Summer in The County Ch. 03

"Like hell!" said the Senator. "Why can't Troy order them to?"

"If you'll stop interrupting me and let me finish, Senator," said Muscone, rising from his chair to stand up to the arrogant jackass Senator, "there's this clause in the Constitution that outlaws indentured servitude. Even if Commander Troy asked them to help us, they can refuse... and one of them flat-out has. He will not do work for the Federal Government under any circumstances, and he has that right."

"It's his duty to serve this country when we need it." said Russell. "You get him and Troy on this case, right now!"

"I don't know who you think you are, Senator," said Muscone, "but if Commander Troy heard what you just said... you'd be walking out of here with a crowbar shoved up your ass... literally. You ain't the boss of him nor his people, and---"

"Don't you talk that way to me, you fucking little pipsqueak." thundered Russell. "I'll have you busted down to traffic cop, if not outright fired---"

"Senator, this is getting us nowhere." said Dana Fox. "Jack, why don't you and your team take a break. I'll talk to the Senator about this."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Sometimes, Mr. Crowbarrrrr," sighed the Chief, "you exasperate the hell out of me. I know you mean well, but sometimes you say things that simply should not be said."

I was standing in front of the Chief's desk, having been called in, and knowing better than to sit down without being invited to... and so far I had not been invited to. I exercised my right to remain silent at this moment, as well.

The Chief looked up at me. "Commander, you have simply got to take a step back, and let some of this stuff cool down. I know I went too far in trying to keep you out of that situation on the Square, but I did that to keep you from being the lightning rod that escalates the tensions. And that includes within the Police Force as well as with the idiot politicians around here."

I said nothing, not really knowing what to say. I'm not sure how the Chief was taking it, though; my silence seemed to unnerve him more than speaking would have.

"All right, what are you going to do about this?"

"I'm going to have our Officers enforce the law, sir." I said. "More tightly than they have been, and without quotas or profiling." I paused and then added: "As to the details, it might be best if you have plausible deniability on it, Chief."

"No, it won't be. Spill it." he said. So I told him... well, some of it. "All right, Mr. Crowbar," he said when I was done, "that might get the point across. In the meantime, I'm also getting calls from the FBI in the City, wanting you and Myron Milton to drop everything and rush to help them with this 'Guardians of Justice' business."

"Chief... was it the FBI itself asking for Myron?" I asked. The Chief looked sideways at me.

"No." said the Chief. "Assistant Director Fox said that U.S. Senator Russell had specifically requested the Miltons' help. I told him that Mrs. Milton was transferring to Vice and was absolutely unavailable, and that Mr. Milton had declined previous requests to help, and I would not ask again."

The Chief had observed that my face had become jet. "What is it, Mr. Crowbar?"

"The Senator is pretty damn arrogant to even ask for Myron's help... especially after I've explicitly denied them Myron's help... at Myron's request. Myron does not want to help them, and he is not obligated to. Maybe they don't need my help anymore, either."

"Don't rush into a rash action, Commander." said the Chief. "Your being an FBI Consultant is a boon to you and to the TCPD as well as the FBI. Again... step back, take a breath, have patience..."

I did just that... took a breath and calmed down. "Yes sir. I'll give that more thought. But Myron Milton is not available to help U.S. Senator Russell in any way."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Okay," I said, "here is what we are going to do." I was meeting in Classroom 'J' with the two Precinct Captains and their Lieutenants, and Captain Croyle.

"Your Patrol Officers should not give out any tickets nor make any stops that will not hold up in Court." I said. "But tighten down. You see someone run a red light, go after them. Speeding, anything about the limit for that street, pull 'em over. Tighten the screws, but again... good stops that hold up in Court, no profiling, no quotas."

"And while the Council might want us to pick on the southside," I said, "I don't want you guys in 1st Precinct to get in trouble by falling behind on your revenue generation. So these County High rich kids that scratch off in their sports cars, have mufflers that don't work... well, I don't think County High teaches about the Justice System all that well, so we'll provide some hands-on education..."

Part 14 - Iron Rule

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, Friday, July 21st. "Channel Two News has learned that the Town & County Police Force is cracking down!"

Bettina started: "The Police Force will be increasing patrols, and they will be watching for speeders, with no tolerances given! Cameras at traffic intersections are being used, and tickets for running red lights will be issued!"

