Counter-terrorism Stories

Taylor and Matt had their doors open before she put the vehicle in park. They stopped along the street with their rear blue lights activated, already hearing curses from the people of the night gathered at the street corner. Peachtree Street was the melting pot of the slums. Section 8 housing brought every race together under the umbrella of poverty and crime. ‘The towers,’ as cops called them, were a series of aged and r...

“Don’t go 10-8,” Taylor pleaded. “Why?” Matt furrowed his brow. “You know, the second you put us in service, dispatch is gonna send us that stupid domestic on Peachtree.” “No, I’m going to ask for the disorderly in our zone,” Matt reassured and batted away his partner’s extended hand. “Don’t worry, this dispatcher likes me. She always sends me winking faces on her work messages to me.” “She does that to everyone,” Taylor...