four corners pd
By: Cin and Heidi
day one: Thursday (cont)
Part Three
As Wilmington left the complex, he took JD to the other apartment complexes near
the East/South borders, wanting to give the rookie a tour of the seedier side of
town. He drove through Yucca twice, letting Dunne see the lower rent
complex and experience first hand the occasional hostile glares the less
respectable citizens gave
them. All the buildings were decorated with one form of graffiti or
another and trash lined the curbs. Music blasted from vehicles and
apartments with equal intensity. The balconies were draped with laundry
and people as they shouted to their neighbors and friends, or expressed their
opinion of the passing cruiser.
The sight bothered JD; he wondered how people lived like this every day.
He was from a larger town yet never experienced the seedier side, he didn't
think it would exist here. "Why's this place so run down? Paint
would do wonders."
"It would, but then somebody would just mess it up. Don't get me wrong;
there's some good people here who can't afford something nicer, but there's
plenty of bad people here, too. Our job's helping all of them."
"This place is depressing," JD muttered. Aware it was one reason he
avoided such places before.
"I know, Kid, I know, but we do what we can for who we can. Quiz
time: who's 11-03?"
"Uh…" JD reached for his sheet.
"No peeking," Buck yanked the sheet out of reach. "Guess."
"OFC Sanchez?"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he's been here the longest. Weren't he and OFC Jackson among the
first officers hired?"
"You're right, good instincts."
"Why hasn't he been promoted? I mean, Cop of the Year so many times and
he's still only an OFC."
"Nosy little thing, aren't you?"
"Just curious, that's all. Never mind." The young man returned to
watching the passing scenery.
Buck took pity on him; he knew the kid had lots of questions about everything.
"I'll answer that another day. Who's 11-04?"
"OFC Jackson."
"Explain the identifier."
"Huh?"
One hand whapped the steering wheel. "Didn't they teach you anything at
the Academy?"
"Yes, sir."
"But not identifiers. Okay, patrol is one, the first number. Other
units or sections like CID use different first numbers. The second number
means Squad One. The next two are your specific number in that Squad.
Got it?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Who's our Chief?"
"Chief of Police Orin Travis. He was a judge for twenty five years before
taking this position."
JD remembered meeting Chief Travis in the academy. A tall, distinguished
man nearing sixty, he was still fit, with a barrel chest and dark hair framed by
gray around his temples. His only concession to his age was the reading
glasses he occasionally wore when reviewing the prolific amount of paperwork
generated by the department. Compared to the number of trees killed in the
legal profession, these were a snap. The man aged with the gracefulness of
a fine wine, getting better and more celebrated as time passed. In his
commanding presence, JD could easily see why the man had such an illustrious
career as a judge; he certainly made an imposing impression on the police
cadets.
It was the tragic loss of his son that made Judge Travis decide to give up his
judicial career and take the Chief's position to start the Four Corners Police
Department. In the few short years of the department's existence, there
was a marked improvement in the standard of living and feeling of safety for the
citizens. JD sadly thought that it was a shame that it often took a
tragedy for people to see the need for change.
Another thought crossed his mind. "Question for you."
"Shoot."
Why are you 11-02 and Cpl. Caswell 11-08? Shouldn't her number be lower
than me?"
"Yes, but with her upcoming transfer, she's requested to be kept at the bottom
of the list so that when she's gone it won't change anyone else." Buck did
not mention the transfer's seven-month delay.
"Oh." He remembered hearing something about her going to CID, Criminal
Investigation Division, during roll call.
"Who's 11-05?"
JD shook himself out of his musings and thought for a minute. "I don't
know."
"You shouldn't; that's Vin. OFC Tanner."
JD told himself that was one of those trick questions. "He's the one
that's undercover narcotics, right?"
Buck's face lined with worry. "Yeah, kid." The radio crackled,
saving Buck from saying anything more about the missing man. It also
distracted him from those pesky thought that tried nagging him earlier.
"FC, 11-03, 11-04, copy business alarm."
"11-03."
"11-04."
"Northern Corners Convenience Mart, 1983 Cactus Highway, 1-9-8-3 Cactus Highway,
cross streets of Tumbleweed and Spur. Front glass break."
"10-4." Nathan's voice remained calm.
"10-4." Josiah answered with the sound of the car's acceleration in the
background.
