The Night Shift

The briefing room slowly filled with officers ready to begin the ten-six night shift, not one of them in full uniform. Briefings had slowly but surely become casual affairs, where officers seemed unconcerned by missing ties, jackets, radios, epaulettes and other essential items of kit . It had not always been like this. There was a time, before the new 'Super' arrived, when turning up for briefing in anything but the full monty would have been a serious mistake; one never taken lightly by recently retired Chief Inspector 'Bull' Maddox. Now however, things had somehow become much slacker all round.

PC Rob Bennett suddenly and violently evicted the contents of his sinuses into a large spotted handkerchief and then stared at his handiwork with some admiration.
'Bloody hell Rob, when are you going to get rid of that cold. It's been dragging on for weeks?' said WPC Cath Green, casually fastening her shirt collar and fitting her clip on tie. 'If you give that to me, you can start brewing your own tea.'
'As soon as I can get off this chuffing ten-six shift', growled Rob. 'I only volunteered for it to help out and look what it got me; a lousy cold and town centre beat. I should be back on front desk where I belong.'
'The knackers yard is where you belong,' quipped Ben Watson, a young probationer in his first posting. 'It's time you veterans retired and left policing  to those better equipped for the job.'
'Listen, you cheeky little bugger..'

Before Rob could complete his rebuke the door bust open and in walked Sergeant Dave Watson, followed by the new 'Super', Aiden Cummings.
'Good evening boys and girls. I trust you are all fit and ready to fight crime this evening?' 
Smiling as he spoke, Dave Watson threw his briefing notes down and assumed his position at the head of the table. The new boss sat to one side as if to defer to his sergeant.
'Right, first things first. Who's responsible for the smart arse comments scrawled across next week's rota? I know things have got a little slack around here lately, but that sort of thing will not be tolerated.' 
Furtive glances and a few smirks passed between the ten officers gathered around the table, but nobody was about to own up.
'Let this be a warning to you all,' continued Dave Watson, 'there are going to be changes around here, big style, and Superintendent Cummings has very kindly called in this evening to have a few words with you all. Over to you sir.'

Aiden Cummings, a tall and ruddy faced man of military bearing, sat silently for a while, looking down the table at the assembled group. For a few seconds his inscrutable gaze engaged each officer as his laser like intensity arced slowly around the table. 
'As you all know,' he said in a quiet but confident manner, 'I'm the new boy on 

the team. I don't know you and you don't know me. That's about to change.'
The earlier furtive glances that had passed between the ten-six shift a few seconds earlier slowly changed; replaced by anxious anticipation.
 
'When I arrived here six weeks ago I decided that I would allow myself time to observe and assess before I formed any opinions. That process is now complete and I have to say to you all that standards within this station fall far below anything I expected. If you all thought that Chief Inspector Maddox's standards were high, you will be shocked when you discover those I'm about to impose.'
Silence dominated the room as the new boss paused to milk dramatic effect.  
'I will now leave this room and return in precisely ten minutes. Any officer not in full and correct uniform on my return will be suspended from duty, pending disciplinary proceedings. Is that clear?'
The impact of this statement was so effective that the stunned collective was not able to immediately respond to the question.
'Is that clear?' repeated Superintendent Cummings.
A cascade of 'yes sirs' trickled from the far end of the table, each one reflecting varying degrees of disbelief.

As the new boss strode purposefully from the room, chairs scuffed away from the table as the ten-six shift began to collect their thoughts and their items of uniform.
'Bloody hell Serge, who's rattled his cage?', asked Cath Green.
'He's only doing his job Cath, and it's about time too. This place was beginning to go to pot.'
'It's always the same,' griped Rob Bennet as he admired a second contribution to his handkerchief, 'yet another new boss trying to impress the top brass.' 
'He is the top brass you pillock. He doesn't have to impress anybody; not in this station anyway. I suggest that you all get yourselves sorted very quickly before you find yourselves in serious trouble.' 

Without warning the strip lights in the briefing room flickered and with a few creaks and clonks the room was plunged into darkness.
'That's all we need,' sighed Dave Watson, 'a power cut means trouble.'
'You can say that again,' muttered Rob Bennett as he switched on his regulation torch, 'every villain in the town will be looking to take advantage of this windfall'
'Delta two to control, how extensive an area does this power cut cover?' enquired Sergeant Watson into his personal radio.
'We're making enquiries as we speak Serge,' replied control, safe in the knowledge that their equipment was secured by emergency generator. 'The Superintendent is here with us at the moment and he asks that you get the troops out onto the streets asap; he'll spot check them later.' 
 
