stakeout chapter 4
Sunnydale, Calif.
September 5, 1998
Saturday 2:45 AM
Tim Harris leaned tiredly back in the driver's seat of the SUV, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Their duty tour was almost over and Tim felt like hell, no pun intended.
After the teams had been formed a couple of months before, they had plunged into near-frenetic activity. The first week had been nothing but planning - training, weapon and gear issue, patrols, analyzing previous crime patterns.
Scott Kelly and Steve Angelo had been busy that first week doing some discrete hacking. Sheriff Greer had given permission for the techs to break into the Sunnydale PD computers after the crime reports and statistics they had been using began to look suspect after close scrutiny. Their hunch proved to be correct once the techs found the real figures. The actual numbers shocked everyone - the City of Sunnydale had twice the homicide rate and four times the assault rate than had been publicly revealed.
The training for the Special Enforcement Unit, as they were officially known as, hadn't been easy, but it wasn't all that difficult either. Since Gabriel, Peter Murray, Matt Parker and Tim had either SWAT or military backgrounds, it had been a matter of getting Scott and Steve up to speed while getting in proper shape themselves. The techs had cursed under their breath on the runs and complained loudly when their (relatively low) shooting scores resulted in paying for beers at the First Asterisk bar. But a couple months later, the techs were keeping up with the shooters on the runs and buying beers only infrequently now.
Rudimentary patrol tactics and signals hadn't taken long to absorb, so two weeks after formation the teams started patrolling. Nothing heavy-duty at first; they did walk-throughs of the various parks, alleys, and streets where attacks took place. They didn't see any vampires at first, since they had gone in all together with powerful lights and no attempts at stealth. Once they started doing decoy and solo ops however, the story had changed dramatically.
Decoy ops was the official name, but informally they were called sucker plays. With two shooters watching him, one man would pretend to be drunk or lost and go into a hot zone. Since the shooters were in continuous close observation and radio contact with the decoy, if and when a vampire attacked the others could intercede if necessary.
Solo ops were similar to decoy ops, but with one important difference; the shooters could not be close to the decoy without blowing his cover, so they would be farther back than normal to provide backup. They would respond, of course, but they could be anywhere from 10 seconds to a minute away - a long time in a hand-to-hand fight. So far only Tim and Peter Murray were cleared to do solo ops, since they were the most experienced fighters on the teams.
Their first staking had occurred almost by accident. Gold Team had been going down an alley behind a club called the Bronze when they had seen a girl leaning up against a wall crying. When Murray walked up to her to ask what was wrong, the girl had spun around and leapt at him, vamp face in place. Only the fact that Murray had been so much bigger than the girl had kept him from being knocked down. As it was, Murray was so busy fending off the vampires' punches and kicks that it was Matt Parker was the one that ran up behind the girl and staked her.
After that both teams moved around more carefully. They never approached someone without at least one team member having their hands on a weapon, firearm or otherwise.
Tim stepped on the gas once the light finally turned green. The dark blue GMC Yukon smoothly accelerated, not disturbing Gabriel Martin, reading printouts in the front passenger seat, or Scott Kelly in the back seat working on a laptop computer.
Cruising in the Yukon was one of the better perks of being in Stakeout, as the teams were informally known as. Once the sheriff has signed off on their equipment requests, Gabriel and Tim had gone to Bob Williams to "borrow" the gear and vehicles needed. Memories of the SWAT lieutenant's howl of anguish at the news of losing some of his team's toys still produced laughs at First Asterisk.
In retrospect, Williams couldn't really complain about the requisitions. Most of the weapons and gear they were borrowing were already assigned to the current SWAT team members or had been seized in drug or smuggling cases from the port. The Yukon and the black Chevy Suburban were also drug forfeitures, but the SWAT team had been planning to use those for themselves. The massive vehicles had already been outfitted with dark-tinted windows, running boards, brush guards and extra lights when the department garage installed police lights under the grills and radios under the dash. The techs had just finished their work the day before when Gabriel and Tim showed up on SWAT's doorstep with big smiles on their faces.