"In State news," said Bettina, "Senator Katherine Woodburn issued a statement saying Governor Val Jared's new SBI-SIS program is proving to be a total failure, as they have yet to be called upon by any local jurisdiction for assistance. Senator Woodburn says that a strong SBI, like the days under Director Jack Lewis, were more successful for law enforcement in the State. Meanwhile, Social Justice groups, led by Senator Maxine Watts, continue to call for the Governor to resign or be impeached, saying that the Governor is a racist, and is not mentally competent to serve as Governor."

"And in national news," Bettina said, "the FBI says they have no new leads on the shadowy group known as the 'Guardians of Justice'. U.S. Senator Samuel Russell is calling upon the FBI and Homeland Security to put more assets to work to catch whoever is leaking classified information, whom Senator Russell considers to be traitors."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Whatta week." said Cindy as we sat down at our patio table at the Cop Bar, armed with a pitcher of cold beer, a pitcher of Coca-Cola Zero, and plates of beef nachos and wings. It was 7:30pm.

"And the party's just getting started." said Teresa. "The crackdown is in full force tonight."

"Yep." I said. "Which is why I'm having Coca-Cola tonight. Gotta stay sober for this one."

"Myron came to me today." Cindy said. "The FBI called him again. I called Dana Fox and told him that if the FBI contacted Myron again without a warrant, the TCPD would file a restraining order and a harassment lawsuit on Myron's behalf. Fox actually pressed it, saying they needed to talk to Milton. I said he'd be hearing from our lawyers instead, and I hung up on him. I called Paulina, who called the City Attorney, who went and asked the Court for the restraining order. So much for my career as an FBI Consultant, huh?"

"I'm here to tell ya." I said agreeably, then added: "They started calling you when I stopped taking their phone calls. I should've gone the legal route, too. But I really thought they'd get the message and stop harassing us about it."

Teresa asked "Why do they want Myron so bad? I mean, he's good, really good, but it's not like the FBI doesn't have some great cyber-analysts and cyber-security people. And I'm sure the CIA has some great people, and private companies have people the FBI could hire. Why Myron?"

I sat there for what seemed a long time, then answered "I don't know. Well... I have ideas, but I shouldn't say."

"Nothing new there." Cindy said acerbically. "But we have the same idea... they want to co-opt Myron into helping them, so he's not helping us as much. And then one day try to take him away from us."

I said "I'm not sure about that. But I think they want to see his methods and his way of doing things, so they can counter whatever he does. He's way too good at getting into places they don't want him to be. But it doesn't matter. Myron won't help them under any circumstances."

*BUZZZ!* *BUZZZ!* *BUZZZ!*

It was my Police cellphone, buzzing a text to me. "Okay," I said, "it's beginning. I gotta run."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"They see me rollin',

They hatin',

Patrollin',

they tryin to catch me ridin' dirty."

--- Chamillionaire, 'Ridin'

Kelly Carnes was driving her expensive sports car north towards the Heritage Cloisters subdivision at a fast rate of speed, vaguely aware that a car had come up behind her. The sudden flashing of the blue and white lights were anything but vague.

"Shit." she muttered as the Police cruiser followed her for a couple hundred feet.

*WUP-WOOP!* *WUP-WOOP!*

Carnes realized it was her they fully intended to stop. They were getting impatient that she was not pulling over. Finally, she pulled over onto a side street.

The officer approached her window from behind, very wary. She did not roll her window down until he knocked on it.

"Good evening, ma'am." said the Officer. "I'm Sergeant Rudistan. May I see your license and registration, please?"

"Why?" snarled Carnes. "What have I done?"

"Ma'am, you were going 51 miles per hour in a 35-mph zone." said Rudistan. "Now may I see your license, please?"

Carnes handed over her license. "You do realize I'm a Town & County Councilwoman?"

"No ma'am," said Rudistan jovially, "I did not realize that. I'm not in your district. But you're obviously not going to a Council meeting. And of course, as a Council member, I'm sure you're aware of the speed limits, since you set them. Stay here one moment, please."

Moments later, Sergeant Rudistan returned. He handed her a ticket, explaining the nature of it, and pointing out the Court date for the hearing. Carnes was fuming mad.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*WUP-WOOP!*

"Ah, shit." said untrustworthy reporter John Hardwood as the Patrol cruiser's blue lights flashed into the back window of his expensive BMW.

