First Collar

I remember…how could I not? I knew it would be an important day for me, but not like that.

Graduating from the police academy…that’s a big deal, no matter who you are. For a gnome, though, it was momentous. I was the first gnome to complete the New Amsterdam Police Academy, and the only female in my class to pin and cuff our hand-to-hand instructor solo. Twenty years of halfling martial arts came in handy to get that slippery elf on the floor.

Commissioner Laura O’Leary gave the commencement address and handed out the badges, standing by as the candidate’s chosen person to pin the badge did the honor. Next to her stood Deputy Bureau Chief Thornhill, the highest-ranking halfling in the NAPD.

The commissioner was short for a human, and was completely hidden behind all of the candidates before me as they accepted their badges and the active or retired officer they chose to pin it on did so. I, of course, was far shorter than she.

She had asked to pin my badge, and of course I said yes to such an honor. It was as she was pinning my badge that I saw it. A small, red dot appeared just above my head, and was moving up toward her heart.

“Gun!” I grabbed her by the knees and twisted my body, toppling her to the floor just as the shot rang out. For the briefest second, I thought I’d been hit, but realized what the sharp pain in my left breast was. O’Leary’s momentary shock was replaced by a no-nonsense, take-charge demeanor.

“Shots fired, shots fired,” she called on the radio. “Block all the exits. No one goes anywhere until we find this asshole. Active shooter, Hedstrom Theatre.” She pulled her weapon and began scanning what she could see from behind the podium.

Dispatch responded by calling all available units for backup, and called on SWAT to respond, standard for an active shooter in a public setting.

Thornhill, as well, had his pistol drawn. He made his way to the edge of the stage, scanning for any sign of the shooter.

It was then that O’Leary realized she was still laying on top of me. She rolled off and asked, “Are you okay, Farber?”

“Yes, ma’am, except for the badge.” As I pulled the pin of the badge out my breast, I looked at the hole in the wall, and made a rough guess as to where her chest had been a moment before. I could visualize the bullet’s trajectory and extrapolate back to its origin. “The shooter’s on the lower balcony level, a little to the right of center.”

“You saw him?”

“No. I saw the laser dot, and based on the height of the dot at your heart, and the height of the hole in the wall, together with the slight deviation to the left of the podium—”

She cut me off. “You’re good with eyeballing geometry?”

“Something like that.”

She was about to key her radio when someone else transmitted. “Rifle abandoned on the lower balcony level, no one around.”

“Touch nothing, keep everyone else away.”

“10-4.”

I looked at the commissioner. “Who wants you dead?” I asked.

“Who doesn’t?” she asked back with a chuckle.

There were at least as many active police officers as candidates in attendance, and everyone quickly paired up with an armed officer to spread out and search the building. O’Leary sent one third of the group to search from the roof down, one third to search from the basement up, and left the last to secure all the exits.

I was paired up with her in this last third. Embarrassing as it was, I wasted no time telling her, “Ma’am, I need to pee.”

“Not surprised,” she said. “I’ll walk with you to the john.”

Despite the chatter on the radio, and the large number of people combing the building from top to bottom, it was silent in that way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

She stood outside the door as I went into the women’s room. I took care of my business and was washing my hands when I smelled it…gunpowder. I took my time drying my hands, watching the only closed stall door. When I didn’t see any movement, I got an idea.

I opened the door to the hall and signaled to O’Leary to be quiet and waved her in. We let the door close as I pointed to the stall. For a moment, nothing happened, then the stall door opened, and an elf woman stepped out, wearing a candidate uniform.

She looked at us and jumped. “Oh! Ma’am. Hey, Farber.”

“What are you doing in here?” O’Leary asked.

“I, uh…ran. I was scared.”

“Who are you?” I asked. Her nameplate said Macza which is pretty much the Elvish equivalent of Smith. “How is it I spent six months living in the Academy dorms and never once saw you before today?”

“Come on, Farber, you know me.” She moved closer; her actions more casual than her demeanor.

“Let’s everyone relax,” O’Leary said. She stepped in front of me with her hands behind her back. She was pointing at the cuffs in the pouch at the back of her belt. When she felt me lift them out she spread her hands out. “Everyone calm?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the elf said.

O’Leary let her arms drop to her sides, and the elf struck; a powerful blow that rocked her head and loosed blood from her nose. O’Leary fell to the floor and the elf ran for the door.

I saw the opportunity and jumped, cuffing her wrist to the door’s heavy, steel handle. I helped the commissioner back to her feet.

O’Leary nodded at me and handed me her second pair of cuffs. “Your collar,” she said.

I stepped behind the elf, who was now under the aim of the commissioner’s pistol. “Put your left hand behind your back,” I said. I cuffed her left wrist and waited for O’Leary to release the cuff from the other wrist to pull that hand behind her.

When the elf tried to twist free, I pulled on the cuff and kicked the back of her left knee, sending her to the ground. With the fight gone out of her, I cuffed her other wrist.

I Mirandized her, checked her for weapons, and kept her there on her knees until other units came in to cart her away.

It turned out that the elf worked for Gavin Blackwell, as in the Blackwell syndicate. The attempt on O’Leary was retaliation for his uncle, the previous syndicate leader, who died during a shoot-out with police just a few days earlier.

So, before our class’s graduation ceremony was complete, I had my first collar, Sephia Elstrah. A professional killer, and the key to bringing down the rest of the Blackwell syndicate.

I remember. How could I not?