LJ Idol Week 23 - The Weak Force

It was Carter’s first case as lead officer and he and his team had the house surrounded. Nine officers, all with weapons drawn were creeping along behind him, making him so nervous he could barely speak.

As they smashed down the front door, a figure ran across the room in front of them. Just the man they were looking for!

“Get face-down on the floor and put your head in the air!” Carter barked, trying to sound authoritative. It must have worked; the figure stopped moving and turned to him, a look of confusion on his face. A fit of giggles came from behind him and he whipped his head around to find where the nosie came from. He was met with nothing but a wall of blank stares.

“Did anyone have anything to say?” He asked, slowly looking at each of his team in the eyes. In turn each man solemnly shook his head, until it came to the second last in line. Rogers, a rookie officer with a stutter, avoided eye contact and nervously pointed at the bad guy on the floor.

“h-h–h–hhhands,” He managed to say seconds before someone slapped the words out of him.

“Hands?” Carter repeated, confused.

Rogers nodded eagerly. “Hands, sir. You s-s-s-said ‘head in the air’ but I think you m-m-m-me-meant ‘hands in the air’”

Carter turned bright red, not liking being shown to be a fool by a fool. “Rogers, take this scum outside and lock him in the car. Tie his hands behind his back before you go.”

Rogers complied, his cap falling down over his eyes as he bent down to pick up the bad guy from the floor. More snorts came from the back row and Carter assigned each officer a task to keep them busy.

Girly shrieks pierced through the quiet morning air and Carter went running through the house to the front yard, where he thought the noise came from. He found Rogers sitting on the grass beside the car, his hands tied behind his back, and the bad guy nowhere in the vicinity. Blood was pouring out of a wound on his neck and he looked more than a little bewildered.

“What the fuck, Rogers!” Carter exploded, unable to hold back his frustration at the absurdity of the situation. “Where is our bad guy?”

Rogers looked around the yard, “H-h-h-he’s not here boss.”

“NO SHIT SHERLOCK!”

Looking back at the house Carter saw eight pairs of wide eyes staring through the front window at them, not sure whether to laugh or run. Carter hoped the look on his face told them to run, very, very fast.

After he radioed for help, Carter untied Rogers, against his better judgement. Pressing a cloth against his wound he told him to stay where he was and called for backup. Someone needed to come and catch their bad guy, even though he was probably long gone.

“Boss?” Carter asked when he called in, “can you please send in the strong force this time? The weak force just didn’t cut it today.”