The Officer came up to his window, and he rolled it down, ready to show his license. "What's wrong, Officer?" he asked.

"Sir, I'm Corporal Kirkpatrick." said the Officer, who was almost as tall and broad-shouldered as the Iron Crowbar. "I stopped you for going 41 miles per hour in a 35-mph zone..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*WUP-WOOP!*

"Uh oh." said Reginald B.F. Lewis as the Patrol cruiser's blue lights flashed into his back window.

"May I see your license and registration?" said Sr. Patrolman Hicks...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Are they fucking kidding me?" snarled T-Square from the back of his Escalade limo, seeing the blue lights pulling him over as he approached his club 'Rhythms & Rap'.

"We weren't speeding, sir." said the driver. T-Square's bodyguard was riding shotgun, and T-Mac was sitting to T-Square's left in the backseat.

Not one but three Police vehicles pulled up behind the Escalade. Four Officers got out and approached the limo, two on either side. T-Square knew that if the left-side rear window rolled down... it would escalate quickly. He told everyone to remain calm and still.

"I'm Sergeant DeLong. May I see your license and registration please?" said the black Sergeant, who had come up to the driver's side window. The driver handed him the documents.

"Why did you pull us over?" asked T-Square from the back.

"Thirty-six miles per hour in a thirty-five zone." said Sergeant DeLong.

"Are you kidding?" T-Square said softly---

*TAP!* *TAP!* *TAP!*

T-Square nearly jumped out of his skin as the crowbar tapped on the bulletproof glass of the right rear window. The glass was impervious to harm, but the iron made a sharp, loud noise... and it is not natural for iron to 'tap' glass like that. T-Square looked out to see the Iron Crowbar himself just behind the window, in a wary posture. He rolled down the window halfway.

"If it ain't the Iron Cracker." said T-Square. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Step on out of the car, T-Square." I said. "All of you."

"You do realize Big Ice got shot?" said T-Square.

"Get out." I said. T-Square and his entourage complied. I said to my Officers "Bring them all to this side so we don't have any drive-by shootings... or drive-by Media."

Once everyone was settled, with some of my Officers watching T-Square's men warily and others watching the traffic on the street very carefully, I said "I think we can give your driver a warning this time, T-Square. But if you're unhappy with this traffic stop, be sure to complain to your Town Councilman."

T-Square broke into a toothy grin, then began laughing. "Damn, I.C., you are one nasty Cracker!"

"Nasty is what I do." I said. "You have a nice, safe evening... and drive within the speed limit."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, July 25th. The executive session meeting of the Town & County Council convened after the open meeting. The Sheriff's Deputies had been well-armored, and there were only a few TCPD Officers augmenting them, but there were no incidents nor any rabble-rousers.

Once the heavy doors to the private Council Chamber closed, Kelly Carnes exploded like a bomb: "What the fuck is going on with the Police? They gave me a fucking ticket Friday night, and they're crawling all over the Heritage Cloisters, River Valley, and the north side! I've gotten 20 calls from people whose kids were pulled over and ticketed, and four of them arrested for suspicion of DUI!"

"I got a ticket too." said Thomas P. Cook.

Reginald B.F. Lewis began laughing derisively. "So did I. And I got a call from T-Square, who got pulled over, but was let off with a warning."

"What the hell is the Iron Crowbar doing?" shouted Carnes. "Is he trying to piss off the money people in this County? Does he not know what they can do to him?"

"No more than anyone else can, Ms. Carnes." said J.P. Goldman. "But that's entirely another subject and beside the point. You're the one that wanted the TCPD to crack down and generate revenue. The Iron Crowbar has applied that equally to all parts of the County... including the areas where the most money can be generated... the snotty rich kids and their sports cars."

Carnes stared at Goldman a moment, then said "We also said they should concentrate on the areas where the crimes are occurring... the South side."

"We didn't say that. The Council didn't say it, and I sure didn't." said Lewis. "So, Ms. Carnes, are you suggesting that the Iron Crowbar should've exclusively targeted Minority districts?" Kelly Carnes stared hatefully at Lewis, but knew she was trapped and unable to say more.

"He even stopped T-Square." chuckled Reginald B.F. Lewis. "That's a dangerous stop to make, especially after Jasmine Nix and Big Ice were assassinated."