Formation of the two teams had happened almost on their own. Peter and Matt had SWAT in common so they naturally gravitated toward each other. That being said, the young blond surfer and the older black family man couldn't look more dissimilar, not that it mattered when they moved through the shooting house silently and in near perfect synch.
Gabriel and Tim paired off since they knew each other from before as well. Scott Kelly wound up on Gabriel's team since he had access to SCSD and SPD computers via his laptop computer and Steve Angelo was more up to speed on the surveillance gear the other team carried in their truck.
Gold Team, consisting of Peter Murray, Matt Parker and Steve Angelo, was the heavy assault team. SWAT team members Peter and Matt carried their callout gear in the large black Suburban, along with Steve's techie gear. Steve had rigged up a sophisticated alarm lockdown system on the truck, since it contained enough weapons, armor and explosives to make a squad of Marines flinch.
Blue Team was made up of Gabriel, Tim and Scott Kelly and functioned as a scout and investigative team. They would check out locations where attacks and disturbances had taken place. Most of these were culled from the SPD computer, where Scott had set up a backdoor access code to facilitate snooping in the restricted files.
Once either of the teams had located a known vampire area, or "hot zone", they would set up a decoy op or link up with the other team to sweep the location, using silenced firearms and blessed weapons to deal with whatever popped up.
Memories of the weapons being issued still brought a faint smile to Tim's lips. With special permission from the sheriff, the team members were allowed to carry personally owned handguns with approval of the unit leader. While Gabriel, Scott and Steve carried the department issue Beretta 92F 9mm pistols, Peter chose a Smith & Wesson 4506 .45 caliber handgun and Matt carried a Heckler & Koch .45 caliber USP Compact pistol. Tim showed his age by carrying a Colt Government Model .45 caliber handgun, the old military service pistol. No one on the team made fun of his choice after he beat them all in the first qualifying firearms test by shooting 495 out of 500 points possible. Matt, the next best shooter, shot only a 490, with everyone else shooting above a 450, the minimum department qualifying score.
Tim, as the unit's main firearms instructor, had decided that combat shooting demanded more stress and a harder target than the regular silhouette. Taking a cue from an story about the Old West gunfighter Wild Bill Hickock, Tim taped playing cards to the silhouettes to be used as targets and told the stunned shooters that the lowest scoring shooter would be buying the team beers at the First Asterisk bar. Shooting rapidly improved after that.
Since the four designated shooters on Stakeout were SWAT qualified, they already were familiar with the H&K MP-5 submachine guns used on the teams. However, Tim was able to scrounge up PDW models, compact versions of the already small weapons. Slung on special tactical shoulder harnesses, they could be carried unseen under a coat but still be drawn and fired accurately in a second and a half. Fitted with silencers and white lights to blind targets, the mini-subguns could empty a 30 round clip in three seconds. A vampire would dust if it took that kind of sustained burst to the head or heart; Gabriel had demonstrated that during the summer against the vampire that had tried to run after chasing a girl from that club.
The techs were familiarized with the subguns, but they mostly stuck with the shotguns that all deputies were trained with at the Academy. Rifles with scopes were also issued for longer distance shooting, but those were used mostly by Tim and Matt.
Traditional weapons ran the gamut from short swords and stakes to small one handed crossbows and hand axes. Scott displayed his weird sense of humor by filling a Super Soaker with holy water and carrying it in his truck.
Heavy Kevlar battle armor with laminated ceramic trauma plates and throat guards were given out. Hidden Agenda jackets, which looked like regular black windbreakers, but with hidden identification panels so they could ID themselves if necessary to carry most of their smaller weapons under. Black balaclava hats, which looked like stocking hats but could be pulled down to cover faces if the need arose.
