Summary: What Kind of God do you believe in?
The story you are about to hear is true, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent: Several years ago while on routine patrol in a marked police squad car, I received a call to meet a woman on a theft. When I arrived at the address I meet a woman by the name of Rahab, a young nice looking woman. She told me that her boy friend had broken it to her apartment while she was out and had removed some of her personal property. As we were discussing the situation the fact that she was a prostitute came to light. She told me that her boy was in reality her pimp and that he had also taken a revolver from her apartment, which she had borrowed from friend to protect herself from him, for you see she was trying to get out of the profession. Her pimp was determined not let her walk away. Rahab, also told me that she had told other police officers about her situation, but know one seemed to care, after all she was just a prostitute. She didn't expect much help. As I was sitting there listening to her story, the phone rang, Rahab answered the phone it was her pimp. He told her that if she wanted to get her property back, she would have to meet him and go for a ride. He told her that he would be by to pick her up in an hour, she told him, no way and hung up the phone. Rahab then told me that she was afraid to go with him because she believed that if she did no one would ever see her again; at least alive. I then asked her if she wanted to get her property back. She said yes. How bad, I asked. Bad enough to take a chance? She said yes. At this point I called my supervisor and told him of my plan, he told me to go ahead, but to get another squad for back up. Rahab then called her pimp and told him that she was not willing to get in his car with him, but that she would meet him at the neighborhood bar. Her pimp agreed, The meet was set for an hour later at the bar. I then returned to team HQs and changed into real people clothes, picked up an unmarked squad car and returned to Rahab's apartment. I dropped Rahab off a block away and watched her insuring that she safely reached the bar, I then parked by vehicle and entered the bar taking a seat in which I could observe both the door and Rahab, who was sitting across the bar from me. I ordered a pop but instructed the barkeep to make it look like a regular drink. We then both waited for the suspect to arrive. Rahab had informed me that she believed that her pimp would have the gun on him and that he may attempt to forcibly remove her from the bar. The hardest part is always the waiting. After about 45 minutes a party similar to the description of Rahab's pimp entered the bar and cautiously walked around the interior of the bar and then approached Rahab. Rahab and I had arranged a sign so that I would know when the suspect entered the bar, she didn't give it, what was wrong? The party then left the bar. What went wrong? Should I approach Rahab and confront her, had she backed out? Just as I was getting up another male and the first male returned to the bar, this time they both went directly to Rahab, Rahab gave me the sign. Bingo, the play was on. Pretending to be drunk I walked into the men's room and called for backup, I then walked out towards Rahab and the two suspects. I removed my gun from my shoulder holster and placed it in my back pocket from behind a pillar in the bar. I then attempted to stagger towards Rahab and the suspects, trying not to move to fast or to slow. Feeling that Rahab's pimp was noticing me I stopped by another patron in the bar, I whispered in to his ear, Richard, dance with me; in street jargon this means to wrestle or fight. Richard rose and pretended to insult me, I pushed him back towards Rahab and the suspects, he pushed me back and finally we pretended to quit. I then staggered slowly along the bar pretending to gather myself until I was about 6 feet from the pimp and his friend. At that moment my backup entered the bar. I drew my gun from my back pocket and pushed the pimp into a video game while holding my gun to his head, saying, "police don't move or your dead".