The Incident - a short story

This is a story inspired by all too many real events. At the same time it touches on gig work, the privatisation of everything, how institutions and bureaucracies protect themselves, and the dangers of militarised police. I hope you enjoy it. Whether you do or don't, feel free to share your opinion.

The Incident 

1. Aftermath

Jacob sat in the large office with floor to ceiling windows looking out across the city. Around the table with him were his line manager Brad, contract manager Sean, senior press officer Margaret, and chief investigator Iqbal. It was Iqbal who started the meeting. 

'Okay, so the reason we're here is the incident last week. Before I start, can I ask how you're holding up, Brad, Jacob?'

Brad replied, 'I'm fine. I think my report and the bodycam footage tell the story pretty clearly. There was an agitator who had to be suppressed, and that caused the mob to escalate their attacks on me and my men, and we reacted to quell the disorder.'

Iqbal turned to Jacob, who shook his head, 'Not great. I'd like to be back out there. It isn't just Nazgul, my other police contracts are on hold.'

'You do have the support package, financial, counselling, through the police union?' asked Iqbal.

'Sure,' said Jacob, 'The first payment should be Friday, and the counselling starts Tuesday next week. It's just a nuisance that I can't do the twelve sessions any quicker than once a week. I know it gets me back to work quicker than it would otherwise, but three months is a long time not working.'

Margaret replied, 'I understand how frustrating it must be, but on the plus side the story will have died down by then, and we'll have had time to shift the narrative. At present it's all about how the rioters were perfect little angels. And I'm aware they've got your face and name all over social media. but we can turn the conversation and bury all the chatter about you. Sean, you had something about safety?'

'Yes,' said Sean, 'This is Jude's area. Jude Brownlaw in the Safety and Protection team. Jacob's family are in a safe location. Jacob's staying in hotels for now, and has regular family meetups via Zoom. There are security teams watching the locations, and online and IRL messaging about Jacob is being monitored. Just to add, contractually all this is covered. We're well aware that civilians can deliberately escalate situations, and even seemingly normal people will suddenly flip and carry out what are effectively terrorist actions. In terms of the contractual requirements, both Brad and Jacob, and the rest of the team that day, will have to undergo refresher training, and do a certain number of less risky deployments. But we can effectively use those deployments as the training, which greatly reduces the time taken to return to full duties.'

Iqbal nodded, 'Great. The only other thing to cover is the firearms incident compensation. That will be delayed. Nothing too serious, just a legal issue to iron out. Technically we shouldn't have been involved. It was overlooked at the time, but Regul8, who were involved in the inciting incident, and ourselves, Nazgul, ultimately have the same private equity partner, Glow. It isn't insuperable, we just need to make a clear demarcation between our two companies. That shouldn't be too difficult, Regul8 specialise in immigration and gangs, and they have different contracts and management structures with very little overlap. On the other hand we specialise in civil disorder and crowd control. We're also the longer established firm and were spun out from the old police force that existed at that time. And none of our team involved on the day have ever worked for Regul8. Does anyone have anything else to add?'

Everyone shook their heads, 'Great,' said Iqbal, ' Then this meeting is over. We'll reconvene in a couple of weeks for an update.'

2. The Incident 

Jacob Hall rolled over and in the dark groped for his work phone which was shrilling at him. Pulling it close to his face he saw the alert was from Nazgul, one of the private police forces he contracted with.

'Civil disturbance in progress. Your attendance is required. Failure to accept may affect future opportunities. Report to Stonewick district by 05:20,' read the message. Jacob swiped the 'Yes' button and sat up out of bed. No time to shower. He dressed in Nazgul's nondescript quasi-military uniform, complete with bulletproof vest, helmet, and guns. Making his way to his car Jacob opened up the apps for Blues and Protektr, his two other police contracts, and entered to the codes to indicate he was on a job. Then, putting a donut between his teeth and throwing the bag with the rest of them onto the passenger seat, he drove out with a roar of the engine, his tall SUV rocking slightly. 

En-route, Jacob put in his earbuds and called Brad, his line manager, 'Hi Brad, what's up?'

'Hi Jake. Protesters. Yesterday Regul8 were sweeping a school and one of their contractors broke a kid's jaw pushing him out of the way. Some of the fucking radical parents decided to protest. They've been there all night. The city want it ended now. Obviously they can't use Regul8 or anyone who contracts with them. How close are you?'

Jacob glanced at his phone, 'Seven minutes,' he said. 

'Great,' said Brad, 'Report to me when you're here. Your paid time will start with the tactical brief.'

'Got it,' replied Jacob, and hung up. 

