Officer Hansen sat in his squad car, listening to his favorite sports podcast,
The Diamond
. The hosts were running through the scores of the current season, and of course, the White Sox were not doing as great as Hansen wished they were. A Chicago native, he remembered the times he actually managed to see them play at Comiskey Park. Well, now it's called Guaranteed Rate Field, but Hansen would be eternally damned before he ever called it that. He had moved to Nevada, always on the move in between gigs at different police departments. Hansen knew he wanted to be a police officer a little later in his life, only realizing after his first year at the University of Chicago. However, it was for the wrong reasons.
Back in college, Hansen rode with his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend. She was a total smoke-show, and man what Hansen would have done to have a chance at her. They were on a road trip for Spring Break when they got pulled over in the evening since the girlfriend was speeding. It seemed like once the cop got to the window, he could have cared less about the men in the car, and he was totally focused on the girl. He practically interrogated her and got her to trip up on her words, admitting they were college kids on Spring Break. Once he heard that, he asked her to open the trunk, and she complied, too scared to refuse. The cop moved back to the trunk, rummaging through their bags until he came back to the window. In his hand was a small bag of weed, and he demanded that she get out of the car. His roommate tried to interject and say that wasn't theirs, but the cop assertively told him to, "Shut the fuck up unless you want to see the inside of a cell." The cop said he needed to search her, and once she opened the door, he grabbed her arm and pulled her up and out. He spun her around and had her hands placed on the roof of the car, and began his search. The girl was in shock at everything happening so fast, too afraid to say anything. Everyone in the car could see that the cop was being more invasive than he should, going over the same areas multiple times, squeezing her breasts and taking his time between her yoga pants clad legs. The cop spun her around, asking how much trouble she thinks she's in. Staying silent, the cop told her to wait by the passenger door of his squad car. As she went over there, he eyed her ass swaying side to side. He turned his attention to Hansen and his roommate, telling them that if they keep their eyes forward and wait, everything should pan out fine. His roommate, scared to do anything, listened. Hansen was in the back seat though, and he would look at the rear-view mirror to see what was happening between the two. The cop walked back and opened the passenger door, but did not step in. Some words were spoken to the girl as he took off his gun belt, and placed it in the seat. He kept his eyes on the car, and while it seemed like he made eye contact with Hansen, he didn't say anything. Hansen saw as the cop turned back towards the girl, and he placed his hand on the girl's shoulder. Shockingly, she lowered herself down to her knees, and while the door was blocking her from Hansen's view, he saw the cop's pants drop to the ground. The cop looked back at the car, this time with a slight smirk on his face. Minutes passed, and Hansen saw the cop's hand move forward, assuming he was placing his hand on her head. The cop twitched for a moment, then pulled his pants back up, not bothering with the gun belt. The girl got to her feet, and the cop walked her back the car. He bid them a good day, and she sat back in her seat. She had a thousand yard stare, and a small trail of spit on her chin. His roommate asked if she was alright, and she meekly said she wanted to go back home early. The cop car sped past them, and she put the car back into drive. Hansen wasn't sure if his roommate had an idea of what happened, but that was enough for Hansen to realize that being a cop was perfect. Who was she going to tell, the police?
Hansen had a great assignment too. He was assigned to patrol and monitor Highway 50, a 3,000 mile stretch of road cutting through the middle of nowhere across the United States. No supervision, no unwanted eyes. It had been a few days since he had any action, and he was about to call it early and move until he saw a car in the distance. He got his speed radar ready, waiting to see if they were going more than 55 miles per hour. The white sedan eventually drove past him, and he eyed a blonde girl driving the car alone and the University of Nevada logo in the rear windshield. He got excited at the thought of college pussy, and got even more excited when his radar read 65 miles per hour
"About fucking time," Hansen said to himself.
His car kicked up the rocks it was resting on, and the lights turned on as he whipped the steering wheel to get on the road. The white sedan took a few seconds to realize what was going on before turning on their signal to pull over. They came to a slow crawl on the side of the road, and Hansen saw the rear lights shift as it was put into park. He took a minute for a couple of reasons. One, so that he could collect himself and plan out somewhat how he was going to get to what he wanted. The other reason is so that the perpetrator would get nervous about what was happening, since they couldn't leave without making the situation way worse. He opened his door and stepped out, slowly marching over to the girl. He tapped on her window to let her know to roll it down, seeing her with the car registration and insurance in hand. As she rolled the window down, he smelled something putrid. Smoke. That was his in.
"Do you have any idea why I pulled you over miss?"
The girl looked towards him, but she made a point to not make eye contact.
"No officer, I don't."
"Speed limit is 55. Know how fast you were going?"
The girl made eye contact with him.
"I'm sorry officer. Sometimes on a road like this, I just space out-"
Hansen stuck his hand up to tell her to stop the story. Spacing out was a common defense in his experience.
"65. That's a little more than just spacing out. License, registration, and insurance please," he said with an authoritative presence.
The girl passed her registration and insurance, and grabbed her purse out of the passenger seat to grab her license. As she placed the purse in her lap and sifted through its contents, he eyed her chest. If he had to guess, she was a B-cup, but he would find out for sure soon enough. She passed her ID to him, giving an awkward smile at the interaction.
"Don't think about leaving," he said coldly.
On his way back to the car, he read her ID. Chloe Lane. 5' 6", 105 lbs. Reading the birthday, she would have turned 18 a few months ago, back in May. It was August now, so he could only guess she was on her way to being a freshman at college. For now, however, she is with him.
As he sat back in his car, he read the rest of the paperwork he was given, seeing that the car and insurance were registered under a Michael Lane, most likely her father. He didn't bother typing in the information into his work computer, as he didn't want records of these types of encounters. It helped him immensely that he was given an older vehicle which lacked a dashcam. It was his word against theirs, and he had the record of authentic stops to back him up. He never had to contest anyone however, as it seemed they always wanted to forget and move on. He sat in his car a few minutes longer, letting Chloe's nerves get the better of her. Hansen eventually stepped out of the car, making his way back to her window.
"Where were you headed miss?"
"I'm just on my way to the University of Nevada. It's my first year there."
"Do you have anything I need to know about?"
"What do you mean?" she asked nervously.
"Don't play stupid, I can smell smoke. What is it?"
Chloe was caught off guard by his hostile remark.
"It's just cigarettes." She looked down in shame as she said that.
"The legal smoking age got raised to 21 a few years ago, you know that right?"
There was no response from her.
"Miss, I now have probable cause to search the vehicle. Shut the car off, and step out."
"Officer, I don't give consent--"
