Recovery

Chapter 11

Journal of John Nolan

I don't know if I've ever been so scared in my life, even during the bank robbery back home. Then, I couldn't really believe it was happening. It was as if I was watching myself as a character in a T.V. show, a bad one. Today, I couldn't have been more present. I heard every sound, smelled every smell, and felt the full measure of fear.

Tim Bradford set up our shop as part of a barrier between warring gangs. They had guns, as well as knives, and God knows what else. We had bigger guns, but we were also outnumbered at least ten to one. Tim warned them that if they advanced, we'd use our M4s to shoot them down. Maybe he meant it, but he'd already told us to use flashbangs to hold them back. Our assault rifles were a last resort, as they always should be.

Despite Bradford's threat, both gangs surged toward us. We threw the grenades, but it only stopped them for moments. Harper had her M4 ready to fire, and I had my hands on mine in case they started moving again. Maybe those moments were all Bradford believed we'd need before help arrived.

More shops pulled up, and I could see gang members starting to stare upward as we received air support. I didn't dare look away from the gangs to see what was going on above us, but I heard later that special tactics officers with very large guns were in the doorway of the helicopter. They laid down lines of fire between our attackers and us on both sides. That got the gangs moving back. Most of the members took off, and we were able to take down and arrest those who didn't.

Some of our people were hurt when gang members drew knives as they moved in, but thank God, none of the injuries required more than a few stitches.

Harper and I made our share of arrests, but I was able to get through the paperwork in time to take my oral from Professor Ryan. The clash was on the news, and she asked me if I was there. Maybe she went easy on me when I told her that I was. I don't know. But I passed. So I'm still on track to earn credit for the course.

Professor Ryan had the syllabus for the night set, so the class didn't discuss what happened with the gangs. But nobody was giving me dirty looks. I guess I can chalk one up for the good guys. I don't know if Tim Bradford was smart or just lucky. If the helicopter hadn't arrived when it did, things could have gone very differently. But I don't know if Grey would have handled the situation another way. Bradford went to the hospital to talk to him, but I doubt anyone else will ever know what they said to each other.


"Sorry to call so late," Tim apologizes. "I know it's one a.m. in New York."

Rachel draws herself up in bed. "It's OK, Bradford. You wouldn't be waking me up if something heavy wasn't going on with you. Lucy called me a couple of hours ago, so I know about Grey and that you had to come up with a strategy to handle the gangs trying to go at each other today. She thought you might be a little off balance."

"I don't need my boot going to my girlfriend about my mental health," Tim retorts.

"Am I your girlfriend, Tim?" Rachel demands. "I haven't heard a word from you in weeks. But Lucy and I have been friends forever. We call each other all the time. She doesn't just talk to me about you. So stop pretending this is about her and tell me why you finally felt you had to talk to me."

"Because I don't know if I'm up to taking over for Grey," Tim confesses. "I don't know how much Lucy told you, but if our air support showed up thirty seconds later, we would have had a massacre. Both the gang members and my people could have died. Rachel, I was lucky, not smart. I think Grey would have been smart."

"Did he tell you that?" Rachel asks.

"No," Tim admits. "He said he doesn't know what he would have done. But I'm used to going at things head-on, full bore. I wasn't sure how to work for the peace. That's a lot more Grey than it is me."

"And yet you had your people intervene to prevent an all-out war. And you succeeded. Give yourself permission to feel good about that, Tim. Tomorrow you could be making another split-second decision. You won't have time to second-guess yourself. Try to get some sleep and come at the job fresh in the morning."

Tim scrubs his hand down his face. "I don't know if I can."

"Lucy recorded the manual for the Sergeant's exam for you, didn't she?" Rachel inquires.

"Yeah, she did."

"Listen to it. If it doesn't put you to sleep, you can at least reassure yourself that you didn't make any stupid mistakes."

"All right," Tim agrees. "Thanks, Rachel."

"Good night, Tim."


Applause sounds throughout the roll call room as Tim Bradford takes the podium. He holds his hand up for quiet. "That's enough. First thing, I have a new update on Sergeant Grey. He's doing better and should be able to go home in a couple of days." When applause breaks out again, Tim doesn't try to stop it. "Now," he continues as the ovation tapers off, "maybe we're feeling a little proud of ourselves for the way yesterday went down. But at most, we have a temporary cease-fire. The gangs aren't giving up on trying to win that territory.

"Also, some video popped up on YouTube last night of the special tactics team aiming their weapons from the helicopter. It was edited to make the actions of the L.A.P.D. look as aggressive as possible. So don't be surprised if we see another surge in anti-police protests. So far, we don't have any intelligence about planned demonstrations, but our people are still checking with their sources. Be prepared to be pulled off your regular patrols at any time.

"West, I want you with Harper today. Nolan, you'll take his place at the desk. We're expecting a visit from a Professor Fiona Ryan. I understand that the two of you are acquainted."

"I'm in her class if that's what you mean," Nolan responds. "But I don't think you could call me teacher's pet."

Tim slams his palm on the podium as laughter rolls through the room. "We don't have time for that right now. Officer Nolan, as part of the new ethics program, Professor Ryan will be checking out our body cams to make sure that they're fully functional and that no footage embarrassing to the L.A.P.D. is being covered up. You will assist her in any way she asks."

"But don't do the usual Nolan run-off at the mouth," Smitty adds. "She doesn't need to pick up any crazy ideas she doesn't already have."

"Assist her in any way she asks, Nolan," Tim repeats, fixing Smitty with a silencing glare. "We have nothing to hide. If Ryan finds a procedure that needs fixing, we'll fix it." Tim's eyes sweep the room. "Now get out there, be careful, and stay alert. That's it. I'll relay further information and instructions as the situation develops."

Nolan hurries to the desk to ensure he has everything in order before needs to play tour guide. Professor Ryan asks the hard questions, and she'll be expecting straight answers.