The Archangel Drones (26 page)

But then the game changed. A new shape appeared in the billowy, infrared world displayed on Gabe’s monitors. The K-9 unit, complete with a German shepherd, was now on the scene. The dog found the crouching crook in less than five minutes.

For the first time since the launch, Gabe’s blood pressure increased to an ear-ringing rate. Now was the test. Now it was time to prove that all of his money, time, and energy hadn’t been tossed down a rabbit hole.

The cops were swarming the suspect, the heat of flashlight beams illuminating the culprit as the dog tugged ferociously on his leash. Gabe ordered the customized drone to hover directly over the crook, and then switched on its parabolic microphone.

He’d learned that the police were always conscious of cameras and witnesses. Like the night Jacob had been mauled, they formed a tight semi-circle around the captured carjacker. This ploy often resulted in questionable cellphone videos… the angle, view, and clarity allowing the cops to claim all sorts of justification for their actions. That tactic wouldn’t work with the Gripen.

The lack of light didn’t compromise the aerial vehicle’s camera. In fact, the view was unequaled; the huddle of officers had not bothered to shield any activities from the skies. Gabe had the balcony seats at the opera.

He could see there was a brief struggle, five officers surrounding the prone man, forcing his hands behind his back. And then it was over. No beating, no kicking, no punches thrown.

In a way, Gabe was disappointed. “If you flee, we have an open license on your ass,” one entry on a police forum had boasted. Adam had confirmed the same mentality existed among many cops. Yet, the handcuffed carjacker, now being led back to a patrol car, hadn’t suffered any abuse.

He nudged the G-1’s control, keeping a bird’s eye view as the officers escorted their takedown back to the waiting armada of cruisers, but his mind was no longer centered on the scene playing out below the drone.

“Adam was right,” he whispered. “Not all the cops are bullies. The guys I just watched were the ultimate professionals. Was Jacob’s encountered really the ultra-rare exception?”

Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, Gabe told himself that his newfound doubt was unjustified. His research had shown that the Houston Police Department received over 650 complaints of excessive use of force a year. That statistic equated to almost two grievances per day, and a large percentage of those were submitted by fellow officers within the force.

Yet, he also knew HPD conducted hundreds of arrests daily. The accusations against the force were mathematically a tiny percentage. It only made sense that his first “observation” had been a clean arrest.

With faith in his mission reestablished, Gabe completed his scrutiny of the handcuffed suspect being guided into the backseat of a cruiser, and then ordered the G-1 home.

After verifying the flying robot was indeed plying the correct route, Gabe leaned back in his chair, finally content with the first experiment and already processing a list of improvements that needed to be implemented to ensure his project’s realization.

The rain had finally let up, the stalled front hanging over southeastern Texas for the better part of two days. The Gripen couldn’t fly in high winds or wet weather. It was a weakness in Gabe’s grand scheme of aerial surveillance.

Clear skies and a calm atmosphere confined him to the assembly room, the nearly constant background noise of the police scanner filling the air while he worked on piecing together the G-2 unit.

This time, the call for additional backup units involved three individuals causing a disturbance at a convenience store. The on-scene officer had been assigned to a complaint that one of the individuals was harassing customers. Upon assessment of the situation, he was now requesting assistance.

Gabe turned on the voice to text translation that constantly monitored the police frequencies, converting the radio calls into searchable data. He highlighted the address, listened to make sure the software had it right, and issued the command string to the G-1 unit.

It was late afternoon, and the daylight posed additional risk. Gabe would have to be careful to keep his secret weapon close enough to provide meaningful video, but at a distance not to be noticed by anyone on the ground.

He modified the unit’s programming to cruise at 380 feet, hoping the small profile and grey color exterior would avoid curious eyes. In reality, it was only the authorities or people at the crime scene that were a serious concern.

Less than 15 minutes later, the camera detected several police cars, the responding units parked haphazardly on the lot of a corner gas station and a convenience store. Gabe slowed down the G-1, keeping his distance, and hovering above a nearby empty lot. A quick sequence of buttons engaged the zoom, bringing the picture in close.

There were seven cops now, all of them gathered around three men alongside the building. Gabe could tell that things were getting tense, the body language and hand motions indicating the situation was escalating.

Without warning, one of the cops moved on the tallest suspect, spinning the civilian around and forcing him against the store’s outer wall. In the blink of an eye, all three of the suspects were in a similar position.

Gabe wasn’t listening, but knew the computers were recording both sound and video. He wanted to focus all of his attention on obtaining clear footage.

The largest man against the brick structure wasn’t happy, his head half turned, bobbing up and down as he shouted at the cops. Gabe could see one officer frisking the gentleman while the other kept a close eye on the angry suspect.

When they started to pull the big guy’s hands behind his back, he half turned to protest, and then the cops swarmed in.

Three of the officers tackled the suspect, throwing him to the ground and then piling on. They quickly formed their huddle, but Gabe had been anticipating the move.

Zooming in, he saw a cop manage to handcuff one hand and then the other. By the book, the guy on the ground was now subdued, helpless, and extremely unlikely to pose any threat to the surrounding police.

