Civil unrest fills the city of Los Angeles with protesters flooding the streets making it uncomfortable for the LAPD. Watching minorities die from the corrupt police force has the neighborhoods wanting justice for their losses. The justice they’re seeking is handed out by a group known as The Hand of God who is led by Damu, an ex-gang banger looking to even the score between the streets and police by targeting cops who the system let slide by.
Upset with the way his police force is handling the investigation into The Hand of God, Police Commissioner Billick decides on a different approach, by recruiting formally disgraced Cincinnati Police Officer Duke Mitchell to work his way undercover into the group’s ranks in the hope of bringing down Damu and his followers from the inside.
While undercover, Duke starts to question his assignment as he starts to understand the motives of the group, and starts falling for Terricka, who is an attorney and activist that leads the charge looking for justice for the streets. Caught between doing his duty and his feelings for Terricka, Duke battles morality and must decide whether to back the blue or follow his heart. Taking place in today’s social unrest society, see the story from both sides as you decide for yourself who the true villains and heroes are.
It’s a little after midnight in the city of Los Angles with a full moon illuminating the block. The city is feeling a little unrest with the constant protests and riots randomly taking place earlier that day, and pretty much all month. About a month ago, Patrol Officer Stonebrook was involved in a police brutality case that went viral. The case left a twenty-two-year-old black male dead which enraged the public. The video evidence was deemed inconclusive which allowed Stonebrook to regain his posting. The public outcry was harsh with protests and riots abroad. The LAPD offered Stonebrook a desk job, just until things cooled down, but he declined. He is a street police, and he isn’t about to back away from his job just because of a few hurt feelings on the part of protesters. In order to ease him back in, the department put him on the overnight shift, where things were slower. He’s been with the force for fifteen years and felt disrespected being placed on an overnight shift. Compared to a desk job, however, it was better than nothing.
Stonebrook and rookie Patrol Officer Gentry exit their squad car and enter into an all-night diner. When they walk in, the area is pretty quiet as expected around this time of night. The two officers take a seat at a nearby booth and make a quick order of coffee as they get comfortable. The years are weighing in on Stonebrook whose graying hair looks thin and brittle when he removes his hat and places it on the chair next to him. The negative press has been hard on him, but his smugness has him feeling little to no guilt. Gentry, on the other hand, looks fresh and new, with thick red hair on top of his freckle filled face. He’s been out of the academy for a little over a week and was thrilled to have a mentor as well-liked as Stonebrook showing him the ropes.
“What you gonna have, rookie?” Stonebrook asks with his grim voice.
“I don’t know. I’m not really that hungry, to be honest,” Gentry responds as he looks over the menu.
“Well, you better eat now cause we’re gonna be in that car for the rest of the night if all goes well,” Stonebrook points out.
Gentry scratches his head as the waitress comes back and takes Stonebrook’s order. After a few moments, Gentry places his order as well as the waitress walks off quickly to fulfill their requests. Stonebrook takes a sip of his coffee and relaxes as a few thoughts run through the rookie’s head.
“Sir, thanks for everything you taught me. You can’t begin to understand how much this helps me,” he responds almost sucking up to the veteran office. “I gotta ask you though, why patrolman? I mean a man of your skillset could have went on to become detective, or maybe something else. I know it’s personal, sir, but I gotta know why just patrol?”
Stonebrook chuckles before taking a sip of his coffee once more. He thinks for a moment before responding to the wide-eyed rookie.
“Look, kid, I’ve seen a lot of things in my time on the force,” he replies. “I’ve seen stripes change a man. Once you start chasing the career, you lose something. I wasn’t born to be a detective or any bullshit like that. I wasn’t born to be commissioner like Billick either. I’m a front line police for the realest police squad on the force. The higher up don’t give a damn about keeping these streets clean. Not really, anyway. It’s all a numbers game.”
Gentry nods his head hanging on every word the veteran cop has to say.
“I guess that makes sense. Can’t make a difference if you’re sitting behind a desk all day,” Gentry responds.
“Amen to that,” Stonebrook said impressed with the rookie’s spunk. “Front line officers are the only ones who are out there putting ourselves on the line every damn day and night. Used to be you could take a perp down no matter what. Now everybody and their mother has a fuckin’ camera to film everything you do. Who are they to judge how to do my job? I don’t go to Burger King or McDonald’s and tell them how to flip burgers, do I?”
Gentry chuckles as the waitress brings back their meals.
“Take that kid, that Malcolm Johnson,” Stonebrook continues as he adds salt and pepper to his eggs. “Here’s a guy with a criminal history longer than my grandmother’s tits. I’m trying to place him under arrest for basically being an asshole. I was just talking to the kid, and he decides he wants to be the next Zulu King, and talk about his rights. What was supposed to be a simple traffic stop ended up having IA teeth marks all on my ass crack and me on the six o’clock news.”
