The Rules of Engagement

He held the baby like a football, more than with the love that a father should show for his eighteen-month-old son. Like Walter Payton- in one hand, but in the other, a common kitchen knife. The father, unable to solve the problems of his life without violence, now held it to his son’s neck. At times, the baby had trouble getting a breath.

The 911 call came in from his young wife, from a neighbor’s house. He had recently knocked her unconscious as a result of his inability to solve problems constructively. Another casualty in the endless cycle of domestic violence. Now as the police arrived, he saw them and told them to, “Get away or “I’ll kill the kid.”

The responding patrol officers knew to get SWAT on the way quickly. This was a classic hostage situation. Not the kind where a robbery goes bad or strangers take strangers hostage, but far more common, based on a domestic relationship. Some of the SWAT officers were fairly close, having dinner together after a day of training. They began to arrive on scene very quickly.

One of the first dropped down prone near the kitchen window of the trailer. A SWAT sniper, he deployed his long gun only 35 feet away from the window where the suspect held his son without attempt to conceal himself. He knew how quickly this event was unfolding. At the extreme low end of the statistical distance for civilian police sniper events, he dialed his Leupold scope all the way down to 3.5 power to take in the most information that he could. Even then he had more scope than he needed.

The patrol officer negotiated with the suspect through a closed kitchen window. Again in anger, or as if to prove some kind of point, the suspect punched out the window that the sniper was observing him through, removing the last doubt the sniper had for hesitating. Spalling glass moves at the same velocity as the bullet, in this case Federal GM308M, dangerous to the innocent child.

The patrol officer pleaded with the father to drop the knife as the arriving SWAT officers formed a hasty rescue element in the event they were needed. The father answered, pointing to the sniper, “No. Because if I do, that guy will shoot me.” He had it backwards. The 168 grain Sierra BTHP cut a half moon in his front teeth as it removed his brain stem. His legs now no longer had sensory input from his brain to support his weight. He instantly disappeared from view, and the rescue team found the baby, bloody but unharmed, crawling away from his father’s body. Less than 30 minutes had elapsed since the call to 911.

Inevitable Criticism

Whenever the police act to protect the innocent, they will be criticized, especially when it involves taking a life. Here the agency was repeatedly asked why they didn’t negotiate longer. What rules of engagement should police departments follow in critical incidents, where the balance between life and death is so tenuous?

If you stop to think about the function of a tactical team in a hostage or barricade situation, you can correctly assume that a group of heavily armed officers will surround the problem location, negotiators will try to make contact, and reach a negotiated solution. But only in the 90’s has law enforcement been able to describe a proper course of police conduct in life and death critical incidents. A course of conduct that if followed can be defended even in light of a less than desirable outcome.

The method is called “safety prioritization.” Very simple in scope, it provides rules of engagement for police encounters in critical incidents.

The priorities are:

1. Hostages
2. Innocent involved citizens
3. Police Officers
4. The suspect/subject

A “subject” would be defined as the person who is the focus of the police operation, but is not necessarily a suspect because he has committed no crime. An example would be a mental patient barricaded in his own residence, who has done nothing other than to threaten the police if they come in.

For far too long, inadvertently, or at least unintentionally, the police would make the suspect the highest on the priority list, because of an unwillingness or an inability for police managers to make the hard decisions that may lead to criticism of them. The prevailing mindset was that, “We will negotiate, no matter what.” A gamble, a roll of the dice that more often than not ends in a peaceful settlement, about 90 percent of the time. But think about your cherished family members. Would you risk their safety with those odds if they were being held hostage?

The priorities define for us on whose behalf we will act, potentially at the expense of those who are causing their jeopardy. This also removes a popular concept for SWAT in the 70s and 80s, that of “red light/green light” commands by supervisors for dictating when and if snipers may fire.

We allow the greenest rookie on patrol to take a life under clearly defined circumstances without asking anyone for permission. Until relatively recently, however, many departments did not allow a veteran police sniper the latitude to make that call, unless a commander blocks away decided that he had the sufficient justification. Many still don’t allow that latitude. With the dynamics of a hostage situation changing so rapidly, we must trust the judgement of those we have so carefully selected to know when it is justifiable.

In the incident above, the police agency involved in it acted first and only for the life of the hostage child. All other considerations were subordinate, as they should be. Contrary to popular belief, the police do not control the suspect’s actions. Only he does. They may be able to limit his choices, but ultimately, the choices are his to make. The child had no say whatsoever.

The criticism they faced was easy compared to the criticism they would have faced had the father made good on his threat. For them to stand and do nothing, allowing opportunity after opportunity to pass without taking action on behalf of the innocent child, would negate the very reason for their existence. They would then be doomed to a lifetime of wondering how with all their training they had the ability to protect, and instead, witnessed murder. In an instant, he could have disappeared from view, gone into the back bedroom and maimed or killed his son. Instead they clearly knew what to do, because of a well thought-out plan of action. They will act first to save the life of a hostage, at the time when the likelihood of success is the greatest. And that is just what they did. I have chosen not to identify the involved agency, due to the possibility of pending litigation.

