Peter retrieved his bag, mockingly saluting the fallen officer, before tossing the bag into the back seat of the police cruiser as the traffic continued by, oblivious to what just happened.
“Only in America,” Peter said aloud as he pulled out into the heavy traffic that again seemed to give way to the police vehicle.
Mark eased himself up from where he lay on the hot asphalt. A sudden pain in the center of his chest caused him to cry out in pain. Reaching down, he unbuttoned his shirt only to be rewarded with a deformed piece of lead imbedded in his vest, saving his life in the process. Eyeing the slug, Mark decided to put it in his pocket, a keep-sake for future reference. Looking about, he could see that both his weapon and police cruiser stolen. “Shit!” he said aloud. Reaching for his radio, he called in his status, still looking around for his backup.
“Annapolis base this is Baker 12, come in Annapolis base,” Mark said, his hand searching for the impact spot beneath his vest, one that would surely produce a grapefruit sized bruise in a day or two.
“Baker 12 this is Annapolis base. Your backup is in route. One minute ETA.”
Mark wondered what in the hell he was going to tell his boss as he fingered his mike. “Annapolis base, Baker 12 has been shot. I repeat, shot. Vest stopped bullet.” He fingered the bullet’s bruise that made it difficult for him to breathe before continuing. “Annapolis base, my cruiser and weapon have been stolen by the suspect while I was unconscious. Please alert DC police that the suspect is probably heading their way.” He stood up with the aid of the truck’s bumper in time to see his back up maneuvering through the traffic, sirens blazing.
I am going to catch that bastard. And when I do — I’m going to kill him.
Three minutes passed since he left the officer to die along the side of the road. By now an all points bulletin would be posted. He knew the Americans did not take kindly to the murder of their police officers. Little did they realize, but this was already number two for the day — with many more to follow.
With the Washington DC city limits fast approaching, he wanted to ditch the police cruiser and steal another mode of transportation. No doubt driving a police cruiser would make it harder for him to blend in.
Driving past a Honda Civic, he noticed a young woman behind the wheel. Peter quickly hatched his next plan. Being in a police vehicle, he could pull over any car he chose; couldn’t he? The Americans are a law and order society and would obey a police officer’s command to stop. That’s it! I could seize the vehicle of an unsuspecting person, someone naive or young enough not to ask questions. Someone similar to the young female he had just passed. Brilliant!
Wendy Wexler battled early afternoon traffic due to an accident slowing both sides of the highway. She was on her way home from attending morning classes at Montgomery County Community College. As she drove on Highway 50, she mentally reviewed her Physics Final she had taken that morning. She needed 6 credits to complete her Associates degree, and if she passed Physics, only one more course to go.
Turning to her right, she saw a police car slowing beside her. Looking down at her speedometer, satisfied she was within the speed limit, she went back to reviewing her Final.
Slowing to 50 miles per hour, Peter stayed in the outside lane, allowing Wendy’s Honda to approach him. Peter slowed the car even further, gradually allowing her to pass. She glanced at him as she drove by. Peter pulled his car behind hers. He then noticed her nervously fidgeting in the driver’s seat, looking from rearview mirror to the side mirror, and then slowing her speed to 50 miles per hour.
Peter had his victim—now he just needed an appropriate area to pull her over.
Looking ahead past the flowing traffic, Peter saw his opportunity in an off-ramp only about a ½ mile ahead. It was once again coming together. This would fit right into his plan. If he could get her to drive up the ramp and off the highway, they would be away from peering eyes.
As he drove Peter also searched for the switch to turn on the cars siren. In course finding the police radio. Might be nice to have the latest on what type of reception they are planning he thought, fidgeting with the buttons on the radio, he turned it on. Seeing nothing labeled for siren, he noticed a well-worn switch with no name affixed to it. Peter flipped the switch, and the siren sprung to life.
Wendy wondered why a police cruiser suddenly took up position behind her car. She wasn’t speeding. The car was recently inspected, so her license tags weren’t expired. She looked in the rear view mirror to notice the flashing lights first, followed by the siren. My father’s going to kill me if I get a ticket.
Wendy looked immediately to her right in order to oblige the officer and pull over. Once again the traffic magically parted for both Wendy and Peter as he stayed behind her Honda, in effect riding its bumper with his vehicle as she made her way over to the emergency lane. Once in the emergency lane, she stopped 100 feet from the 14th Street exit ramp.
With two speeding tickets in the past year, Wendy knew the drilclass="underline" show me your license, registration and proof of insurance. Same routine.
Peter couldn’t help but notice the 14th Street exit ramp only a few feet ahead of the Honda. He had to coax his prey to drive the remaining distance up the ramp and off the highway to a more secluded location. He looked about the car’s interior before finding a switch labeled megaphone. Peter pushed what looked to be the power button causing a green light to illuminate. Picking up the microphone, he pushed the detent a few times before hearing a clicking sound on a speaker outside of his cruiser.
“Will the young lady in the Honda please drive up the ramp and exit to the right? The traffic is too heavy for me to exit my vehicle.”
Wendy heard the policeman’s request to drive up the ramp, waving out the window in response. She then drove up the ramp at 10 miles per hour and exited as instructed.
Peter turned up the volume of the police radio when he overheard radio traffic concerning the policeman he had shot few moments earlier. One particular comment piqued his interest. The officer he shot evidently survived due to his bulletproof vest, suffering only a concussion during the incident. An intense manhunt was now underway to locate Peter and the stolen police cruiser.
He didn’t have much time. He had to ditch the cruiser and fast.
Peter followed Wendy into the parking lot for a single story office building. He seized the opportunity and used the office building and the car to his advantage, pulling in beside her but allowing the office building to block his vehicles view from the street. He positioned the police vehicle out of view of anyone but Wendy. Peter then used the cruiser’s megaphone to summon Wendy.
“Please approach with your registration papers and drivers license at the ready,” Peter said. He was ready to kill her if she didn’t comply.
Wendy gathered her documents and exited her car, walking in between the office building and the police car.
“Officer, I didn’t mean to do whatever I supposedly did wrong. Please don’t give me a ticket,” Wendy pleaded. “I can’t afford my car insurance as it is,” she said, thrusting her documents through the open window at Peter. She looked down at his shorts and suddenly realized that something didn’t make sense. She knew the police had undercover units, but they usually operated in the urban environments, not on traffic detail.