Fulton Street Plaza

By Gerald G. Doane

Fulton Street Plaza is fiction. Any resemblance in our story to real persons, living or dead; real businesses, organizations, agencies, departments or bureaus; real cities, towns, or locations; or real events is purely coincidental. Our story takes place in Cincinnati, at San Quentin, and in San Francisco during the 1970’s and featu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Code-4-Productions
• Release date: Jul 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781732482012

Gerald G. Doane

I began learning about safety and security after enlisting in the United States Marine Corps in 1957. During Boot Camp, one of our tasks was to learn, by rote, the Ten General Orders. These General Orders were the policies and procedures of the Marine Corps established for Marines while standing interior guard. Later in my Marine Corps career, I learned, as a Radio Telegraph Operator, much about information security. In 1963 I became a San Francisco Police Officer. As a State of California Peace Officer my principle job was to enforce the safety and security policies (laws) of the state, to protect life and property, and to keep the peace while respecting the rights of the individual citizen. In 1973 I was fully promoted to Sergeant and was assigned many tasks including writing and editing a two-volume manual of policy and procedure, teaching officer safety and security protocols, and managing training programs. In 1978 I transferred to the San Rafael Police Department where I was promoted to lieutenant and became a Watch Commander and leader of two special operational units. In 1980, I left law enforcement to manage the security policies of CrownZellerbach Corporation, a major multinational forest products corporation. While there, my job was to protect the assets of the corporation by managing the security policies established by the corporation's Board of Directors. This is when and where I managed the considerable safety and security policies of the corporation. In 1986 CrownZellerbach Corporation became controlled by outside interests who broke the corporation into parts and sold the parts to others. I retired and formed my independent investigation and security consulting firm. During the period 1980 to 1997, I was a member of the American Society of Industrial Security (ASIS) and was a Certified Protection Professional (CPP). In 1997 I retired my business. My wife and I moved to Oregon and purchased a small farm. But I was not through with safety and security just yet. It seemed working our small farm was not enough stimulus in my life. So, I took a job with the Portland, Oregon Police Bureau (PPB) where I worked the front desk at Central Precinct on the night watch, and, worked our small farm during the day. At the PPB, I monitored site safety and security systems, assisted in citizen requests for police services, and performed administrative and support duties for our officers. Police work was still in my heart and brain. I retired from PPB in 2009. I did some volunteer work with the Central Cascades Fire and EMS (CCF&E) located in Crescent Lake, Oregon from about 2010 until 2013. I was an elected Director at Large to the department's Board of Directors. Both my wife and I were also volunteer firefighters at CCF&E until we left Oregon and returned to California. In addition to my work, I have extensive teaching experiences at The San Francisco Police Academy; City College of San Francisco; San Jose State University, Administration of Justice Bureau; Northwestern University, The Traffic Institute; The Canadian Police College. and other venues such as the Kansas City, Missouri Police Department, the Texas Department of Public Safety, and the Hennepin County, Minnesota Police Chiefs Association. My academic career included attending Oklahoma State University; receiving an Associate of Arts degree from City College of San Francisco; receiving a Bachelor of Arts degree from Golden Gate University; receiving a Master of Public Administration degree from the University of Southern California; and, earning a Life Time California Community College Instructor Credential for Public Services and Administration/Police Science.