The members of the teams took the weapon issue in stride, picking out the weapons they felt the most comfortable with and setting it aside, so that each team member had a selection of traditional and modern weapons on the tables in front of them. Once they had all their gear, the team members were instructed to lay out the traditional weapons and to put on the battle armor and line up in front of the tables. That is when the priest was brought in.
Father Anthony Matthias was the department chaplain and a close friend of Sheriff Greer. Presumably the Jesuit priest knew what happened in Sunnydale after dark, since Father Matt didn't bat an eye at being asked to bless some items.
Tim could still remember the slightly uncomfortable looks on the other deputies' faces as Father Matt sprinkled them with holy water and chanted the blessings in Latin. Only Gabriel and Tim were Catholic, so the others were not familiar with the rituals as the wizened man in black blessed them, their armor, and their swords and other traditional weapons.
Tim made a right turn at the next corner, driving along the short picket fence of Restfield Cemetery. Glancing over through the fence, Tim saw figures moving among the headstones and slowed the truck to a stop along the curb opposite the cemetery.
Feeling the vehicle stop, Gabriel looked up from his printouts. "Got something, Tim?"
"Something's moving in the cemetery," Tim responded. Shutting off the engine, he lowered his window and reached for a night vision scope behind his seat. Flipping the scope's power on, Tim started sweeping the graveyard, trying to pick up the movement again.
"Not now. Please God not now. I'm still trying to get the vamp dust out of my coat," Scott groused. He closed his laptop and picked a parabolic mike, ready to start scanning as well.
"You just want to hit the rack, Scott. And if your coat gets dirty, it's because you keep getting knocked on your ass by tangos," Tim replied softly, using the team code word for targets, such as vampires.
Gabriel chuckled. The team leader would normally let the two bicker, since they would knock it off the second something turned serious.
"Tallyho - I've got three possible tangos at 10 o'clock, they look human." Tim increased the magnification of the scope, zooming in on the figures.
"Got 'em," Scott replied. Switching on the mike, he pointed the dish out his own open window at the figures, trying to hear if they were talking.
"OK... two short ones and a tall one... moving natural..." Tim said, watching them approach the cemetery fence, gradually coming close enough so that he would be able to make out faces.
"Picking them up... putting them on speaker." Kelly disconnected his earphones and plugged in a mini-speaker.
"-still can't believe you're looking forward to your homework, Wil. You'll probably have it all done by October."
"I will not! I haven't done that since... since..."
"Freshman year, Wil. And you didn't do it since then only because we were with... were busy all the time."
'Don't tip toe around it. You meant to say 'when we were with Buffy.' Remember the rules, Xander."
By the time Tim could clearly make out the faces of the approaching figures. The voices and names were a giveaway, but Tim's hands still tightened on the scope when he saw Xander Harris with Willow Rosenberg and her boyfriend Oz. Relaxing his grip, Tim turned to Gabriel and raised an eyebrow, silently asking for instructions.
Gabriel shook his head; he recognized the names and voices as well. "Let's get going, Tim. Head for home."
Tim put down the scope and turned on the truck engine. Rolling up the windows, he dropped the truck into gear and pulled into the street, away from the three teens.
Scott flipped open his laptop and began to work, but Gabriel kept an eye on Tim. Gabriel could tell that seeing his nephew had affected Tim, but only because his lips had tightened in an otherwise calm face.
"I wonder why we haven't seen that many tangos. We've only averaged one or two tangos a week," mused Gabriel aloud.
"It's summer, boss. Less tangos 'cuz the days are longer," Scott replied absently, pecking at his keyboard. "They either sleep longer or they move to darker climes."
"Hmm... but it's September now. Days are getting shorter. So attacks are going to rise?" Gabriel asked.
"From what I pulled from SPD, attacks will double once school starts. I guess tangos like their meals young," responded Scott, his voice flat.
Tim's lips tightened some more but otherwise did not react. Gabriel decided not to say anymore and instead turned up the volume of the police radio that had been muttering softly throughout the night. Just then three loud beeps came from the radio - the signal for a dangerous call.
