“Baker one oh three, Baker one oh three and a backer, respond to a disturbance at 1301 N Trenton Circle,” crackled over Jake Dillon’s radio as he sat slumped in the driver’s seat of his police cruiser.
Pausing the movie on his laptop, Jake closed the lid and slid it into the backpack in the passenger seat. Jake pulled the mic from its cradle and keyed the send button.
“Baker one oh three, go ahead.”
The dispatcher continued, “Baker one oh three and backer, anonymous caller reports a fight and a woman screaming at this address. Break”
“Go ahead,” Jake responded.
“Baker one oh three, caller states that disturbance has been ongoing since midnight and it’s getting out of hand. Time now oh one thirteen”.
Parked beside Jake is his academy buddy Lane White.
“You comin’?” Jake asks.
Lane looks up groggily from a book leaning against the steering wheel.
“Sure,” Lane yawns.
Mic still in hand, Jake keys up. “Dispatch, put Charlie one fifteen with me,” and slides the mic back in its carriage.
“Baker one oh three copy. Charlie one fifteen will be backing,” the dispatcher acknowledges.
“You know this address don’t you?” Jake asks, putting the car in gear.
Lane rubs a hand across the stubble of his military haircut, an eyebrow raised in thought.