'Right boys and girls, let's have you out there pronto. No shirking and no quiet bevies in the usual hideaways. Don't forget; I know them all, and if I catch anyone at it tonight it'll be a disciplinary. If the Super catches you it'll be much much worse.'

Sighs of resignation filled the room as the shift reluctantly made moves to get themselves together, switch on their torches and take up their respective beats.

New boy Ben Watson and his partner for the night Cath Green made their way by torchlight down to the ground floor and out into the rear yard. 
'My turn or yours?' enquired Cath.
'It's mine as you well know,' replied Ben, you drove last night and a right pigs ear you made of it. I thought we'd never catch that runner on the estate.'
'You couldn't have done any better, he was on a moped and went places I couldn't follow.'
'True, but that's to be expected; so you anticipate and improvise.'
Listen smart arse, there's a big difference between what they teach you in training and what happens out on the street.'
'There is when you're driving, but tonight you can watch a master at work,' quipped Ben as he pointed and pressed the key fob. The indicators on the car flashed in response and the pair were quickly inside.
'Look at this mess, it's like a midden in here,' sighed Cath as she scanned the interior. 'I can guess who drove this last. I'll bet a pound to a penny it was that slob Rob Bennett.' 
'It can't have been, he's just booked on with us. Look in the log book and see who's just logged this off on the day shift.'
Cath had already picked up the mileage log from the dashboard and was flicking through to the current page.
'Well ,well would you look at this,' gasped Cath in disbelief, 'the last user was the new Super.'
'I wouldn't have taken him for a Fanta, Snickers and burger man,' said Ben as he picked up the polystyrene box, empty pop can and other assorted detritus from the floor and flung the lot dismissively onto the rear seat.
'It's no good chucking them in the back like that,' sighed Cath, 'if we make an arrest tonight we'll need the back seat.' 
'We don't want to be doing that Cath, I want a nice quiet night tonight,' said Ben, 'with no arrests, no paperwork and no aggro. In fact I think we should make straight for the back room in Frank's Chippy and make a start on the free tea and chips.'
'Do you know Ben,' sighed Cath with a fabricated air of authority,'for a rookie in his first job you're unbelieveable. I suggest you shift that junk from the back seat, take it over to the bin and then get this show on the road; we've got work to do.'

Having reluctantly done exactly as he was instructed, Ben steered the beat car out of the rear yard and on to the street. The total lack of street lighting or illuminated shop frontages, or any vestige of a moon that night had created an eerie feeling; something neither occupant was used to in a usually busy city centre. 
'Wow, this is a bit weird,' said Ben. 'You can normally see this place from outer 

space at this time of night.'
Cath's personal radio suddenly burst into life..'471 from Delta two; are you receiving, over?'
'Loud and clear Serge; what's up?'
'Are you and Boy Wonder out on the streets yet?'
'Yes serge, we're out on patrol and open for business.'
'Good, we've just had reports of a disturbance at the Bull's Head on West Street. Get over there pronto and do something about it will you?'
'On our way Serge.'

At this, Boy Wonder switched on the blues and twos, dropped into third gear and accelerated towards their destination.
 
'There's no need for all this Ben,' said Cath, 'it'll be like Dodge City when we get there. Slow down, switch the blues off and let it develop a bit.'
'What do you mean develop a bit; there might be a right punch up for all we know?'
'Exactly,' replied Cath with confidence, 'if there is, and knowing the Bull there will be, we want to arrive when they've beaten each other to a pulp; not while they're in full flow. I'm not just a pretty face you know. Listen to the voice of experience and learn.'
'Good thinking,' responded Ben as a broad smile lit up the dark interior.' That way we keep out of trouble and leave the mopping up to the beat man who should arrive before we do.'
'Spot on,' replied Cath with smug satisfaction, 'proceed with dignity and authority,' At this, she too beamed with pride.

As they swung into West Street their headlights arced across the front of the public house. What they illuminated was not what the two had expected. A flailing ball of humanity had just burst through the front doors with fists, feet and heads coming into contact with anything within range. It was immediately followed by a coven of screaming women who were either lashing out at anything available or hurling obscenities into the drunken brawl taking place in front of them. 
'Bloody Norah,' shouted Ben, 'I don't like the look of this. We're the first on scene and we'll have to do something about it.'

At that moment a bar stool crashed through one of the front windows and fell to the ground in the company of hundreds of pieces of expensive coloured glass. 
'You just stay where you are,' instructed Cath. 'There's no way we're getting ourselves in amongst that lot. Not just yet anyway.'
The rear door flew open and in jumped Rob Bennett the town centre beat man. 
'Am I glad to see you two, he gasped breathlessly, 'I thought I was going to have to tackle this lot on my own. I've just had a quick look through the side window as I arrived and it's like something from a cowboy film in there. There must be thirty of them going at it like loonies; all by candle light.'

