A Late Night Wait

It was a dark and cold night. My feet were freezing inside my work boots, and the cold wind blew harshly on my face. The ground I was sitting on was frozen dry and did not do me well as I waited. As a police officer, I was used to extreme situations like this – but I cannot deny the fact that it was really really cold, especially with the fact that I was waiting outside hiding behind the bushes by a dim dirt road.

The coldness seemed to be less tolerable as time went by. Waiting for a few minutes is acceptable. Add a few more minutes, it would still be tolerable. But waiting for hours requires a great amount of patience and would trigger thoughts to fly about your head.

I looked at my surroundings as I waited that cold night. All around me were trees and bushes of different shapes. A few yards from the dirt road in front of me led to a small path that was lit by an old lamppost. This small path then led to the only house in the wide field of grass and trees. The house, just like the lamppost, was old and tattered. It was small and painted a dirty white. But despite this seemingly dilapidated condition of the house, it was probably brightened up during the day by the garden just beside it.

I then remembered my only son, ten years of age. He would have loved to live here – just running and playing all around the field. He loved astronomy. With this thought, I then looked up at the sky and saw that there were no stars. It was cloudy.

I sighed. The crickets were chirping a lot louder now.

I then reflected upon what I was doing. Was this worth the wait? I then remembered the conversation I had this morning during shooting practice with Marc, a colleague of mine.

"Great shot as always, Kevin!" he said, after I landed a shot right in the center of the dummy target.

"Just lucky," I replied. "For now."

"You're really humble, you know that?" Marc said before shooting, landing a few inches to the left of my previous shot.

"Not bad," I said.

"Oh well, I'm beat for now!" Marc said. "By the way, I'm going to tell you something shocking that happened last night that only a few people know about."

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's about Chief Wilson," said Marc in a hushed tone.

"What about him?"

"Last night, a woman named Ruth, 19 years old, filed a complaint against him," said Marc. "Rape and Sexual harassment."

"No, really? Chief Wilson?" I asked out of shock. "He's one of the most respectable figures I have ever known!"

"I know, and I am just as shocked as you are," replied Marc. "Look, this is really a secret. Only Assistant Chief Miller - the one who handled the complaint, and I - who was with him, know about this case. Miller insisted I keep it secret, but I ended up telling it to you, so just don't tell it to anyone please."

I nodded. "Does Chief Wilson know about this?"

"Assistant Chief Miller said he would inform Chief Wilson of the report but has had no response from him as of now."

"Where is Chief Wilson?"

"Somewhere out of town, I presume. Probably on the run."

  I then shook my head in disbelief. "This is unbelievable. What can you say about this?"

"I don't know, honestly," Marc frowned and put a hand on his neck. "But when you look at it, all facts point to Chief Wilson being guilty. He is unmarried and goes home early in the afternoon. I looked at this Ruth's file, she has no immediate family and lives alone in an isolated house. She works the night shift at some burger shop. Do you get what I'm insinuating?"

"But what if this Ruth made it all up? Who knows if she or someone else has a grudge on the Chief and wanted him to lose his job?"

"It's a difficult case, really," shrugged Marc. "But the fact that a person would have the courage to speak up against a police officer, more so the head of the department... I just can't think of another reason unless someone paid her a fortune to do it."

"Well, I just hope the best for both parties... that this will be taken care of," I said.

  "Yeah, so do I."

This conversation about Chief Wilson and a girl with dull brown hair and brown eyes, but with well-defined features has been stuck to my mind. Chief Wilson has forever been like a father to me ever since I entered the department. He would give me food, advice, and the lot. He had a welcoming smile and was friends with almost everyone in the department. However, despite his good traits, I could also not forget how he scolded me in front of other officers every time I messed up paper works. He was really like a father to me. And in this cold weather, he was like the fire - giving you the warmth you need, but if you're too close, you'll get burned.

It has been three hours since I started waiting, and now I hear the footsteps I've been waiting for. In the dim light, I made out the silhouette of my target. I was trained for this. I cannot miss.

I readied my gun, and just as the target's footsteps was near, I quickly stood up and walked right in front of my target and made my shot. All of it happened quickly, but I remembered seeing Ruth's well-defined face curled up in shock, her body shot right in the middle. I smiled as her body dropped to the ground. It was a success. Nobody would know about this. I am protected.

Before I left, I made a quick text to Miller. "Mission Accomplished," it said. For the pay, this really was worth the wait.