Author's Note: Before we get on with the story, I just wanted to mention a few things...
First, thank you once again to all the readers who took the time to leave a review for this story. Now that this site has their new reply feature, I can send an individual response to anyone who leaves a signed review. So if you log-in before you leave a review, I'll probably be able to send you a reply.
Second, I'm probably going to be taking a short break on this story so that I can get a few chapters out on my other two active stories. I'd love to get KP: Bailout finished, or at least updated with a few new chapters. If you are enjoying this story, I recommend you put it on your 'Story Alert' list, that way you'll know when the next chapter comes out... it's probably gonna be a long one.
Finally, I completely forgot to mention this last chapter, but fellow KP author/artist Eddie Butler III designed an awesome title shot for this story a while back. If you want to see it, you can access it from the link on my 'Personal Profile' page.
And with that, here's chapter five; Kim and Ron's baptism of fire...
Chapter Five
- Possible Residence -
(Tuesday Evening)
That evening, most of the conversation at the dinner table was centered on Kim and Ron's newly acquired jobs as police cadets. The teens were sitting next to each other opposite Jim and Tim while James and Andrea sat at either end of the table. Both parents listened intently as Kim fielded question after question from her brothers.
"So do you get a gun?" Tim asked, looking across the kitchen table at his sister and Ron.
"No, we don't get a gun," Kim replied, slowly growing irritated with her brothers' questions. "We're just cadets, not police officers."
"Well, what about a Billy Club, do you get one of those?" Jim spoke up.
"Or how about mace," Tim added. "Do you get mace?"
"I don't know," Kim shrugged. "I doubt it."
"That bites," Tim grumbled.
"I think we get to carry handcuffs," Ron said before stabbing a piece of meatloaf with his fork and shoving it in his mouth.
"So," Jim scoffed. "Handcuffs aren't that impressive."
"Yeah," Tim agreed. "That creepy Goth kid in our PE class has like, three pairs that he carries around."
"Now boys, what type of gear they get to carry doesn't matter," Andrea scolded. "It's the privilege and responsibility of wearing the uniform that's important."
"Tell that to the suspect," Jim replied under his breath.
Ignoring her son's remark, Andrea turned back toward Kim and Ron and gave them a proud smile. "So when do you two start?"
"Friday," Ron informed her. "We're heading over there right after school."
"Do you know what they're going to have you do your first day?" James asked.
"Not really," Kim admitted. "I think they're going to issue us our uniforms and start training us, but I'm not sure. I guess we'll have to wait and see."
---
- Middleton High -
(Friday)
As soon as school ended Friday, Kim and Ron immediately changed into their traditional mission gear and headed out into the parking lot. Neither of them really knew what their first day was going to be like, but even in spite of the unknown, both teens were admittedly thrilled over the prospect of finally being able to put their talent to a specified use.
While Kim had always enjoyed the concept of free-lance work, there was something about being able to tell someone 'I work for…' that brought about a sense of pride and belonging. The chain of command concept of working for, and taking orders from a superior didn't thrill her, but she hoped it would be tolerable.
"So, you think we'll get to drive our own police car?" Ron asked as they turned out of the student parking lot and headed down the street toward the station.
"What do you mean by 'we'?" Kim quipped, giving her friend a playful jab. "You're the only one of us who has his actual license."
"You're just jealous 'cause I'm older than you," Ron teased. "But don't worry KP; January will be here before you know it."
"Yeah, then all I need to do is talk my parents into buying me a car and we can finally ditch this Smarty Mart bicycle of yours."
"Hey, I happen to think this bike of mine is quite badical, thank you."
"Yeah," Rufus squeaked, popping out of Ron's pocket and crossing his arms in disgust.
Kim just sighed and shook her head as Ron rounded the corner and turned into the front parking lot of the Middleton Police Department.
---
- Middleton Police Dept. -
Pulling into the lot, Kim and Ron both noticed a uniformed officer standing by the curb talking on a cell phone. As they pulled to a stop in the closest open parking stall the officer closed his phone and turned around, giving the teens a friendly grin.
