"May I see your
driver's license and registration, please?" California Highway Patrolman
Jon Baker asked the driver of the red van he'd just pulled over.
"What for?" the driver snapped. "What did I do?"
"You were doing 65 sir. That's 10 miles over the speed limit. I'm going to
have to cite you." Jon explained as politely as possible.
As the driver handed over his license and registration, he let loose with a
stream of obscenities that made Jon wince. The blond officer walked back to his
motor, shaking his head at his partner, Frank Poncherello.
"Some people." he muttered, reaching for his radio.
Ponch just grinned. "Hey partner, it takes all kinds."
"Yeah, but if I ever become that kind, shoot me, and put me out of my
misery." Jon replied, walking back to the van.
"Hey, you want to put that in writing?" Ponch called after him.
Jon ignored him. "Okay sir, just sign here. It's not an admission of
guilt, just a promise that you will appear in court." he handed the driver
his license and registration back.
Cursing, the driver scrawled his name and handed the pinch book back to Jon.
After making sure everything was in order, Jon handed the driver his ticket.
"Have a nice day, and drive safely." He winced again at another
stream of obscenities. Sighing, he walked back to his motor, tossed his pinch
book back into the saddlebag, and reached for his helmet.
"I dunno Ponch. What is it with these people? Don't they know we're trying
to save lives out here? Ponch?"
Ponch wasn't listening. "Unbelievable!"
Jon followed his gaze. Across the freeway, in the northbound rest area, four
bikini clad models and two photographers were setting up a photo shoot. The
sudden screech of tires on pavement let the two officers know they weren't the
only ones who'd noticed.
"Great. Just great. Betcha anything they don't have a permit." Jon
sighed and started his motor.
"Only one way to find out. " Ponch grinned and sped off, Jon close
behind.
* * * * * *
Jon sighed as he and Ponch pulled into the rest area. "Ponch, you handle
the traffic."
"What? C'mon Baker, it's your turn to handle that!" Ponch protested.
But Jon was already headed over to the group. As Ponch watched him begin to
argue with the photographer, he shook his head. Something was bothering his
partner.
"Hey, c'mon!" he shouted to a slow moving van, "let's keep it
moving!"
He looked up again to find the photographer and his models gone.
"That was fast." Ponch said, waving an 18 wheeler through.
"Yeah, well, I made it clear I was in no mood to argue. Let's get some
lunch."
* * * * *
"C'mon Ponch, hurry up. We're gonna be late for briefing."
"Take it easy, partner. We'll make it." Ponch replied, swallowing the
last of his Megaburger, "we've still got half an hour. Now you wanna tell
me what's bugging you?"
Jon looked away for a moment. "Nothing, why?"
Ponch looked straight into his partners blue eyes. "C'mon Jon. This is
Ponch you're talking to. I know you better than that. What is it, woman troubles?"
Jon laughed. "Uh, no Ponch, I'm doing just fine."
Ponch sipped his soda and grinned. "Oh that's right, I forgot, you
actually like staying home."
Jon didn't answer. "C'mon old buddy, what is it?"
Jon adjusted his baton and sighed. "I'm just tired, that's all."
"What's wrong, don't you sleep at night?"
Jon picked up his soda and took a long drink. "No, that's not what I
meant. I'm tired of the smog, the traffic, the ungrateful people. Do you think
I enjoy being cussed out for writing a ticket?"
"C'mon Jon. I hear ya, but relax. It gets to everyone now and then."
"Yeah, I know. But this is different. I'm not in this line of work for the
fame and fortune, but a little respect now and then would be nice."
Ponch made a fist and leaned his cheek against it. "Yeah, I know. It gets
to me too partner."
Jon finished his burger and made a face. "We have got to find some place
new for lunch. I don't think my stomach can take much more of this."
"What are you talking about? This place has the best burgers in
L.A.!" Ponch protested, straightening up..
Jon grinned as he stood up. "Now that's a depressing thought. Let's
go."
* * * * * *
Twenty minutes later they walked into briefing. Grossie looked up as they took
their seats.
"Hey guys. Have you heard the latest?"
"Nope," Jon replied, leaning on his helmet, "but I've got a
feeling you're going to tell us."
"The National Highway Patrolman's convention is being held in New York
City this year!"
"Big deal. I never go to those things." Ponch scoffed. "I know,
but isn't New York City supposed to be the most exciting city in the
world?" Grossie asked.
Jon grinned. "Depends on what you consider exciting, Grossie."
Joe Getraer walked in, a thick notebook under one arm. He set it on the podium
and opened it. "Okay, listen up. We've been getting reports of drag racing
on the unopened strip of the Harbor freeway. Now we aren't talking a bunch of
wild kids here. Word is we're dealing with expensive cars, very expensive cars.
Last report was of a Jaguar racing a Lamborgini. Keep your eyes open. There may
be more going on there than meets the eye."
"Drugs Sarge?" Barry Baricza asked.
"Could be Bear. One of the cars seen racing was reported stolen. It was
found abandoned in Malibu. Word is there were traces of cocaine found in it.
Okay, next item. I need 3 officers for a traffic detail on Melrose. They're
repaving part of it Saturday. It will be time and a half as usual. Anyone
interested stop by my office. Last item. The National Highway Patrolman's Convention
is being held in New York City six weeks from now. All interested officers are
invited and encouraged to attend. Stop by my office for a registration packet.
Okay, that's all. Hit your beats."
* * * * *
Jon and Ponch sat on there motors by the side of the 405, keeping a watchful
eye on the northbound traffic. Jon was cleaning his windshield as Ponch
reclined on his motor and soaked up some sun.
"Ya know, Grossie's right. New York City is supposed to be pretty
exciting. After all it's the city that never sleeps." Ponch said.
Jon looked up. "And L.A. isn't? Sorry Ponch, but when I think excitement,
New York City isn't at the top of the list." he smiled and went back to
his windshield.
Ponch shook his head and grinned, pushing his sunglasses up. "Oh, what do
you country boys know about excitement anyway?"
Jon grinned. "That's funny... we usually say that about you city
boys." He threw the rag he was holding at him. Ponch caught it and tossed
it back, laughing.
"Seriously though," Jon said, stuffing the rag back in his saddlebag,
"you aren't thinking of going, are you?"
"I dunno. I've never been to one of the conventions before."
"Yeah, well I have. You think the scales are boring!" Jon reached for
his helmet.
"That bad huh?"
Jon was about to answer when the radio interrupted him. "Attention Harbor
units, be on the lookout for a black 1983 Dodge sedan, license Adam Nora 2685.
Vehicle is believed stolen. Last seen going northbound on the 405 near
Riverside. Units responding identify."
"Jon, look!" Ponch grabbed his helmet as the suspect vehicle sped by.
Jon started his motor and grabbed the radio. "L.A. 7-Mary 3-4 have suspect
vehicle in sight, northbound on the 405 near Glendale. We are now in
pursuit!"
"10-4 Mary 3."
Jon hit the gas and sped up behind Ponch, his siren wailing. The sedan swerved
in and out of traffic as it tried to out run them. Jon looked at his
speedometer, not liking what he saw. The needle was slowly
rising....70...75...80...85...90....
"This guy's nuts!" Ponch yelled.
"Nuts? He's possessed! And he's going to kill somebody if we don't stop
him!" Jon yelled back.
"Got any ideas?" Ponch asked.
