The Riot
Sandra stood by the office window and looked down at the crowd gathered around the ICE detention center across the street. The building had been locked down since noon. It was nearly midnight.
Below, people waved signs, chanted slogans, and occasionally hurled things at the police barricades. A police cruiser sat overturned on its side like a dead beetle. Someone had spray-painted a slogan across the undercarriage.
Another riot.
Another “mostly peaceful protest.”
Another set of politicians issuing strongly-worded statements.
Another set of reporters explaining why the violence wasn’t really violence.
Another promise that someone, somewhere, would eventually restore order.
Nobody ever did.
Around her, the office floor looked like a refugee camp. Rachel, from Legal sat at her desk, watching the endless replay of news footage. Every few minutes she would shake her head and mutter something at the television.
Robert, the building’s security guard, had stretched out on a couch in one of the conference rooms. His radio sat on the table beside him, occasionally crackling to life with updates from other floors.
A familiar melody chirped from somewhere behind her.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star...” Andy fumbled for his phone.
“Hey babe,” he answered. “Yeah, we’re still stuck here.”
Sandra looked back out the window.
“No, they’re saying another hour. Maybe two.”
Outside, another bottle sailed through the air. Glass shattered.
Andy sighed. “No, I’m fine. Just tired. Love you too.”
He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
Outside, the crowd surged against the police line. Inside, the television silently replayed the same burning police car for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Somebody should do something.” Andy muttered.
Sandra kept staring out the window.
“Yeah.” she said quietly.
“Somebody should.”
Sandra sat on the roof of the office building.
She pulled out her cheap radio, and keyed it up.
“Mary had a little lamb” she said, into the radio.
“It’s fleece was white as snow” Andy replied
“And everywhere that Mary went...” Rachel, said, in turn
“The lamb was sure to go.” Robert said, finally.
Sandra snuck down the ladder, took off her balaclava, and tossed her cheap jacket and sweatpants into the incinerator on the top floor waste unit. She changed back into her snappy office dress, and walked back into the hallway, and took the elevator down to the lobby.
Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she walked to the parking garage. “Hi Jim!” she said cheerfully, to the guy behind the counter. He waved, not looking up from his phone.
She jimmied the garage floor door with her credit card, avoiding her keycard, to not leave a trace. She checked the fit of her cheap blonde wig, and walked out to the garage.
She walked past her BMW, and instead took the ancient Ford Explorer that she had parked in the back several weeks ago. She opened the door manually with a key, and sat in the ancient SUV.
It smelled harshly of stale cigarettes. Probably why it was so cheap. She tried to start the SUV, but it just ticked. Damnit. She was prepared, though. She popped the hood, exited the car, and grabbed a bag out of the back.
She pulled a jumpstarting battery out, and connected it up. She sat down back in the drivers’s seat and started the car again. It coughed a few puffs of smoke, and started right up. She walked to the battery pack and checked teh voltage. 14.8 volts. Good.
She put the battery away, tossed her bag in the passenger seat, and buttoned up the hood.
Sandra drove the old SUV out to an abandoned warehouse a half mile from her office. She parked in the back of the warehouse. She left the vehicle running, stepped out, and removed the license plates from the vehicle.
She replaced them with a set of fakes she had made (registered to a judge’s son who drove a similar vehicle) and sat back down, closing the door.
She opened the bag on her passenger seat, and pulled out a Glock 17, purchased from someone at a gun show, and press checked. She replaced it in a holster, and attached it under her dress.
She pulled out her radio, and clicked to transmit. “Twinkle Twinkle, little star.” she said, put the radio down, slammed the truck into gear, and sped out back toward the action.
Andy was in the middle of the riot, holding a sign that said, “ICE OUT OF TOWN!” He shouted along with the crowd. He heard Sandra over the radio in his earpiece. “Twinkle Twinkle little star...” she said.
Andy subtly dropped the sign, fiddled with something in his backpack and worked his way up to the front of the crowd, and dropped his backpack in the middle of the throng of people. “I’m a little teapot.” he said into his radio.
Rachel was at the front of the crowd, wearing a blue helmet that said “Legal Aid Observer.” She was recording the sorry excuse of a protest, as rioters banged their signs on ICE vehicles. Agents jumped out, and created a cordon around the vehicle.
Rachel heard Sandra over the earpiece on her radio. “Twinkle Twinkle little star...” she heard. Rachel pressed the transmit button and replied, “Hey Diddle Diddle...”
She focused her camera on the riot leader, who was holding a bullhorn, shouting.
Robert looked through the ATN X-sight pro scope, and watched the crowd. He had the riot leader targeted with his rifle.
He heard Sandra over the radio, “Twinkle Twinkle Little star...” she said. Robert responded, “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall...”
Sandra drove toward the action. She approached an intersection near the rear of the riot. Rioters had the entire area blocked. She honked her horn. Rioters from the side street rushed toward her, and banged on her car, slamming their fists against her window.
Sandra grinned, as she inched her SUV forward, slowly.
The crowd rushed toward Sandra, banging on her windows. The rear tailgate window shattered Her right hand sauntered to the holstered Glock, praying she wouldn’t need it.
Andy filtered through the crowd. He pulled a remote control out of his pocket, and thumbed a button. A loud “Thump” went off near the front of the crowd. “Tip me over and pour me out...” he said as he disappeared into the crowd.
The bag of teargas canisters in Andy’s bag went off with a loud *THUMP*. People in the crowd coughed and ran toward Sandra and her SUV. The throng grew denser and denser, like a pressure cooker.
Sandra kept inching her SUV through the crowd, as the crowd got angrier, now slamming their signs against the windows. Her passenger window shattered. She kept inching through the crowd.
Robert picked his target and took a shot. The riot leader’s bullhorn exploded in a shower of plastic and sparks. “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.” he said into his radio, and quickly packed up his gear.
The crowd was in a full on panic, rushing in all directions. Sandra reached the end of the intersection, the crowd thinning out. She had a clear direction, gunned the engine, and sped off. She heard a thump as her passenger mirror clipped a rioter.
She drove for half a mile, took a turn, and jumped out of the SUV when the coast was clear. She pulled off the cheap blonde wig, and tossed it in a nearby dumpster. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk as she calmly walked to the bar just down the street.
Sandra walked into the mens’ bathroom, and pulled out the trash can. She removed the trash bag, and pulled her phone out of the bottom. She replaced the trashcan, and walked out. “It’s all clear” Andy said.
Sandra woke with a start, as Andy, her intern nudged her shoulder gently. “Wake up. The cops gave the all clear. We can go home.” he said, tired. She looked at her watch. 1AM.