"Well-well-well," the man chuckled in a thick Irish twang. "I didn't believe the rumors, but I guess they're true after all; the world-renowned Team Possible, giving up super villains to fight crime on a local level."
"Hi, Officer Hobble," Kim greeted, slightly relieved to finally find a familiar face in the department.
"Actually," he announced proudly, pointing to the triple echelons sewn below the Middleton PD patch on his uniform's shoulders. "It's technically 'Sergeant' Hobble now. They finally promoted me last month."
"Congratulations!" Kim replied. "So does that mean we report to you now?"
"No, you report to Cadet Haas primarily," the sergeant explained. "But if he's not around, I'm more or less his supervisor."
"Oh, sorry; this whole chain of command thing is still a bit new to me," Kim admitted.
"That's alright, go ahead and drive around back, everyone is waiting there."
"We're not late or anything, are we?" Ron asked fearfully.
"Oh no," Hobble reassured them. "We're still waiting for Bomb Squad to get here from Upperton. They were still tied up in traffic, last I heard."
Kim and Ron both exchanged perplexed looks before glancing back at Sergeant Hobble.
"Did you just say Bomb Squad?" Kim asked apprehensively.
Hobble chuckled and shook his head. "Let's just say you two picked a hell of a day to start your law enforcement careers," he replied with a crooked smile.
---
The back lot of the Middleton Police Department was about half the size of the front. Where the front parking lot housed a little over thirty parking stalls for the surrounding businesses, the back lot, which was used solely by the Middleton PD, had only a single row of fifteen stalls painted along the curb that ran the length of the building.
The first ten stalls were reserved for department-owned vehicles, and were marked with metal signs labeled POLICE PARKING ONLY. The last five stalls in the back corner of the lot were left unmarked and designated for department personnel to park their personal vehicles.
The edge of the lot adjacent the station was intentionally left unpainted so that officers who were on-duty could park their cruisers along the fence-line instead of backing into one of the empty stalls. This was done so that in the event of an urgent call, the officer wouldn't have to waste precious time pulling out of the stall and turning around; they could just jump in, and shoot out of the lot.
Despite its somewhat miniscule size, the back lot was usually large enough to house everyone's department and personally-owned vehicles without fighting over parking. That was, of course, provided that the lot was occupied only by Middleton PD vehicles.
As Ron brought his scooter around the corner of the building, both teens were shocked to see a literal armada of law enforcement vehicles and personnel from several different agencies occupying nearly every open inch of the asphalt lot.
There were three Stevens County Sheriff's Department patrol cars idling in front of a massive white-and-blue semi-type rig which was adorned with a wide array of emergency warning lights and had the words DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY – ATF – BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO & FIREARMS painted along its sides. The uniformed sheriff's deputies and ATF agents were all gathered near the cab of the truck conversing about something.
Behind the rig, Kim saw the same Middleton PD Explorer she had driven in the other day parked next to what looked like a modified ambulance. The 'ambulance' also bore the markings of the Stevens County Sheriff's Department and had the words SPECIAL WEAPONS AND TACTICS painted across the side and back. Not surprisingly, there were five sheriff's deputies dressed in urban fatigues and body armor standing in a group with Peter and Ruiz, who had Max sitting obediently at his feet.
As Ron brought his scooter to a stop next to the back door of the station, he and Kim stared out across the lot in silent fascination. It was Rufus who managed to sum up their feelings in one word:
"Whoa!"
Noticing the new arrivals, Peter nudged Ruiz who, along with the SWAT officers, walked over to where Kim and Ron were standing.
"I see you two are ready for action," Peter announced, examining their choice of clothes with a visible level of amusement.
"Well you didn't really specify what you wanted us to wear," Kim replied a bit defensively.
"Don't worry," Ruiz chuckled. "We're just messing with you. Those outfits will work fine for today."
"Uh, question," Ron spoke up. "What's going on here?"
"We're getting ready to serve a search warrant on the other side of town," Peter announced casually.
Kim glanced down at the assault rifles slung across the deputies' vests and arched her brows. "Who's house is it, Osama Bin Laden?"
