Vincent nodded in agreement, and pointed at the rifle again. “There’s something to be said for that. But you won’t be attempting or settling anything if you don’t get that goddamn scope on there!”
They got to work.
* * *
Starbuck’s coffee houses were one of the businesses that were friendly to open-carriers, and that’s why their group often chose to meet there. Being headquartered in liberal Seattle, the company had been targeted by gun control groups in a campaign to force them to change their policy and bar guns from their stores. It had backfired though, and left the gun control people with a lot of egg on their faces. Starbuck’s had refused to cave, and asserted that they would follow state law on the issue, which clearly stated that open carry was legal.
It was in the early evening after his day at the range with Vincent that Randy walked into the Forest Hill Starbuck’s. He walked to the counter and ordered a coffee for himself. He looked around, not knowing what the young man looked like, but he easily spotted the Beretta on his hip as he sat in a booth by the window. Will obviously wasn’t being deterred by what had happened to him in the park.
Randy collected his coffee and went to the booth where Will sat. “I’m Randy Gustin,” he said.
“Will Stendahl,” came the reply. They shook hands, and Randy sat across from him.
“I looked at your forum and read up on what happened,” Randy said. “What do you have going so far?”
“Well, I’ve got a lawyer looking into a lawsuit. But with a store manager willing to say I was acting like a threat, that might not go so well.”
“I hope it does go well,” Randy said. “But in the meantime, I have another solution for you to look at. Are you familiar with the gun rights bill that was introduced in Arizona?”
“You’re talking about that one that penalizes public officials if they detain, arrest, or otherwise hassle you for legally carrying?”
“That’s the one.”
“I love that bill. I wish we could get it introduced here.”
“That’s exactly what I want to talk about.” Randy opened his folder and handed Will a sheet of paper. “This is a version I drafted for our state. I call it the ‘Lawful Carry Of Weapons Bill.”
Will glanced it over. “You made some changes to the Arizona version.”
“For the most part, it has the same effect,” Randy said. “It makes any cop who detains, arrests, seizes your weapon, or otherwise harasses you without any cause guilty of Official Misconduct, which in this state is a gross misdemeanor. It also requires a prosecutor to investigate and prosecute such crimes. But the best part is at the end.”
Will skimmed to the last paragraph. “It makes any cop who is found guilty ineligible to work in law enforcement in this state? Now that I like!”
“I figure that’s what it’ll take to really get their attention.”
Will nodded in agreement. “So what’s your background in doing this sort of thing?”
“As yet, I don’t really have one. I write to legislators on these issues like everybody else does, but this is the first time I’ve taken on a real project like this.”
“So what are your qualifications?”
“Well one, I’m involved enough to understand the legislative process. Two, for quite a while now I’ve been battling on this issue with the construction company I work for, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I know the secrets to making people pay attention, and I know how to shoot down opposition.”
“How come you don’t let the NRA and the other major groups take care of this?”
“Because in this state at least, they’ll never get around to it,” Randy replied. “Every year, they’re too busy playing defense against the onslaught of gun control bills, just like the anti-gunners intend for them to do. Besides which, a lot of the time they’re so worried about looking ‘reasonable’ to the other side that they’re supporting minor expansions of gun control. Especially when it comes to expanding the scope of the NICS system.” Randy was referring to the National Instant Check System, which was used by the FBI for doing background checks for gun purchases.
“Why is that bad?”
“The NICS system? Let’s just say that the NRA isn’t thinking ahead when it comes to how badly that system can be abused. Right now the Feds are concentrating on expanding the scope of the system to the point where it becomes inescapable for gun owners, and the NRA is hell bent on helping them make that happen. When that’s been accomplished, that’s when the nightmare begins.”
“What nightmare?”
“Ask yourself, what’s the question on the mind of a person who has gotten a denial from NICS? The question is, ‘Does this mean they’re coming to my home to search for guns and ammo?’ Well, that’s going to start happening. While people are busy trying to straighten out whatever led to the denial, the feds will show up. And if they find weapons, they can hit the person with a ten-year felony for every one of them. Even if the denial itself was based on a flimsy excuse, or even if it was completely bogus, under Federal law that person is prohibited from possessing a weapon. And they can be fucked over for life if they’re found with one.”
“I don’t know,” Will said. “I think it’s kind of a stretch to think they’d do that to everyone who got a denial. The backlash would be huge.”
“Who said they’d have to do it to everyone? All they need to do is make the occasional example out of someone, and think of the chilling effect that would have on gun purchases. Would you sign your name to the Federal form with that axe hanging over you?”
“My background isn’t completely spotless, but it’s pretty clean.”
“Mine too. But the trouble is that the FBI keeps dreaming up ways to reinterpret the laws to mean that you’re actually denied in some way or another,” Randy said. “As it is, it’s possible to avoid the system by not making dealer purchases, but they’re finding ways to close that option off for just this reason. Ways like requiring a NICS check to keep your concealed pistol license, which is something else they just helped the feds accomplish in this state. The NRA was completely insane to hand this kind of power to the FBI to begin with, and they’re completely insane to help them expand it too. The only reason I can figure they keep supporting it is because not doing so would mean admitting they were wrong.”