"Look's like he's heading for the next off ramp. Let's get a roadblock
going up there!" Jon suggested.
"Go for it partner!"
"L.A. 7-Mary 3&4 still in pursuit of 10851 suspect, northbound 405.
Request additional units for roadblock!"
"10-4 Mary 3&4."
Minutes later, as they approached the off ramp, they saw two CHP cruisers
blocking the far end of it, parked nose to nose.
"We got him now!" Ponch yelled.
Jon was about to answer when a look of horror passed over his face. The sedan
wasn't stopping....in fact according to his speedometer, it was picking up
speed.
"What the hell is he doing?" Ponch yelled.
Jon grabbed the radio. "Bear, Jeb, get out of the way! He's not gonna
stop!"
They watched as the two officers scrambled out of their cars and dove into the
tall brush on the side of the road. Minutes later the sedan hit, filling the
air with the sickening crunch of metal grinding against metal. It went
airborne, flipping over, and then landed upright..then,with a roar, the
battered car disappeared. Jon was so absorbed in watching the spectacle
unfolding in front of him that he forgot about the roadblock in front of him.
At the last minute, he slammed his brakes, sending himself sprawling onto the
hood of Baricza's cruiser. Cursing softly to himself, he slowly slid off and
got to his feet.
"Jon man! You alright? You okay?" Ponch exclaimed.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Only my ego is bruised." Jon managed a brief smile.
"Man, I can't believe you did that. Now Ponch I can see, but you?"
Turner asked.
"Yeah, well I can't believe what I just saw."
"I just called it in. I'm not sure dispatch believed me." Baricza
said.
Ponch looked up as he get Jon's motor upright. "Just when you think you've
seen it all, something like this comes along."
Jon took his helmet off and looked into the sky, sighing. "He must have
been going 95 at least."
"I told ya Jon, he's crazy."
"Ponch, seems to me anyone willing to go to that length to avoid getting
stopped must really have something to hide."
"Would it help if we ran a check on all the hospitals? There's no way that
guy didn't bang himself up pulling that stunt." Turner suggested.
"Worth a shot, Jeb." Ponch replied.
Jon sighed. "C'mon Ponch, let's get going..we've got paperwork to
do."
As Turner and Baricza headed back to their cars, Ponch reached into his pocket
and pulled out a quarter. Jon rested his hands on his belt. "And what's
that for?"
"This is to decide who tells Getraer what happened."
* * * * *
"It what?? You expect me to believe a car busted through a roadblock and
just drove away, is that it? Baker, have you been eating Poncherello's Ding
Dongs??" Joe Getraer snapped.
"Sarge, it's the truth. Ask Jed and Barry. It was their cars he busted
through."
Joe ran
a hand over his face. "Wonderful. So I'm short two cruisers now?"
"Nah, Sarge, just a few dings and dents..." Ponch started.
"Dings and dents? Dings and dents?" cried an outraged voice behind
them. They turned around and found Harlan standing there, his hands on his
hips.
"Okay Harlan," Getraer said, "how bad is it?"
"Both cruisers are going to need new radiators, fenders, headlights,
batteries, a good body shop..."
"How long Harlan??" he interrupted.
"At least a few days. Maybe a week."
The sergeant sighed. "Okay Harlan, get to work." He turned to Jon and
Ponch. "You two get those reports done and then turn the whole thing over
to Auto Theft."
"No way Sarge. This guys mine." Jon replied firmly.
"Baker, need I remind you what your job is? Turn it over to Auto
Theft!"
Suddenly Grossie poked his head into the office. "Sarge, we just got a
report on that Sedan Jon and Ponch were chasing. It was just found up in the
Hollywood hills. There's a team going over it now."
"Thanks Grossman."
Jon grabbed his helmet. "Man, I need to get out of here."
"What's that, Baker?" Getraer asked.
"Nothing Sarge." Ponch replied, watching his partner leave,
"Things are starting to get to Jon."
"Things? What things Frank?"
"You know Sarge, the smog, the traffic, the lack of respect out
there."
"Well, if he wants a vacation he can always go to New York."
"Oh sure." Ponch replied, turning to leave. "No stress
there."
Ponch found Jon in the break room, staring into a cup of coffee. Ponch took a
seat across from him. "Hey man, what's going on? Why are you letting stuff
get to you so much?"
Jon looked up, his blue eyes dark, his voice troubled. He slouched in his chair
as he spoke. "I dunno Ponch. I just can't seem to shake this feeling. I'm
just so tired of it all."
"Jon, it's the nature of the job. People are never going to enjoy getting
cited. And I may be wrong, but I doubt L.A. will ever be smog free. "
Jon broke into a smile. "Yeah. "
Ponch leaned on his helmet. "Jon, what was it you used to say, about this
job, about the peaks and valleys? You're in a valley, man, that's all."
Before Jon could answer, Getraer poked his head in. "Frank, I almost
forgot to tell you. The verdict came in on the Buckley case. "
Ponch straightened up. Richard Buckley was a man Ponch had busted for drunk
driving. Ponch had been in and out of court for three weeks, battling
continuances. "Yeah, so how long did he get?" he asked.
Getraer sighed. "He copped a plea, Frank. He got a fine and
probation."
"What?? This is some kind of a joke, right?"
"Sorry Frank. I know how badly you wanted this. Maybe next time,
huh?"
Ponch watched him leave. "Unbelievable. What good is it busting these guys
if the courts aren't going to do anything but put them back on the roads? I
just don't get it partner. "
"Believe, me Ponch, I know how you feel. But think about all the guys we
have put away," he sipped his coffee, "I think we've got a pretty
good record."
Ponch suddenly broke out into a grin. "Hey, I thought I was supposed to be
giving you the pep talk. "
Jon finished his coffee and tossed the cup into the garbage. "You did.
Thanks. Maybe I am taking things too seriously. I think I'm going to put in for
some vacation time."
"Hey, I know a way for you to save your vacation time and still get a
vacation." Ponch said mischievously.
"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but how's that?"
"I have it on good authority that the department is offering all expense
paid trips to New York City."
Jon looked heavenward. "Ponch, I already told ya, I'm not interested in
the convention, or New York City for that matter. It's just not cup of
tea."
"Jon, you're not giving the place a chance. It's nothing like L.A. Has it
ever occurred to you that you might actually enjoy it?"
"The city or the convention?" Jon asked with a grin.
"Both, man! Look, we both need a change of scenery, right? C'mon Jon, you
want to get away from all this, New York's about as far as you can get. It
could even be fun."
Jon looked thoughtful. "I have always wanted to see the Museum of Natural
History. And Maybe we could take in a Yankees game..."
"Now you're talking partner!" Ponch grinned.
"I don't believe I'm actually letting you talk me into this." Jon
said, trying to hide a smile.
"Maybe he can talk you into hitting your beats too." Getraer's voice
said as he walked by.
Ponch laughed. "C'mon partner."
* * * *
"Hey," Jon said later as they rode down the Harbor Freeway, "you
never told me why you're so high on this trip. Since when do you like
conventions?"
"It's not the what, ol buddy, it's the where...New York City! I used to
spend summer vacation their when I was a kid.... my grandparents used to live
there. Man, I used to think it was the most exciting place on earth. Better
than Disneyland!"
Jon laughed at his partner's excitement.
"Attention Harbor Units, 11-83 just occurred Northbound near Culver. Units
responding identify."