Book preview

Cast

Albert, SFPD, Chief of Police

Benjamin, SFPD, Commander, Chief of Patrol

Berta, Plaza Bakeries Manager, Elle’s Mother

Bob, Plaza Meat Market - Deli Manager

Bryan, SFPD Officer, Victim Terrorist Attack

Carlos, Guerrilla, Terrorist

Cecil, Former Parolee, Owner Top Mops

Charlene, FBI Special Agent

Charlie, SFPD Chief of Detectives

Conrad, SFPD Lieutenant, Negotiator

Damon, San Quentin Parolee

Daniel, SFPD Sergeant

Debra, Plaza Grocery Clerk

Delores, Plaza Accountant, Lou’s Wife

Dick, SFPD Officer

Doris, Lou and Delores’ Daughter

Doug, SFPD Detective Sergeant Robbery-Homicide

Edward, NYPD Chief of Detectives

Elle, Plaza Bakery Worker

Erhard, Wehrmacht Officer, Berta’s Husband

Frank, SFPD Officer, Sergeant Special Operations

Franklin, CEO Martinelli Meats & Deli

Frieda, Plaza Lunch Counter Worker

George, SFPD Officer, Victim Terrorist Attack

Greg, SFPD Officer, Commander Special Operations

Hawk, NYPD Chief Psychologist

Hugo, SFPD Officer, Victim Terrorist Attack

Irene, SFPD Desk Clerk Central Precinct

Jamal, San Quentin Parolee

Jerry, SFPD SpecOps-3, Entry Team Leader

Jesse, Jon’ell’s Mom

John, SFPD Detective Robbery-Homicide

Johnny, Cincinnati Reds Player

Jon’ell, Vietnam Veteran, San Quentin Parolee

Joy’ell, Jon’ell’s Sister

Kelvin, SFPD Central-200, Operations Officer

Kirby, SFPD Central Station Desk Sergeant

Laura, Cincinnati Reds Fan

Lou, Plaza General Manager

Louis, FBI Special Agent

Mari, Vicke’s Roommate, ‘Movement’ Member

Mary, Plaza Grocery Clerk

Michael, SFPD Officer

Mindy, SFPD Officer

Nick, Plaza Drug Store Manager

Pete, Cincinnati Reds Player

Ralph, NYPD Lieutenant-Commander

Raymond (Ray), Channel 7 TV News Cameraman

Rene, Todd’s Girlfriend

Ricardo, Plaza Security Officer, Asst. Patrol Special

Rich, SFPD Central Station Watch Commander

Richard, SFPD Officer, Victim Terrorist Attack

Robert, Parole Officer, Half-Way House ‘Mother’

Robert (TV Bob), Channel 7 TV News Reporter

Rosie, Jesse Alley Administrator, Police Consultant

Scott, Plaza Produce Manager

Steve, Parole Officer, Negotiator

Steven, SFPD Officer, Victim Terrorist Attack

Ted, SFPD Officer, Lieutenant, Watch Commander

Teri, Channel 7 TV News Noon News Anchor

Theodore, SFPD Night-Watch Commander

Thomas, Cincinnati Reds Fan

Todd, Domestic Violence Suspect, Parolee

Tom, SFPD Lieutenant, Incident Commander

Vicke, Jesse Alley Employee, Jamal’s Girlfriend

Wayne, Plaza Grocery Manager

Wilhelm, SFPD Deputy Chief of Police

William, SFPD Officer, Sergeant, Negotiator

Willis, SFPD Central-3 Officer

Chapter One - Cincinnati

Benjamin and Greg stood near the front gates to River Front Stadium staring at the marquee which read, Reds vs. Giants – Sunday, 1:30 PM. Both were baseball fans and were looking forward to watching the Reds’ Pete and Johnny compete against their team, the Giants.

Benjamin was a SFPD Captain and Chief of the Patrol Division, and Greg was a SFPD Lieutenant and Commander of the Special Operations Unit. They had arrived in Cincinnati the day before on a flight from their home town and were scheduled to attend a conference on Urban Violence sponsored by the Police Chiefs Association and hosted by the City of Cincinnati.

The conference was to begin the next day, on Monday. They were looking forward to a bit of baseball relief before listening in boredom to war stories about violence in American cities. Both knew all about urban violence and had experienced it first-hand.

Benjamin was a burly guy with a bald head, receding gums and crooked teeth. Some say he looked like a combination of the actors Ernest Borgnine and Telly Savalas. When he spoke, the earth shook. Loud, profane, but smart as a whip, he had risen to the top echelons of the Department through sheer guts, savvy and determination.

Known as a tough, street smart cop, Benjamin bullied his way through the City’s Central, Northern, Northeastern, and Southern Districts for almost a generation before graduating up the ranks to oversee the Patrol Division’s seven Police Districts.

Greg was tall, slender and somewhat soft spoken. Jet black hair and a ruddy complexion, he looked a little like George Hamilton the actor. He was a promising minor league baseball player after high school until a freak injury ruined his baseball career. After serving in the military for three years, Greg joined the Department because he had nothing better to do.

Police work turned out to be Greg’s forte. He worked the outlying Police Districts and went to school during his off hours, ultimately earning a master’s degree at a local university. He studied hard for his sergeant and lieutenant exams, overcoming the city’s reliance on seniority for promotional purposes to become the youngest leader of the Department’s Special Operations Unit.

Benjamin and Greg got along well. Their personalities differed greatly but were complementary to each other. Benjamin had asked the Chief of Police to assign Greg the Special Operations Command because he trusted Greg to lead the unit in the right direction, Benjamin’s direction.