"Nah," Ruiz replied. "Just some nutcase Derik arrested last night. Hobble is gonna fill everyone in on the details, we're just waiting for-"
The K-9 officer was interrupted by a uniformed sheriff's deputy, who walked over and said, "Bomb Squad just pulled in. Sergeant Hobble wants everyone up front for briefing."
"Let the games begin," Peter replied, gesturing for Kim and Ron to follow.
---
Once everyone had gathered in front of the police station, Hobble stepped up onto the tailgate of the Upperton PD Bomb Squad truck and began to address the gathered crowd of law enforcement personnel.
"I'd like to start by thanking all of you for your fast response-time today; especially Special Agent Maher and his men from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, who graciously came down from Fresno as soon as we contacted him this morning. Some of you already know what's going on, but for the rest of you, here's the… sitch, if you will."
Kim heard a collective chuckle rise from the crowd as several individuals looked her direction.
"At 06:45 hours this morning," Hobble continued. "One of our graveyard-shift officers received a prowler report at 267 Rose Lane over on the western side of town. The suspect, thirty-six-year-old David Kirby, was contacted in front of his home, which was directly across the street at 266 Rose Lane, and is the location we're going to be searching.
"Kirby was contacted by MPD officers Derik Monroe and Brian Falstad and offered no form of resistance throughout their contact with him. After a short amount of questioning, Kirby revealed that he was, in fact, not prowling, but rather patrolling the neighborhood in order to protect its residents from what he described only as 'evil'. When asked who told him to patrol the neighborhood, Kirby admitted that President Bush was transmitting orders from Air Force One into a microchip in his brain."
Another collective cackle rose from the audience around Kim and Ron as one of the sheriff's deputies coughed "Fifty-one-fifty!"
Hobble chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah well, as amusing as his thought-process was, what wasn't amusing was the fully-automatic MP-5 machine pistol holstered under his coat. A brief search of his living room incident-to-arrest also revealed an unregistered AR-15 assault rifle, five silencers designated for unspecified model firearms, two Safariland Level III Kevlar vests, and an M60 belt-fed machine gun, which also appears to be fully-automatic. Kirby consequently admitted to the presence of several dozen additional firearms, most illegal by his description, as well as some explosive devices inside the house."
This time when Hobble paused, no one was laughing.
"At this time, Kirby is not at the residence. He was arrested without incident and taken to the Middleton Medical Center this morning for psychological evaluation pending criminal prosecution. That doesn't necessarily mean, however, that the residence is unoccupied. Officer Monroe has been standing-by in front of the residence since 07:00 hours this morning while a search warrant was procured and the proper personnel could be contacted.
"When we arrive at the location, Lieutenant Gordon and his team are going to perform a search of the residence for any additional suspects," Hobble explained, gesturing toward the SWAT officers. He then nodded toward the two Bomb Squad officers and added, "Sergeant Williams and Officer Blanke will accompany his team and deactivate any booby-traps that may be present in the house.
"Once the house has been declared safe by SWAT and Bomb Squad, Agent Maher and his men will oversee the recovery of all firearms present at the location. All illegal firearms will be photographed, unloaded, and sorted into categories that ATF will clarify later at the scene.
"ATF will also be taking possession of all Class III/NFA firearms as well as any explosive devices. All state-banned firearms will be booked into MPD custody. All legally possessed and registered firearms are to be removed as well, though those will only be placed into safe keeping until the suspect can retrieve them later.
"As soon as we arrive on scene, Cadet Lieutenant Haas, Cadet Possible, and Cadet Stoppable will shut down the street from opposite ends while SWAT and Bomb Squad clear the residence. During that time, no civilian vehicle traffic will be allowed inside the area. Once the scene is deemed safe, they will re-open the road and assist ATF remove and catalogue the evidence."
"Do you want us to keep pedestrians out as well?" Peter asked.
"Only if they don't live there," Hobble replied. "If they want through, check their DL's. If they do live there, tell 'em to stay on the opposite side of the street and keep away from the scene."
Peter nodded understandingly.
"Alright," Hobble spoke up once again. "Dispatch is already aware of what's going on. Once we get on-scene, everyone is going to be operating on TAC 2. Other than that; let's stay safe, and get these guns off the street. Haas, you're in charge of the roadblock. Everyone else reports to ATF."