"L.A 7-Mary 3&4 responding. ETA of 10."
* * * *
When they got there, they found a single car, a green Chevy, lying sideways
along the guardrail. Jon called in for a tow truck and paramedics while Ponch
ran to the wreck. He got to his knees and yanked the battered door open. As he
did, the smell of cheap whiskey nearly knocked him over.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked
"Just ducky officer!" the driver, a pudgy man in his early 40's
replied, his words slurred,blood from the gash in his head dripping onto the
lapel of his blue suit.
"Can you move?" Jon said, joining them.
"Oh sure!" the driver replied cheerfully. Together, the two officers
pulled the driver out.
"What's your name?" Jon asked, making a face as the driver opened his
mouth to reply and another wave of cheap booze assaulted them.
"Roger. Roger S. King Esquire!" the man replied proudly.
"Mr. King, how much have you had to drink today?"
"Oh just a little bit. A teensy weensy bit."
Jon rolled his eyes as the paramedics pulled up. "What do we got,
Jon?" asked one of them.
"Just cuts and bruises, Keith," Jon replied, "and about 90
proof."
"Yeah," Ponch added, "you and Amy are gonna need your oxygen
masks with this one." he grinned.
Jon eyed the smoking car. "Hope that fire unit gets here soon."
"They were right behind us." called Keith.
As they directed traffic around the scene, they watched as Mr. King was
treated. Jon stopped in mid-wave as he saw him reach into his jacket and pull
out a small bottle of whiskey. As the two paramedics tried to take it away from
him, he got angry and suddenly hurled it toward the wreckage.
"Damn!" Jon cursed, running toward them, Ponch on his heels.
"Get down!" he shouted.
The bottle hit the car and shattered, instantly igniting, with a good sized
explosion. Ponch looked up from where he'd dived, and glanced toward the two
paramedics. "You guys okay?"
"We're fine." Keith replied, shaking his head as the Engine pulled
up.
Jon sat up. He'd dived next to Ponch when the explosion hit. "You okay
Ponch?"
"I'm fine partner. But I can't wait to book that guy."
Jon nodded. "And after that, let's catch the next flight to New
York."
Ponch grinned as they walked over to Mr. King. The paramedics had finished with
him, and he was standing there, staring at his burning car. As Jon and Ponch
approached, he turned to them, a contrite look on his flushed face.
"Oops."
*****
"Man, what do they want, our whole life story?" Jon exclaimed from
the patio, looking at the thick registration packet he was holding.
Ponch laughed as the doorbell rang. "Food's here." They were at
Ponch's apartment, filling out their paperwork for the convention.
"Hey, how much do I owe ya?" Jon asked, walking inside, reaching for
his wallet.
Ponch scanned the receipt the delivery boy handed him. "10 bucks."
Jon handed him two crisp five dollar bills and stuffed his wallet back in his
jacket.
"What, no tip?" Ponch asked with a grin.
Jon laughed. He opened up one of the bags and began unpacking steaming cartons
of Chinese food. "Ponch, what did you do? Order one of everything?"
Ponch paused as he reached for some plates. "Not everything."
"Oh, I forgot, this is dinner for you for the next month, right?" Jon
grinned.
"A month? No way. 2, 3 weeks tops."
They filled their plates and went back out to the patio. It was a beautiful
evening. The air was warm, the breeze soft, and the setting sun bathed the
boats in the marina in a pink purple glow.
"Okay," Jon said after swallowing a spoonful of Egg Drop soup,
"I think I've got mine done, how bout you?"
"Give me a minute." Ponch said, putting down a sparerib. They ate in
silence for a few minutes.
"Hey Ponch, have you ever seriously thought of leaving the patrol?"
Jon said suddenly.
Ponch wiped his hands and sat back. "No. No way. Never. You?"
Jon stared out at the marina. "No, not really. I'd probably hate myself if
I did."
"Yeah. Isn't it something, for all the complaining we do, " he
smiled, "we wouldn't give it up for the world."
Jon returned the smile. "That's for sure. Besides, you need someone to
look after you."
"Aw man, you sound like Getraer!" Ponch said, laughing.
* * * * *
Jon looked at his watch for the millionth time and sighed. It had been Ponch's
idea that they meet at the airport. Their flight was at 7am, it was now 6:35am.
Leave it to Ponch to be late. He checked his pocket to make sure his ticket was
still there, and checked his watch again. They were going to miss their flight
for sure.
"Jon!" Ponch called breathlessly, running up to him, "Whew, made
it!"
"Ponch, where have you been? Our flight leaves in 20 minutes!" Jon
said as they hurried toward the gate.
"Sorry partner..there was an accident on the freeway. I had to stop and
help."
"Yeah, I guess you did." Jon replied, his annoyance fading.
After they settled into their seats on the plane, Ponch reached into his carry
on and pulled out a book.
"Attention all passengers. This is your pilot, Captain Van Cise. You're on
flight 802, non-stop to Kennedy airport in New York City. Please listen to the
flight attendants, they'll have important information for you. Thank you for
flying United and enjoy your flight."
Jon watched as Ponch's eyes followed one of the flight attendants as she moved
past them. Oh, he'll have no problem listening to them, he thought to himself,
smiling. He glanced at the book Ponch was holding. "The Complete Guide to
New York City."
"Hey Ponch, I thought you knew all there was to know about New York."
"I do...but it's been awhile since I've been there..I thought I'd brush
up."
"You do that." Jon grinned and opened up his newspaper.
"CHP OFFICER ARRESTED IN DRUG STING-DRUGS WERE SMUGGLED IN LUXURY CARS,
SAYS SOURCE"
"Ponch, look at this!" Jon exclaimed, a sick feeling in his stomach.
"One of us?" Ponch asked quietly.
"I hope not." Jon said scanning the story. Suddenly his face went
white.
"Jon? Jon, what is it?" Ponch asked "Oh no...It can't be...it
just can't be!"
"See for yourself." Jon said, handing Ponch the paper. Ponch scanned
the article, his eyes widening in disbelief.
".........CHP spokespersons declined to identify the officer in question,
saying only that he was assigned to the Central station in Los
Angeles...."
"I don't believe it! One of us? No way!"
"I hear ya Ponch, but it's right there in black in white." Jon
replied.
"Man, I'm sorry, but I can't believe one of our own is bad. Not our shift
anyway." Ponch said, looking out the window.
"I doubt it too, Ponch. Can you see any of the guys involved in something
like this?"
Ponch had to laugh. "No way, man."
Jon sighed as he thought about the people he'd worked with for years. Every
morning he saw the same faces. Could one of them be capable of something like
this? It was impossible, just impossible.
"Hey, Baker, listen to this!" Ponch exclaimed, reading from the
paper.
"Sources close to the case said that the link to the officer was a 1983
Dodge Sedan, found abandoned in the Hollywood Hills after being reported stolen
by its owner, an unidentified businessman from Bakersfield. The car, with heavy
front end damage, allegedly received after it drove through a police roadblock,
was found to contain at least three of the officers prints....."
"I don't believe it...that's the guy we were chasin!" Jon said in
disbelief.
"Yeah, no wonder he didn't want to stop!" Ponch replied with a wry
grin. "Aw man...I'm glad they got him."
"Yeah, me too," Ponch said, " job's hard enough as it is,
without him giving us a bad name."
Jon was silent for a minute. "You think he was working alone?"