A few minutes later, Buck reached the East/South border, finding Ezra parked at
an elementary school letting Ace run a bit. They stopped and Buck called
out to the canine officer as they climbed from the vehicle, "Hey, Ezra.
Can we play for a while?"
"Corporal Wilmington, I would be delighted in showing young Officer Dunne a
canine demonstration."
"Now, Ez, we don't need to go that far," Wilmington paled, waving his hands back
and forth in a classic `no' gesture.
JD found himself curious about his training officer's change of heart but was
still fascinated with the dog's abilities, "I'd like to see it."
"In that case, young sir, give me a moment." Ezra reached into the back of
the truck and pulled out a bite sleeve for the wavering, disgruntled corporal
and tossed it to him. Ace perked his ears and barked once at the sight of
the sleeve. A low, long growl came from the bottom of his throat before he
started panting and his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth.
"You're all heart, Ezra," grumbled Buck, pulling the sleeve over his uniform.
If he didn't know better, it looked liked Ace was grinning at him with
anticipation. Hmm…the dog probably was, knowing the tone of their
relationship.
"K9-16, FC. Show me out at Marigold Elementary with a canine demonstration
for 11-07."
"10-4, K9-16."
Once the dark haired man signaled he was ready, Ezra's grin turned devilish.
He walked Ace expertly through their routine, one they often performed at
elementary and middle schools as part of the Public Education program.
Suddenly, he shouted, "Threch!" The docile black lab changed into a demon
beast latching onto Buck's arm and not letting go until Buck loudly and
profanely surrendered. The corporal ended up face-first prone on the
ground, Ace nipping him every time he so much as twitched. With a wicked
grin, Ezra called him off after a prolonged few seconds. JD was surprised
at the viciousness of the attack from the friendly dog he met earlier.
"Hell, Ezra, why am I always the dang fool sucker?" Buck yanked the now
ripped sleeve off and tossed it at the southerner's face. He knew Ezra let
Ace chew on him a couple of extra seconds and started thinking of paybacks.
The reply came immediately from the quick-witted southerner. "Your
commitment and dedication as a training officer?" Fast reflexes let the
canine handler duck the throw and grab the sleeve before it struck the ground.
Buck made a face at Ezra's smirking one. "Ha ha." Absently he
massaged his arm where it throbbed. Hell, that was the whole arm because
Ace actually ripped the sleeve this time.
"What language is that, sir?" JD's curiosity over the strange dialect got
the better of him.
"Czech," the handler replied simply as he rewarded Ace's behavior with a little
one-on-one attention. Pleased with himself, Ace rolled on his back for
tummy scratching and received it. The lab liked the Buck chew toy because
that human never stayed still when surrendering giving him a few extra bites.
JD was impressed, "Isn't that hard to learn?" It also amazed him how well
the lab calmed – Ace went from raging teeth to overgrown puppy wanting love and
attention. He shook off his musing as Buck answered his question.
"No way, Kid," Buck crowed, "Ole Ez here is a linguist . . .how many languages
do you speak, pard. . .four, five?"
Standish eyed the rogue warily as he continued to care for his partner, pouring
him some water into his travel dish from a cold jug kept in the back of the
truck. "Unlike my esteemed colleagues, Mr. Dunne, I was the beneficiary of
a gentleman's education and can speak five languages quite proficiently."
"See," Buck gleefully slapped the suitably impressed rookie on the back, "He's a
certifiable language genius. Well, certifiable, anyway."
"Yes," Ezra continued to drawl, "I have been privileged while some have a
difficult time accomplishing the rudimentary elements of one language." He
finished with a grin aimed at the mustached man.
"What is this," Wilmington sputtered. "Pick on Buck day?" His arm ached
miserably and he knew today was his turn to get abused. Everyone got a
turn; today was his. He just wished he was there the day they decided so
that he could have called out sick.
JD caught the wink Standish threw at him and smiled, "Thanks, sir, for the
demonstration."
Ezra blinked, still not believing the polite young man before him. "As
much as I find your politeness refreshing, you may call me Ezra."
The rookie grinned at the small gesture of acceptance from the man, "Thanks,
Ezra."
"No charge for this demonstration, young Mr. Dunne, but next time, I will expect
your assistance with the next exercise," he warned the young rookie as he
replaced his equipment in his truck reaching for his lapel mike when he
finished. "K9-16's 10-8."
