have influenced any of your actions during these shootings?”
He felt the heat rise to his face. “This ‘event’ has influenced every single moment of my life since. But it hasn’t altered my professional judgment.”
“You don’t think that you may have been feeling…aggressive or…retaliatory?”
“Had I not been in fear for my life or concerned for the lives of others, I would have done everything in my power to bring those fugitives in alive. Everything in my power.”
Pat tilted back in his chair and made a little temple with his pudgy fingers. “Really?”
Tim stood up and placed both his hands palm down on the table. “I am a deputy U.S. marshal. Do I look like a soldier of fortune to you?”
“Listen—”
“I’m not talking to you, ma’am.” Tim didn’t remove his eyes from Pat. Pat remained tilted back in his chair, fingers pressed together. When it became clear he wasn’t going to respond, Tim reached over and turned off the tape recorder. “I’m done answering questions. Anything further, you can talk to my FLEOA rep.”
Reed rose as Tim exited, but Pat and the woman remained seated. As Tim walked away, he could hear Reed start laying into them. The marshal’s assistant stood as he passed her, heading for Tannino’s office.
“Tim, he’s in with someone right now. You can’t just—”
Tim knocked on the marshal’s door, then opened it. Tannino sat behind an immense wood desk. An overweight man in a dark suit was sprawled on the couch opposite, smoking a brown cigarette.
“Marshal Tannino, I’m very sorry to interrupt you, but I really need a moment.”
“Of course.” Tannino exchanged a few words of Italian with the man as he showed him out. He closed the door, then waved a hand at the cigarette smoke, shaking his head. “Diplomats.” He gestured to the couch. “Please, sit.”
Though he didn’t want to, Tim sat. His dress shirt was pinching him at the shoulders.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, Rackley. The press is bad. Now, I understand you weren’t one of the knuckleheads throwing high fives, but you were the shooter, and we both know shooters take the scrutiny. Deserved or not, the service got a black eye on this one. Here’s the good news: The shooting review board is convening next week at headquarters, and they’re going to clear you.”
“They don’t seem like they’re going to clear me. They seem like they’re looking for a scapegoat for a situation that doesn’t demand one.”
“They will clear you. All the written statements are in and check out. They just sent out a few board members to run your statement through the ringer in-house so steps won’t have to be taken out of house. We don’t want any FBI involvement here. Or some state DA looking to make a name.”
“What’s the bad news?”
Tannino puffed out his cheeks in a sigh. “We’re gonna put you on light duty for a while, get you off the street until the press calms down. In a couple of months, we’ll get you qualified on a fresh service pistol.”
At first Tim was not sure he’d heard Tannino correctly. “A couple of months ?”
“No big deal—you’ll just do analytical work rather than fieldwork.”
“And while I’m putting my training to use making schedules at the operations desk, what is the unparalleled service PR machine going to be putting out about me?”
Tannino walked over and examined a Walker .44 cap-and-ball sixgun that hung on the wall, encased in Lucite. A black plastic comb protruded from the back pocket of his suit pants. “That you’ve quite responsibly elected to enroll in an anger-management course.”
“Absolutely not.”
“That’s it. It’s a nothing thing. Then headquarters can stand behind your decision to engage with deadly force, and we’re a big happy family again.”
“What does this have to do with Maybeck and Denley high-fiving?”
“Absolutely nothing. But this is a bullshit perception game, as you’ll see if you’re ever
He felt the heat rise to his face. “This ‘event’ has influenced every single moment of my life since. But it hasn’t altered my professional judgment.”
“You don’t think that you may have been feeling…aggressive or…retaliatory?”
“Had I not been in fear for my life or concerned for the lives of others, I would have done everything in my power to bring those fugitives in alive. Everything in my power.”
Pat tilted back in his chair and made a little temple with his pudgy fingers. “Really?”
Tim stood up and placed both his hands palm down on the table. “I am a deputy U.S. marshal. Do I look like a soldier of fortune to you?”
“Listen—”
“I’m not talking to you, ma’am.” Tim didn’t remove his eyes from Pat. Pat remained tilted back in his chair, fingers pressed together. When it became clear he wasn’t going to respond, Tim reached over and turned off the tape recorder. “I’m done answering questions. Anything further, you can talk to my FLEOA rep.”
Reed rose as Tim exited, but Pat and the woman remained seated. As Tim walked away, he could hear Reed start laying into them. The marshal’s assistant stood as he passed her, heading for Tannino’s office.
“Tim, he’s in with someone right now. You can’t just—”
Tim knocked on the marshal’s door, then opened it. Tannino sat behind an immense wood desk. An overweight man in a dark suit was sprawled on the couch opposite, smoking a brown cigarette.
“Marshal Tannino, I’m very sorry to interrupt you, but I really need a moment.”
“Of course.” Tannino exchanged a few words of Italian with the man as he showed him out. He closed the door, then waved a hand at the cigarette smoke, shaking his head. “Diplomats.” He gestured to the couch. “Please, sit.”
Though he didn’t want to, Tim sat. His dress shirt was pinching him at the shoulders.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, Rackley. The press is bad. Now, I understand you weren’t one of the knuckleheads throwing high fives, but you were the shooter, and we both know shooters take the scrutiny. Deserved or not, the service got a black eye on this one. Here’s the good news: The shooting review board is convening next week at headquarters, and they’re going to clear you.”
“They don’t seem like they’re going to clear me. They seem like they’re looking for a scapegoat for a situation that doesn’t demand one.”
“They will clear you. All the written statements are in and check out. They just sent out a few board members to run your statement through the ringer in-house so steps won’t have to be taken out of house. We don’t want any FBI involvement here. Or some state DA looking to make a name.”
“What’s the bad news?”
Tannino puffed out his cheeks in a sigh. “We’re gonna put you on light duty for a while, get you off the street until the press calms down. In a couple of months, we’ll get you qualified on a fresh service pistol.”
At first Tim was not sure he’d heard Tannino correctly. “A couple of months ?”
“No big deal—you’ll just do analytical work rather than fieldwork.”
“And while I’m putting my training to use making schedules at the operations desk, what is the unparalleled service PR machine going to be putting out about me?”
Tannino walked over and examined a Walker .44 cap-and-ball sixgun that hung on the wall, encased in Lucite. A black plastic comb protruded from the back pocket of his suit pants. “That you’ve quite responsibly elected to enroll in an anger-management course.”
“Absolutely not.”
“That’s it. It’s a nothing thing. Then headquarters can stand behind your decision to engage with deadly force, and we’re a big happy family again.”
“What does this have to do with Maybeck and Denley high-fiving?”
“Absolutely nothing. But this is a bullshit perception game, as you’ll see if you’re ever
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