Within six minutes Jacob had pulled up alongside other SUVs without licence plates and joined a group of other men in the same uniform gathered at one end of the suburban street. The only identification any of them wore was a QR code, in most cases part, or wholly covered by a strap. All wore body mounted cameras, and all knew they were just theatre. They worked but in twelve years there had never been a prosecution of an independent officer based on footage from the cameras. After a couple more officers joined the group Brad started his briefing. 

'Yesterday Regul8 visited Stonewick College and detained a small number of pupils for immigration violations and suspicious online behavior. One student got up in the team's business, got pushed, and broke his jaw. That blew up the situation and parents and children started obstructing and endangering officers by filming and photographing them to post on social media. They've been outside the school all night and are still there, creating a risk to public safety. It is your job to disperse the crowd and restore order by all reasonable means. Understood?'

'Yes,' the men roared back. Brad smiled. 

'Good,' he said, 'Go to it. Hall, Prescott, Davis, you take the western end of the street. James, Smith, Nairn, you take the eastern end of the street. Foxton, Brill, Miller, in front of the school. Hesketh, Allen, White and myself will cover the rest of the ground. If you need backup at any point call us. If it needs a heavier response use your emergency channel. Let's rock 'n' roll.'

The men split into their groups and approached their designated zones, shouting at the gathered parents, children, observers and bystanders to fall back and disperse. A few light missiles were thrown in the lawmen's direction, but for the most part the bulkily armored men pointing their weapons into the crowd caused them to retreat, though shouts of 'Fascists!', 'Shame!', and 'Fuck off, pigs!' continued. 

Despite his protective equipment and guns, Jacob felt nervous facing the dozen or so angry protesters at that end of the street. It was a road that crossed over a major arterial route, meaning traffic might potentially come from three directions. Four, if you counted the road behind. The other end, the eastern end, just joined a residential street that ran across it and was relatively quiet. The school was closer to that end, about two-thirds of the way down from Jacob. Brad and his crew were roaming the rest of the street, waving residents and passers-by back onto the pavement or into their houses. 

Jacob scanned the motley crowd milling around in front of him, looking for potential threats. There were two agitated women shouting loudly, one filming the officers. A young black teenager darted around with what looked like a glass bottle in his hand. A large, red-faced man kept approaching Jacob and his companions then withdrawing. Then there were the quiet men, the kind who might suddenly snap and do something stupid. Most of the mob were Asian, probably Indian, Jacob thought. 

An older woman approached Jacob and his crew, 'Why are you here,' she asked, 'Don't you see you're escalating the situation?' 

'Ma'am,' said Jacob, 'Please step back. Yesterday's incident will be investigated by the independent oversight board. Any concerns you have can be put to them once they make the call for witnesses. At present you and your neighbours are creating a public disturbance. If you can all go back to your homes we can get out of your hair, and the situation can return to normal.'

The woman flushed and started to talk, but she was drowned out by the red-faced man stepping forward and shouting, 'Bullshit!'. Nevin Prescott stepped in front of the man, raising his hand,

'Sir, I have to ask you to step back.'

The man stepped forward again, 'Make me,' he said. Nevin raised his gun. At the same moment, from somewhere in the crowd a chant started, soon picked up by everyone, then spreading to the other groups.

'Killer cops, off our streets! Killer cops, off our streets!'

All the officers in all four groups tensed and prepared for action, focusing even harder on the protesters in front of them. A more dangerous standoff was developing. Almost simultaneously the officers in every part of the street began advancing slowly on their respective groups of protesters, shouting, 'Get back get off the road! Get back!' The people hesitated then retreated a little. Then a little more, and back onto the pavements.

There was a shout behind Jacob. He whipped around to see a cyclist burst past the men at the eastern end of the street. Two or three shots cracked the air, the bike wobbled, fell and skidded, the cyclist limp and apparently dead. Suddenly a bottle broke on the ground near Jacob's feet. He spun back to see the black boy advanced into the road reaching into the front of his jeans. Instantly Jacob raised his gun and fired at the same time as yelling, 'Drop it! Get back on the pavement!' The boy crumpled, dropping the phone he'd pulled out, blood gushing from him. 

Then there was bedlam. Protesters shouting and throwing whatever they could, stones, paving slabs, random debris off the road and pavement. The officers fired back and the rioters who weren't killed or injured ran away. It was over quickly. Six people lay dead, four were badly injured. None of the police were seriously hurt. A man, knee shattered by a bullet yelled, 'Fucking murderers! Pigs! Murderers!'

'Sir, calm down sir,' said Brad, approaching him. The man threw a half brick in his direction and spat disdainfully. Both fell short.

'Fuck off pig!'

Brad approached him almost at a run and kicked him in the face. The man fell back, silent, spitting blood, 'Cunt!' he muttered.