Peter nodded again and turned toward Kim and Ron as everyone else headed off toward their respective vehicles.
"Ron, you're the one with the driver's license, right?" he asked, pulling a set of car keys from his belt.
"Uh-huh," Ron nodded.
Peter handed him the keys and pointed to the Explorer at the back of the parking lot. "You and Kim go ahead and take Unit 115 over there," he ordered. "We're all gonna head out in a convoy, so just fall-in behind me and I'll tell you where to go once we get there."
"You got it!" Ron saluted.
"Alright everyone," Hobble shouted over the rumbling diesel engine of the ATF rig. "Let's roll!"
---
- 266 Rose Ln. -
(Warrant Service)
Kim had to admit her adrenalin was pumping as Ron followed the convoy onto Rose Lane and pulled to a stop against the curb. As everyone exited their vehicles and congregated on the front lawn of Kirby's house, Kim suddenly felt like she always did before Ron and her entered Drakken's lair. She felt like she was back in a Global Justice hover jet preparing to parachute out over the Bavarian Alps in pursuit of Professor Dementor and his latest doomsday device.
In essence, Kim felt like Team Possible was back in action…
"You guys alright?" Peter asked, walking over to them.
Kim glanced over at Ron and, seeing her friend was practically drooling over all the action, turned back toward the teen and nodded.
"We're okay," Kim assured him. "Right, Ron?"
"This is so cool!" Ron said gleefully.
Kim rolled her eyes and said, "We're fine."
"Glad to hear it," Peter replied, holding out two blue windbreakers with MIDDLETON POLICE printed across the front and back in gold letters. "Go ahead and put these on, since you don't have uniforms yet."
Kim and Ron did as instructed and Peter gestured behind them toward the street intersection at the end of the block.
"Take 115 and park it across the road there so no one can get by. I'm gonna do the same down there at the other end of the block. We're probably not gonna get a lot of cars coming through, but we may get two or three," he explained. "Just like Hobble said; no cars get through, and if they wanna walk, make sure they live here." He then walked over to his own car and retrieved two small blue booklets titled MDC Operator's Guide. They were labeled K. Possible, and R. Stoppable. "Just so you two don't get bored, this booklet will teach you how to operate the MDC's in the car. I wrote down your call signs and employee numbers inside the front covers. By the time we reopen the road, I'll expect both of you to be able to log-on and operate it like a pro."
"Aww man!" Ron whined, taking the booklet from the cadet's hand. "No one told me there'd be reading involved with this job."
"Yeah, well the pain will be worth it, Stoppable," Peter replied. "Besides, you'll learn how to run a criminal history check on your mom and dad."
"Ooh, learning just got fun!" Ron cheered, much to Kim's disdain.
"I'm happy that you're happy," Peter replied sarcastically. "Now let's get this road shut down."
Both teens nodded and hopped back into the Explorer. As soon as Peter pulled away from the curb, Ron flipped a u-turn and drove back up the hill toward the intersection. Arriving at the location, he parked the SUV diagonally across the center of the road and activated the overhead lights like Peter had demonstrated before they left the station.
With their end of the block effectively shut down, Ron turned toward his friend. "Admit it," he said, giving Kim a sly grin.
"Admit what?"
"That this is so much cooler than our old job," Ron explained.
"How exactly is this cooler than world-saving?" Kim asked doubtfully.
"Uh, hello," Ron replied dumbfounded. "Do you not see that giant semi with 'ATF' written all over it?"
"Ron, this is not cooler than world-saving; nothing is cooler than world-saving," Kim explained. She opened the passenger-side door and stepped out before turning and smiling. "But, this is an acceptable substitution."
---
Fifteen minutes later SWAT was still inside the house. If was rather interesting, in Kim's opinion, that the officers were taking so much time to clear the house; on TV it always seemed like SWAT kicked down the door, rushed from room-to-room, and cleared an entire office building within a matter of seconds.