'Well we're not doing anything until reinforcements arrive,' responded Cath in a      
determined manner. 'Get onto control and get the troops here....oh! and don't forget the dog van. We need Prince like we've never needed him before.'
 'Good idea Cath,' added Ben, 'that evil looking Alsatian eats people. He'll 
quieten things down a bit; even his Snapper's scared of him.'  

Minutes passed following the urgent radio request, as the three officers sat in the car and impassively watched the scene unfold in their car headlights. A second bar stool emerged into the street followed by an ashtray and a number of assorted bottles.
'Wow, look at that huge bloke in the middle of that lot. He must be six foot six and twenty five stones and they're bouncing off him like hailstones,' said Cath with a sense of admiration. 'Which one of you is going to arrest him?'
'Not me,' said Rob hastily, 'we'll let Prince deal with him; soften him up a bit.'
'You can leave him to me,' said Ben Watson trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, 'the bigger they are, the harder they fall.'
'We'll have those famous last words etched onto your headstone,' chuckled Cath.' I doubt you could even get near him.'
'I'll have you know I've got a black belt in origami,' quipped Ben with a smile.       'I could give him a really nasty fold.'

At that moment the divisional transit van swung dramatically into West Street and screeched to a halt alongside them, quickly followed by PC 'Snapper' Wainwright in the dog van. Four officers piled out of the rear of the van, one of them yanking open the driver's door on the beat car.
'This looks interesting Ben, shall we all pile in and sort it out?'
'I don't think that's a good idea mate,' replied Ben knowingly. ' Get Snapper to unleash his wolf on that big bugger in the middle there.'
'No need; it looks as if Snapper's already made a start.'

As they spoke, Snapper shot past the Astra, clinging on to Prince's leash for dear life as the huge black Alsatian bounded across the road. This dog loved his work, and once he'd made a start there was no stopping him. The black wolf dragged PC Wainwright straight past the pavement action and both dog and handler hurtled through the open pub doors, disappearing from sight.

'Hells bells', shouted Cath to the assembled constabulary, 'we can't let Snapper in there on his own, he won't stand a chance.'
'Oh! I don't know,' responded the van driver, 'he seems to be doing OK so far. Just look at that!'

Just then an assortment of horrified patrons burst through the open doorway and dispersed into the darkness as fast as sheer terror would allow. Screams from within could be heard, accompanied by frenzied barking as a second batch of horrified combatants escaped into the night.
Snapper emerged triumphant from within and immediately directed his canine assassin towards the six foot six giant, still hurling his relentless assailants in all directions.
 
'This'll be interesting,' said Ben Watson as Prince buried his fangs into the 
giant's groin, 'my money's on the wolf.'
The giant screamed in agony, dropping his most recent victim like a rag doll 
onto the pavement whilst frantically trying to shake off the dog. Seizing the advantage, Snapper kicked the giant's legs from beneath him and hurled 
himself onto his chest, pinning him to the ground. 

'Right lads,' shouted Ben,'this is where we get involved. Let's give Snapper a hand.'
Five PCs rushed across the street; three into the pub and two to Snapper's assistance.
'Get the cuffs on him,' screamed Snapper, 'I can't restrain him much longer.'
'Call the dog off Snapper,' cried Rob Bennett, 'before this bloke starts singing soprano.'
'Not until we get the cuffs on,' grunted Snapper turning more purple by the second with the effort.

With the combined efforts of three PCs and a dog, the giant was somehow rolled onto his front. As two men sat on him, the third attempted to put the cuffs around his huge wrists.
 'They won't bloody fit,' gasped Rob Bennett, now also purple faced through the sheer effort of struggling with stubborn resistance. 'You'll have to hold him while I get a cable tie from the car.'
'Here's one I made earlier,' shouted Cath as she approached the action from the other side of the road. 'I thought you might need this.'
Rob Bennett gratefully snatched the cable tie from Cath's outstretched hand and quickly tightened it into place. 

Five minutes later, with the giant and three other arrests safely in the back of the van, peace was finally restored.

 'It'll be a while before this place is open for business again,' quipped Cath, 'It looks like the aftermath of a tsunami in there.'
 'It's a shame they had to pick the Bull's Head,' said Ben, 'It's one of our best back room hideouts for a quiet cuppa. We'll have to find somewhere else tonight.'
'Control to all officers; can anyone attend an alarm at the chemists in New Street?'
PCs Ben Watson and Cath Green looked at each other and smiled.
'Come on Boy Wonder,' said Cath, 'the tea's on hold for a while. Rob was right, it's going to be a busy night.'