"10-4, K9-16."
The canine officer's use of Mister and last names intrigued the newest squad
member. Maybe Ezra was one of those people who would only address you by
your first name when given permission to do so. So he thought he would
offer first before things got uncomfortable. "You can call me JD you know,
Ezra."
Ezra paused before answering the young man, not wanting to go into the reasons
behind his use of formal address, "Yes, well, Mr. Dunne, some habits are
harder to break."
Knowing part of Ezra's story, the corporal changed the subject to stop the
inevitable questions. Buck chuckled and smacked JD in the chest, grabbing
one arm. "Hey Ace, this arm looks might tasty." The lab considered
carefully before jumping into his truck and sticking his head (and tongue) out
the open window at them. The truck sported a similar paint and striping
design to the patrol vehicles with the exception of larger reflective strips all
over the truck screaming "K9 UNIT – KEEP CLEAR". On the second set of
doors, black pads coated the outside so Ace could leap out or hang out the
windows if needed without slipping or scratching the paint. Tint covered
all the glass with the exception of the windshield, protecting the canine
inside. The small side window on the driver's side, second door, sported a
white playing card decal bearing the Ace of Spades with the word "ACE" in
matching blue cursive script over it.
"11-01, K9-16."
"K9-16."
"Crowd's growing in Post 11." Translation: get your lazy carcass
down here before things get ugly.
"10-4. FC, show me responding for Post 11." Post 11 was the bars and
restaurants of South closest to the East Border. Post 12 was the other
side of South that bordered West.
"11-07, FC."
"11-07."
"Show us 10-8."
"10-4, 11-07."
"11-03, FC."
"11-03. Building's secure, mark it Code Adam Frank. Code Edward with
11-04."
"10-4."
"Code Edward?" asked JD. He did not remember that from the codes the
Academy drilled in his head. He knew Adam Frank on an alarm meant Alarm
Faulty.
"Eating," Buck supplied. "Josiah and Nathan are eating their dinner,
probably at the hospital so Nathan can see Rain."
"Who's Rain?"
Ezra supplied the answer to this one. "Officer Jackson's charming paramour
and overworked resident at Four Corners Hospital."
"Isn't it early in the shift for dinner?"
Buck heaved a huge sigh, resigning himself to weeks of answering the kid's
curious questions. "Rain gets one break a night if she's lucky. She'll
call Nathan and tell him when and he'll meet her there."
Ezra placed a hand over his heart and sighed. "The things we do for
amour."
JD could not tell if Ezra was serious or kidding from the expressionless visage
he presented. Shrugging, he followed the corporal back to their unit and
returned to regular patrol. This time Wilmington set out to give JD a tour
of the Industrial Park talked about in roll call. Buck stopped to chat with
several drivers who were leaving their rigs for the night. And in
discussing the use of names and ranks reminded JD to call him Buck only in
private or in front of other officers.
Part Four
Josiah and Nathan backed their patrol units into side-by-side parking spaces in
the lot of the Four Corners Hospital closest to the side entrance. Locking
their doors, they entered the hospital to meet with Nathan's significant other
Rain for dinner. She joined them in the darkened hallway near the
cafeteria, stealing a too brief kiss with Nathan away from prying eyes.
Josiah smiled as he played lookout because he liked Rain. Her refreshing
view of the world kept him on his toes and he thought her cute and a great match
for his friend.
Her curly black shoulder length hair hung in a loose bun at the nape of her neck
just above the light peach T-shirt she wore beneath her darker peach scrubs.
Her stethoscope stuck out from the pocket of her white jacket and when Nathan
released her, her face reflected her happiness at seeing them.
"Hello Nathan, Josiah." Her smile brightened the darkened corridor and
dreary, institutional surroundings.
"Miss Rain, you are looking as lovely as ever," Josiah winked as he took her
hand and kissed it, a broad smile on his features.
She slapped his arm playfully and allowed them to escort her through the food
line, one officer on either side, as Nathan handed her a tray. She loaded
it down with fruits, vegetables, and a salad, causing him to chuckle as he did
the same. Both enjoyed healthy foods and ate them whenever possible.
Josiah went for the fifth major food group, grease, selecting a couple of slices
of pizza, a bag of potato chips, and a large orange juice.