Of course that was television. Reality, as it turned out, was a bit less action-packed. The same was true for their roadblock…
Peter had mentioned that they probably weren't going to get a lot of cars coming through, but he had still said two or three; they hadn't seen a single car since pulling onto the street.
"Is it too much to ask for just one car to come by?" Kim complained, looking down the empty street at Peter's cruiser. "If we get at least one car, then at least we're serving a purpose standing out here in the middle of the road."
Inside the Explorer, Ron was sitting in the driver's seat next to Rufus, who was standing on the ledge of the MDC reading the booklet Peter had given them. The molerat looked from the booklet leaning against the dashboard to the MDC mounted between the seats before typing something and hitting the 'Enter' button. A few seconds later the computer chirped and Rufus gave his master a thumbs-up.
"Booyah!" Ron cheered. "Hey check it out, KP. Rufus and I figured out how to log ourselves onto the computer.
With a disappointed sigh, Kim walked over and leaned into to patrol car.
"See, 25-Q-6; that's me. Rufus figured out how to check everyone's status too," he bragged, hitting another key and bringing up another window. "Here we are; 25-Q-6 and 25-Q-7. They've got us on a 'Code 6W', whatever that means."
"Cool, at least one of us is doing something productive."
"Looks like you're gonna get a chance to do something too," Ron announced, pointing over her shoulder. "We got incoming."
Kim turned around and saw a red convertible sports car sitting at the stop sign. The driver had his turn indicator on and seemed to be debating whether or not to turn down the street. After a few moments, the convertible made the turn and rolled slowly toward Kim and Ron.
As Kim stepped forward and gestured for the driver to stop, Ron walked up next to her and examined the car questioningly. "Haven't we seen this car somewhere before?" he asked.
As the car pulled to a stop in front of them, Kim nodded and replied, "I kind of looks like..." she trailed off as the familiarity of the sports car finally came together.
"Is that… Josh?" Ron asked, noticing the teenaged driver sitting behind the wheel.
At the same moment Josh Mankey shut off the engine of his car and stepped out, looking past the roadblock with a visible degree of concern on his face. Bringing his gaze back toward Kim and Ron, he finally recognized who was standing in front of him.
"Kim? Is that you?" he asked, walking toward them.
"Oh, uh… h-hi Josh," Kim stammered, instantly loosing her cool in front of her long-time crush. "Um… how's it going?"
"I think there's a police officer with a sniper rifle on my front porch," Josh replied, looking over their shoulders.
Kim and Ron both turned and saw a SWAT sharpshooter resting the bi-pod of his rifle against the porch railing of the house across the street from the Kirby residence.
"What's going on down there?" Josh asked, bringing his gaze back to Kim.
"They're, uh…" Kim paused and tried to collect her nerves.
"We're serving a search warrant on the residence across the street," Ron announced authoritatively. "There may be guns and explosives in the house, so SWAT and Bomb Squad are checking the building and we've closed the road to all civilian vehicle traffic. So if you want to walk through that's alright, but I'll have to ask that you stay away from the house across the street."
"So I can't drive through there?" Josh asked, still looking at Kim.
"Well-" Kim began to reply.
"Nope," Ron interjected. "Sorry dude, but that's by order of the Department of Alcohol, Firearms, and Tobacco."
"I thought it was the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms?" Josh asked.
Ron shot a quick glance at the title on the ATF's rig and blushed. "Oh yeah, ha-ha… my bad."
"Hey don't worry about it," Josh reassured them both. "My mom wanted me to grab some stuff from the market anyway, so I can head downtown and come back. This isn't gonna take a long time, is it?"
"I hope not. As soon as SWAT clears the house, they said we could re-open the road," Kim replied, finally managing to force out a complete sentence.
"No problem, it'll probably take me about thirty minutes anyway, so hopefully you two will be able to reopen the road before then," Josh said with a smile. "So, are you two like, police officers now?"
"No, this is just a little part-time volunteer thing to fill our free time," Kim responded nervously.
"We're police cadets!" Ron announced proudly.
Kim was worried about what Josh may think of her working for the police. It wasn't that she saw him as a deviant; it was just that teenagers and police officers tended to clash regardless of their law-abiding personalities.