Ponch folded the paper and shoved it under the seat. "I hope so partner. I
hope so."
* * * * *
"Ladies and Gentleman, this is Captain Van Cise. Welcome to New York City.
We'll be landing in 15 minutes. Please return your trays to the upright
position. I hope you enjoyed your flight and thank you for flying United."
Jon awoke with a start. He turned and looked at Ponch, who was slumped against
the window, snoring softly. Jon laughed and shook his head. "C'mon
sleeping beauty, wake up, we're here." Jon said, shaking him.
"I'mwake...I'm awake.." Ponch said sleepily.
Jon glanced at his watch. 3pm. Then he grinned sheepishly as he remembered he
wasn't on Pacific Time anymore. He turned his watch ahead to 6pm. Jet Lag here
I come, he thought to himself.
Ponch stirred next to him and sat up, blinking. "Here already?"
"Yep. Don't forget to turn your watch ahead."
"Huh? Is it Daylight Savings or something?"
Jon laughed. "Ponch, we crossed three time zones, remember?"
Ponch grinned. "Oh yeah, we did, didn't we."
Jon clapped him on the shoulder as they got ready to leave. "Don't worry,
you'll feel it soon enough."
* * * * *
They stepped into the New York air, glad to be up and moving. The early June
evening was warm. "Well what's next Ponch? Grab a taxi?" Jon asked.
"No way man...too much of a hassle, too expensive. We'll take the
subway." Ponch told him, heading for the entrance.
"The subway? What do you know about the New York subway?" he replied.
Ponch tapped the cover of his guidebook. "It's all right here, old
buddy."
"Somehow that doesn't give me a feeling of security." Jon said,
following him over to the token booth.
"C'mon partner! You patrol the freeways of L.A. all day and you're afraid
of the subway?" Ponch teased, handing the stony-faced collector behind a
wall of battered, dirty plastic a 10 dollar bill. Without changing expression,
she shoved handful of tokens towards him. "Thanks!" Ponch
said,flashing his grin. He handed Jon a token and put the rest in his pocket.
The collector didn't even blink.
"Which one do we take?" Jon asked, looking at the maze of signs.
Ponch grinned. "We're taking the A-Train all the way."
Jon rolled his eyes. "Lead the way."
They went down a flight of crumbling concrete stairs, its surface marred with
gum and grime. The platform wasn't much better. The ground filthy, with puddles
of something that might have been water here and there. Ponch wrinkled his
nose. "Man, what's that smell?"
"I'd rather not find out." Jon replied. As they laughed, the train
rumbled into the station. They got aboard, lugging their bags behind them.
There were no empty seats, so they grabbed one of the chrome poles by the
doors. Jon looked around. Discarded newspapers and coffee cups littered the
floor, as the passengers sat sullenly, some buried in a book or a briefcase,
others swaying to a Walkman, still others just staring into space. Sitting next
to Ponch was a young man, maybe 20, staring intently at them. Not knowing what
to do, Jon smiled briefly, then looked away. The windows and walls were etched
with all kinds of graffiti, from the political to the pornographic. Some of it
was enough to make even Ponch blush. Just then. the train came to a stop. Ponch
felt a tug on his jacket. He turned in time to see the young man next to him
bolt with a wallet in his hand.
"HEY!" Ponch yelled,
"Hey, he's got my wallet!!!"
* * * * *
Joe Getraer put a stack of reports in his outbox and sat back, rubbing his
eyes. Quitting time. Finally. He looked at the clock and smiled. Baker and
Poncherello should be in the Big Apple by now. What he'd give to see Jon's
reactions. He stood up and reached for his jacket.
"Sargent Getraer?"
Joe looked at the man standing in his doorway. He was fairly young, late thirties,
maybe forty, his dark hair stylishly cut, wearing a non-descript blue suit.
"That would be me. How can I help you?" He held out his hand.
"Agent Forest, DEA. May we talk?"
Joe shook his hand. "Have a seat."
"Sergeant, I trust you've heard about our latest arrest."
"The CHP officer? Oh yeah...it's all over the station." Joe ran a
hand over his face.
Forest reached into his briefcase and took out a green file folder.
"Sargent, do you know this man?" He placed a picture of an officer in
front of him. Light brown, almost blond hair, blue eyes, thin lipped, and clean
shaven.
"No, I don't. I take it this is the officer you arrested?"
"Yes it is. Please keep it to yourself."
"Of course." Joe looked at the picture again. "He looks kinda
like Jon." he mused.
"What's that?"
"Oh nothing. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"I'd like to question your officers, if that's okay."
"Sure, but you'll have to wait til tomorrow. A-Shift ended awhile
ago."
"Tomorrow will be fine." Forest replied, reaching for his folder. As
he took it, something fell out and hit the floor. Getraer reached over and
picked it up.
"A plane ticket?" he asked, handing it back to him.
"Yes, he had that on him when we arrested him. Apparently he was planning
a trip." As Agent Forest slipped it back in the folder, Joe saw the
destination on it. New York City.
* * * * *
Jon watched Ponch pace anxiously back and forth in front of him as they waited
for the officer behind the desk to notice them. They'd run after the guy who
had stolen Ponch's wallet, but being unfamiliar with the city, hadn't gotten
far. Jon was already beginning to yearn for the safety of a freeway.
"Next!" he barked, as two uniformed men lead a man in cuffs away. As
Ponch approached the desk, the officer eyed him warily. "Welcome to the
1-2-8. How can I help ya?"
"My wallet was stolen!" Ponch exclaimed, "We were on the subway
and-"
"And you want me to get all available units out there looking for it,
right?" the officer interrupted.
"Well...yeah." Ponch stammered.
"My boy, do you have any idea how many wallets and purses get stolen here
every day? Let alone how many get stolen on the subway? Your wallet is probably
in some trash can right now, and it will probably be in Fresh Kills by morning.
Minus your cash and credit cards, of course."
He opened his mouth to holler to the next person in line when Jon spoke up.
"Excuse me," he eyed the man's nameplate, "Sargent Rickey. Fresh
Kills? Where's that?"
The sargent threw his head back and laughed. "It's not a where, it's a
what. Fresh Kills landfill, the proud home of New York City's trash."
Jon looked down. He didn't enjoy being made fun of. Suddenly he looked back up.
"C'mon Ponch forget about it. As long as you've still got your badge
you're all right. I'll lend you some cash." he turned to leave.
"Badge? Are you two cops?" Sargent Rickey called after them.
They turned around and went back to the desk, ID's in hand. "We sure
are." Ponch said,"I'm Frank Poncherello, he's Jon Baker. California
Highway Patrol."
Rickey eyed their badges. "Moleski! Williams!" he barked, drawing the
attention of two female detectives at a desk behind him, "Check these two
out will ya? They claim to be cops."
"Now why would we be lying?" Jon asked, his anger rising.
A few minutes later the women returned. "They're legit Sarge. They're
motor cops with the CHP."
The Sargent began to laugh. "Ah..wheely boppers.....so you must be here
for the fancy convention in town. Now we real cops, we don't have time for such
things."
Jon bit his tongue. Ponch bristled. "Now wait a minute. I agree our beats
are probably nothing like yours, but we're out there laying it on the line
everyday, same as you!"
Rickey's eyes narrowed. "I just call em as I see em."
Jon grabbed his badge. "C'mon Ponch, let's get out of here!"