-- All units available, Unit 3 Bravo 9, 211(armed robbery) in progress, 500 W. Main Avenue, Speedy Gas & Mart, silent alarm, no answer phone. Unknown subjects, respond code 2 (emergency lights, no siren). --
The female voice on the radio had announced an armed robbery in progress at a gas station in Sunnydale. Even though the city had a big enough problem with assorted undead bad guys, actual human crimes were not low either. That being said, armed robberies were not that common.
-- 3 Bravo 9, copy, code 2. --
-- 3 Bravo 14, in on that, code 2. --
-- 3 Bravo Sam 1, responding, code 2. --
-- 3 Bravo 9, 3 Bravo 14, 3 Bravo Sam 1, copy response, code 2. --
Three units had responded. The assigned unit and two nearby units had confirmed that they were responding to the call, one of them a supervisor unit, probably a sergeant.
Tim looked over at Gabriel, eyebrow raised again. This time Gabriel nodded and reached for the radio handset. Tim flipped on the red and blue emergency lights and sped up as Gabriel spoke into the handset, using their code designation for Sheriff Stakeout Blue Team to identify themselves
-- Sheriff unit Sierra Bravo responding to 211 in progress , code 2. --
There was a few seconds silence before the dispatcher responded.
-- Sheriff unit Sierra Bravo, copy response, code 2. --
"Sunnydale's Finest are happy to hear from us, right?" Tim spun the steering wheel, guiding the SUV onto another street.
"You could say that," Gabriel replied.
-- Dispatch, 3 Bravo 9, 10-97 (on scene) with 3 Bravo 14. --
-- 3 Bravo 9, 3 Bravo 14, copy 10-97 --
The first two units had announced that they had arrived at the scene to dispatch, who confirmed their call.
"How much longer to get there?" Gabriel shoved his paperwork into a notebook and put it aside,
"Two minutes, max." Tim had just made another turn, heading down Main Avenue when a different voice came over the radio.
-- Dispatch, 3 Bravo 14. Location secured. Change call from 211 to 187. Requesting paramedics, CSU and Henry Unit response. --
The radio transmission was not crystal clear, but listeners could hear how shaky the officer's voice was. With good reason - he had just changed the call from an armed robbery to a murder. The officer had also requested that Crime Scene Unit and Homicide Unit respond. The paramedics were just a formality.
Slowing down, the three men could see two sets of emergency lights at a gas station ahead. As Tim pulled up behind the black & whites parked in front of the gas station, they saw a uniformed officer run from the inside of the store and around the corner of the building.
Just as the three deputies threw opens their doors and jumped out of the truck, thinking the officer was pursuing a suspect, retching sounds became audible. Slowing to a walk, the three saw that the uniformed officer bent over, throwing up what was left of his dinner.
"Not a good sign, eh?" Scott cracked.
"Not likely," Gabriel replied. "Stay here with him, Scott. Make sure your tac link's on." Gabriel and Tim turned and walked back to the front of the gas station, trying to spare the sickened officer more embarrassment.
Speedy Gas & Mini-Mart
Sunnydale, Ca
September 2, 1998
Wednesday 3:00 AM
As Gabriel and Tim approached the open front door of the gas station, the two pulled at tabs on their black windbreaker jackets, revealing reflective panels with the word "Sheriff" on the back and front right panels and an embroidered badge patch on the front left. Once they got to the door, Gabriel noticed what Tim was carrying in his hands.
"Sure you brought enough gun, Tim?" Gabriel enquired, making sure his tac radio earpiece-mike was in place.
"Can you ever have too much?" Tim shot back, settling the sling of the SIG 551 assault carbine across his back. Snapping the folding stock into place, he tested the white light mounted on the weapon before pulling back the charging handle, chambering the first 5.56 mm caliber round. "You think there's going to be a shootout, you bring a rifle. After you," Tim said, motioning toward the door.
