James Patterson - Walk the Blue Line: No right, no left―just cops telling their true stories to James Patterson

I ts day one of SWAT training, which is, without a doubt, the single hardest challenge Ive ever faced.

The sheriffs office developed the program in conjunction with the Navy SEALs, whose notoriously physically and mentally grueling BUD/SBasic Underwater Demolition/SEALbegins with a five-week physical and mental beatdown including Hell Week.

Days, we grapple with pain-inducing fitness regimens, as well as extreme heat, cold, and sleep deprivation. Evenings, they let us go home.

That first night, I walk through the front door and start crying.

Whats the matter? my girlfriend asks.

I tell her about my day. And Ive got to go back tomorrow and do it all over again.

I wake up the next morning, sore and tired and broken, and go back for my second day of training. One day at a time, I tell myself. Thats the only way Im going to get through this, take it one day at a time.

But I want this. I always knew I wanted to either be in the military or the police. My father was a thirty-eight-year police officer whod been a chief for twenty-six years when he retired. A real cops cop.

So Im a proud second-generation cop, but I didnt want to write tickets. I didnt want to work accidents. I didnt want to take reports. I want to do the most dangerous, the coolest, the hardest and most elite job.

Joining SWAT scratches that itch for me.

The next weeks are terrible. Absolutely terrible. Oh, my God, what have I gotten myself into? But when I come out on the other side, I feel incredible. Ive transitioned my role from street cop to full-time member of an elite, mission-focused military unit. Im training every day with machine guns, rappelling, and fast ropingand getting paid to do it. Im twenty-five years old.

My baptism by fire occurs when we execute a routine narcotic search warrant at an apartment complex. Our suspect lives in a ground-floor unit, and since we dont know for sure whether hes home or out, we go with a dynamic entryspeed, surprise, and violence of action, techniques we learned in SWAT training.

We breach the door with a battering ram. The lock mechanism gives way easily. Im the first one into the apartment.

I scan the layout. Center hallway. Kitchen to my right opposite a living room area set up with a couch and TV. All three hall doors are closed.

My job is to cover my teammates while they perform a cleanupsystematically clearing immediate areas where suspects might hide, like behind the TV, underneath a couch, even inside the refrigerator.

The living room and kitchen clear, my teammates burst into a bedroom. From my covering position in the hallway, I hear one of them shout, Heads up, weve got a dog!

From the corner of my eye, I see what looks like a big, muscular pit bull. I hold my focus on the two unopened doorsthe one inches from my face, and the one in the center of the hallway

Bang-bang-bang, and the doorjamb splinters in three areas. My dumb ass thinks my teammates are shooting at the dog. The thing must be aggressive as hell, but still.

Watch your sights, I say.

That aint us, bro, someone replies.

Then it hits mehits us. Someone is behind that door, armed with a weapon. Could be one person in there, two, maybe more. We have no way of knowing.

We came here to secure dope, not get cops killedwhich is why our team leader immediately orders us to a fallback position.

Mission has changed, he tells us. Weve got other tools we can deploy.

Because we have at least one armed suspect, we set up a barricade protocol. The first step is to evacuate the nearest apartments as discreetly as possible. Then we get on the bullhorn, ordering the neighbors outside the evacuation area to stay in their homes.

We start negotiating with the shooter.

He doesnt respond.

Bystanders do. They film the exchange with their phones.

A remote-controlled robot carries a pair of explosive devices into the apartment and affixes them to the two interior doors that remain closed. After the robot leaves, we detonate the devices. The overpressure of the explosive breach blows the doors open.

More shots are fired from inside the apartment.

The shooter thinks were still in there.

A woman carrying a baby leaves the apartment, followed by a second guy. Were on them quickly. They tell us theres one more person in there. Hes armed with an AK-47.

Finally, the shooter surrenders. We quickly discover why.

His AK malfunctioned.

The dog ran out of the apartment, unharmed.

Our goal is to always end the situation peacefully, to use whatever methods we can to get the suspect to surrender, and then safely remove him or her from the situation.

In the days that follow, people keep asking me what it was like, getting into a gunfight. Its not like the movies, I say. Its sensory overload. All I knew for certain is that bullets were flying everywhere.

You should have sprayed that door with your rifle, some people say.

Everybodys got an opinion on what law enforcement should be doing. And Im like, Man, if they got all the answers, were always taking applications.

What they dont understand is that were accountable for every round we send downrange. That if I havent positively identified a targetincluding the suspectI cant shoot. That theres a potential lawsuit attached to every single bullet.

Oh, man, youre a full-time SWAT, that must be terrifying, people say to me.