"Yeah." Ponch said, his dark eyes flashing with anger.
"Welcome to New York!" Rickey called after them.
* * * *
As soon as the walked into their hotel room, Jon dropped his bags and collapsed
on the bed nearest the window. "Aw man, what a day."
"You're telling me. Now I gotta cancel all my credit cards. Thanks for
covering my part of the room, partner."
"Don't worry about it, Ponch. I know you'll pay me back." Jon smiled.
"I'm not." Ponch laughed. "I'm just wondering how you can afford
it!"
Jon winked. "That's easy. I don't buy all the junk you do."
"I know," Ponch laughed, "you just borrow mine!"
Jon stretched and sat up. "What time is it?"
"Almost 11."
"Wanna call room service?"
"Jon, you read my mind!"
* * * *
The next morning at 8am sharp, two sleepy highway patrol officers made their
way to the registration line at the convention's entrance. As they waited, Jon
looked around the sunny lobby. New York sure looked different during the day.
Last night he felt like he was in a bad detective movie. This morning things
looked bright and clean. As he approached the desk, he noticed two men watching
him. One was tall and lean, maybe 50, with a scowl on his handsome face. The other
looked like he was Mexican, or maybe Asian, with smooth sharp features and dark
hair, slicked back. Jon figured they were fellow convention goers. He smiled at
them as he reached the desk. To his surprise they nodded and disappeared.
* * * *
20 minutes later they were on the street in front of the hotel, blinking in the
bright sun.
"Well, we're all set. Looks like we have the rest of the day to ourselves.
What should we do?" Jon asked.
Ponch reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of tickets. "I know
what we're doing tonight."
"Wait a minute. Are those Yankee tickets?"
Ponch grinned. "They sure are. The hotel concierge got them for me. We've
got seats on the third baseline for the Yankees-A's game tonight!"
"Sounds great. But what should we do until then?"
"Let's take the Ferry to the Statue of Liberty." Ponch suggested.
"I'm game. Can we stop at Ellis Island? I've always wanted to check that
out."
"Yeah me too. Oh, and don't forget, Grossie wants some souvenirs."
Jon laughed as they headed down the street. "I wonder why he didn't come?
This is definitely Grossie's thing."
"Hey, you know Grossie. He says flying upsets his...how did he put
it...his delicate sinuses."
They both laughed. Ponch pulled out his guidebook. "We have gotta go check
out Rockerfeller Center! NBC Studios are there ya know."
"Yeah, so?"
"So? Jon, NBC is responsible for some of the best shows on TV!" Jon
shrugged.
"I don't watch that much TV, you know that. I want to check out the Museum
of Natural History."
Ponch nodded. "Okay. I want to check out the nightlife!"
"You would."
"C'mon man...don't you want to know what New York girls are like?"
"COMIN THROUGH!!" yelled someone behind them. They jumped out of the
way just as a bike messenger, his bag packed with packages, sped by, jumping
the curb. Jon and Ponch just stared.
"He's lucky I left my pinch book at home!" Ponch said finally.
* * * * *
When the Statue of Liberty ferry headed into New York Harbor, Jon and Ponch
were on the upper deck, enjoying the breeze and the sunshine. Behind them was
Manhattan, the World Trade Center towering over them. To the right was New
Jersey, to the left, Brooklyn, its namesake bridge sparkling in the sun, and
Governor's Island, a Coast Guard station. A bright orange Staten Island ferry
boat chugged by them, headed for the island.
"Amazing." Ponch said softly.
"I know...and we thought L.A. was a big city!" Jon said.
"Oh it is, partner...but this..." They were silent for awhile.
"Hey Jon, have you ever been this far east?"
Jon didn't answer right away. "Once."
"Really? Where did you go?"
"D.C. Look! There she is." They both watched as the boat approached
the statue.
"Wow..." Jon said softly.
"Yeah....this is what it's all
about, ya know?" Ponch replied, not taking his eyes off it. As the ferry
docked, Jon caught sight of two men on the lower deck. They looked oddly
familiar. By the time he and Ponch had made their way off the ferry, the two
men had disappeared in the crowd. Jon put it out of his head. You've been a cop
too long, he thought. Relax and be a tourist for once.
* * * * *
"HOT DAWGS! GET YOUR HOT DAWGS!" Jon grinned as he and Ponch took
their seats along the third base line.
"Wow..would you look at this place?"
"I know!" Ponch said, "there's so much history here. The Babe,
Mantle..."
"Yeah," Jon laughed,"makes me wish I'd kept my old baseball card
collection."
"Me too!"
"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the PA system, "welcome to
historic Yankee Stadium, home of the legendary New York Yankees! The snack bar
areas are located on the odd levels. Beer is not sold after the 7th inning.
Enjoy the game!"
"Ponch," Jon said suddenly, "how did you buy these tickets
without any money?"
"Relax partner. I called my mom in Chicago early this morning. She wired
some cash to the hotel. I couldn't let you pay for everything!" Ponch
smiled.
Before Jon could answer, they were drowned out by a chorus of boos as the
Oakland A's starting pitcher jogged in from the bullpen.
"Hey, they've got Allen starting, huh?" Jon said.
"Yeah. He's okay I guess. 3.10 ERA is a little high though."
"Ponch, it's one of the lowest in the league!"
"They never should have gotten rid of Paulson."
"C'mon Ponch, what was he doing for them? Only thing he was good at was
giving up home runs."
"NOW TAKING THE FIELD, YOUR NEW YAWK YANKEES!!" A tremendous cheer
went up around the stadium.
* * * * *
"Aw man!" Ponch shouted as the A's third baseman, Carney Landsford,
grounded out to Don Mattingly to end the A's half of the inning. It was the 6th
inning, and the Yankees were up, 7 to 5. "What was that? My mother can hit
better than that!" he shouted. Jon took a bite of his hot dog and shook
his head, marking the play on his scorecard.
"Face it Ponch, the Yankees have a better pitcher."
"What's this? 1 day in New York and you're turning into a Yankee
fan?" Ponch laughed.
"Now up, outfielder Dave Winfield" the PA announced. The pitcher
shook off two pitches, then nodded, went to his windup, and threw. "Crack!"
The ball was headed right for them. Ponch stood up and caught it, ignoring the
sharp sting that it sent through his hands.
"Hey! Alright Ponch!" Jon said with a grin.
* * * * *
It was after midnight when they got back to the hotel. The A's lost, 12- 7, but
they both agreed the game had been fun anyway. Jon kicked his shoes off and sat
down on his bed. He was looking forward to a good night's sleep. He yanked his
shirt over his head as Ponch emerged from the bathroom.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
Jon opened his suitcase and took out a pair of pajama bottoms. "I'm
getting ready for bed, why?"
"Bed? At this hour? C'mon Jon! Let's go hit the clubs!"
"No thanks Ponch. I'm bushed."
"Jon, you're in New York! The city that never sleeps!"
Jon laughed as he folded his jeans and put them on a chair. "Yeah, well
this is the kid who does. Go ahead without me, Ponch. Have fun. Oh, and be
careful, huh?"
"Don't worry about me partner."
* * * * *
Jon awoke promptly at 5:45am, like he did everyday. His body protested, telling
him the clock was lying, and it was only 2:45am. The soft snoring coming from
the other bed told him Ponch had made it home okay. Sighing, he turned over. He
was just about to fall back asleep when the phone rang.
