Publisher’s Note: In the near future, weapons confiscation laws are going to get worse as the blow-back against police misbehavior, over-reach and perennial escalation start to force reactions that the maximum state has not anticipated. This is part of a chapter drawn from the novel that I am currently writing, The Cancer Club.
Per my previous posting, I had mentioned the fictional account creates a sharper narrative to draw some of the lessons out that would otherwise be lost in a dry supposition of what the future may hold. This is one of two fictional accounts I’ve created, this first one personalizes a singular event while the second one will speculate on what a complex attack against police forces in the US may look like in the not too distant future in which the casualties and death toll are much higher.
These are works of fiction and any resemblance to persons alive or dead is a mere coincidence but any similitude to a close future when the government assumes it can maim and murder at will may be a keener harbinger than any one should be comfortable with.
I have mentioned in the past that the US government has done itself no favors with the global wars it has waged that has trained thousands of young men in the myriad miseries of warfare, especially urban fighting. I offer this as a small taste of things to come as the police discover that Newton’s Third Law applies in their sphere too.
Consider this a cautionary tale of the undiscovered country in front of all of us.
In other news, I will be completing the last half of our four-part series on Irregular Warfare (Part I and Part II) with the estimable Prof CJ at the Dangerous History Podcast this weekend. I promise a proper intellectual thrashing of the ever-fashionable COIN-dinistas who have wrought destruction and mayhem globally. -BB
Ed “Chilly” Hernandez had been on the Tucson PD force for eleven years and four years on SWAT. After a National Guard deployment to Afghanistan in 2010, he had been selected to be on SWAT and then commanded a team. He was heavyset but fit and had craggy features that had seen lots of sun in the Arizona desert.
He stood in the ISO room and looked around at the five men gathered around the table. Manning had been stretched thin with the increasing frequency of “high risk” warrant service.
“John Decker is the subject of tonight’s dynamic entry. Per the directive that just came down, we are hitting a number of violators who have been flagged on the DHS list for weapons offenders. He appears to have four unauthorized rifles and two pistols that we are charged with confiscating. He is a military veteran and possesses a CCW for the state of Arizona so we have to consider him armed and dangerous.” He continued. “When we stack, we’ll roll in a four-man stack and Ron and Chico will cover overwatch in the rear.”
He turned to the two men he just mentioned. “Ron, need you on the rear of the house in overwatch with Chico. I need a green light from you once in position. We will be rolling at 0200 and I hope to breach no later than 0245. Questions?”
Chico: “Yeah, what did this old guy do wrong or are we just confiscating his guns?”
Ed sneered at Chico. “Shit-can the NRA bullshit, Chico and do what you’re told. We don’t make the laws, we bust the heads to enforce them. Alright, lads, time hack on my mark.” He stared at his watch and hesitated. “Now, 2335. Okay, lots of preps before we roll. Questions?”
He entertained a few questions and they scattered.
The men left the team room and scattered to their bays to prepare for the operation. Chico hung back.
“Hey boss, I think this is really fucked up. I read through the warrant and it is fucking boilerplate. How many of these have been issued, seems like a mimeograph order.”
“Chico, let me know when you want me to kick your ass off the team because of your silly notions. Otherwise, get to it.”
Chico frowned and stepped out to get his gear prepped and the vehicles ready. They were rolling in a department MRAP and he had a checklist as long as his arm to get it ready to move.
He moved to the back area where the MRAP was parked and put the lights on in the vehicle park. They silhouetted the hulking vehicle. 14 tons of mine resistant armored hardware, the department complained about the fuel mileage but wait until they got the bill for annual maintenance. He lowered the powered rear ramp and stepped inside to PCI the vehicle and get it ready to roll. Despite its size, the interior was cramped and not comfortable by any standard. Chico set to work.
John slept fitfully in the chair, woke up and rolled over to the couch. His watch read 0217. As he laid down, he rolled on his right side and winced as the holstered Glock made the change rather uncomfortable. He leaned into the couch and closed his eyes.
He drifted off again.
All the men on the SWAT team gathered around the vehicles, the MRAP and a chase van. “Alright, men, secure your gear and let’s mount up. Everyone should be clear on the snatch and grab.” Some of the men rolled their eyes at the insipid use of military argot for the night’s crime mission. Ed had always been a hard-ass who liked his job a bit too much. The men grumbled as they struggled aboard the transports and radioed in their departure. The advance patrol unit was already near the apartment complex to recce and make sure all preparations were complete.
The trucks rolled out in one smooth convoy out of the TPD Operations Complex underground parking and continued for the short journey to Decker’s house.
Decker’s eyes flashed open when he heard the neighbor’s dogs go nuts, he didn’t live in the best area but he paid attention to canine alerts. He usually didn’t hear from the bedroom but the living room was much closer to the small yard next door. His hearing just wasn’t what it used to be. He was a terrible housekeeper and did not realize that the pile of clothes in a basket next to the door would save his life in the next few minutes and change it forever.
He heard the dog yelp next door and go silent.
Ron cleaned the knife off on the dog’s coat after he slit its throat. He squelched his mike twice for the all clear. He hated dogs and took pleasure in killing the mongrels. He had left a trail of their bodies scattered around Tucson. He smiled as he slipped the knife into the sheath and Chico frowned at him.
Chico whispered: “That’s fucked up, man, stop smiling like the Cheshire cat. You just creep me the fuck out, psycho.” He grimaced and turned to the apartment in front of them.
Ron gave him the finger and settled into a low prone at the back of the apartment complex. He and Chico were the rear security team so he pressed his cheek into the stock of the surplus M24 the department had gotten from the DoD. Chico sidled next to him and dropped his NODs in place. Ron wasn’t wearing NODs relying on the night vision on the gun platform, another gift from the Pentagon through the 1033 program to TPD.
He spoke into his mike: “All clear, chief.”