The Fugitive Files - C. J. (great reads .txt) 📗
- Author: C. J.
Book online «The Fugitive Files - C. J. (great reads .txt) 📗». Author C. J.
The following morning, while the team was continuing to seek out their fugitive, Sgt. Banks had a
much dreaded appointment with members of the Internal Affairs Bureau.
Jimmy entered the front glass doors of the MPD headquarters building, swiped his access badge
to the elevator, and struck the key to floor five. Awaiting the ride up, he glanced into the metal
interior of the rising box and adjusted his tie in the reflection. As Jimmy cursed to himself from just
having to be there, he couldn’t help but feel eager to get it over with. Banks exited the elevator,
crossed by a security desk where sat a half sleeping guard, and walked to the end of a long
brown painted hallway to a set of chairs at the very end. As he sat down he smiled slightly to
himself, looking back in the direction that he just traveled from he thought of how much the floor
reminded him of an insane asylum.
Banks placed his hands up to his temples and began to firmly rub his aching head away, recalling
the day that brought him here.
It had been hot all week with temperatures nearing the hundreds for nearly three days. Sgt.
Banks, Han and Adams entered the tan brick apartment building and began climbing the steps to
the third floor. An informant had given them information the night before about a burglary suspect
that was residing in apartment 302. Banks reached the door first and began to knock.
Adams and Han were a few doors down the hallway talking to a nearby neighbor. In the
background, they could hear their Sergeant knock a few more times, and demand entry into the
apartment. No answer. What seemed like just a few seconds later, they heard a loud boom in
which they immediately recognized as a wooden door being kicked in. They both whipped around
in concert.
Banks was gone, the door was shattered, and a woman in the immediate distance was
screaming. Adams rushed in, attempting to help his teammate gain control of the situation. As the
detectives cleared through the small apartment to a back bedroom they saw that the burly
sergeant had a woman on the floor, face down and in handcuffs. Not their guy, not even close,
and the woman had no idea as to who they were looking for.
Gerri Miller was a third year student at American University in D.C. She had lived in the
apartment for over two years and had never heard of the man that the fugitive unit was seeking
out. The woman seemed horrified and was shaking the entire time during her interview with the
detectives. Before traveling to the nation’s capital, Gerri had spent her life in a small town just
outside Eugene Oregon.
Gerri had been interviewed and released with no further incident. After a few days back at school,
she started talking to a law student in her study group who began getting Gerri excited about her
civil liberties and how police in America get away with entirely too many rights violations. Next
thing you know, Ms. Miller is at Police Headquarters filing a complaint. The three page document
filed that day gave a range of violations to include breaking and entering, and assault. The
veteran sergeant would have to explain and answer for his actions.
“They will see you now, Sergeant.”
James Banks rose to his feet with all the pride his father had passed on to him, pulled his sport
jacket down from the back and entered the large conference room.
Five men with straight faces all watched intently while Banks entered. Each had on a sharply
crisp class A uniform, service ribbons on one side, shining silver shield on the other. Of the five,
three were actively writing notes on tablets as Jimmy came to a rest in front of the long board
room table.
Sergeant Banks was conducting his own internal dialogue. He openly despised people like this.
Guys who have not worked the field in years, and even when they did, most didn’t do the kind of
work he and his team did. The men who stood to judge him were not hunters, at least not of the
kind of animals he made a career chasing down. Despite that, Jimmy was a man of great pride,
and would not complain about anything he was about to receive.
Sam was running down the dimly lit hallway to get to the team office at the end of it. The walls
had always reminded her of an insane asylum. The walls were formed from pale yellow brick that
may, or may not have once been white and small cracks lining each side. There was a door here
and there, and a hanging exit sign that spouted sparks every so often. At the end of the hall way
was a pale blue door with a wanted poster of Osama Bin Laden scotch taped to the front. Just to
the left of the door was a small piece of paper taped to the wall that read MPD Warrant Squad.
Sam shot through the door holding a thick manila folder in her hand. Her breathing was
somewhat labored as she raised her voice for the entire room to hear.