Will nodded. “So anyhow…”
“Anyhow, we won’t be planning on any substantial support from the NRA in this project. We’ll be on our own.”
“You think this has a chance of going anywhere?”
“Well, that’s the part that depends on you,” Randy replied. “I could take this bill to the Capitol myself, but no one would listen to me because I’m not an open carrier and I’ve never been drawn down on for carrying like you have. So this issue doesn’t really affect me.”
“But me on the other hand…”
“You’ve got real standing in the issue, and you have a real stake in its outcome. That makes you a lot harder to ignore.”
“What do you see as being at stake exactly?”
“Among other things, you don’t want to get shot.” Will’s eyebrows went up a little, as Randy went on. “ Remember Rick Camat?”
In the year 2000 at the age of twenty-eight, Rick Camat had been part of a lottery pool in California that took the jackpot, and naturally he had lived pretty well since then. Then in October of ’04 he had been clubbing with some friends and with his younger brother in downtown Seattle. As they left a bar at closing time, fights started breaking out, Rick had fired a pistol once in the melee, and shortly thereafter police had showed up and killed him.
“Oh yes, I remember that case very well,” Will replied. “As I remember, there were a couple different versions of what happened. Camat’s brother said he fired once in the air, and the cops said he fired at a car full of people.”
“Well, based on your own experience with police honesty, whose version would you buy?” Randy asked. “The guy’s brother said the
y shot him in the back without warning. The cops said they warned him repeatedly, and then he ducked behind a car and aimed at them. The cops also said that the brother’s version differed from the witness accounts, but none of those witness accounts were ever reported in the media. That just leaves the word of the brother and the cops to go by.”
“Don’t forget about the bullet impact from Camat’s gun.”
“Where’d they find that?”
“They didn’t. That makes the fired-at-the-car theory a little harder to swallow.”
Randy nodded as he remembered. “As I remember, they also never explained how it was they shot him in the back while he was aiming at them.” They both sat quietly for a moment, as the coffee shop continued to bustle about them.
“So if he wasn’t threatening anyone, why do you think they shot him?”
“I wasn’t there, so it’s impossible to say for sure,” Randy replied. “But he was exercising armed force. Cops see force as their sole domain. Whenever someone draws a weapon and solves a problem, their power is threatened just because the job got done without them. If that’s why Rick was shot, he wouldn’t be the first it happened to by a longshot. And that’s the kind of case you need to keep in mind when you have run-ins with law enforcement.”
“You really think that could happen to someone like me?”
“In a sense, you’re doing the same thing Rick did. Even worse, you’re advertising the right to exercise armed force to the public. That pisses them off on a level they’ll never admit out loud.” Will sat back for a moment, thinking about the gun that had been put to his wife’s head. “You know it’s on at least some of their minds. And it’s a fact of life that in one of these episodes like what happened to you, they could drop the hammer on you and get away with it clean. Just like they always do.”
Will thought about that for a moment. He still wasn’t sure about Randy’s idea, but he liked the idea of guns in hands with itchy trigger fingers being pointed at him and his wife even less. “So if we do this, what exactly would you need from me?”
“I would need you to take a leadership position on the project. Be a representative for your movement and work with me on promoting it.”
“Promoting it where?”
“Everywhere. Gun rights forums are where we build up our main support. We also have to write letters and op-eds for newspapers, and press releases too. You’ll need your own blog site to post articles and keep people updated. And, we’ll be contacting lawmakers to find sponsors and start it moving through the process.”
Will looked a bit overwhelmed. “That sounds like a hell of a commitment.”
Randy smiled. “Freedom isn’t free, as the saying goes. Some people donate money or time to causes they support. Myself, I plan to start spending my time and money doing the work myself. I figure that way I’ll get the biggest bang for my buck.”
“I thought I was doing pretty good at promoting my issue just by carrying openly like this, and showing people we have that right.” Will said.
“You have been, but when you take up an issue, you have to be ready to see it through. If you let this incident pass on by without trying to really fix the problem, then you’ve handed them a victory. And their power to abuse people grows a little bit further.”
Will agreed with his point, and told Randy he’d consider the proposal. They chatted some more about their past encounters with law enforcement, and marveled about the similar threads that ran through them all.
They finished their coffee and parted ways. As they left the coffee shop, Randy noticed some of the looks that Will’s gun drew. Many people paid no attention. A few looked bemused or surprised to see such a thing, and a few others gave his weapon downright hostile looks. On their mission to make open carry of guns the social norm, they had quite a ways to go.
Randy got in his truck, pulled out of the lot and headed for home. It was cloudy and rain began to sprinkle. It was well into autumn, and the occasional wind gust would blow leaves onto the road and his windshield. Just a few blocks after he turned onto the main road headed toward his home, he passed a traffic stop in progress, one of the types that the officer wants to make a scene out of. The cop had the driver sitting on the hood of his own car wearing handcuffs. The man looked none too pleased, as anyone would, but otherwise harmless. So why was he wearing cuffs? Most likely it was just to assert that the cop could make him do so. That wasn’t something he remembered seeing in years past, but now he was seeing it more and more.
