Tuesday, August 11, 2009

August Would Be Our Month....

After spending half the day writing reports from the first half of the week, we finally mounted our bikes and hit the road. This time, for reasons unknown, we headed north out of the gates instead of south.

We heard the normal radio traffic but gave little heed to the monotonous chatter for we were focused on finding something good.

I vaguely remember hearing the common “Noise Disturbance” call, but as the officer was called to the address it stood out in my mind; 500 N 4 St. I know the lowly scum who live in the run down duplex at this location. To call them “non-police friendly” would be a huge understatement.

We were already meandering that direction when the officer, who rarely makes such a request, called for a “907” (9 oh 7, officer needs assistance).

I started peddling faster and flew down Riley, toward 4th St, and arrived on scene in time to see the scum arguing with the officer.

The call was valid, with a radio blasting in the background, and the officer was doing his job as he asked the owner for his ID.

Leaving out some expletives, the owner, while throwing a garden hose to the ground and balling his fists, said he would get his ID from his car. The owner started purposefully marching toward his SUV to open the door. The officer told him several times to “NOT OPEN THE DOOR!” (We don’t know where the scum keep their guns, knifes, or other fighting paraphernalia).

The car owner refused to listen and reached for the door handle.

With a swift reaction the officer held the door closed as I simultaneously drew my Taser and Freeman drew his gun (for lethal coverage).

The red dot from my laser was in the middle of the shirtless man’s back and my finger was inching forward to find the trigger.

The Mr. Scum stepped back from the door and told us we were violating his “@!##@& rights.” He balled up his fists, widened his stance, and gave the officer the mile long stare.

My finger found the trigger as my Sergeant came on scene and told the guy to calm down.

A twitch or a hard batting of the eye would have brought my index finger a half inch back to release the light.

The suspect did neither.

His fists became hands and his stance softened. He followed instructions and sat down.
The suspect’s information was gathered and a large crowd of incoming officers and nosey onlookers circled the area.

Mr. Scum was dealt with as I stood back and watched the incoming onlookers.

As I watched, I saw a tall familiar looking man walk up on scene. I politely asked if there was anything he needed. The awkwardly tall and goofy looking subject said he just wanted to know what was going on. As I spoke to Mr. Tall, Freeman promptly reminded me that this subject had a felony arrest warrant from one of our previous crack cocaine arrests.

The new suspect was told to sit down as we called in the warrant. As the validity of the warrant was confirmed, Mr. Tall was hauled off to jail.

As quickly as we possibly could, we mounted our bikes and continued our search for those needing to be talked to.

We were less than a block away as we strolled through Sonic Park (conveniently named after the Sonic Drive In located directly behind it). We saw some movement on the playground set and due to the lack of parents in the area, we assumed it was a young adult either writing graffiti or using drugs.

We shined our lights on the platform and saw the scattered flakes of marijuana resting next to a magazine. As we arrested the 19 year old for marijuana we learned of his outstanding warrant. Mr. Weed was hauled off to jail.

As quickly as we possibly could, we mounted our bikes and continued our search for those needing to be talked to.

We rode south.

We had just finished talking about the rare occasion of rolling up on a suspect burglarizing or stealing a car when suddenly a Gold colored truck come to a screeching halt in the middle of the intersection.

A male subject jumped out of the car and frantically waved his arms in the air and said, “They just broke into my car and stole my radio!” The new victim pointed to a house around the corner and said, “They ran in there!”

We called for a few units as we cautiously approached the side gate to the home where we saw and heard movement in the back yard.

Without warning the side gate opened.

When the subjects saw the police they scattered like cockroaches in a newly lit room. We pulled them out of the yard one at time until we had four drunken teenagers sitting on the curb. I stepped over toppled beer cans as I made my way over to the owner of the home. She was more worried about the commotion than her 17 year old son drinking with his teenage friends in the backyard.

The owner was told of the alleged burglary and reluctantly provided consent to search the yard for evidence.

It was hardly a search as Freeman found the car stereo and amplifier on the side of the house.

Though the victim could not positively identify the suspect, Freeman got the suspect to admit what he did. The 19 year old suspect later admitted to taking to radio to help pay for his newly born child.

Mr. Baby’s Daddy was hauled off to jail.

Our night was cut short because we had to finish the paperwork in order for Mr. Baby’s Daddy to be booked in jail.

Our smiles bordered on cocky as Freeman and I agreed that August would be our month….


Angela said...

Busy day! I hope you have many more just like it!

Rachel said...

No wonder people love the bike squad!

Lyenna said...

Seriously, if you have a warrant for your arrest, why are you standing around cops? Especially when you and Freeman are the cops. Sometimes they never learn.

pzierse said...

Wow, you two are really good. I bet your time flys by. I am greatful you are both safe. I am afraid that the violence is going to get worse. Take care my son. love ya

Missy said...

I think there's a part of all of us that wants to be out on the street fighting crime. I think that's why we all love reading about it so much. S-fun. :)

Kimberly said...

Too bad that little baby has such a loser for a Daddy. Great story...stay safe!