Benjamin was a disciplinarian in an undisciplined organization. Alcoholism, even drug abuse, poor work ethic, corruption, and unauthorized use of force issues were unacceptable to him, but that was his challenge in managing the Patrol Division.

Benjamin knew Greg wouldn’t condone those things in Special Operations. Benjamin would be less successful with the seven District Captains he managed. The culture was too strong, too engrained to change overnight and he was always put in a position where Precinct Captains would go behind his back, making their appeals directly to the Chief of Police or Deputy Chief of Police.

It was a sunny, beautiful Sunday afternoon at Riverfront Stadium. People were moving into the Reds’ park for the 1:30 PM game with the Giants.

Greg made a move toward the ticket office when he was approached by a middle age man and a good looking, younger blonde woman. The man said to Greg, We saw you looking for tickets. I have two tickets for my boys who couldn’t make it to today’s game. Would you like to buy their tickets for half price? That’s nine bucks each.

Greg looked toward Benjamin, who nodded his approval, and Greg said, Sure, here’s a twenty and keep the change.

The four walked into the stadium and took their seats. The man said to Greg, My name is Thomas, and this is my wife Laura. We are from Toledo and we come to Red’s games often. My boys are with their mother for the weekend and she wanted them with her, so here we are. Are you two from around here?

Greg replied, No, California, here for a conference this week and we wanted to see if Pete and The Big Red Machine can whip our team into shape. My name is Greg, and this is Benjamin.

Greg noticed Laura stared at him as he spoke with Thomas. He thought egotistically, Either I remind her of someone or she likes what she sees.

Greg, like all cops, was keenly observant, situational awareness in police jargon. Always checking out the environment, looking for threats, checking out vehicles, assessing people’s behavior. It saved his life more than once.

Greg’s mind wandered back four years ago when he was a sergeant, backing up one of his units responding to a gas station robbery-in-progress. As he arrived at the scene, he saw two of his officers, William and Mindy, had a suspect at gunpoint, hands in the air, under the gas pump canopy. There was another person, a male, on the ground nearby, with blood streaming from his head onto the concrete.

Greg pulled his cruiser to a stop near the gas station’s convenience store. His job now was to cover his officers, not to supervise them. Visually searching the entire area for threats and seeing none, he walked slowly toward his officers, service weapon at the ready.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he saw movement coming from the convenience store. He wheeled to his right, crouched in a fighting stance, and aimed his service weapon toward the blur. A shot rang out. Greg felt a sting in his left leg. It was a pellet from the blast of a sawed-off shotgun carried by a male suspect running from the store.

Greg returned fire, missing his target as the suspect ran past his police cruiser. Greg yelled, Freeze motherfucker or I’ll kill you. Suddenly, the target stopped, dropping the old single-shot shotgun with sawed-off barrel onto the ground, hands in the air.

The sixteen-year-old was shaking with fear as Greg frisked him for weapons, then shoved the suspect across the hood of his cruiser, holstering his service weapon and then handcuffing the suspect, hands behind the back. Greg looked toward the convenience store for any other possible threats as he pushed the suspect into the back seat of his cruiser.

Greg then looked toward his officers under the gas pump canopy. They had their suspect in handcuffs. A person lay bleeding and motionless on the concrete. Both officers, with their suspect, had taken cover behind their cruiser when the gunfire erupted.

Greg motioned to Mindy and said, Help me clear the convenience store. Service weapons drawn, the two cops searched the store for victims and suspects. They found a female on the floor behind the open cash register, obviously dead with a large hole in her chest.

Both officers searched the restrooms and found a young man … a boy really, hiding in a stall in the women’s toilet. They took him into custody and searched the restroom’s stall for weapons, finding an old revolver hidden inside the toilet’s tank.

William, with suspect in custody under the gas pump canopy, had called for assistance while Mindy and Greg searched the convenience store. Units began to roll onto the scene. William radioed, Code 4, three suspects in custody, as Greg and Mindy came out of the store with the third suspect, Mindy signaling with four fingers extended above her head.

Situation under control, Greg, knowing he was deeply involved as an active participant in the incident, relinquished his incident command and summoned his watch commander, detectives, ambulance, and coroner to the scene. The male victim laying under the canopy was dead as was the female behind the counter inside the store. A robbery gone bad, ending in a double homicide.

Only now did Greg look down at his leg where he felt the sting after the gunshot. Blood was on his shoe. He pulled up his pant leg and found a wound in his calf, a tear in his pantleg. It must have been a ricochet, bouncing off the pavement, fortunate not to receive the full load of the shotgun blast.