Gabriel drew his Beretta pistol and pointed toward the ground. Standing alongside the door he called out, "Sheriff's Department, anyone in there?"
A shaky male voice responded, "Officer Roberts, Sunnydale PD. You can come in."
Gabriel and Tim moved through the door and saw a uniformed officer standing by the cashier's booth. The two men quickly went through the aisles and the back rooms, making sure no one was hiding in there before joining the officer at the booth.
The officer looked a few years older than the one outside but didn't look much better. The harsh florescent lighting made his pallor into a near ghostly white.
Both Tim and Gabriel had seen dead people as part of the job, in photos and at crime scenes. But this one was different.
There was shattered Plexiglas all over the floor; someone had smashed through the booth door.
The cashier was laying on the floor flat on his back, legs curled beneath him. There was a look of horror set on his face, unseeing eyes wide open.
The dead man's head was at an odd angle, his neck apparently broken; his throat was ripped open as well, although there was little blood visible.
The man's arms were splayed out on the floor. The fingers on the left hand were at odd angles; it looked like someone had broken them deliberately.
Laying off to the side of the body was a handgun, a revolver. The smell of gunpowder suggested that the dead man may have gotten some shots off at his attacker before being overpowered.
The register and the safe under the counter were open and empty. There also appeared to be some cartons of cigarettes and bottles of liquor missing as well.
Seeing the video camera mounted in the corner, Gabriel turned and spoke to Tim, who was standing behind him. "Go look in the back room for a VCR. Don't touch it, just check." Tim nodded and walked toward the back of the market.
Crouching down after holstering his pistol, Gabriel put the back of his fingers against the dead man's cheek. He felt warmth; not surprising considering that the alarm had been triggered only about ten minutes ago.
Whispering some words under his breath, Gabriel made the sign of the cross and stood, just as a loud voice came from behind him. "The SD is doing last rites now? Man, have you guys need to get a life."
Recognizing the voice, Gabriel turned to see Jimmy Lewis grinning at him.
On the fortunately few occasions that Gabriel had to deal with Lewis, he found the Sunnydale police detective to be loud, obnoxious, and not as smart as he believed himself to be. Ten years older than Gabriel, with short cropped blonde hair, lean under an ill-fitting suit, Lewis looked like the archetypical plainclothes cop.
As Gabriel faced him, Lewis' smirk got wider. The older cop liked to push people when he thought he had the upper hand, and Gabriel was treading on Lewis' turf. "Already solved the case, Martin? 'Cuz we local cops are all atwitter when you county guys show us how it's done."
"It's a two-eleven gone one-eighty-seven. Register and safe empty, missing cigarettes and liquor. Although there are strange elements to this crime," Gabriel said, his voice detached and professional.
"Such as?" Lewis' voice remained mocking.
"The fact that the booth was broken into, the type of injuries on the victim, the cause of death, the lack of blood on the scene, the shots fired by the victim's weapon..." Gabriel still spoke in his detached voice.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you talking about here? Lack of blood, injuries, cause of death? It looks pretty straightforward to me." Lewis' voice went from mocking to confused.
"In other words, someone smashed through a shatterproof door, grabbed the victim even though he fired a handgun at him, broke his fingers to convince him to open the safe, ripped his throat out and snapped his neck even though there is only a small amount of blood on the scene, grabbed the money, some smokes and booze, and fled the scene before PD responded." The detachment in Gabriel turned into coldness as he described the incident.
"The hell you say! It sounds like we should be looking for a monster instead of a stickup artist." The smirk was back on Lewis' face. "Once we get the video from the camera we'll see what this guy really is."
The words had just left Lewis' lips when there was the loud *clack-clack* sound that was made only one way - working the action of a firearm. Lewis froze in place; the sound had come from right behind him.
Gabriel and Officer Roberts were facing Lewis, so they saw who had made the sound. Flicking his eyes past Lewis, Gabriel asked, "You find anything?"