"Josiah, you are going to give yourself indigestion, now," Nathan complained as
he paid for his and Rain's dinner. He appointed himself watchdog for his
friends' well being and Josiah often received the majority of the paramedic's
well-meaning advice and disapproving looks.
"But I'll enjoy it," the larger man countered with a smile. Long used to
it, the words bounced off. He noted the concern and appreciated the
sentiment behind it but wanted his own choices tonight.
"Leave him be; I'm just glad to see him," said Rain, knowing Nathan usually
monitored everything Josiah ate while they were together and every once in
awhile Josiah got annoyed. She wanted a peaceful dinner tonight.
"Why thank you, Miss Rain." He waited for Nathan to hold the chair out for
her before seating himself at the end of the table. "It's always a
pleasure to see you. Hard day today?"
Rain shrugged as she looked up from Nathan's left side, seated between the two
officers. "The life of an resident; constant work, few breaks."
She started on her salad, her healthy appetite showing as she devoured it.
She ignored the curious to rude stares at her from the other occupants of the
cafeteria because she sat with two police officers. The trio ate in the
corner with views of both doors and their backs to the wall. Rain accepted
this as part and parcel of them being police officers; constant awareness of
one's surroundings and preparedness for anything could keep them alive.
"But it will all be worth it when we call you Doctor Rain," Nathan told her with
an affectionate smile. He wished he could hug her or hold her hand but
refrained. Ever careful of public appearance, the paramedic turned police
officer did nothing that anyone watching could consider improper behavior.
His long road to becoming a public
servant started years before in the Deep South, finding himself unwanted due to
barely concealed prejudice or told "the quota of blacks was filled; apply
elsewhere".
Disgusted, he found work in another city as a paid paramedic, using his
ambition, drive and skills to help people in productive, constructive ways.
He saw a job posting for police officers (no experience necessary) for this new
department and applied, happily finding his application wanted and a job offer
almost immediately forthcoming. It meant relocating out west but a
fresh start. He took it without hesitation.
"Dr. Rain Jackson has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" She enjoyed
watching Nathan nearly spit out his food as he covered his mouth with his napkin
and coughed. His eyes widened in surprised shock; they rarely discussed
marriage, especially not in such a public setting.
Josiah's deep chuckle rolled across the table. "It surely does. Now,
when will this significant event happen?" He arched an eyebrow at his
partner's continued discomfort and ignored Nathan's `I'll get you later' glare.
"In a year for the full fledged doctor. As for the Jackson, hopefully not
too long after that," she said, nudging Nathan gently in the ribs. He
grunted as Josiah laughed again. Her playful grin faded as she continued,
"I only wish my father could have seen this."
"Your father was a heck of a man," Nathan agreed, remembering the older man with
fondness. He met her father Eban on their first date when Nathan picked
her up at their house. The couple originally met during the first call he
handled at Four Corners Hospital. The case involved a child abuse victim
and Rain was working. She helped the police officer keep the child calm
and emotionally together until Social Services could place him with a loving,
caring relative.
Nathan found himself drawn to the very self-confidant young woman from the
start. He hesitantly, while tripping over his words and shuffling from
foot to foot, asked her to dinner and she immediately accepted. Dating
steadily since then, their friends considered them an old married couple but
they had yet to formalize their
commitment. Everyone was sure that it would only be a matter of time.
Her father gave his blessing but passed away the year before from a sudden heart
attack.
"Yes, he was," Rain agreed. The attention focused on her caused her to
scowl, the attention came not from the two men she considered friends but from
other sources. Her eyes swept the room with a commanding look, making the
other diners turn away from her and quit glancing their way. "I do not
understand why they persist in
staring. The police department has been active here for three years and
still people gawk."
The older man and his friend exchanged fleeting looks. The deep rumbling
voice lowered for just their hearing, "We know, but people dislike change, even
when it is in their best interest."
"The Sheriff took kickbacks. He let the criminals run this town and looked
the other way while we had everything of value stripped from us!" Her eyes
flashed at the injustice. "The few that stood up to him, especially his
own deputies, suffered personally and professionally for it. It is said
some people even lost their lives
because of him!"
"Rain, lower your voice," Nathan warned, one hand waving. "Nothing was
ever proven about any of that."
"I do not care, Nathan. The Four Corners Police Department has done more
for the citizens here than anyone else ever did. We are protected now,
even those who would not admit we had problems to save their own lives."