Greg’s attention turned back to the baseball game. It was the bottom of the ninth inning and Pete scored a run from third base, making his signature headfirst slide at home plate. The game ended there, Reds 6 and Giants 5. Thomas and Laura were going crazy, jumping up and down for their team. Benjamin and Greg waived good-by and walked out of Riverfront Stadium to the hotel where they were staying and where the conference would begin tomorrow.

Benjamin was first to arrive at the conference room in the Hotel Cincinnati. He was always early. He surveyed the room and watched staff setting up for the conference. He gathered material at the sign-in table and took a seat at the front, near the dais, and began filling out the registration form.

Greg soon joined Benjamin. Good morning, Sir. Did you enjoy the game? asked Greg. Benjamin replied, Yup, you too? Greg said, Yes Sir, very much. I’m glad I got to see Pete slide into home base. What a player!

Benjamin surveyed the conference presenter’s schedule. Federal Bureau of Investigation - FBI, Secret Service - USSS, Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms - BATF, and New York Police Department - NYPD, were listed as presenters. He noted there were no West Coast Departments in the schedule. He thought, Typical, East Coast and the Feds.

Benjamin hated the FBI. He had been caught up in a police corruption case several years ago. Although cleared, the FBI raked him over the coals, unfairly he thought, and he never forgot.

At the time, Benjamin was a Lieutenant at the Northeast Precinct. Officers from the precinct were shaking down taverns, allowing underage females to frequent the bars to attract customers. The cops got kickbacks for looking the other way.

In most cases, the girls were prostituting, and the officers were pimping. Business was booming. The corruption was occurring on the Day-Watch at Northeast and the Day-Watch Commander, a Lieutenant, was involved in the scheme.

Although the FBI and the Department considered the whole precinct rotten, the Mid-Watch was a different story. The Mid-Watch at Northeast was Benjamin’s and he ran a tight ship. No hanky-panky or half-stepping allowed.

Benjamin suspected corruption on the Day-Watch. After all, he had been a cop for years and knew what went on. But he assumed most of that stuff was passé since Albert became Chief of Police.

One of Benjamin’s best officers on the Mid-Watch, Frank, caught a tavern owner harboring underage girls in one of the bars. Frank closed the bar for the night, sent the girls, all runaways, to Juvenile and warned the bar owner, who was emphatic that he did not know the underage status of the girls. Frank wasn’t convinced but warned the tavern owner rather than arresting him.

One week later, Benjamin ordered two other Mid-Watch officers, Michael and Greg, to check out the same tavern for illegal activity, and once again, they found underage girls inside. As they were interviewing the girls to determine age and identity, the bartender pulled a gun from underneath the bar and shouted, Fuck you cops. You shake us down in the daytime and arrest us at night.

Greg, a rookie, saw the gun first. He told his partner, Michael, he’s got a gun. Service weapon drawn, Greg dashed toward the bartender with Michael close behind. Michael literally jumped on top of the bar and shouted, Drop the gun asshole! With two weapons pointed at him, the bartender placed his revolver on top of the bar and put up his hands. Most in the tavern were arrested. Then the shit hit the fan.

The tavern owner spilled the beans to the press. A Pulitzer Prize winning reporter picked up the gauntlet and wrote a series of stories about the corruption. The whole department came under suspicion. Albert, the Chief of Police, instituted an investigation but so did the FBI.

The investigation resulted in three Northeast officers and the Day-Watch Lieutenant going to prison and the Northeast Captain was forced into retirement. Only Benjamin, the Mid-Watch Commander and Theodore, the Night-Watch Commander, were cleared. They were, nevertheless, transferred to other precincts with a stain on their careers. An entire new Command Staff was installed at Northeast Precinct.

The first two days of the conference turned out to be okay in Benjamin’s mind, especially the Secret Service presentation. The whole purpose of the conference was about terrorism, although the Police Chiefs Association called it ‘Urban Violence,’ probably not wanting to offend.

The Munich hostage incident was fresh in the minds of law enforcement. The country, and most large cities therein, had just gone through a violent political revolution. The President of the United States was about to resign. The situation did not look good for law enforcement and Benjamin knew he had better get his act together if something like Munich occurred in his city.

It all began routinely with Edward, NYPD Chief of Detectives whose presentation went well enough. Sort of bureaucratic, but well presented, Edward talked about his job at the police department and how he had traveled to Munich and conversed with Munich and Bavarian State Police