" 'Lo?" he answered sleepily.
"Central Park, 9:30." said a deep voice.
"What? Listen, I think you have the wrong-" He was interrupted by a
dial tone.
* * * * *
As Jon showered and got dressed, he couldn't get the mysterious call out of his
mind. Was it really a wrong number? The two men he'd seen on the ferry and at
the convention kept coming back to him. Could it be related? He thought idly
about showing up, but even he knew Central Park was huge. Chances are whoever
it was would never find him. He left a note for Ponch and went out to get the
paper and some breakfast. After picking up the Daily News and some muffins and
coffee, he walked down the street. Opening his paper he thumbed through it. An
item under National News caught his eye.
"(AP)Seattle- Two Washington State Troopers have been suspended pending an
investigation into allegations that they were involved in a drug trafficking
network in which drugs were smuggled in expensive cars being shipped out of
state...."
He folded the paper shut and flagged down a cab. "Central Park." he
said. climbing in. Jon stepped out of the cab and looked around. Behind him was
Central Park, its 843 acres of forest, grass, lakes, and meandering paths
teaming with people. Couples and students lounged under trees, people tossed
frisbees to their dogs, and joggers, walkers, roller skaters, and baby
strollers filled the paths. Some people sketched, others read or talked, still
others sat quietly with their thoughts or slept. I must be crazy...how am I
ever going to find these guys? Jon thought to himself. I need help. He waited
for the light to turn, then joined the throng of people crossing the street. He
jogged over to a pay phone, dug a quarter out of his pocket, and dialed.
"Hullo?" Ponch's sleepy voice answered.
"Ponch it's me. Listen, get dressed and meet me over at the Metropolitan
Museum of Art."
"Huh? Man, what's going on?"
"I don't have time to explain. Just get over here, okay?"
"All right all right...I'm on my way."
Jon hung up and sat down on the massive stone steps of the museum. Crowds of
schoolchildren, art students, and tourists walked by. He glanced at his watch.
8:12. At a quarter to 9, a yellow cab pulled up and Ponch stepped out, looking
less than happy. He paid the driver and walked over.
"Okay, I'm here. What's up?"
Jon told him about the mysterious phone call. "Jon, this is New York.
People get prank calls all the time. C'mon!"
Jon unfolded the paper. "Ponch, read this. Sound familiar?"
Ponch quickly scanned the article. "Yeah, sounds like the same setup our
guy was involved in."
"It's the same one, Ponch. It has to be."
"Yeah, so what if it is?"
"Ponch, I think this article and the call are connected."
"Jon, you've been watching too many bad movies. How could they possibly be
connected?"
"I dunno Ponch. It's just a feeling."
"Look Jon, if you think something's going down, turn it over to the
NYPD."
Before Jon could answer, the phone next to him rang. After hesitating a few
minutes, he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Act normal. We're watching you. Meet us by the stables." Dial tone.
"Was what that all about?" Ponch asked.
"That was the same voice that called me this morning. He wants me to meet
him by the stables." Jon said quietly.
"The NYPD has a stable in the park. But how do you know they meant
you?" Ponch replied, a knot forming in his stomach.
"They said they were watching me. Tell me how to get to the stables
Ponch."
"No way man, I don't like this."
"Ponch, if I don't do this they are just going to find me anyway."
"Jon, let's go to the police. This isn't our turf, remember?"
"I know Ponch. But if this guy is who I think he is, going to the NYPD is
the last thing we want to do." He told Ponch about the two men at the
convention and on the ferry.
"This is heavy man...too heavy. Will you at least call Getraer?"
Ponch said with concern.
"Yeah, Ponch. After the meeting. Let's go."
* * * * *
A few feet from the stables, Ponch backed off and made himself as inconspicuous
as possible. Jon swallowed hard and walked into the stable area. He took a deep
breath of horses and hay and relaxed a bit. There were 4 horses there, munching
on their breakfasts. Jon barely had time to admire them when the two men
approached from around the corner. They were the same two as before.
"Morning.
Glad you could make it. Where's your buddy?"
"I told him to buzz off. Figured you didn't want him around."
The tall lean one ran a hand through his graying hair. "Smart man. CHP,
right?"
"That's right."
"Officer Ryan I assume?"
Jon fought the urge to correct him. "Right." he said gruffly.
"Call me Adams."
"Okay. And him?" Jon motioned to the other man,standing in the
corner, his smooth Asian features showing no emotion.
"As long as you do good work for me, you won't have to worry about
him." Adams paced in front of him, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it
with an expensive looking lighter. "Your friend. Going to be a
problem?"
"No way. He only does what I tell him to do."
His lips curved in a crude smile. "Good. You're exactly what they said
you'd be. This should be a very profitable relationship for both of us. You'll
receive more instructions later."
10 minutes later, after shaking hands, Jon left the stable. As soon as he was
far enough away he sat down, willing himself to breath again. He got back up
and hurried to meet Ponch. So much for their vacation. He'd just fallen into a
nightmare, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be waking up any time soon. Jon
sat down on the bed and picked up the phone. Ponch was on the extension in the
other room of their suite. Taking a deep breath he dialed. "Yeah, Sargent
Getraer please." he said quietly.
* * * * * *
Joe Getraer arrived in his office just as the phone began to ring. Geez, he
thought, I can't even sit down in this place anymore. He grabbed the receiver
on the third ring. "Morning, Sargent Getraer's office."
"Hey Sarge."
"Jon!" Joe said in surprise, taking a seat, "good to hear from
you. How's New York?"
Jon scratched his neck. "Sarge, you're not going to believe this, but
we've got a problem."
Joe sat back and sighed. "Okay, give it to me. What's Poncherello gotten
himself into this time?"
"Hey!" Ponch's voice protested, "What makes you think it's
me?"
"Oh, hi Frank. You're on the line too."
"Yep. And for your information, Jon's the one who's gotten himself into
something."
Joe could hear the grin in Ponch's voice. "Jon? Jon's in trouble? Not you
Frank? Well that's refreshing." Joe replied.
"Hey, would you two stop it? This is serious." Jon snapped.
Something in Jon's voice concerned him. "Sorry Jon. What's the
problem?"
Jon took a deep breath and told him everything, with Ponch occasionally chiming
in. Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face. Looking up he saw Agent Forest
walk in. "Jon, sit tight. I'll get back to you ASAP. What's the number
again? Okay. Bye." He hung up and gave Forest a hard look. "Sit down
Agent Forest. Tell me, the name of the officer you arrested wouldn't be Ryan,
now would it?"
"How do you know that?" Forest demanded.
Joe told him Jon's story. The agent was quiet for a moment. Then a smile spread
over his face.
"Excuse me, but I see nothing amusing about this. One of my officers-my
friends-is in danger here!"
"Oh, there's no danger as long as he continues to play along. And he will.
You see Sargent, Adams is the head honcho of the whole operation. He thinks
Baker is actually Rick Ryan, the man we arrested. This is perfect!"
"Perfect?? What happens when he finds out Jon isn't Ryan?" Getraer
exclaimed.
"He won't. We've got Ryan in custody, and we've made sure his arrest was
kept out of the news. Nobody knows his name. As far as the world knows it was
just an anonymous arrest. Sargent, how can I contact Officer Baker?"
"I've got the number of his hotel. But I'm not giving it to you until you
tell me exactly what your plans are for my officer."
