It was just too damn ironic. Peter Tosh's "Wanted Dread and Alive" was blaring out of the sound system of my car when I noticed the blue and red lights behind me.
I had had a late night at the office and the warm summer night breeze felt good blowing over my face. So rather than put on the A/C, I let what we had waited all winter for, warm me up. I was also trying to put the shitty winter and the past few weeks of a shitty episode in my life behind me.
You see, summer on the coast had finally arrived and I greeted the warm weather by keeping the windows on my car down and turning up the volume of the radio. It wasn't so loud as to offend others, just loud enough to make me happy, so I had no other idea as to why Johnny Law wanted me to pull over. I wasn't speeding, well maybe 2mph over, but really?
Putting my turn signal on, I pulled right, headed over to the shoulder of the street and put on my four-way flashers.
My cop was certainly in no hurry to come over to my car. He remained in his patrol car and must have been running a series of checks on my tags. With nothing out of the ordinary to be found, everything should come back clean. I had owned this particular car for the last 2 years, it was insured, and I had a clean driving record, so this should be short and sweet.
It my cop got out of the patrol car, it turned out that my officer was a she, and not a him.
The female officer approached my car with lots of caution, more than necessary in my opinion, but safety is not a bad thing. The officer carried her hand at her side, not far from her firearm. When she got a little closer, I gave her the usual, "Good evening officer".
"License and registration."
"Can I ask what I did wrong?"
"License and registration." My patience in any bad situation is something that I've always prided myself on. I have been in my fair share of sticky places over the years and have never had trouble with the law, but I do tend to push the wrong buttons on some occasions.
"Yeah, I think we've already established that part. My question is why? What have I done that requires you to see those items?" In this case, that was the button that pushed her over the edge.
"Hands where I can see them and step out of the vehicle." Patrol Officer Barnes as the name plate on her uniform indicated wasn't a happy girl. She had drawn her service revolver and pointed it at my person.
This wasn't the first time that I have ever had a gun pointed at me, but it was the first time ever by an officer of the law, so I did as I was told and got out of my car. With my hands entwined behind my head and a P320 pointed at me, Officer Barnes grabbed my thumbs and started to pat me down.
"Aren't you going to ask my permission first. You pulled me over for no reason, made me get out of my car at gun point and then you start to search me without cause. You didn't ask if there was anything in my pockets. I could have a weapon or a sharp object in there that could harm you. What are you, straight out of the academy?" Apparently, this was just another button that was waiting to be pushed.
The 5'7" officer twisted my left thumb back as is she was trying to break it and snapped the arm of her handcuffs over my wrist. I heard the ratchet teeth catching before I realized what she was doing.
"Really? Now you're cuffing me. Can I at least ask why?" Barnes mumble something into the walkie on her shoulder that sounded like a request for back-up. The next thing I know, my chest is flat on the trunk lid of my car and she is kicking my feet apart.
Officer Barnes pat down tactics were more than a little handsy, she left no crack or crevice unsearched. If the roles were reversed, I'm sure that some sort of line or boundary would have been crossed. When she completed her task, she spun me so that I was leaning back onto the push bar on the front of her car.
It was the first time that I had gotten a good look at Patrol Officer Barnes and I would have to say that the view wasn't that bad. The officer wore zero make-up and her long brown hair was wrapped up into a bun on the top of her head. Her upper torso was hidden by her protective vest, but no amount of protection could hide the fact that she had a fine ass under her uniform.
"So, Barnes, nothing better to do tonight? Just wandering around out here, harassing the general public? We both know that I wasn't speeding." When Barnes started going through my car, the fur on my neck stood up a bit. Not that I had anything to hide, it's just that I like my privacy. "You do know that that's an illegal search, and anything that you think that you might find, would be inadmissible in court, don't you Barnes."
"Officer Barnes, and I have probable cause."
"Please enlighten me as to what you think that "probable cause" might be."
Barnes looked at me like she had won the lottery when she put my SIG Sauer M11-A1 on the roof of my car and didn't say another word until her back-up arrived.
The assisting officer didn't look like he was in a very good mood either. He was a large black man and from the stripes on his uniforms, he was well decorated in the police world.
"Captain."
"Officer Barnes. What do we have here?"
