“This is Naomi,” he introduced.
“Fuck,” Carter hissed under his breath, sinking slightly in his seat.
“Naomi is going to be helping you with your sizes after I show you the way the new kit works. First of all, you’ll all be wearing black tactical pants. The knees have a coating at the back to prevent tearing and help protect your knees if you need to drop down for any reason. They have the usual utility pockets, but these are not to be used to put anything heavy or sharp in.”
That was a relief for me. I hated storing heavy shit in those. There was nothing quite like turning quickly and a bullet hitting your leg.
“Your vest has a large pocket on the chest and smaller ones here, here, and here,” he pointed to a vest he’d just picked up from the pile and showed us the pockets. “Your utility belt also has more storage on it, as you can see.” He held one up, and admittedly it looked pretty cool.
“On the vest, you’ve got a space here to attach your badge. I’d prefer that you didn’t attach it to your belt in case it delays you getting something that you need from the belt, like your taser or gun.”
We all nodded, understanding what he meant. In high-stress situations, you grabbed and things getting the way fucked it up.
“You also have thigh holsters. Many of you will be used to this from previous law or military involvement, but it’s new for us here, so I’m going to say it anyway. Having the thigh holster keeps your gun more secure, but also slightly lower down from the belt for the same reasons as I stated for not putting your badge on your belt.”
I also liked this. Coming out of the Air Force Ground Forces, thigh holsters were what I was used to.
“Any questions so far?”
We all shook our heads and waited for what was next.
“Naomi will be in the conference room next door after we’re done here. You can go in and tell her your sizes and try the vests on.”
Waving half-heartedly at us, she pushed the cart back to the door, freezing when Carter got up to help her. There was some sort of silent communication between them that involved blank faces and jaw grinding, and then he opened the door, and she left.
Juicy!
“I’m handing out a document which I want you to read and memorize, and next week we have a consultant coming in to discuss de-escalation techniques. I know you’ve all passed the academy and your courses, but we’re moving into a new age of policing, and this is important. Body language, how you stand, and psychology plays a large part in a situation either staying calm or going to shit, and it’s fucking crucial that we stop them doing the latter.
“There will be ones where it’s unavoidable, but there’s a large amount that should never get to where they do, and this technique could’ve prevented it,” he sighed, hanging his head to look at his feet. “Fucking kills me that we even need to point this shit out, but I want you guys to be the best you can be, and I want people to feel safe with us as their law enforcement.”
“I’ve trained on this before,” DB’s dad, Alex, said. “After the consultant’s done, I can always help if anyone has a problem.”
Looking relieved, DB nodded. “Thanks, that would be awesome. I need you guys to think hard when you go into a situation, okay? We’re responsible for human beings who are indispensable. The consultant who’s coming has been doing this for twenty years, and we’re lucky to have had him assigned to us, so pay attention.”
As we all agreed, he dismissed us to collect our new uniforms, leaving me thinking about where I was now.
I’d joined the Air Force to get through college because my parents couldn’t afford it, and they had Raoul and my sister, Catalina, to consider after me. As soon as I’d graduated, I was in the military and working my ass off.
People hear about the USAF and assume we’re either pilots or maintenance crew, but I went in to join the Ground Forces. At twenty-eight, I became a Captain, and it was one of the proudest moments of my life.
Three years later, I realized I was burnt out and needed a change.
Yes, I could blame it on the incident in Raqqa that’d ended up with me being burned from ass to chest on one side, but I’d known before then that I was reaching the end. I felt guilty for feeling that way, but Ground Forces were special operations and exhausting mentally and physically, and I’d reached my max.
I was thirty-one when I decided to leave as I was recovering from the burns, and at thirty-two, after months of sick leave and using up the vacation time I’d never used in years, I left the Air Force. I was lucky that DB had offered me a job here, and I loved it because it appealed to the military side of me but also allowed me to live a relatively civilian life.