Yesterday before the meeting with IAB.
New York was alive with protesters even more than before, all demanding that both Eames and Goren be held accountable. That is putting things nicely. They had other choice words for what they wanted. The city was up in flames as cars were pushed over and lit on fire. Looters and vandalism were wreaking havoc over the city that never slept. The protesters were wide awake demanding "NO Justice. No Peace! Signs in hands, "Stop Police Brutality BLM". Bacalvas covered their faces as they prepared to take on the police system before them. Another protester shouts, "Say his name! Jordan Tavyvon Brown " "what do we want?" "Justice." "When do we want it? Now."
"Those pigs are murders!" another shouted. Glass shards were everywhere. Graffiti covered walls and businesses, ACAB and FTP. Businesses were broken into and non protesters who sought to take advantage began stuffing the pockets, bags, and hands with as much stolen goods as possible. Parked police cars were surrounded while angry mobs began smashing the windows with bats and clubs. Others began rocking them, turning them over and jumping on top of them. Matches flew into broken vehicles and erupted in flames. New York appeared post-apocalyptic.
"What's to keep them from slinging molotov cocktails like they did in Minneapolis? We need to increase units outside to keep the crowd at bay. We need to show strength," the Chief of Police barked.
"Too much strength is what got us here in the first place," their captain offers.
"Well we can't let them destroy our city and put our cops at risk."
"Chief, I don't want our detectives at risk either but we need to find a way that does not ignite them further. It we are going to deescalate we can't show force with force." The Chef seems displeased with his answer but takes it and notes it. "And you" he focus his attention to Eames and Goren. "You two stay put. I mean it no leaving your houses until this blows over. You can have an escort home."
"With all do respect Captain, I don't think escorts are needed," Eames argued. She was not about to look weak and ripe for the picking. "Better we don't test that theory. I don't need my dectives leaving in body bags. No, there's too much of a target for the two of you." Both nod in agreement.
Behind them, a TV plays the news broadcast. "They are calling him the modern Emmett Till. 12 year old Jordan Tavyvon Brown lost his life at a protest for George Floyd in Times Square today. His parents spoke to us earlier today." "They assassinated my boy. There was no need for that force for a kid. 20 bullets. They fired 20 bullets into Jordan. They did not need to shoot a child. I have to put him in a closed casket so his family can say goodbye. I shouldn't have to bury my son not at 12 years old. They need have the same fate as my boy. NO JUSTICE NO PEACE!"
Eames face tightens and shakes downward." Goren places a hand on her shoulder as he shares the same pained look on his face. He was just a boy. "Still want to challenge me on escorts? They are calling for your deaths." The heaviness of the situation fell on all of them. "This is the hardest part of working the job but if you guys do everything we say, maybe we can mitigate it so that you leave this situation alive and back into the workforce. IAB has your gun Eames, Goren let me take yours as well to be safe. We need to be by the book on this one."