But they didn’t stop. One policeman stepped forward, landing first one, then a second, and a final, third kick to the prisoner’s ribs. Another officer knelt down, placing a knee onto the back of the man’s head while yet a third pulled his nightstick and struck two blows into the prone fellow’s leg.

Gabe had watched hundreds of internet videos, many of them more disturbing than what was flashing across the Gripen’s monitors in real time. It was still sickening, a knot of bile forming in his stomach.

Evidently, the cops felt enough punishment had been delivered, the huddle breaking up and the now-grimacing suspect half-dragged by his upper arms to one of the police cruisers. The other two men were released.

After ordering the G-1 home, Gabe decided some fresh air was a necessity. Part of his brain was feeling the positive emotions of success, of a reward from all of his hard work and investment. But there was a dark side to the episode as well… the suspect’s beating reminding him of Jacob’s experience.

Stepping out onto the roof and half-watching for the G-1 to return, Gabe realized he was troubled by more than just memories of that horrible night with his son. The ass whooping he’d just witnessed was not the major factor in his funky mood either. The amount and duration of the violence captured by the Gripen’s camera was insignificant as compared to a good bar brawl or gang fight. Most G-rated movies contained more grit.

No, what was eating at Gabe’s soul was the fact that it was the police who had crossed the line. The men who were paid to protect and serve had become the judge and jury, and they had taken it upon themselves to issue the punishment. Public servants… peace officers… government authority… it was all so fundamentally wrong, and that was making him ill.

For the first time in his life, Gabe could relate to the feelings experienced by an abused child. He had just witnessed the trusted guardian, the authority figure charged with protection, suddenly become violent. And for no good reason.

Gabe didn’t know what accusation had been leveled against the trampled man, had zero idea of what had been said during the pre-beating exchange with the cops. According to the law, the suspect’s words didn’t matter: foul language, insults, or calling the cops names should have no bearing on an officer’s handling of the situation. Everyone was supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. What the Gripen had just recorded wasn’t the American way.

As he mulled over what he’d just viewed, a slight buzzing noise sounded from the east. Gabe looked up to see the Gripen approaching, the steady drum of its propellers nearly inaudible until the machine was decreasing its altitude and making for the rooftop landing zone.

He watched the flying robot lower gently onto the pad, and then shut down its electric motors. The video and audio files had long since been transferred back to the main servers, two backup copies probably working their way through encrypted cloud storage even before the drone had flown away from the crime scene. Again, Gabe was proud of his accomplishment. “Now the game begins,” he said to the silent robot. “Now things start getting serious.”

Chapter 8

Peelian Principle

The securing and training of proper persons is at the root of police efficiency.

The squawk of Tony’s cell phone roused the assistant DA from his dreams. With a scowl he snarled, “What now,” reaching toward the nightstand, fumbling for the offending device.

“Tony,” he answered, squinting at the small, but bright display.

“You better switch on the news,” Karen’s voice advised. “This is weird.”

“Yes, ma’am… but… news? What time is it?”

Breathing hard, she answered, “It’s 5:30 AM, Sleeping Beauty, and I am running on a treadmill at the gym. I’m watching the morning show on channel 17, but I’m sure all of the local networks are covering the same thing. Call me back when you are coherent.”

He found the remote and flipped on the bedroom TV. It took a few more clicks before he found a news station.

“Channel 21 Eyewitness News received this video last night from an anonymous source. It shows an interaction between what appears to be Houston Police officers and an as of yet unidentified suspect. We want to warn you, the content of this clip is troubling.”

Tony watched what appeared to be a standard police encounter, noting the number of officers and suspects. At first, he thought the footage was from just another cell phone video, snapped by some onlooker who happened to be in the area. He assumed the elevated angle of the recording was likely someone in a high-rise office building pointing a camera down at the incident.

But when the police started using force, the image gradually changed, obviously being adjusted to see inside the ring of officers surrounding the suspect.

The attorney had to admit it was excellent camera work, the image stable and clear. But how had it been done?

Standing in front of his television, barefoot and in boxer shorts, the attorney stood mesmerized by both the scene and the technology used to capture it. “How in the hell…” he started to question, watching the prone man take several blows from the cops.

The video ended with the suspect finally shoved into the back of a police car. But then something really odd happened. A solid white screen appeared, with the black words, “Citizens Observation Committee – Police Brutality Will Not Be Tolerated.”

Tony was shocked, his thoughts interrupted by the anchor’s voice returning to the air. “Again, Eyewitness News 21 received this video, in its entirety, via an anonymous email late last night. Our video engineers have verified its authenticity, but are unable to determine exactly how it was recorded. Joining me now in the studio, and making a rare on-camera appearance, is our executive producer, Carl Whitfield.”

The broadcast changed to a scene of two men sitting behind the news desk. “Carl,” the announcer continued, “you have over 30 years of experience with video technology. Before we went on the air, you told me this recording was an extremely interesting piece of work. Could you explain to our viewers exactly what is so intriguing about this example?”

“Sure,” replied the obviously uncomfortable gent sitting beside the on-air personality. “The quality of this recording is far and beyond the capabilities of any cell phone or handheld movie camera I’ve ever seen. Its pixel density and sound characteristics are equal to Hollywood movie studio equipment, and yet it obviously was created on a mobile platform.”