Sitting in the parking log of the 7-11, under a yellow light, sat the white truck. He hadn't noticed it earlier cuz the parking lot light was a really cruddy yellow, almost orange. The hue glistening off the truck had made it virtually change colors instantly, removing it from his mind's target list.
And again, without thinking, he picked up the microphone. "Dispatch, Mary 16"
"Go 16"
"I need a backup at corner Pomeroy and Benton, 7-11, see the Seargeant, make it quiet".
"Roger. All units vacinity Pomeroty and Benton, 10-21, see the Seargeant."
A moment passed than Billy heard the dispatcher, "Roger your two minutes, Mary 6, and your three minutes Mary 5, both units handle code 1, repeat code 1"
Billy now had two units on the way, even if he had no idea why. Well that was a Seargeant's perogative, he guessed. If is wasn't....well he'd just added a new perogative to the list, by damn. Call it the "gut instinct Seargeant's" or "veteran's" perogative, thank you very much.
Killing his lights, he pulled over towards the station, and situated the unit so that it was out of sight of the 7-11. This was an excellent opportunity to see how the old guy truck was moving around.
"Hey, if the dude even teeters one step, I'll bust him", he muttered to himself. Moving the belt pack of his holster into the small of his back, he checked to make sure the light jacket he was wearing covered it. Then taking a quick but deep breath, he casually walking around the edge of the Gas Station building and started a stroll over to the 7-11.
He could make out the cashier standing at the counter, watching someone out of sight to the right. By all rights, that would be the old man. The cashier looked familar, well sort of. On his last pass through the Pomery intersection heading toward the DMV, Billy had, with those ever looking, piercing cop eyes, spotted the guy as he stood there watching his TV. This time, of course, he was watching his customer.
As Billy drew closer, he jumped. The Cashier had just pumped his hands up in the air, then after just a moment's pause plopped them down on the counter top. It was going down! A robbery.
Billy did a quick reversal, walked quickly back toward the car. Shit. A 2-11. Well at least he had backup on the way. Shit! If the perp shot the cashier while he was standing out here with his finger up his ass, he'd catch hell till they retired him. Double and Triple Shit.
Once out of sight, he sprinted to the car and grabbed the mic.
"Break break break. 2-11 in progress, 7-11 Benton and Pomeroy. See the Seargeant, Code 1"
The dispatcher hit her tone keys and then repeated the call, "All units standby on frequency. 2-11 in progress at the 7-11, Benton and Pomeroy. 7-11 Benton and Pomeroy. See the Seargeant, all units responding need not call, approach code 1, repeat approach code 1. Keep this frequency clear.
"Mary 6, 2 minutes. Mary 5 1 minute. Mary 7 is 2 minutes. Mary 10 is 30. S-3 is 1 minute."
"This is S-3. Rest of you guys head that way slow, let's not get the whole damn town woken up. Mary 10 and Mary 5 take the choke points. 6 and 7, I want you to take the intersections points on Pomeroy and Lawrence. I'll pick up the point at the Fire Station. Dispatch, get me a shooting team up and ready."
"Roger S-3. This is Dispatch. Mary 10 take position at the West side of the 7-11 parking lot, Mary 5 position at the East Side. Mary 6, S-3 suggests a position on Pomeroy just back of the intersection and 7-11, and hold traffic. Mary 7 proceed to Lawrence and Benton, hold traffic off of Benton. "
"Dispatch, S-3. Thanks. Please put S-16 and handling units on TAC-3."
"Roger S-3. S-16 and Mary units handling 7-11 and Benton, switch to TAC-3."
"S-16, S-3"
Billy, fidgeting now, anxious to get back to the scene, answered hurriedly.
"Go!"
"Watcha' Ya' Got Billy?"
"Gotta Go. Perp's got the gun out, cashier is in danger. Don't let anybody shoot me, Brad."
"Billy don't you go in there without backup! Billy? Billy!"
But Seargeant Billy McAdams never heard that last admonishment. He was already half way to the 7-11 in a crouch. His mind was in overdrive now, the adrenalin pumping, the different approaches clicking by like an odometer being turned back by an eletric drill. If he acted the dumb tourist he might be able to just walk in and take the guy. He popped the gun into his jacket pocket, and putting both hands in his pockets, slowed to a nice casual saunter towards the door of the store. By now he could see the cashier was busy playing the money game, stuffing what few bills he had left out of the drop safe into a bright orange and green 7-11 plastic sack. The guy was obviously scared shitless, and kept looking off toward someone off to the right. The old mexican must be off behind the racks somewhere over there.
Glancing over at the truck, Billy noted the 3871 on the license plate. "Hello there" he muttered, "long time no see you silly bastard."
The last thing he remembered is the little buzzer announcing his arrival through the 7-11 door, and a loud bang.