On this occasion, with the two suspects in the front area of the sham apartment, there was an immediate shootout. Since the two officers directly behind Carlos precisely followed their preordained ballet with one concentrating on the kitchen and the other on the living room area, they bested the suspects. Within seconds the drill was over to well-deserved acclaim.
Twenty minutes later Brian walked out of the TAC House building, feeling particularly good about the visit. Having watched the drill and having experienced the palpable esprit de corps of the people involved made him progressively confident that rejoining the ESU was the proper decision for him, especially when he compared it with some of the security gigs he’d done. A number of those jobs involved squiring around and kowtowing to the demands of entitled wealthy narcissists and their spoiled offspring. In many ways Brian was coming more and more to identify himself as a blue-collar kind of guy who liked to get his hands dirty. It almost seemed as if the NYPD ESU, with its constant action, was tailor-made for him.
Rounding the northern end of the admin building, Brian walked into the middle of a dozen ESU officers who’d just finished a recertification SCUBA dive and were busy rinsing their equipment. In a repeat of what had happened when Brian first entered the TAC House, there was a warm interaction with condolences about Emma and encouragement for Brian to rejoin the ranks.
Entering the largest of the four buildings that formed the ESU complex, Brian walked into the SCUBA section. Passing through the storage and maintenance area, he entered Detective Jose Garcia’s cramped and rather messy office. The detective was at his desk with the guts of a regulator exposed, as he did most of the upkeep and repair work himself. Similar to Michael Comstock, Jose was a big, thickset man, and except for a significant difference in complexion, they could have been brothers, down to the shaved heads. The main difference was that Jose had an impressive number of tattoos covering his forearms from a stint in the US Navy directly out of high school.
Although Brian would have preferred not to talk again about Emma’s passing, he knew he didn’t have a choice. Emma was extraordinarily well liked both at the academy and in the unit, probably more than Brian because of his mild but recognized self-righteous streak on certain subjects, including extremists on both sides of the political divide. One of Emma’s admirable qualities had been her acceptance of others.
“So, Michael says you are interested in doing a recertification dive with us,” Jose said.
“I am,” Brian confirmed. “It’s not critical since I’m still certified, but I would enjoy it. It’s your fault. You turned me from a committed terrestrial into an amphibian.”
Jose laughed with true mirth. “You were a tough cookie to crack, but I was optimistic.”
They then spent a few minutes reminiscing about some of the dives they’d done together, particularly one to retrieve the body of a suicide jumper in the East River, where the currents can be notorious.
“Well, then,” Jose said when there was a pause in their reminiscing. He slapped his desk with the palms of both hands and stood up. “Let’s get you ready for a dive by setting you up with a locker, a wet suit, whatever else you might want, including one of our newest regulators. You are going to love it.”
Fifteen minutes later, with all the dive equipment set aside in a locker, Brian left the SCUBA area and walked the length of the large hangar-like building. He emerged back out in the sunshine on its west side, and from there it was a short route back to the admin building. As he neared it, he felt really good about his visit as well as progressively convinced that in the not-too-distant future he would be back to being an ESU officer.
“Deputy Chief Comstock had to leave for an impromptu meeting downtown with the police commissioner,” Helen Gurly explained when Brian approached her desk. “But no worries. He had me make the arrangements with Rodman’s Neck and all you have to do is show your ID at the gate and then meet up with Captain Ted Miller, one of the firearms and tactics instructors, at the gunsmith. He’ll be expecting you, provided you get there before six. There’s also a surprise for you waiting on the deputy chief’s desk that I’m told you already know about.”
“You are talking about the Remington?” Brian asked.
“None other. Have a good day, I’m outta here.” With that, Helen grabbed her bag, said that it was a joy to see him again, and pushed past on her way out into the corridor.
Entering Michael’s office, Brian saw a camouflaged rifle bag with a shoulder strap on the desk along with five boxes of ammunition: three in 7.62mm NATO caliber for the rifle and two in 9mm for his pistol. Unzipping the bag, he found himself admiring a particularly lethal-looking, light tan sniper rifle with a folding stock and a suppressor. What impressed him immediately was the amount of customizing adjustments available, and how intuitive they were to utilize. Within minutes he adapted the length between the stock and the trigger to his needs, as well as the height and position of the cheek piece and the position of the scope. As for the finer adjustments of the telescopic sight for parallax and minute of angle, he’d do that at the shooting range when he’d be able to experience how well engineered the firearm actually was in comparison with the older Remington 700. After refolding the stock, Brian returned the weapon to its bag and slung it over his shoulder. Picking up the boxes of ammunition, he headed back out to his Subaru.
As he climbed into the car, he felt pleased with his visit to ESU Headquarters and more inclined to believe that rejoining the NYPD would be a wise move for many reasons. What especially encouraged him was that Michael Comstock, the commanding officer, had ostensibly recovered from his pique about his and Emma’s retirement and wanted him back on board.
Chapter 33
September 2
Ten minutes later Brian was heading north on the Belt Parkway with Jamaica Bay off to his right and sparkling in the summer sunlight. The traffic was moderate, but being late afternoon and rush hour, he knew that would significantly change despite the pandemic. As far as the timing was concerned, he thought it was a good time to visit the Rodman’s Neck shooting range. As an active NYPD officer, he’d been there more times than he could count for various firearms classes and recertification exercises, which usually had been in the mornings when it was always crowded. There were seven shooting ranges, of which six were for pistols and one for rifles, and the complex was used by not only the NYPD, but also the FBI, NYC Correction, New York Fire Marshals, and even ICE.
As he drove, his thoughts drifted back to Juliette and how the day had begun, including the aggravating visit to the ED. After the disturbing call with Roger Dalton earlier and finding out the cost of yesterday’s visit, he wondered what the charges were going to be for today. Reluctantly, he assumed it would be equally as outrageous considering what he now knew about hospital business practices.
Facing at least an hour of downtime before arrival at Rodman’s Neck, Brian thought it a good opportunity to check in with Camila to give her an idea of when he’d be arriving home. He also considered broaching the idea that he was thinking of rejoining the NYPD, as such a move would impact her life, though he realized it wasn’t the best time. As for Juliette, he was relatively confident she was doing okay following the positive news about her behavior he’d gotten earlier. Surely if anything significant had changed, Camila or Jeanne would have called or texted. For that reason, it was shocking when Camila started the conversation by saying that Juliette’s fever had returned.