"I heard the Iron Crowbar was actually there himself." said Edward R. Steele. "Precisely because it was a dangerous stop to make. But the message was sent, and clearly. You wanted the crackdown, Ms. Carnes. You've reaped what you've sown..."

Part 15 - Cancer, Canines, and Cats

Friday, July 28th. Teresa Croyle was listening to Dr. Napp's comments.

"Things look great, Teresa." Dr. Napp said. "Bloodwork looks good. We're seeing no signs of cancer anywhere. It was caught early, so it didn't have a chance to metastasize. You are otherwise extremely healthy, as I'd expect a triathlon winner to be. Congratulations on that, by the way."

"Thank you, Doctor." Teresa said. "And congratulations on the success of your developments, with me and others."

"Thank you." said Dr. Napp. "Dr. Fredricson and Dr. Cordell have been very supportive."

After saying goodbye to Dr. Napp, Teresa was walking down the hall through the Cancer Center, the wing of University Hospital dedicated to curing cancer. She saw a large playroom with several kids inside. One girl looked up and saw her.

"Hey everybody!" she said, "It's that Policewoman who saved that girl from Slender Man!" The other kids oohed, aahed, and shouted.

"How are y'all doing?" Teresa asked, stopping in the doorway.

"We're good." said one boy with a bald head, for whom 'good' meant a fighting chance to beat his leukemia. "Ma'am... do you work for the Iron Crowbar?"

Teresa smiled. "I sure do. He's a great man."

"Can we meet him?" asked the boy. "Can he come visit us?"

"Can he bring his dog Bowser?" asked the girl who'd first recognized Teresa.

"You know," Teresa said, "I think we can swing something like that..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Saturday, July 29th. Priya Ajmani and KSTD were getting a scoop as Teresa came into the playroom, where children and their parents were assembled.

"Okay, kids," Teresa said, "don't shout very loud, okay? Bowser gets skittish, so don't scare him, okay?" The kids promised.

And then Your Iron Crowbar came down the hall. But I was only the Police Officer escorting the redoubtable Bowser to meet the kids. Bowser had on his Police bandana and his badge. At the doorway, I set him down on the floor.

Bowser could be skittish, but he was a very astute dog, and he knew he was among friends... whose hearts were being done good by his visit. He walked up to Teresa, and sat down as the kids happily came up to him. He endured being petted by many young hands. Sometimes he went up to a child and 'made' that child pet him. The kids, whose daily lives were a constant battle against the virulence of cancer, had wonderful smiles of happiness on their faces.

I sat to the side and watched, and absorbed the parents' thanks. Many said this was the happiest they'd seen their children in a long time. I said I knew the kids were enduring tough battles, and Bowser was happy to help them win against cancer. I said as much to Priya in my short interview with her.

"Look!" shouted one girl. "It's the Death Cat!" We all looked over to a shelf where a television set had once sat upon, about six and a half feet off the ground. A handsome cat, in different shades of brown with beautiful tiger-like stripes, was sitting on his haunches, watching us. Bowser barked at the cat, who just looked back at Bowser with disdain and disinterest. Dogs have owners, Cats have staff, I thought to myself.

"That's the Death Cat." said one girl. "He comes to the room of someone who is about to die, and watches over them as their soul goes to heaven."

Nurse Jones, who was watching with me, said "That's true. Nobody knows how he gets into rooms or out of them, and we've never been able to catch him. But he goes to old people's rooms in the hospice wing when they pass on, and sometimes to kids here that are dying, and stays with them through their passing."

I slowly went up towards the Death Cat, who watched me as I slowly raised my pointed finger towards him in introduction---

*WHAP!*

The Death Cat had raised his paw and brought it down, slapping me on the back of my hand. His claws were not out; he was not intending to hurt me. But his message was clear, and I acknowledged it. I left him alone. I turned back to the party, as did everyone else. After some moments the Death Cat left, no one knowing for whom he'd appeared.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As we were leaving the party, I had Bowser with me. Teresa and Nurse Jones were talking. I happened to look inside one room, and Bowser began whimpering, wanting to go inside. So I took him into the room.

Little eight-year-old Otis was inside an oxygen tent, or flexible bubble. I could see his little bald head through the clear plastic. His battle with cancer was almost over, I realized... and he was losing. His parents were sitting by the bedside; his mother looked haggard and exhausted; his father, profoundly sad.