In the midst of my gearing up for a steady two-thousand words-a-day NaNo writing pace, I discovered that I live on a very active corner.
Over the weekend, around 10:30 pm (or so), I heard someone pounding on a door. Not my door, but someone else’s door, real close. (I could hear this because my window was open.)
Wrapping myself in my cute little pink and white bathrobe, I got up to look, because the pounding continued, which was unusual. As I looked out my window, into the oddly brightly lit street, there were three uniformed officers with very powerful flashlights directly across the street from my place, insisting that the occupant of 123 Anywhere Street come out, and come out now. There were also bright spotlights set up because I swear it was almost as bright as day.
As I looked at the scene, I noticed that there were at least five if not six cop cars arranged on the street, one to the east along the street, one to to the west along the street, two blocking the intersection, and about four others blocking the southbound street. All had their blue and red bubble machines going. I was surprised at the number of cop cars present, because even though there were so many cars parked about, I’d not heard a thing. Not them driving up, not them parking, not them getting out of their vehicles. Nothing. Yet there they all were.
More shouting and pounding went on, as demands were shouted for the occupants of that particular apartment to come out, come out, with their hands in the air, and then the fun really started.
Cones were put out to stop any traffic at the intersection, and spike strips along the eastbound portion of the road, to stop any traffic that got through the cones and the cop cars at the intersection. Then, one by one, around 10 unmarked police cars showed up. I know they were unmarked police cars because their front-end bubble lights came on to announce their arrival, and then each went into stealth mode and parked in the parking lot of the store down the street.
Then two (yes, two) swat trucks pulled up along the westbound portion of of Anywhere Street.
Then a command station RV showed up, and it was NOT small; it parked with the unmarked cars in the parking lot, and I began to wonder, just how many armed men were needed to arrest one guy?
Then a black, super-unmarked vehicle parked in the middle of the street, right in front of my house and put its blue bubbles on. By this time, with all the bubbles going, my bedroom was lit up like a disco.
Then, a SWAT team assembled along the sidewalk at the intersection, not 25 feet from my bedroom window, where I was huddled, watching the scene unfold before me. I know they were SWAT and not cops because of their uniforms: they wore helmets, vests, boots, gloves, the whole works.
At one point, while various officers and SWAT consulted with each other, the SWAT team brought out two robots. Yes, not one, but two. One robot rolled over the front lawn of 123 Anywhere Street to shine a very bright light into the living room window of the alleged criminal. The other robot (who reminded me of Wall-E) walked up the stairs (no lie) and was prepared to do something at the front door. I’m thinking it was break if the door needed breaking down, or shine more light if needed, or perhaps explode at the signal.
At this point, I was okay with all of this, as it looked rather surreal, as though I were watching a TV show.
And then from nowhere, a sniper and his spotter assistant arrived and set themselves up in the unkempt yard next to my condo, directly below my window. They used the scraggly evergreen trees and a little rise in the ground as their cover.
The spotter was dressed all in black, as if he was the sniper’s shadow. I could barely see what he was doing. But I could see what the sniper was doing, with his camo outfit and close fitting hat, as he set up his tripod and his very long, large rifle of some sort, which he quickly and quietly pointed at the door of 123 Anywhere Street. They were maybe ten feet away from me.
I could see the shine on the barrel of the rifle, and it was then I realized that some Serious Shit was going down. You don’t bring in a guy who can deliver rifle fire that is intended to kill unless you are quite concerned that your quarry is dangerous and volatile. What could the occupant of 123 Anywhere Street have to deserve a SWAT team, let alone a sniper? I was fully prepared for bloodshed, or an explosion, or perhaps both, and really did wonder at this point whether or not I should hide in the basement until it was all over, but then realized that this was a one in a lifetime event: to see a sniper in action up close.
The sniper spread himself out on his camo blanket and steadied his rifle on its tripod and held it there and never moved the entire time. His spotter was almost invisible. Some requests came to cut the lights that were shining through the trees (lots of high powered lanterns and flashlights were being used), and those lights went out, and though I was no longer able to see the shine on the rifle, I still could see the outline of the sniper, but this just barely. (I did not take a picture of the sniper as I wanted to do, because this guy had his finger on the trigger, very ready to go pew pew pew at the alleged criminal’s front door, and should I started him with amy amount of camera flash, then it was entirely possible that I myself would be faced with a dose of pew pew pew in my direction. Besides, I did not want to give away his position or mine.)
Then, unexpectedly, came a loud series of knocks at my front door, and of course I knew that it was either a cop or one of the SWAT team. So I pulled my bathrobe tightly around me and barefooted and dressed in only my jammies and robe, raced downstairs because, seriously, would you keep a SWAT guy waiting? As I opened the door, there stood two SWAT guys, fully dressed for action, with their helmets and rifles. They asked me very politely if I would turn off my front porch light and back porch light, and of course I would! They apologized for waking me, and told me I’d be safe as long as I stayed in my house. This I promised I would do, and closed and locked the door, and turned off the front and back porch lights. (They were very gentlemanly, polite, and, frankly, self-contained and prepared for just about anything.)
I was still shaking when I got back to my spot by the window, which is when the action started. The megaphone was brought out and the occupants of 123 Anywhere Street were asked very forcefully to come out with their HANDS UP, or ELSE. This was repeated several times, “We know you’re in there, come out with your hands over your head, etc.”
Within five minutes, the door opened and out came a woman, who didn’t seem very motivated to put her hands on top of her head, but eventually, after repeated instructions, she did as she was told, and was escorted to the sidewalk in front of my house, at the corner, to wait for her ride. Then, directly she was settled on the sidewalk, out of the open door came a tall, solid man. He proceeded to shut the door behind him, in spite of being told not to. The SWAT guys made him put his hands on his head and walk backwards toward them, and handcuffed him and read him his rights. They put the handcuffed guy in a big, solid paddy wagon that suddenly showed up.
Then the woman told the SWAT team who else was in the apartment. More orders were shouted and eventually two more men came out as well.
Then, one by one, they put each person in a separate car, and both SWAT and police packed up their gear, the robots, and the cones, as well as the spike strips, and then, with much discussion about the location of and directions to the nearest Waffle House, drove away.
As SWAT and Police left, the sniper and his spotter packed up their gear, in perfect silence. As they walked below my window, they stated very quietly to each other that they thought there would be more action. I thought at the time that they meant that their presence was somewhat overkill to the situation, but orders were orders. I can only assume they were headed to the Waffle House also. The last two SWAT guys discussed the situation, and determined to leave three cop cars, six cops, and the other sniper (who I never even saw) in case there were any questions.
I never even saw, let alone heard, the black, unmarked car drive away from its location in front of my house.
Only then, after the street was returned to its usual suburban darkness and all the traces of the standoff were removed, and when everything was gone and over, the local news showed up, but the car stayed dark and I saw no reporters, so I went to bed.
The next morning, there were a few cones still in the street and one of the spike strips with nails in it. I checked in the afternoon, but there was only the briefest article about the incident, describing it as a “brief standoff” (an assailant had stabbed and punched someone and then hid out in his own house, but was arrested and taken away), but the article mentioned nothing about the amount of firepower at the scene or the need for SWAT and snipers.
The following is a diagram that lays out, to my best recollection, the location of all the cars, trucks, robots, and personnel that were there that night.
(P.S. I ended the night with a little crush on the sniper guy, because I figure that since I was on this side of the sniper instead of that side of him and his rifle, that I was, at that time, safer than I have ever been in my entire life.)
In spite of that excitement (and my ongoing, never-ending cold), as of November 7, 2015, my word NaNo word count is 8,126.