Free Gifted by Peter David Page B

interesting to their readership. 74 Immediately they started to pepper her with questions, which she found somewhat irritating since obviously she had only just begun explaining the facts of the matter to them. She raised her hands to quiet them, and they responded.
    “I’m going to show you some video footage now,” she said slowly, carefully, as if explaining things to idiots…which, to some degree, they were. “I am warning you now, it is very graphic in nature, and it is only by the merest happenstance that we have it in our possession. This footage was shot for a television program called
Patrol
, in which a videographer is sent on ride-alongs with police officers. The purpose of the program is to show policemen performing their normal, everyday duties. To convey to the viewership how patrols are oftentimes extended tours of boredom, punctuated by occasional unexpected violence. Not to sound melodramatic, but this particular evening, the officers got much more than they bargained for.”
    The remote control for the video, already set up, was on her podium right where it was supposed to be. She picked it up and activated it. “These particular officers are Raymond Hoyt, whom you’ll see on the right, and Lazlo Richards at the wheel.”
    The screen flared to life. Officer Hoyt was turned around in the driver’s seat, addressing the camera. “
We get reports from neighbors all the time. Couple screaming at each other…usually they’ve had a few drinks. They need to calm down. That’s what we’re there to accomplish. But they see us and it just, you know…it can be inflammatory. The uniform. Always gotta compensate. Defuse.”
    A house was now visible through the windshield of the car. Richards spoke up without looking into the camera.
“Domestics, they’re the 75 worst. You never know what you’re going to be walking into. Might be a power couple who both had a bad day at the office and all you need to do is talk them down.”
Richards continued talking as they climbed out of the car, his back still to the camera. “
On the other hand, could be, y’know, a guy with a rap sheet a mile long who’s packing, and suddenly you’re in a firefight…
”
    They approached the front door, the unseen cameraman still sitting in the car. Suddenly there was a horrifying scream. High-pitched, female, and this wasn’t simply the sound of a woman being threatened by a brutal husband. This was someone who knew that she was facing something—not someone—that was going to kill her in a matter of seconds. The sort of terrifying sound that seared itself into the brains of the listeners and would remain there until their dying day.
    “
God
,” Richards said.
    Hoyt shoved at the front door to no avail and bellowed, “
Back door! Now
!”
    They tore around the side of the building while the cameraman was still stumbling to get out of the vehicle. Then he was running, the camera bouncing slightly in the grand tradition of
cinema verite
. He came around the rear of the house to find the back door wide open, and then there was another scream, a man this time, sounding just as terrified as the female had been. If anyone watching the video had thought the husband was about to murder his wife, they now knew there was far more than a simple homicide involved.
    For just a heartbeat, the camera’s point of view didn’t move. It was clear that the cameraman was hesitating. There was something terrible going on in that house, something that was more than the 76 cameraman was expecting or prepared to deal with, and he was taking a moment to screw up his nerve sufficiently to go inside. Then he finally managed to do so, and the camera point of view followed in the wake of the cops.
    Kavita watched with finely honed impassivity. She wasn’t bothering to look at the screen. Instead she was watching the news people, seeing them react, bracing themselves for whatever was about to happen. It was clearly going to be really, really