Breaking News -
it only took them less than 30 min before CNN and BBC were on Air Live, in Kellyton, a small, sleepy town in Alabama, spreading their Breaking News around the world.
“Yes, a young woman was shot right here today.” A male reporter said, speaking softly into his microphone.
He pointed with his left hand, to the exact spot, where not long ago the young woman laid sprawled out and injured. The reporter stood inches from the location, which was still stained with her blood.
“Something terrible happened here. She was shot by a white, male officer. Is this another police shooting driven by ill-intentions? We do not know now, but one thing’s for sure.
For the sake of justice, we will find out. All we know at the moment is that she is being treated at the local hospital.
Everything about her is a mystery, from her nationality, to her name and age, but we are talking to a few eye-witnesses right now. We will report back in 10 minutes with more information.” He said quickly, ending his report.
20 minutes earlier, before the news was publicly released on live television, the news had already reached the Sheriff’s office in a three-story building.
It was a big office in the main centre of a vast room with many chairs and desks in it. On each desk was a computer desktop, a container of pen and pencils, a yellow notepad, a clipboard with report forms attached, and also a telephone. On some of the desks, the paperwork was piled high.
Sheriff King was angry - he was always angry, but today he was furious when he heard the news.
He was a tall man in his early fifties. He was fit as a fiddle with full, light-brown hair.“Who shot who? I need him here right now, where is he?” He shouted into the thin air. Everyone in the office heard him, but only the Deputy answered. “He’s on his way over, Sheriff, but we need to talk privately,” he said, eying the other officers around him. “In your closed office, sir.”
At the back of the room, there were 2 more offices. One for the Sheriff and one for his secretary.
The Deputy spoke first, “ you’re not going to like this but…
it was your son who shot that woman.”
“What?!”, the Sheriff yelled.
The secretary next door almost jumped in her seat when she heard him yell. She was a young, pretty African-American lady, aged 22.
She had graduated from university with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology, but this was the only job she could find. Nobody wanted to work here, especially knowing Sheriff King’s relentless reputation. That’s why she got the job. She was over qualified for this position, but she still accepted it gracefully. “This is better than nothing,” her mother had said. So she took the job without hesitation.
Her intercom flashed red and beeped, indicating that her boss was on the line. She pressed down the button and spoke, “yes?”
“Fetch us some coffee uhhh…Susan, right. Thank-you.”
She stood up immediately, “Oh fine. Now he remembers my name. Oh, how I hate this job,” she mumbled under her breath.
She walked to the other side of the big office, to the small kitchen.
She quickly poured two, hot steaming coffees into two big mugs, then she briskly passed her office door and walked to the Sheriff’s office.
She knocked on the door politely, balancing the two coffee mugs in her hands.
“Come in,” the Deputy called.
She walked in, handing them, one by one, their hot coffees.
“Thank you,” they both echoed.
“You’re welcome,” she said with a warm smile. Then she left the room. Walking towards her desk, she heard them talking.
She forgot to turn off her intercom device.
She reached forward to turn it off, when she heard the Sheriff talk. She stood back, shocked!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Back at the hospital, it took an emergency operation to save the woman.
They successfully removed the 2 bullets from her back and her shoulder. The surgeon examined her bruised head. Pulling her long, dark-hair back, he gently shaved the front portion of it off, exposing the big, nasty cut on her forehead. Together with the nursing team, he cleaned up the wound. She moved slightly, opening and closing her deep, emerald eyes, going in and out of unconsciousness.
He injected a long needle into her head. A mixture of antibiotics and sedatives entered into her bloodstream to numb it. When her head was numbed, he began to sew up the long cut, closing the wound.
She was left with a big scar, across her head. Dr. Jacobs instructed his head nurse to bandage her head, then he left the room.
His job had been done well. He had earned his break now, he felt thirsty.
Together with his 2 assistant doctors, he entered the canteen. He sent one of the young doctors to fetch them some food and drinks. Then he relaxed, he was tired.
“So what’s the story about her? She’s very lucky she had no serious head injuries. Her guardian angel definitely saved her.”
“Yeah, because she fell on him,” the 2nd young doctor said laughing.
Dr. Jacobs looked at him and thought, “what a stupid idiot he is,” but he laughed anyway. The 1st assistant doctor came back carrying two trays filled with food and drinks. They ate and drank together for a while, then they continued talking.
The 2nd doctor said, “her name is Anne Smith, and she was shot by a policeman. It’s really strange how there are so many police shootings nowadays. Why did he shoot her?”
Dr. Jacobs said, “the police around her are too aggressive. You only have to say or do the wrong thing and they go crazy! Who’s protecting who here? That’s what I have to say.”
“That’s the crazy thing. She’s not even from around here” the 2nd doctor said.
“Where is she from?” Dr. Jacobs asked, looking up suddenly. He saw his head nurse rushing towards him.
“Dr. Jacobs, we need you. It’s an emergency,” she said softly. “Sorry to disturb you while you are eating, but we need you upstairs.”
He got up slowly and sighed, “Ok men, break time’s over. Let’s go.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Back at the Sheriff’s office, Sheriff King sat down behind his desk, making himself comfortable.
The Deputy sat opposite from him.
Sipping his coffee, the Sherriff said slowly, “so he killed another Black person…”
“Hey, hey…take it easy, we don’t even know if she is Black or if she is dead, let’s just wait. Any minute now we will get a fax from the hospital telling us who she is. Don’t jump the gun just yet,” the Deputy said worriedly.
“Jump the gun? My son did that already. I really hope she’s not Black…if she is then we are going to have a race riot on our hands, just like in Detroit. That’s the last thing we need here. Why did he shoot her?”
“Don’t worry, we will cover for him like the last incident with that Black student. We made him look like a drug addict…and nobody asked anymore questions… I’m sure we can do it again,” the Deputy said confidently.
“Yeah, I’m listening. Where is that fax?” He pressed the intercom roughly. “Susan, has the fax come in?”
Susan sat stiffly in her seat listening, she could not believe how cold-blooded they were just to protect a murderer. Son or not.
She knew she had to do something about it. Expose the truth. Bring justice back for the black student that his son killed.
She tried to compose herself and think quickly. Then he called her again. She felt numb. It took her a few seconds before she could open her mouth and answer.
“Yes, it’s here. I’ll bring it right over now.”
“Good girl,” the Sheriff said warmly.
She went nervously in his office, handed him over the fax paper, and walked slowly back to the door clinching her fists to avoid showing her shaking hands. He looked at her, “is everything ok Susan?”
She stopped, turning back around and forced a warm smile. “Yes, Sheriff. Everything is fine.”
Back at her desk, she began to listen again…
- To be continued -
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