“Need some bodies to help me out a sec. just got a tip on an old case.”
From the tops of the office cubicles, voices started to respond.
“I’m there, one minute.” Adams.
“Meet me in the parking lot.” Han
Han jumped into the passenger seat of Sam’s car with Adams pulling close behind them. They
pulled off in hast, heading toward their target.
“Sergeant James Banks, you are in attendance of this hearing to receive final disposition for
complaint number C06-264470.”
Another panel member spoke.
“Sergeant Banks, complaint C06-264470 contains the following: making forcible entry into
residence without just cause and absent any exigent circumstances, also excessive force, misuse
of force, and lastly, threatening, harassing and/ or obscene language.”
He couldn’t help but smirk to himself just a little.
“Subject is David Toney, black male, about 225lbs, between 5’8” and 5’9, warrant for felony
probation violation for weapons offense”. Sam
“Copy, I just called dispatcher, she’s holding us out, and sending a patrol unit to cover the rear.” Adams.
A few minutes later they arrived at 1720 Lang Place in North East Washington. From down the
street they could see the row home with red brick front and a small concrete porch extending from
the front door. They observed items scattered along the porch area, giving the appearance the
house was occupied by nomads.
A patrol unit turned onto the one-way street and slowly rolled in their direction. The officer
stopped next to their passenger window and rolled his window down as Han did the same. From
the drivers seat of the red, white, and blue cruiser, an gray haired veteran with a wide smile
greeted the man hunters.
“How we doing ladies?”
“Fuck off Frank, How long you been on now, 60 years!”
“Got rent to pay you fuckin fish head.”
Han and the patrolman exchanged some laughs at each other, before Tully finally asked for help
to cover the rear door of the house. The squad car began to pull toward the back alley while
Frank shouted a few more parting insults at Han.
The patrol car came to a silent rolling stop in the rear alley of the brick row home. Frank then
radioed to the team out front that he was in place.
Sam took the lead with Adams and Han stacked tightly behind her. As they began their approach
they noticed a dim light illuminating a back room. Adams halted the team and brought their
attention to a figure he saw through a small front room window.
“Sam, is this your guy?”
“Oh yeah, that’s him.”
Through the window Sam could see guy matching the picture she was carrying attached to a
felony arrest warrant. The male inside appeared to be sleeping under the dim glow of a floor
lamp. The team moved forward of the window, stepping in sync as one cohesive unit. They
arrived silently at the door, Sam checked the doorknob, and as luck had it, unlocked.
“To James Banks, Sergeant, Metropolitan Police Department, Washington, D.C. this council finds
the following: In the matter of illegal entry into a residence, excessive and misuse of force, the
council finds no grounds to sustain. In the matter of using obscene or harassing language, the
council sustains that complaint. Sergeant, would you like to proceed with discipline?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“This council will issue a three day suspension, as well a written reprimand in your personnel file.”
“Sergeant Banks you have a union right to file an appeal on the findings as well as the discipline
of this council. It is, however, important for you to know that you received a rather light
suspension mainly in part to the outstanding production that you and your unit has achieved, as
well as the fact that the assistant chief appreciates your dedication to service.”
“Understood.” Banks nodded, and then turned toward the exit. As he made his way out, he
yanked viciously at his neck tie making every attempt to relieve himself from its grasp. Jimmy
almost broke into a jog while traveling down the final hallway toward the back door. Banks cared
very little about what had just happened. He was glad the ordeal was over and that his urgency
was due entirely to his will to rejoin his team.
The three warrant officers entered with quickness and precision, clearing hallways and rooms in
route to where they had seen their target. As they entered into the final short hall, their target was
slowly coming into view and Adams began to make their presence known.
“Police, Police show me your hands!”
“Arrest warrant Mr. Toney, put your hands up!” Tully
The mans head shot up off the pillow, eyes wide under shoulder length dreadlocks, the covers
flew to the side and the large man wearing nothing but skivvies lunged for a half open window.
“Stop police, Stop right there!”
Sam dove toward the fleeing felon,
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