Her eyes glowed with determination to prove her point.
"You're preaching to the choir, Sister Rain," Josiah told her. "We're glad
to be here but change frightens people." His look invited her to calm down
and Nathan's nervousness forced her to settle a small bit.
She knew Nathan hated public scenes and for that reason alone she took a deep
breath. "You are right, Josiah. Again, I accept your wisdom.
It just frustrates me that things have improved – they are not perfect, I know,
and never will be – but they are much better than before yet people complain.
Even the Clarion News reports a
decrease in the crime rate. Mary constantly trumpets the good you people
do for us in her editorials. Your squad is the most responsible for the
improvement. The rest of the citizens should show their appreciation."
She referred to Mary Travis, the daughter-in-law of Chief Orin Travis and editor
of the Clarion News. The blond haired spitfire tackled the problems within
Four Corners and her personal life head on without letting up, even including
her newly budding romance with Chris Larabee. It amused the resident to
watch the fireworks between them at the weekly group gatherings.
One man seated near them made the mistake of catching her eye at the end of her
diatribe. "Do you not agree that things have improved?" The man
looked away and would not answer.
"Rain, settle down now," soothed Nathan. "We appreciate your support but
everyone's going to have to accept us on their own. We can't be shoved
down people's throats. The Sheriff's Office ran things for over one
hundred years; a change like this takes time to accept."
Josiah cleared his throat. "It's too bad the new law didn't follow the way of
their brothers when this town first started."
Nathan shook his and chuckled. "I don't think anyone could live up to
those heroes of yours, Josiah." He turned concerned back to Rain.
"You do need to calm down sweetheart, we are working on it, it'll get better."
Once again, she sighed in resignation. "Again, you are right. I'm
too forward thinking and I know I'm too impatient."
"I like the way you think, Miss Rain. Gives us a fresh perspective,"
Josiah told her, finishing off his potato chips.
She finally smiled. "Let me give you something else for eating all that
junk-food - advice. You have to exercise and change your eating habits.
I don't want you as a patient."
"As lovely as you are, I don't want to be a patient," Josiah told her.
"I'm sure I'll work it off later; we're expecting some frat parties and Nina's
South tonight with Ezra and Chris." Usually Chris and Ezra roamed all over
but the upcoming Greek Week Olympics called for heavier concentration in the bar
sector.
"Oh, Lord!" she rolled her eyes. "I better get prepared for mass trauma,"
she continued muttering, daintily chewing a section of orange.
Nathan and Josiah chuckled. "They're not that bad, Rain."
"No?" She looked at them in astonishment, "All they need is Buck for the
catalyst to make things worse." The way Buck and Nina provoked and played
off each other usually fueled the fires leading to some type of explosion
catching everyone in the action. Add Chris, who resembled a stick of
dynamite with a short fuse, and Ezra, who played the part of the match, and
mayhem ensued.
The two police officers chuckled softly then dropped the last bomb on the woman.
"Buck's training tonight," the dark man told her.
Rain looked at the heavens. "God protect the innocent and fools.
Both ride in that car tonight." Her intelligent mind quickly created a
list for what to check in the ER when dinner finished; she instinctively knew
that the hospital would receive patients later that night.
"Amen, sister." Josiah laughed in agreement and secretly hoped he would
not be a patient tonight, or any of his friends.
Part Five
Chris drove by Olympus with a grimace, noticing the ever-increasing number of
people in the roaming crowds and the surrounding bars filling quickly with
college students and twenty-somethings alike. He spotted a familiar souped
up 1966 black Mustang Convertible muscle car among the throng cruising the
streets. It was hard to miss as the sides were decorated with red and
orange flames outlined and shadowed for depth in bright yellow flowing from the
front to midpoint down the side of the car. The black tinted windows hid
the occupants inside while the music blared from the modified stereo. He
almost started for it before turning away, bitterly reminding himself at the
last moment not to make contact yet. Ezra's truck crested the hill
and Chris grabbed his radio, switching it to talk-around where Communications
would not hear it. "About time."
Ezra flicked an annoyed glance at his Sergeant as he pulled alongside.
"Ace required exercise." He also spotted the Mustang and realized the
reason for his sergeant's current ire.
"A demo too?" The tone conveyed the normal complaining Chris usually did
with a tinge of worry.
