Chapter 13: The Training Scenario
Monday, May 28, 2018 - LAPD Training Facility, 9:00 AM
The scenario briefing room smelled like gun oil and nervous sweat. All three rookies sat front row. Behind us, every training officer had shown up—Tim, Lopez, Bishop. Even Grey and Captain Andersen stood in the back, observing.
"Active shooter scenario," the training coordinator announced. "Multiple rooms, hostages, armed suspects. You'll run it individually, staggered starts. Scored on speed, safety, tactical decisions, and communication."
Lucy bounced her leg. Jackson cracked his knuckles. Nolan sat perfectly still, processing.
My danger sense hummed low. Not real danger. Just adrenaline and anticipation creating false positives.
"This is your month-one evaluation," Grey added. "Performance here determines your rotation assignments going forward. Make it count."
Captain Andersen's eyes found mine briefly. I'd been at Mid-Wilshire specifically because Aunt Rebecca had called in favors. Andersen had approved it reluctantly—rich kid playing cop. Now she was watching to see if that assessment was accurate.
Don't screw this up.
John Nolan's POV
They called me first. Oldest rookie goes first—probably figured I'd set the baseline for everyone else.
The scenario building was a converted warehouse, rooms constructed from plywood and two-by-fours. Hostage actors wore bright yellow vests. Suspect actors wore red.
"Start."
I entered tactical, weapon drawn, announcing presence. Room one clear. Room two—hostage, secured. Room three—suspect with weapon, verbal commands, simulated arrest. Room four—two hostages, one suspect behind cover.
The scenario took twelve minutes. I was methodical, careful, hit every protocol. When I exited, the evaluators made notes without expression.
"How'd it feel?" Lucy asked when I returned to the waiting area.
"Long. Stressful." I wiped sweat from my forehead. "You'll do better. You're faster."
"Damn right I am."
Lucy Chen's POV - 10:47 AM
I breached the first door hard. Aggressive entry, quick clear, moving fast. This was my chance to prove I wasn't just Tim's boot—I was a capable officer who could handle high-stress situations.
Room one: clear. Room two: hostage, secured in four seconds. Room three: suspect, disarmed, controlled. Room four: two hostages, one suspect.
I went loud. Commanded attention, drew suspect's focus, created opening for "backup" to flank. Risky but effective.
Eight minutes, thirty seconds.
Tim's expression when I exited was unreadable. Could've been approval. Could've been "you took unnecessary risks." With Tim, those often looked identical.
Jackson West's POV - 11:15 AM
By-the-book. That was my strength. I wasn't the fastest or the most aggressive, but I was thorough.
Room one: clear, documented. Room two: hostage, secured with proper positioning. Room three: suspect, verbal commands per training, escalation of force appropriate. Room four: called for backup before engaging multiple threats.
Ten minutes, fifteen seconds.
Solid. Not spectacular. But competent.
Dad would say that's all that mattered. Competence kept you alive. Flash got you killed.
When I exited, Lopez nodded. That was high praise from her.
Ethan Mercer's POV - 11:45 AM
My turn.
The danger sense activated the moment I crossed the threshold. Not warning of real danger—just mapping the environment, flagging potential threat areas like a mental radar.
Room one: left corner, concealment position. Room two: doorway creates fatal funnel. Room three: multiple angles of attack.
"Start."
I moved. The copy ability had been integrating techniques for six weeks now. Tim's aggressive positioning. Lopez's tactical awareness. Bishop's communication protocols. My body executed them fluidly, switching between styles as the situation demanded.
Room one: cleared using Tim's corner-checking method. Fast, efficient.
Room two: hostage secured with Lopez's positioning—never crossed my own line of fire, maintained escape route.
Room three: suspect confrontation. I used Bishop's verbal commands—clear, authoritative, professional. Disarmed using a combination technique I'd copied from Tim and modified in training.
Room four: the complex scenario. Two hostages, one armed suspect using them as shields.
My danger sense guided me. Circle right—suspect's weak side. Lopez's tactical positioning. Call out to divide suspect's attention—Bishop's communication. Move when attention splits—Tim's aggression.
The suspect "surrendered." Hostages "secured."
Seven minutes, forty-eight seconds.
Tim Bradford's POV
The kid had just run my tactical approach, Lopez's positioning strategy, and Bishop's communication protocols in a seamless combination that shouldn't have been possible after six weeks of rotating training.
"How the hell—" Lucy started.
"He's been rotating through all of us," Lopez said quietly. "Learned from everyone."
"Nobody learns that fast," I countered.
"Apparently Mercer does."
Captain Andersen made notes, expression neutral. Grey's eyebrow was at maximum elevation.
The kid exited the scenario building, breathing hard but controlled. No panic. No adrenaline crash. Just professional execution.
"Maybe too well," I muttered.
Lopez heard me. Nodded.
Captain Zoe Andersen's POV
I pulled Officer Mercer aside while the evaluators compiled scores. The other rookies were debriefing with their TOs.
"Interesting performance, Officer Mercer."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Your family wanted you here specifically. At this station." I studied him. "I was skeptical. Rich kid playing cop. Figured you'd wash out in a month."
His jaw tightened but he didn't respond.
"You're putting in the work. Real work. Not coasting on money or connections." I paused. "Don't make me regret approving your assignment."
"I won't, ma'am."
"Good." I handed him the evaluation sheet. "Seven forty-eight. Highest score today. Best combination of speed and safety. Congratulations."
He took the sheet, looking more nervous than pleased.
"Ma'am? Can I ask something?"
"Go ahead."
"Why did you approve my assignment? If you thought I'd wash out?"
I smiled. "Because your aunt said you needed this. Not wanted—needed. And I've known Rebecca Mercer long enough to trust her judgment. She said you were trying to find purpose. Looks like you found it."
Tuesday Evening, May 29, 2018 - Ethan's Mansion
The scores were posted. Nolan: 10/15. Jackson: 11/15. Lucy: 13/15 (points deducted for unnecessary risk). Ethan: 14/15 (points deducted for using untrained combination technique without backup confirmation).
My phone buzzed with congratulations texts. Lucy's included: Show-off.
Jackson's: Dinner this weekend? My treat. You earned it.
Nolan's: Proud of you, neighbor.
Even Tim sent something: Good work. Don't let it go to your head.
I sat in the too-big house, staring at the evaluation sheet. Captain Andersen's signature at the bottom. The woman who'd be killed by Armstrong if I didn't stop it.
She approved my assignment. Trusted me despite her doubts. I owe her more than just good police work.
I added to my Armstrong file: Priority increased. Captain Andersen's trust must be honored. Failure is not acceptable.
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