To her immense relief Josh smiled and nodded. "That's cool," he replied. "I mean, it seems like these days no one is willing to take time and volunteer. You, on the other hand, go out of your way to donate your time and that's something I've always respected about you."
"Really?"
"Sure, it shows that you've got a big heart. That's a rare thing these days, especially among the other kids our age. Anyway, I should probably let you two get back to work. See you Monday at school."
"O-okay!" Kim replied as Josh got back in his car and turned around.
"See ya Monkey," Ron said with a wave.
As soon as he was out of sight, Kim pumped her fist in the air and turned toward her friend with a dreamy look in her eye. "Did you hear that!" she cheered. "He said he respects me! He said I have a big heart! Josh Mankey said I have more dedication than any of the other girls at school!"
"Yah for you," Ron cheered mockingly. "Here's an idea; why don't you just ask him out already?"
"What if he says no?"
Ron opened his mouth to tell her for the millionth time that she would never know unless she asked, but the radio in the Explorer cut him off.
"All units," Sergeant Hobble's voice echoed through the speakers. "SWAT just finished clearing the house. Let's go ahead and re-open the street to traffic, all cadets and officers report to Agent Maher at the ATF command unit for further instructions."
---
By the time Kim and Ron re-opened the road and drove back to the command unit, SWAT and Bomb Squad had already packed up and left. Not knowing what to do next, they walked over to where Peter and Ruiz were standing with one of the men in an ATF windbreaker.
"Here's the plan guys," the agent announced as they approached. "I was just explaining to these officers that we've got my men and a number of sheriff's deputies inside the house removing guns."
"What you two can do," Peter elaborated. "Is carry out the guns that have already been unloaded and checked. There are a lot more than we expected, so for now, we're just gonna start piling them on the front lawn here."
"How many guns are in there?" Ron asked.
"Hundreds," the ATF agent replied.
Turning toward the front door, Kim watched as several agents and deputies came out with literal armloads of rifles, shotguns, and machine guns. One-by-one they walked over and dumped the guns onto the grass near the sidewalk.
"Agent Maher," one of the agents called over to the man next to her. "Do you want us to just dump 'em here, or should we try to sort these out in some type of order?"
The agent thought it over for a few second before replying, "Let's go ahead and sort them into four piles here; rifles, machine guns, and shotguns in one pile, submachine guns in another, pistols in the third, and silencers and explosive devices in the fourth."
The men nodded and began sorting the guns into their respective piles when another ATF agent walked out of the house with what looked to Kim like a mutated version of the infamous Tommy Gun she always saw in old gangster films. It had a large drum magazine and a metal stock that folded up on top of the receiver.
"Hey," the agent with the 'Tommy Gun' called-out to his colleagues. "Does anyone know how to unload this thing?"
"What is it?" one of the deputies asked over his shoulder.
"A gun," the agent replied sardonically.
"That's a Streetsweeper," Ruiz informed the agent. "It's an auto-shotgun."
"So how do I remove the magazine?"
"Hell if I know," Ruiz shrugged, walking past him into the house.
"You can't remove the mag on a Streetsweeper," Hobble announced, walking out the front door and standing on the porch. "You gotta remove each shell individually. There's an extractor rod on the right side of the barrel; use that to unload it manually, like you would on an old single-action revolver."
"I don't… oh wait, here it is," the agent replied, reaching forward with his free hand and grabbing a lever on the side of the barrel. "I just couldn't figure out how to-"
BA-BOOM!
Everyone jumped as the massive shotgun discharged in the ATF agent's arms and sent two 12-guage slugs into the lawn at his feet. Peter dropped to the concrete sidewalk just in time to avoid being hit in the chest by a large chunk of grass and dirt that flew over him and hit the side of the command unit with a loud 'thud'.
Once the initial shock had worn off, everyone took a moment to compose themselves while Agent Maher glared daggers at his incompetent colleague.
"Uh, is everyone alright?" the young agent asked nervously.
"I got dirt in my eye," one of the sheriff's deputies whined.
"Agent Hart," Maher growled. "I'm placing you in charge of sorting these guns into their respective piles, everyone else, just dump 'em over there and Hart will sort them for you."