It is unfortunate that a life was lost, and worse that the child was deprived of his father. But the father had choices. In the end, he made the wrong choice. Dropping the knife would have spared his life. It might be argued that the mother and the child will be better off, but that is not a choice that is the business of the police to make. We can use deadly force only under very limited circumstances. The father forced their hand. He should be held in the critical light.

If, in any critical incident, the police make their primary mission the protection of innocent life, and are trained and willing to take steps to act, rather than to wait and merely hope for the best, then even if it goes horribly bad, they can defend their actions. For in this prioritization comes the tacit acknowledgment that the police can never guarantee a positive outcome, but only that their actions were based in law, ethics and morality.

Sometimes the mission can be lost in what is called the process. If a madman is walking through a schoolyard shooting children, it is counterproductive to first establish a perimeter, though that may be the “process” for managing most critical incidents. Getting police officers in between the shooter and the children is a wiser course of action. It is also consistent with the safety priorities to risk our lives to protect those of innocent children. There are those who would argue that the life of the police officer is paramount. This is wishful thinking at best. If we really believed that, there would be no reason to leave the police station. Police risk their lives daily and couldn’t do their job if they didn’t.

I said that in my first column that Small Arms Review is a serious publication about serious guns. The readers for the most part are not working tactical officers. Quite the opposite, the reader most likely is a collector and/or enthusiast of Title II firearms. The chances of his ever using one against a human adversary is hopefully nil for all practical purposes.

It is also true that though tactical weapons are bought and used largely by military and police special teams in great quantity, the actual necessity of firing one to save a life or defend a life is in actuality also nil. But all teams across the nation are training for a challenge that may come on a date that they cannot know. They should know that at all times, they must be ready. Thousands of rounds per year in training are expended. We carry a great deal of ammunition on us, when in reality it probably won’t be needed. We by necessity must envision the worst, and be prepared for it. It too can cause criticism, for the very act of being prepared can make a team appear heavy handed or “gunning” for a fight.

“Knuckledraggers”

That is why the demeanor of the individual team member is so critical to the public acceptance of the team as having a valid mission, and the confidence in them to perform that mission. There is a sentiment out there that there are too many tactical teams in existence and that the average American should be alarmed about it.

A recent network television interview of a tactical team in Arizona gave them just the impression that they needed to make their preconceived point, that tactical operators are “knuckledraggers.” The reporter asked why the members wanted to be SWAT officers. One answered in a boastful, arrogant tone, “Hey the bottom line is, it’s friggin’ fun man.” Another said, “We get to play with a lot of guns. Everyone on this team loves guns.” Point made, handed to the reporter on a silver platter, and all SWAT suffers from the sins of the few. If this were the team that righteously solved the above problem, the validity of public skepticism would be raised by the juxtaposition of that incident with the videotape just described.

In my 14 years of police work, I have had occasion to meet many fine police officers from across the country. It is my opinion that by and large, tactical officers are the most dedicated, professional officers on the streets today, and hold themselves to a higher standard. It may be a combination of esprit de corps born of the higher standards imposed on tactical teams and the nature of the problems that they are faced with. Whatever the motivation, there are very few actual knuckledraggers working on teams today.

I sometimes worry whether our team is ready for whatever may come our way. But our team includes some of the most dedicated officers that I have ever worked with. The equipment comes second, for what resides inside of us is the utter singleness of purpose, to do what is right and moral with whatever circumstances that we are faced with. To protect those who are unable to protect themselves.

No matter what you think about police tactical teams, or whether you share the anxiety of some about the militarization of the police, I want to try to give you some perspective in the coming months of what it is like to walk in our shoes, and to tell you about what it is like to be on a tactical team, and to carry a SMG for a living. Though the below account was stylized for interest and readability, it was not a work of fiction.

Small Arms Review is a serious publication about serious guns. Those of us who read it are way beyond the magazine rack pap that is rehashed every year. This gun vs. that, this caliber vs. that, what is the best home defense load, what is the best shooting stance, it is all the same. I could never be a full-time gun writer because I have found that in the course of 13 years in police work, and a lifetime of interest in shooting, that not much of that matters. It probably doesn’t matter to those gun writers either, but it pays the bills. I, as others who write for this magazine, won’t try to give you more of that, a whole lot of nothing.

I do want to try to get you, the law abiding gun owner, into the head of the modern tactical police officer, and to perhaps convince you that you have nothing to fear from us. Though we gain a lot of valuable operational experience from the service of search warrants, we are preparing for a Super Bowl, which may come on a date that we cannot know. A date when all of our training, and equipment, and ability, both as individuals and as a team, will be tested to the maximum. It may be a struggle where the winners will live, and the losers may die. And where lives will be changed forever. My commitment as a team leader and training coordinator on the Columbia, Missouri Police Department STAR Team, is to make our team as ready as possible for that Super Bowl. Because it can happen anywhere, and I want more than anything, for the good, and the innocent to win.

There is very little that we do on an American SWAT team that is or should be secret. I hope to show you over the coming issues, some of what makes us tick, and why we do what we do. I hope you will join me.