Forest stood up and began to pace. "Very well Sargent. My people have been
trying to infiltrate that organization for months. It's the only way to get the
information we need to bring it down for good. Officer Baker seems to have
fallen right in. Provided he can continue his good acting, he will be our link.
He can get us the information."
"Are you serious? Jon's a CHP officer, not some sort of secret agent! You
could get him killed!"
"That's highly unlikely."
"Oh? So can you guarantee me his life won't be placed in immediate
danger?" Joe demanded, his steely blue eyes flashing. The agent was
silent. "Didn't think so."
"Call your officer Sargent."
"On one condition. You let Jon decide what he wants to do. If he wants to
take this assignment from you, so be it. If he doesn't, that's the end of
it."
"Agreed."
Joe sighed and began to dial.
* * * * *
"What??" Ponch exclaimed.
"Jon, you don't have to do this." Getraer's worried voice added.
Jon sat silently, trying to digest what he'd just heard. They want me to go
undercover for the DEA?
"Officer Baker," Agent Forest's cold, calm voice said, "you have
the opportunity to be instrumental in taking millions of dollars of drugs off
the street."
"You don't understand...I'm not a drug agent..sure I've done undercover
work before, but..."
"Officer Baker, the choice is yours. If you choose not to assist us, then
so be it, but then you can expect this operation to continue. If you do assist
us we could shut it down in a matter of weeks."
"That's not fair!" Ponch exclaimed, "don't go laying some kind
of guilt on him. He didn't ask for this mess you know!"
"With all due respect Officer Poncherello, please stay out of this. This
concerns Officer Baker and myself. No one else."
"The hell it doesn't!" Ponch exploded, "Jon is my partner and my
best friend. I'm not going to sit by and let you talk him into a decision that
could get him killed!"
"Jon?" Getraer's voice, it's anger carefully controlled, asked,
"Jon, what do you think?"
"I think," Jon replied, "that it's my decision. If I can do
something to get these jerks off the street, than I have to do it. I'm a
cop." he took a deep breath. "Okay, Agent Forest. Tell me what to
do." Ponch slammed the extension down angrily. While Jon took down Agent
Forest's instructions, Ponch paced back and forth. He's crazy, he thought.
Baker's really lost it. When Jon hung up he turned to him.
"Listen Ponch, I-"
"No, you listen! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"I'm doing my job." Jon replied quietly.
"This isn't our turf man. This isn't even our league!" Ponch
exploded.
"Does that make me any less of a cop? Does that make the badge mean any
less?" Jon shot back. "How can I turn my back on this and still call
myself a good cop?"
"I never said to turn your back on this. I told you to turn it over to the
proper authorities! They had no right-"
"Ponch, it was my decision, remember? I want to do this. I want to bring
these guys down, and down hard."
"So do I partner, so do I, believe me! But I don't want to lose my partner
in the process!"
Jon softened. "Hey, Ponch, look. I understand your concern. And I
appreciate it more than you know. Sure I'm scared. But I gotta do this."
Ponch sighed. "Yeah, I know you do. So what did Agent Forest say?"
Jon ran a hand through his hair. "It sounds pretty simple actually. I just
stay here for the rest of the convention, and keep the act up."
"And when we get back to L.A.?"
"I'm supposed to meet with him and Getraer."
The two men were silent for a minute. Suddenly Ponch grinned.
"Yeah? What's so funny?" Jon asked.
"I was just thinking. Man, I talked you in to coming here for a vacation.
And look what happened. We got ourselves into another one."
Jon had to smile. "Yeah, we sure did. Guess we should have known
better."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"C'mon Ponch. We've always had this talent. Remember the off road race we
entered?"
"Correction, you entered. You just dragged me along. Said it would be
fun." Ponch smiled.
"Well, wasn't it?" Jon grinned.
"Oh sure...I just love spending my days off chasing after mob gold and
riding over unexploded mines!"
"Hey, at least we finished the race!" Jon laughed.
"Yeah, no thanks to that Supersport dude."
"Oh yeah, wasn't he a barrel of laughs." Ponch grinned. "Well
Mrs. Supersport was sure nice." he winked.
Jon began to laugh. "Do you remember when Harlan tried to show off on the
radio?"
Ponch's laughter joined him. "Oh man, he tried though, didn't he?"
The shrill ring of the phone interrupted them. Jon looked at Ponch, then
answered it. "Hello. Yeah....Uh-huh..." Jon's face paled,"No
problem, should be easy. Got it. Okay..I'll be there." he hung up.
"That was Adams. He wants to see me in an hour." he sat down heavily
on the bed.
Ponch sat down next to him. "What's wrong?"
Jon looked up. "Ponch, I want you to get the next plane out of here, you
got it?"
"What? You think I'm leaving you here? No way! We're partners,
remember?"
"Ponch, listen to me! He wants me to get rid of you, understand?"
Ponch stood up. "Wait a minute-"
"No, there's no time. Get out of town. I'll figure out something. I'll
tell him I took care of you."
Ponch was speechless. This was just too much. Ponch and Jon just stared at each
other for a few minutes.. neither one knowing what to say. Finally Ponch spoke.
"They want you to kill me?" his voice was sharp and quiet.
"All they said was they want you out of the way."
Ponch relaxed. "Man you had me scared for a minute!"
Jon ducked his head, then looked up. "You wanna know about scared? I'll
tell ya about scared! Ponch, how do you know that's not what they mean?"
Ponch just grinned. "Consider me out of the way. But I'm not going
anywhere."
"Ponch c'mon, I don't want you getting mixed up in this. This is my job to
do, not yours."
"Jon, I've been mixed up in this since you asked me to meet you at the
park! We're a team, remember?"
Jon sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a nice, safe, smoggy freeway."
"Hey, you get to the meeting, I'll call Getraer." Ponch watched Jon
leave and picked up the phone.
* * * * * *
"WHAT?" Getraer exclaimed, "That does it. I want both of you
back in L.A."
"Believe me Sarge, we wish we were there. This is unbelievable, you
know?"
Joe sighed. "I know. Where's Jon?"
"He's at another meeting."
"Okay..sit tight and let me know what happens. Oh- and Frank?"
"Yeah Joe?"
"You're not coming home alone, got it?"
"I wouldn't dream of it Sarge. "
* * * * * *
"Well?" asked Adams, the sun glinting off his dark glasses, "Did
you do the job?"
"It's been taken care of. He won't be causing any problems." Jon said
crisply.
"How can you be sure?"
Jon didn't waver under his stare. "Even a cop has a price."
Slowly, a smile spread over Adams craggy features. "Excellent. I like you
Ryan. We're gonna go far together."
"Yeah?" Jon demanded. "Starting when?"
"Starting now. There are people waiting for you in L.A. You'll be
contacted when you get there. The sooner you get there the better."
"And what do these people want me to do?"
"Very simple. I ship my product out on auto carriers. Nobody ever thinks
to check each car. I just need you to be sure my carriers get across the
border."
"Wait a minute. You know where I'm stationed. My beat is nowhere near the
border."
"Doesn't have to be. I need you to provide information, that's all. Where
there are roadblocks set up, what weigh stations are open, and so forth. Is
that a problem?"
"No. No problem."
"Very good. You'll be meeting with my Border Patrol contacts back in L.A.
Have a good trip." With that he motioned to his ever present companion and
walked away, leaving Jon standing alone in the park.
