's why I'm not on SWAT, remember?"

"Besides that, would you volunteer?" Gabriel matched Tim's level stare.

"Yeah, I would. But isn't the point moot?" Tim frowned slightly as he spoke.

"Not exactly. Do you have your star with you?" Gabriel referred to Tim's deputy sheriff's badge.

"Sure." Tim reached inside his jacket, pulled out a slim leather wallet and pushed it across the table to Gabriel, the frown still on his face.

Gabriel flipped open the wallet and saw the gold star and photo ID card inside. Closing the wallet, Gabriel reached inside his coat and produced an identical wallet and handed it to Tim.

Opening the wallet, Tim saw his photo and name on the ID card. On the line marked "Rank" was the title "Deputy Sheriff II" instead of the previous title of "Reserve Deputy Sheriff". Looking closer, Tim saw that the badge had a regular badge number instead of one marked by an "R" that the reservists carried. And the sheriff's signature on the ID card was handwritten, not machine printed. Looking up sharply at Gabriel, Tim saw that the younger man was smiling.

"Still interested, Tim?" Gabriel could see that Tim was slightly stunned at what the ID folder represented.

"What about duty tours? I still have a store to run." Tim looked back at the wallet as if to reconfirm what he was actually holding.

"You can have the same amount of hours you put in now, only you'll be paid for them. You'll be working nights mostly, and I'm sure that your manager can pick up any slack at the store. I can tell you the rest later. So, you in?" asked Gabriel again.

"How can I refuse?" With that, both men lifted their beers and tapped the mugs together, sealing the deal.

end stakeout chapter 2