Agent Hart sighed and hung his head while Maher turned back to face Kim and Ron.
"Possible, you and your partner help the rest of my agents get these guns out of the house," the agent ordered. "And if they hand you something you don't know how to unload, for God's sake give it to someone who can. Can you two handle that?"
"No big," Kim assured him.
---
- Middleton Police Dept. -
In the end, it took a total of four and a half hours for the ATF to locate, remove, and catalogue every gun in the house. In total, 249 weapons and close to 115,000 rounds of ammunition were recovered from various rooms in the house. The illegal firearms recovered ranged from compact submachine guns, to select-fire assault rifles, to sniper rifles with silencers attached to the barrels, to belt-fed machine guns loaded with armor-piercing bullets.
In a shed in the back yard, sheriff's deputies discovered five crates loaded with hand grenades, military Claymore anti-personnel mines, and a loaded RPG-7 rocket launcher. They also recovered an AR-15 assault rifle with an attached grenade launcher and a fully-automatic 30mm M230 cannon which, according to Agent Maher, was normally found mounted underneath an Apache attack helicopter.
When one of the agents or deputies located a gun, Peter would photograph it before they retrieved and unloaded it. Once it was safely unloaded, they would hand it to Kim or Ron, who would in turn carry it out front where Agent Hart was busy sorting and tagging them.
Perhaps the most unsettling discovery that evening was made by Ruiz during a final search of the living room. Noticing a piece of plywood nailed-up against the front wall beneath the window, he and Sergeant Hobble pulled it off, only to discover that Kirby had armored the inside of the wall with Kevlar vests and steel plates.
As Hobble later pointed out, had Kirby been confronted while inside his house and chose to shoot it out with officers, not even SWAT would have stood a chance…
Finally, just before 9:30pm, Kim and Ron pulled into the back lot of the police station and parked their Explorer next to Peter's patrol car.
"Hell of a first day, wasn't it?" Peter asked, walking over and taking the keys from Ron.
"It was certainly an interesting afternoon," Kim agreed. "How was that guy even able to gat a hold of all those guns?"
"Who knows," Peter shrugged. "I guess you can get anything these days if you're willing to risk the jail time. Either way, Kirby's probably gonna be spending time up at the Coalinga State Hospital for a while."
"What are they gonna do with all those guns?" Ron asked.
"They'll probably run tests on all of them to see if they were used in any past crimes, then they'll melt 'em down and make razorblades or something."
"Good riddance," Kim mumbled. "So, when do you want us to come in next?"
"You mean we didn't manage to scare you away with all this nonsense today?" Peter asked in mock surprise.
"So not the drama," Kim replied dismissively.
"I'll tell you what," Peter announced, glancing at his watch. "If you two are willing to give up your day tomorrow, I could probably get you both geared up and fully trained by the end of the day."
Kim glanced over at Ron, who nodded approvingly.
"I think we can do that," Kim replied, turning back toward Peter. "What time do you want us to come in?"
"We should probably start early, so how about you come in a little before six," Peter replied.
"Six pm?" Ron asked eagerly.
"No, six am," the teen replied curtly.
"Six am?" Ron gasped. "I don't even wake up that early on school days!"
"Well then this will be a new experience for you," Peter replied sarcastically.
"Six is fine," Kim reassured her supervisor. "We'll see you then." She grabbed Ron's arm and started to pull him toward his scooter but Peter stopped her.
"Here," he said, holding out two identical keys. "You'll need these to get in; they unlock just about everything in the PD, so try not to loose 'em."
Taking the keys from his hand, Kim and Ron pocketed their keys and walked off toward Ron's scooter.
"Y'know," Kim spoke up as Ron started the bike and pulled out of the lot. "Since this technically counts as a mission, I don't have to be home until eleven. What do you say we hit Bueno Nacho for a late dinner?"
"You read my mind, KP," Ron replied. "Two grande-sized Nacos coming up!"
"More like one Naco, and regular-sized burrito for me," Kim corrected.
"Same difference," Ron shrugged, turning the scooter in the direction of Bueno Nacho.