The officers looked more like soldiers than civilian keepers of the peace. Kevlar PASGT helmets with navy blue fabric covers, load bearing vests with pockets for extra MP5 magazines, flash bangs, leg holsters, kneepads and combat boots under bloused BDUs. They silently sat across from each other in the back of the raid van, looking at each other, and occasionally to the slung MP5s pointed at the ground between their legs, with their Nomex gloved hands on the forends keeping the guns steady, and the muzzles under control. No laser violations here. Cops for the late 20th century. I wonder what Wyatt Earp would think to gaze upon us now. Except for the pistol strapped to the leg like those in his day, he would surely think we were from outer space.

“Goggles down,” I say as the driver counts down the street addresses out loud until about three away from the target location. An officer pops the back door in preparation for the exit. The driver stops the truck and yells, “Go!” We depart from the safety and anonymity of the unmarked van, toward the house the judge told us to invade, not knowing really what or who is on the other side of the door, and what they will do when we confront them. It always makes me wonder. We are there for crack, and if it goes well, there will be a little blurb in the paper about where we went, what we found, and who went to jail. But what if this time, it doesn’t go well? What if we have to shoot? What if we get shot? I just want to go home in one piece. This warrant will only be a success if everyone comes out unhurt. It may not mean much in this “war on drugs.” Just another battle. One that I participate in willingly.

We approach the house trotting silently together as we pass the houses of the neighbors who will undoubtedly be glad to see us. The MP5s are coming up to the shoulders now, at low ready. Before, in the pre-raid briefing, when the guns were removed from their Eagle discreet cases we each went through our well practiced ritual: Check the rear aperture—large—for close up, and low light, the conditions for this warrant at 9:30 p.m. Retract the bolt and lock it open, check the chamber—empty. Check the magazine, third hole from the top, see a round. Look at the top of the magazine—top round on the left. 30 rounds exactly. Insert the magazine, slap the cocking handle and pull out the magazine. Top round on the right. Good. Properly chambered. Insert magazine to stay. Hit the pad on the forearm mounted Laser Products Model 628. Light up the wall. Nice, bright white. Batteries still good.

As we get closer, I can hear the other selectors click twice—safe to full—on our Navy groups. I do the same with mine. Thirty-124 grain +P Gold Dots wait in the post-ban, Bill Clinton “large capacity feeding devices.” If we do it right, they will all be there when we are finished too.

Approach to the front porch. I look at the numbers on the house one more time, for final reassurance that this is the right place. Just like in the pre-raid video. We’ve never gotten it wrong, and to do so would be the worst thing in the world, not only for those in the wrong house, but for us as well. We must hold ourselves to a higher standard. We should get it right. We MUST get it right.

Officer number two has the NFDD, the “Noise-Flash Diversion Device” out. He is bending the pin almost straight, the spoon of the flash bang firmly against the web of his Nomex gloved hand. Officer number six gains on the line as he brings the ram to the opposite side of the door, where he will do what the judge told him to do, on my command. The intel said that there were no children, but that there were guns, and lengthy rap sheets with convictions for violent felonies for the residents. As we get to the front porch, we are seen, the ram officer hears the deadbolt fly home. I order, “Knock!” Number one instantly responds. “POLICE DEPARTMENT—SEARCH WARRANT!” I hear the pitter patter of big feet—away from the door. I throw my weak hand down in my best Kansas City Chiefs Tomahawk Chop that the ram man sees, and reacts to. Then the door is open, by our “master key”, and number two quick peeks to make sure no one is dangerously close to where he will place the flash bang. In it goes, and we all tighten a bit, waiting for the huge blast. But those inside don’t know it’s coming. About 1.5 seconds later it does, and we are in. Through the door as quickly as possible, guns up, forearm lights on, fingers off trigger, finding the occupants, looking at their hands, telling them not to move, then ordering them to lay down with hands behind their heads. They do as they are told, silently. Totally frightened by the flash bang, they do not offer any resistance. Our throats hurt from breathing the flash powder smoke. Wish I had brought some gum.

After they are all handcuffed, guns back to safe, evidence techs in, Miranda read, we relax a little, until the tech pulls out the MAK-90 with a 30-round magazine from under the bed. A reminder of what we are up against sometimes. Kind of ironic, me with my “For Law Enforcement or Government Use Only” MP5 magazine, and he with his thumbhole stock. We are both playing by our President’s rules. We are going to take away his non-assault rifle, and he can’t have my hi-cap magazine. For him to possess it would be some unspeakably horrible federal crime. Yeah right. Somehow it doesn’t seem fair. We find drugs as expected, and make three arrests.

The team loads back up in the truck, and we head for the station. Another one is in the history books. Back at the station, the team puts their equipment away, usually saving the MP5s for last. They are the only things that we have in our hands at the moment we breach the door, that may save our lives. We trust them completely.

If you are reading this, then you have a serious interest in automatic small arms. I do too, almost completely with HK. I also have a submachine gun for work, issued to me. Civilians now must pay almost $5000 for one. Mine was free, but cost the PD about $1000 at the time. I have to give it back when I retire from the tactical team. A day I do not look forward to.