Spinning around, Lewis saw Tim Harris standing behind him, casually loading a loose cartridge into the detached magazine of his carbine. Tim had worked the charging handle of his weapon to clear the chambered round, but he also wasn't unaware that doing so right behind Lewis would probably scare him.
"There's a monitoring system for the cameras, but someone took the tapes. Our bandit, I presume." Tim reinserted the magazine into his carbine and slung his weapon muzzle down at his side.
"You touch that machine, Harris?" The fear on Lewis' face was quickly replaced by something uglier.
"Nope, the VCR was empty. Good to see you again, Mr. Lewis." The sarcasm in Tim's voice was palpable.
"Sergeant Lewis to you, Harris. What the hell you doing here anyway? You're just an over-the-hill soldier playing at being a cop. No wonder you only made reservist." The scorn in Lewis' voice cut like a bullwhip.
"I've been a regular deputy for the last three months. Wanna see my badge?" Tim shot back, disdain in his voice.
Lewis started toward Tim when Gabriel stepped between the two men and spoke. "Tim, go check on Scott, will you? I haven't heard from him yet on the tac link."
Watching as Tim walked out of the mini-mart, Lewis turned to Gabriel, anger plainly written across his broad face. "You two done messing up my crime scene? I need to get to work here," Lewis snarled.
"We're done here, Sergeant. Glad to have been of assistance. Have a good night." Gabriel spoke with a straight face before turning and walking out, Lewis glaring at his back as he left the mini-mart.
Walking up to the Yukon, Gabriel saw Tim walking from the back of the mini-mart, lighting a cigarette with what looked to be a battered Zippo lighter. Scott and the second police officer came behind him, with the officer reentering the store and Scott and Tim walking toward the Yukon and Gabriel.
"What happened in there? That officer was pretty shook up," Scott asked, looking from Tim to Gabriel.
"Two-eleven gone one-eighty-seven by a split personality tango," Gabriel replied, watching Tim puff on his cigarette.
"Split-personality tango? How's that?" Scott queried.
"The tango was dumb in that he smashed through the bandit-barrier door and probably got shot in the process, but smart in that he pulled the surveillance tape. And vicious in that he broke the victim's fingers until he opened the safe and ripped his throat out and snapped his neck."
Scott whistled softly. "So what do we do now?"
"Sergeant Lewis has the case and we don't have official cause to take it away from him. What you can do is to go into the SPD computer and see if there are any other robberies with the same MO," Gabriel said, referring to a criminal's method of operation.
"OK, I'm on it," Scott replied. He got back into the back seat of the SUV and fired up his computer to start the search.
Gabriel watched as Tim continued to smoke, questions about the encounter inside on his mind. Finally, he spoke, asking a dumb question. "I thought you stopped smoking, Tim."
"I still smoke every once in a while. Especially at dead body crime scenes. Helps cover up the smell." Tim's smoke was more than half finished.
"Why did you call Lewis 'Mister'? He's a police sergeant, not a regular citizen." Gabriel's next question was more relevant.
"All the tac officers at Sunnydale Police Academy were called 'Mister'." Tim looked at his smoke, visibly debating to put it out or not.
"Lewis was your tac officer? *The* tac officer?" Gabriel asked, remembering the story Tim had told him months ago.
"Yep. Relieved of duty, lost his promotion, almost fired." Tim took another puff from his cigarette.
"Why wasn't he fired?"
"His uncle is Sunnydale Chief of Police. That's why I was disqualified from Sunnydale PD." Tim flicked the coal from the butt of his smoke and stepped on it, flipping the dead butt into a nearby trash can. Looking back at Gabriel he asked with a raised eyebrow, "Anything else?"
"No. Let's get going." With that both men got back in the Yukon. Tim started the engine and pulled out, passing the ambulance coming in as they left the gas station and drove back the way they came.
end stakeout chapter 4