* * * * *
Ponch paced back and forth in the hotel room. He sighed with relief when he
heard a key turn in the door.
"Hey." Jon said as he walked in.
"How'd it go?" Quickly, Jon filled him in. "Well at least we're
going home." Ponch said.
Jon suddenly laughed.
"Care to share the joke?"
"I told them I paid you off..can you imagine?"
Ponch grinned. "You couldn't afford me!"
* * * * *
Jon sighed as he walked into Central. It was good to be home. He walked into
the locker room and got into uniform. He stopped as he caught sight of himself
in the mirror. The man looking back at him was the same man he'd seen for 36
years, but he felt different. He knew he was just doing a job, but even just
pretending to be a bad cop made him feel dirty and sick inside. He reached up
and touched his badge for a minute, then slammed his locker shut and walked
out.
* * * * *
"Have a seat, Officer Baker." Agent Forest said.
Jon took a seat across from Getraer's desk. Ponch leaned against the closed
door behind him. "Officer Baker, have you been contacted since your return
to L.A.?"
"No I-" the phone interrupted him.
Joe picked it up. "Sargent Getraer speaking. Just a minute."
"Jon, you've got a visitor at the front desk."
Taking a deep breath he got up and walked out to the lobby. When he got there,
the lobby was deserted, but there was a manilla envelope sitting on the
counter. He took it and went back to Getraer's office.
"What's it say?" Ponch asked.
Jon handed it to him. "SUNSET HOTEL, 8PM"
"Excellent! Excellent!" Forest exclaimed. "We'll get you wired
up before then. If all goes well this could be it."
* * * * * *
Jon stood bare chested in Getraer's office as he was wired. His stomach was in
a knot, and his heart was pounding. Please let this be the end of it, he
thought.
"Okay, you're all set."
Jon reached for his t-shirt and yanked it on, then grabbed his shirt. "I
sure hope this works."
Forest watched him, arms folded across his chest. "You and me both,
Officer Baker."
"He'd better have plenty of backup." Getraer said.
"Don't worry about that, my men have the place surrounded already."
Jon glanced at his watch. 7:32. "I'd better get going."
"There's a car waiting for you outside." Forest tossed him a set of
keys.
"Hey partner," Ponch said, "good luck!"
"Thanks Ponch..I just hope I don't need it."
After Jon left, Getraer turned to Forest. "Aren't you going to be
there?"
"You bet I am."
"Good. We're going with you."
"Now Sargent-"
"I don't recall inviting discussion on the matter."
Agent Forest threw his hands up. As they were about to leave, the phone rang.
"Sargent Getraer." Joe listened, an angry flush spreading over his
face. "WHAT? What do you mean, released?? By who??. No damn it, he already
left!" he slammed the phone down.
"What is it Sarge? What's going on?" Ponch asked.
Getraer glared at Forest. "The real Officer Ryan was released earlier
today. They think he's made contact with Adams. If he has, Jon's going into a
trap!"
"Oh my God.." Ponch said, his face pale.
"But that's impossible...my people-" Forest stuttered.
"Your people screwed up, and it may cost Baker his life!" Getraer
snapped, furious and terrified.
*************************************************
"Sarge, we've got to stop him!" Ponch exclaimed.
"I know Frank. Try and catch up with him. I'm going to put an APB
out."
Ponch was already gone.
*************************************************
Ponch
gripped the wheel of his Firebird, his foot inching the gas pedal further and
further to the floor. His dark eyes scanned the street around him. As he turned
the corner, his eyes fell on a dark green sedan in front of him. He grabbed the
radio. "Sarge, it's Ponch. Do you read?"
"Go ahead Frank." Joe Getraer's worried voice responded.
"Sarge, I found him. I'm gonna pull him over now." Ponch's voice was
filled with relief.
"Good Frank...good!"
Before Ponch could respond, a black sedan pulled up along side Jon's car. As
Ponch watched helplessly, the man inside pulled out a gun and began to fire.
"L.A. Any units in the vincity of Sunset and Brenton..Shots fired! Repeat
shots fired! Officer needs help!" Ponch yelled into the radio.
Meanwhile, Jon was running on pure adrenaline as he tried to dodge the bullets
and keep control of the car. It felt like his heart was going to pound itself
right out of his chest. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the sedan
disappeared. Jon screeched to a stop and slumped over the steering wheel. Ponch
stopped behind him and ran to the car, the sound of sirens growing louder
behind him.
"Baker, you alright? Jon, talk to me!" he demanded anxiously.
Jon looked up, his face stony with anger. "That's it. This game is
over."
"What are you talking about? Did you see who shot at you."
"You better believe it!"
*************************************************
Back at Central, Jon was furious. He paced back and forth in Getraer's office
until Agent Forest arrived. "You've got a lot of explaining to do, mister.
Just who are you anyway? Do you know what attempted murder of a police officer
gets you in this state?" Jon exploded.
"Now wait just a minute," Getraer interjected, "just what the
hell are you getting at, Baker?"
"Sarge, this is the guy who shot at me. I'll testify to it in any
court."
"What??" Getraer exclaimed.
"Officer Baker, you are obviously mistaken. Take some time to clear your
head-" Forest began coolly.
"My head is clear thank you! And you tried to blow it off. I'll swear to
it." Jon snapped.
"Come to think of it," Getraer said quietly, "You disappeared
right after the call came in."
"Well of course Sargent. I had to get to the scene as soon as possible.
for Baker's safety."
"You set me up!" Jon replied angrily," you knew all along that
the real Ryan had been released. You wanted me to get killed all along. When
Sarge got the call you decided to do the job yourself!"
"Officer Baker, why would I want you killed?"
"Because I was doing my job. It makes sense now. You've been dirty from
the start. You picked me to go undercover because you figured I had no idea
what I was doing. You used me to look good with your department!"
Forest's eyes narrowed. "You can't prove a word of that."
The phone rang. "Sargent Getraer's office." Ponch answered. He
listened quietly, then hung up the phone. "He doesn't have to, Forest.
That was the LAPD. They picked up Ryan and Adams a few minutes ago, and it
seems they are more than happy to spill their guts for a deal."
Getraer stood up and reached for his cuffs. "Agent Forest, you're under
arrest for the attemped murder of a CHP officer. You have the right to remain
silent...."
************************************************
After Forest was taken away, Ponch turned to his partner, his brown eyes filled
with amazement. "How did you manage to figure all that out?"
"It sort of fell into place when I realized he was the one shooting at me,
Ponch. I'd had a bad feeling about him from the start.The rest was just a lucky
guess."
"Lucky is right. The word from downtown is they can't shut Adams and Ryan
up." Ponch grinned.
"Good. I hope they all go away for a long time." Jon's smile was
filled with relief.
"Me too, ol buddy, me too." Ponch said as they walked into the warm
night.
***********************************************
The next day, under a bright sunny sky, they met up with Grossie and Bonnie for
lunch.
"Hey Jon, you look beat." Grossie greeted them. "You too
Ponch."
"Thanks Grossie." Jon replied, sitting down.
"You know what you two need?"
"No, but I bet you're gonna tell us." Ponch said.
"You need a nice vacation."
Jon and Ponch looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
"No thanks Grossie. We'll take a nice smoggy freeway anyday." Ponch
replied with a grin.
"Yeah," Jon added, "there's no place like home."
~0~