As he passed the scene, the cop turned his face toward traffic and Randy recognized him as Preston Mintz. In school he’d been one year ahead of Randy. As older kids went, he’d been one of the decent ones, but the time he had spent in this line of work had apparently changed him.
Time certainly had a way of changing people.
* * *
The office of Police Chief Burt Grandstone was fairly modest, not being that of a big city department. But he liked it that way, because appearances mattered. A grandiose appearance gave the impression of immodest and grandiose designs, and that sort of appearance made people want to keep a closer eye on you.
Burt was staring intently at his computer as his door opened and his senior officers began to file in. Sylvester Frawley came first, followed by Byron Palmer, with Jack Hayward coming through third. They all grabbed chairs and sat before Burt’s desk, then turned back to the still-open door.
Finally the last of his sergeants came in. Her name was Robin Frisk. She was 31, her hair was long and red, and the rest of her could only be described using words like dynamite, bombshell, or other explosive items. She had the distinction of being one of the few female cops there was who did fitness competitions.
“Robin, don’t forget to sign into the meeting,” Burt said to her, pointing to a clipboard on the wall. She walked over, picked up the pen and signed in.
“How come nobody else is signed in?” she asked.
Burt cracked a little smile. “They’ll get signed in later,” he replied. In truth, maybe they would trouble themselves to do so and maybe not. While she had been facing the wall, they were all getting their morning rush.
She sat down next to the other men and attention turned back to business. “Gentlemen and lady, we are here to talk about some recommendations I’ve brought back from the training seminar I was at last week.”
“I’ve been wondering if anything came out of that other than a paid trip,” Sylvester chimed in.
“Well Sergeant, you can be satisfied that we got our money’s worth.” Burt passed some papers to each of them. “These are some new training memos I’ve put together. As you may or may not be aware, a lot of internet forums are devoting time to discussions about dealing with police while carrying weapons. We need to address the problem of interacting with people who are armed, whether they’re carrying legally or not.”
“I thought we did that by checking their concealed pistol license,” Robin said, “and arresting them if it wasn’t in order.”
“In some cases that will still work fine,” Burt replied. “But with people openly sharing information on how to thwart officers who want to take safety measures during a stop, we’re going to need to step things up a little.” Burt turned his computer screen toward them, and they saw an online forum. “Have a look at this page.”
The four officers read down the forum page. The top post was from a guy who had been detained and had his concealed weapon taken, just because someone had noticed it and become alarmed. He was asking other forum members about how far police powers extend in that area, and what he could do about it next time. From there on down, all the posts were from people advising him that police had no right to do what they did, and offering ways to challenge their authority to do so. There was quite a bit of anger at police evident in some of the posts.
As they scrolled down the page, they read accounts from people who had been successful at citing the laws on Terry stops, demanding RAS (reasonable articulated suspici
on) and similar methods for persuading police in these instances to back down.
“Pretty much every gun-related discussion board has conversations like this now, and we’re running into these people more and more.” Burt went on. “And to be blunt, we need to put them back in their place. So our policy for dealing with armed people will be as follows. First, all armed individuals will be considered a potential threat, and we will go straight to condition yellow. Backup will be called if not already present. The subject will be disarmed. If they give us any grief whatsoever, they will be disarmed in handcuffs with our weapons drawn.”
“Even if they’re licensed and otherwise cooperating?” Robin asked.
“Especially then,” Burt replied. Robin found it hard to hide her surprise. “The average dirtbag already knows who’s boss. What we need to put a lid on is the citizen who thinks they’re as high up the food chain as we are.” Burt leaned a little bit in Robin’s direction. “I hope that’s not a problem.”
“No sir,” she replied. She was pretty convincing too.
“That’s good,” Burt smiled. “There’s a whole world out there that has it in for us, and we all have to be on the same side.” The other men nodded in agreement. They wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but aside from being difficult not to stare at, they all considered Robin to be a little bit on the naïve side. “Now I don’t have a problem with people having a right to carry weapons, or even with them exercising it,” Burt went on. “But at the same time, they need to understand that our right to feel safe and in control of every situation supercedes that right in every case. And they also need to understand that any misuse of that right, or straying outside of it, or inappropriately standing on their rights will result in them finding out what it’s like on the receiving end of our right to insure our safety, by use of our own weapons if need be.”
Sylvester cracked a smile. “I for one think it’s about goddamn time. These pricks have been getting way too full of themselves lately.”
“How about legal issues?” Byron Palmer asked. “This is asking for lawsuits.”
“In point of fact, we’re contending with one right now, over the park incident,” Burt replied. “But that’s something we have no choice but to contend with, because the pressure is on us right now to start playing nice with these people and let them have their way. This is a time when we have to either assert our powers or lose them.” They spent a moment letting that point sink in. The last thing in the world any of them could tolerate was Joe Citizen reading them the law.
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