The southerner thought of a suitable response that might elicit a smile from the
grumpy Larabee. With a mischievous grin, the tip Ezra's tongue appeared
through his teeth as he chuckled lightly, "Mr. Dunne requested a showing of
Ace's capabilities. Mr. Wilmington volunteered."
Chris actually managed a half-smile. "And you just happened to convince
him." He personally knew the power/pain in the bite of Ace and guessed
Buck's arm would throb the rest of the night even if the skin remained intact.
Ezra made sure each of them `volunteered' at least once to know what to expect
during an attack or public demonstrations. Or it was his damn sarcastic
nature to inflict this torture on his friends all in the names of training and
community relations.
"All for the education of our newest boy in blue." He smirked.
As Larabee returned his attention to the growing unrest at the bar, he put all
kidding aside, "Get down to the campus then double back. I'll stay around
here until Nina clears." Chris had that feeling that chaos brewed and
would erupt soon enough; he only hoped they were as prepared as possible for it.
"As you command, Sergeant, so it will be," drawled the green-eyed handler.
Ace barked his agreement, his head leaning around his partner and his tail
hitting Ezra in the back of his hair. One hand smoothed the hair and Ace
moved back into his section. They split off, Ezra continuing on to the
university outskirts and making his
presence felt. The intoxicated college students waved to him and called
him by his street name as he passed by. Ezra waved back with a
forced smile each time. He heard Nina clear and swung back around, passing
Larabee at the halfway point again.
His radio crackled. "Standish, stay close to the bars. I'll swing
through Outer South; figure it's gonna bust loose soon." Chris figured one
last swing through that remote area would reassure the citizens that complained
the South cars only stayed near the bars. Then he would probably try to
hit it again every hour until the
inevitable happened.
"We're ready," Ezra replied simply. A few minutes later Nina rolled past
and waved. The southerner stopped in a parking lot and she pulled in
beside him. He smiled down at her from his higher height in the truck.
Ezra then lowered the back window so Ace could hang out and reach down for some
attention from his favorite human female.
"Olympus looks ugly," Nina commented, returning his smile.
The anticipation in that smile made him nervous; some days he wondered if she
was one of those people who lived for the adrenaline rush or just enjoyed
excitement in her life. He formulated a response but was cut off by
a familiar squawk in his ear.
"FC, K9-16. Copy assist."
Ezra frowned at the radio.
"Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to campus you go," Nina sang badly off key, either on
purpose or just because.
"Woof! Woof!" came from the back seat.
"K9-16," he answered with a smirk and narrowed eyes. Whistling took over.
At least she could whistle, he thought to himself.
"Report to Four Corners University for a drug scan, Starke Hall, make contact
with campus police."
"Hi-ho, hi-ho, hi-ho."
Howling started.
Ezra answered simultaneously, "10-4." He twisted away so Nina's loud and
obnoxious massacre of a children's song and Ace's howling accompaniment would
not come through the radio. The southerner wanted to hide his laughter so
he could act `properly annoyed' at her.
Casey heard Nina and grinned. "11-08, Ocean King?" Ocean King meant
`OK'. She could not resist tormenting the corporal a little.
"10-4, FC. Show me business check…" - Nina looked around quickly - "Close
Encounters." The name for the strip bar that featured both males and
females entertained her once she realized where Ezra led her to park. Her
narrowed laughing gaze only amused the southerner more.
With a two-fingered salute on his hat, Ezra pulled away chuckling as he heard
Larabee's voice crackle over the talk-around. "Looking for a date, Nina?"
"Don't tempt me," she sniped back, fully aware of how bad it sounded.
Her car left the lot and she started roving with her eyes constantly sweeping
left to right, front to back.
"Look for trouble; you're good at finding that." The wry truth in that
statement annoyed her.
She made a face at the radio. "Sure thing, co…"
"Say it and you'll work foot patrol Yucka for a month." Yucka was the
in-house nickname given to Yucca Apartments. Click, click, click, click,
and click. Both Chris and Nina knew the clicks originated from Ezra
showing his amusement because of the limited range for talk-around. "Ezra,
don't you have somewhere to be?"
growled their sergeant.
In response, Ezra's answer came over the primary channel. "K9-16's on
location, FC."
"10-4 K9-16."
Nina continued driving around the bars showing the colors, waiting for the
inevitable.