pjbooks Chapter 1 Trainee Police Officer
Chapter 1 Trainee Police Officer
Chapter 1 Trainee Police Officer
A police car was driving on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, New York. Link was at the wheel; as a trainee officer, it wasn't easy for him to get his hands on the steering wheel.
Sitting in the passenger seat was his instructor, Detective Rami Belon, though he was in plainclothes today.
During the year-long internship, the instructor will spend a day dressed in plainclothes, sitting silently in the passenger seat, while the trainee officers patrol and handle all the cases they encounter.
This point in time is basically when the internship period is about to end. Many trainee police officers will stumble here, thus saying goodbye to their hard-working police life of the past few months.
Link remained calm, driving the police car along the same patrol route he had used for the past few months, conducting his routine patrol.
He was lucky today; he didn't receive a single police report or encounter any traffic violations.
The police car arrived at an intersection, and the traffic light ahead turned red. Link parked the police car behind a Ford sedan, then reached into the car's computer and entered the license plate number of the vehicle in front.
Randomly checking license plates is a common practice because there are so many vehicles in the United States, and many of them do not meet the standards for roadworthiness.
In addition, there are a large number of wanted criminals and fugitives who drive vehicles. Random checks have been verified, and it is indeed possible to find them.
"Huh?" Link was stunned after entering the license plate number. There was no information about the vehicle in front in the police database. This was serious.
However, he didn't immediately turn on the siren and lights because parking was not allowed here. So, after the traffic light turned green, Link followed the other vehicle.
They only turned on the police lights and sirens when there were fewer vehicles ahead.
"Whoa..." As soon as the siren sounded, the driver in front saw the police car behind and immediately turned on his turn signal. Link also turned on his turn signal at the same time, blocking the lane behind the other vehicle to prevent any other vehicles from rushing over and causing a rear-end collision, which was a kind of protection for the car in front.
However, Linka drove a little further away to maintain a safe distance, and only after the other vehicle came to a complete stop did he unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car.
Link's right hand rests on the holster on his right hip, where he holds a Glock 19, a pocket version of the Glock 17, but still equipped with a standard 15-round magazine. He has two spare magazines on his left hip.
Link was on the left, positioned to the side and rear of the other driver's seat, using the vehicle's B-pillar for protection, while his instructor was on the right.
The other party had already rolled down the car window and taken out their driver's license. Only then did Link realize that the driver was a Black woman, but she was dressed very formally, so she probably had a formal job.
Link didn't immediately take the other woman's driver's license. Instead, he bent down and looked at her, saying, "Madam, the reason I stopped your vehicle is because I couldn't find any information about this car in the police database."
As a police officer, he must explain to the other party the reason for ordering them to stop.
The Black woman didn't panic; instead, she asked, "Why are you checking my license plate?"
Her question was very leading; if Link didn't give a sufficient reason, she could countersue him for alleged racial discrimination.
Link remained calm and refused to take the other party's driver's license, as he had not ordered the other party to produce their documents.
"Random checks. I happened to stop right behind you at the previous traffic light, and then I entered the license plate number of the vehicle in front. This is standard procedure for our police force," Link said. "Of course, it's not just that one situation. There are also cases like motels that haven't been properly registered, or vehicles driving suspiciously, etc."
"Random sampling is a common method."
"Understood." The woman nodded, but she still held up her driver's license.
Link then asked, "Is this car yours?"
"No, this is my company car," the woman said. "It's an official vehicle."
"Okay, please show me your driver's license." After Link finished speaking, he reached out and took the driver's license, looked at it, and then turned around and walked back to his police car.
This Black woman is definitely from a government department, maybe even a legal department. The conversation is full of traps; even a seasoned veteran might not be able to handle it.
However, if she encounters me, she shouldn't even think about causing trouble; I'm no ordinary person.
Link called the front desk to check the license plate information. At the same time, he entered the woman's ID into the car's computer, and sure enough, the woman was a prosecutor from the local court.
The central dispatch also couldn't find the license plate information. Link suggested that the central dispatch inquire with the local court, and this time they obtained information that the vehicle was a classified vehicle.
This matter is not under Link's jurisdiction. Although such cases are rare, they are problematic and disconnected from the police database, but it is not something that a trainee officer like Link can handle.
Returning with the other person's driver's license, Link said, "Ma'am, you can go now."
"No problems?" The woman was still playing with words.
"After verification by headquarters, this vehicle is a confidential vehicle of the local court," Link said. "The local court has given its assurances, so you have no further problems and can leave now."
"Understood, but I reserve the right to pursue this matter." This woman probably felt she'd lost face, right?
"Of course, that's your right." Link said, then turned and left, ignoring him completely.
His instructor, Rami Belon, remained silent. The two returned to the car, Link started the vehicle, and continued his patrol.
This was a day shift, but they worked for twelve hours straight, not returning to the police station until 8 p.m. However, they were immediately called over by the captain.
"Tell me what happened today," the captain said bluntly. It seemed the prosecutor had indeed called.
Link recounted the events, and then Rami Belon did the same. After listening, the captain felt there was no problem.
Link then added, "When the license plate number was checked, it was at the entrance to the XXX traffic light; the surveillance cameras there should have captured it."
"I understand, you two can go home now!" The captain waved them away.
Link didn't ask about his performance today; that was the instructor's business. As long as he wasn't expelled tomorrow, there probably wouldn't be any problems.
There were no problems. Link quickly became a full-fledged police officer, but he was transferred from his current police station to the West Midtown Precinct, which is the infamous Hell's Kitchen.
Link didn't complain, appeal, or shout about how unfair it was. Instead, he simply packed up his storage box, tidied his police uniform, and left without a care in the world.
Hell's Kitchen is a dangerous place with numerous gangs, rampant crime, and constant gang warfare.
(End of this chapter)