"This gentleman turned off of Galveston onto Little Creek and didn't stop for the red light. This same Mercedes was reported to be lurking in a reported drug area earlier in the evening and when I asked for identification, he refused and then he resisted arrest. Also, I found a gun, with two clips in his vehicle"
"Son." Captain Jones looked even less enthused now that he heard what Barnes had to say.
"Yes sir."
"What's up? And try to spare me the bullshit."
"Just left work. Exited off the Admiral so that I could pick up some food on my way home. I don't do drugs and I don't drive a Benz." Barnes' head snapped when she swung to look at my car. It is a 2019 Genesis G70. It looks like a Benz, but at a much lower price.
"Why did you refuse to be I.D.'d and why did you resist arrest?"
"I didn't. I'm sure that the in-car camera will verify that. Also, how can someone resist arrest if they were never told that they were under arrest?"
The Captain cocked his eyebrow at Barnes and walked toward the door of her car. The sound of another vehicle pulling up caused us all to look away from our current situation.
Major Hamlet, of the U.S. Marine Corps pulled his black non-descript SUV along-side the two patrol cars and stepped out. He must have noticed me and the predicament that I was in, when he was driving by.
The major was a career Marine. He went straight from the academy, to the war, to Norfolk. He was very well respected and like the Captain, he was highly decorated, but his decorations were from all around the world and not just a small part of Virginia.
"Captain. Officer. Can I ask why you have this man detained." The story of my so-called arrest was passed around. The fact that Barnes had found a weapon in my vehicle, etc. After the trio watched the video of my being pulled over, I heard Jones ask Hamlet why I was out of uniform and if he could vouch for my character. The Captain continued on, he explained that Barnes had just started her shift and had perhaps made an error in judgement.
"Chief Warrant Officer Mills is an up and comer in the Corps. He finished his shift hours ago but stayed behind working to keep our country safe. If Officer Barnes knew how to do her job, we wouldn't be standing here, in what could be called a sticky predicament. She should learn to ascertain the correct details before diving head-first into a hornet's nest. Captain Jones, it is my official recommendation that Officer Barnes be..."
"Sir. If I may." The Major and I had worked on a number of projects together and we currently were teamed on a project that was deemed to be somewhat important to national security. I hated to interject when he was talking with the Captain, but this had gone far enough. I privately explained to the Major what my point of view on the situation was, and he reluctantly agreed to see it my way.
"Well Captain, it would appear that Mills here, just wants to let this go. He sees no harm or no foul. Captain, do you agree?"
Captain Jones gave a deep growling, "Agreed" and the two upper classmen shook hands, got into their vehicles and parted ways.
Barnes undid my cuffs and once again I was a free man. "Barnes, if you don't mind, I'd like my weapon back." Her demeanor had changed drastically. At this point she was almost sheepish.
"Look Barnes, I'm not being a dick. All that you have to do is follow the basic rules of law enforcement and you'll do just fine. Facts, facts, and more facts. Don't rush or jump to conclusions."
When, she handed me my piece and my two spare clips, I couldn't help but take a small shot, so I reached into my wallet and handed her my card, "Look Barnes, if you ever need automobile identification and recognition training, give me a call." Barnes glared at me with a look of disgust.
"Officer Barnes." Was her retort. Well at least she had spunk.
My work took me out of the country for the following three months. When I returned to the grind, it took another month of solid catch up work before I could see daylight, all of which played havoc with my social calendar.
With everything back on a somewhat normal axis, I greed to join some of my troop at a charitable gala. One of the local charities was earning money to sponsor one of the state's Sick Children's Hospitals.
The evening was a fun Las Vegas styled casino extravaganza. Music, low stakes gambling, silent auctions, and drinks. Everyone in attendance appeared to be having a good time and were throwing cash around to help a good cause.
Scanning the room, I did my favorite thing in the world, I people watched. The actions, habits and mannerisms of humans fully intrigue me. I could spend a week at an airport or a mall as a vacation and tonight wasn't a letdown.
Old money mixed with new money, who mixed with no money and everyone was happy. Using and losing cash that wasn't printed by the U.S. Mint will make that happen.
The gold sequined dress caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. The fine figure that it adorned looked out of place among the rest of us. Showcasing just enough cleavage to show some modesty and being only slightly tight so that it showed off a fine ass. Her long hair was washed to the side, so that it hung down over her shoulder and down her left breast. The delicate features of her face sparkled with only the minimal amount of make-up.
I knew that I had to talk to her, and I didn't care about protocol or precautions.
"Barnes."
