Exceptional Merit Read Free Page B

dealing with hardened criminals and witnessing many gruesome and heinous crimes, they always became a little hard.  It wasn't their choice, Keegan understood.  It was a matter of survival and a way to deal with the harsh realities of the job.  “Why don't you tell me how you came upon this collar?”
    Esposito began to explain.  “Well, sir, Tony and I had just turned out for the midnight tour.  We just got a cup of coffee and we were sitting by the Long Island Rail Road's Douglaston Station drinking the coffee when we heard a bunch of shots.  Honestly, Tony said they were gunshots. I’d never heard gunshots before except at the pistol range,” Esposito sheepishly admitted.
    Keegan understood.  Being so young on the job in what was probably one of the quietest precincts in the city; one wouldn’t hear gun shots too often. “That's all right.  Go on.”
    “It was only about a minute later when we saw the Buick come flying away from where we’d heard the shots.  The car had its headlights off and Tony said to me, ‘This is the guy that just let those rounds go, kid.’  He told me if we wanted to get this guy I'd better step on it, and if I didn't care about it to let…”  Esposito then caught himself, remembering he was talking to a supervisor and not wanting to get his partner in trouble he edited his story slightly.  “I mean, he said I'd better get moving before this guy got away.  We followed the car along Douglaston Parkway until it stopped in a vacant parking lot.  We got out of our RMP and began to approach his car.   He got out of his car with a gun in his hand.  I thought I was going to get killed.  I reached for my own gun and  remember Tony yelling to me to take cover, but before I could, the man put the gun to his own head and yelled, ‘In the name of Allah.’  Then, I heard the click of a gun’s hammer falling on an empty chamber.  We tackled him and without any resistance, I placed him in handcuffs.  When I looked at the gun I saw it was a .44 caliber snub nose revolver with all five chambers containing spent shells.”
    Keegan nodded, showing his approval.  “You did one hell of a job, Esposito.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “Esposito, I tell you what.  I’m personally going to write you up for a Commendation.  I see you don't have any medals.  A Commendation is a pretty high medal.  Not bad for your first one.  Send me a copy of all of the paperwork and your information (and your partner’s, too) in department mail when you get the chance.”
    Esposito looked satisfied.  Cops liked medals.  It was a way of bragging to other cops without having to say a word.  Cops were always impressed when they spotted another cop with a nice rack of medals.  Keegan would probably be considered a highly decorated officer, as he had been cited with over fifty medals in his eighteen-year career, not to mention the medal he and his men would be receiving for the thwarted courthouse bombings.  Keegan reflected on the night's events over the forty-minute drive back to his East Northport home.  Something Robert Wolf had said kept haunting him as he pondered it.  What exactly was a professional terrorist?   It's a contradiction of terms, he thought.  There is no such thing.  Can you imagine if it were a job or something, a professional terrorist?
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Chapter 2
     
     
    “Would you like me to fix you something for lunch?” Kate asked as she brought Keegan his coffee.  The couple sat in the kitchen of their suburban home.  The kitchen had been recently remodeled.  With light oak cabinets and a charcoal grey countertop and backsplash, the kitchen looked pristine.  It had cost over six thousand dollars to get redone, including the all new stainless steel appliances, but Kate was thrilled with how it turned out and that was all that mattered to Keegan.
    “No thanks, sweetheart. I'm not hungry.  Just a bit tired.  It’s been quite some time since