“Yeah, that was bull shit. I mean based on the evidence, there was no way they could blame you for that,” Gentry responds as Stonebrook nods his head with agreement before taking a bite of his food.
“Exactly my point,” he responds with a mouth full of food. “I did what needed to be done to subdue the perp. They’re trying to make his ass look like he was a saint. Get outta here with all of that. Now I got basketball and football players talking about I should be fired and charged. Maybe next time, I’ll let the nigger get away so he can rob them or their family. I bet you they’ll change their attitudes quick if the police don’t respond. A bunch of millionaire babies.”
Gentry’s smile drops as he hadn’t heard Stonebrook speak so freely up until this point. He takes a few bites of his meal before continuing with his conversation.
“I mean, I get that Malcolm Johnson was a perp and all, but you subdued him within the constraints of the law and training right?” Gentry asks looking for clarification. “I know how the media is treating it, making it look like Rodney King or some extreme bullshit like that, but we’re still here to protect the people right?”
Stonebrook chuckles with his partner’s naivety.
“Kid, you’ve got a lot of learning to do,” he responds to the rookie. “That black bastard, King, deserved the ass whoppin’ he got. He resisted, and he got put down for it. If it was up to me I would have shot him down in the streets like the animal he is.”
Stonebrook can tell that his partner isn’t feeling what he’s saying.
“Oh, I get it. You’re one of those,” Stonebrook says with a smirk.
“I’m one of those?”
“Yeah. Those who won’t do what it takes to clean up these streets,” Stonebrook clarifies. “They’re animals, Gentry. All of them. The niggers, the spics, they’re all animals. Think about it. They kill each other daily over drugs, money, and whatever other illegal enterprises they can get their hands on. They all deserve to die because they’re from a no good evil race.”
Gentry chuckles nervously thinking that the veteran is joking with him.
“Come on, sir. You can’t believe that?” Gentry responds. “I’ll admit, there are a lot of them out there who are as bad as you say, but not all blacks and Hispanics are bad. I mean, Obama was president. He’s not an animal.”
“No he’s was an even bigger threat,” Stonebrook points out while chewing on his food. “He’s the one making these animals think they’re like us. An animal is an animal no matter where you put them. Just because he was able to become president doesn’t mean-,”
Stonebrook’s words are silenced as a bullet hits him in the middle of his forehead blowing out the back of his skull. A terrified Gentry is about to pull his weapon out when three black men all wearing masks surround him with their guns drawn.
“Don’t even think about it, white boy,” one of the masked gunmen said.
Gentry is shaking as he slowly raises his hands up.
“Please don’t do this,” he pleas as one of the masked gunmen reaches down and takes his weapon and radio.
He does the same from the body of Stonebrook, while Gentry continues to shake with fear.
“Please, I have a family. You don’t have to do this.”
“You know who had a family. Malcolm Johnson had a family,” a voice behind Gentry said.
Brotha Damu walks over without a mask as he takes a look at the rookie cop. The diner has cleared out as Damu, wearing sunglasses at night, peers down to the fallen Stonebrook.
“It’s funny how when the end is near everyone speaks about their family,” Damu said turning his attention to the young cop. “Malcolm Johnson pleaded for his family too as he was beat down by this racist pig that you see before you.”
Although a thin older man, Damu was very intimidating as he stares down Gentry through his glasses. Gentry is terrified by a man with hair straightened out almost as if he were a pimp wearing dark clothing and holding a nine-millimeter gun. A shaking Gentry is breathing heavily as Damu points his gun towards his head.
“Let this be a lesson for you Officer… Gentry,” Damu said reading the patrolman’s badge. “We’re not gonna sit around silently watching the blue kill our brotha’s anymore. Times are changing. We’re not gonna fear the blue, but you will fear the black, you dig?”
Gentry slowly nods his head with his hands still raised.
“Make better decisions officer than your partner did, or we’ll come for you next,” Damu says as he lowers the gun from Gentry’s head. “When they ask, let them know that it was Brotha Damu and The Hand of God that did this. Let them know we’re coming after all who kill our brothas and sistas. We didn’t start this war, but we’re damn sure gonna end it. Blood will be shed.”
Damu motions the others out of the restaurant. The last masked gunman removes the clip and the bullet from the guns before handing back the officer his and Stonebrook’s weapons. He rips the radios apart and tosses them to the side before hurrying outside of the diner as well. A relieved Gentry sighs as he can’t believe he’s still alive. After a sigh of relief, he looks at Stonebrook terrified at what he sees. Stonebrook’s eyes are still open, looking up at the ceiling almost as if he’s looking for God. After a few moments, Gentry rises from the booth and quickly makes his way out of the diner, and into his squad car to call the murder of his partner in from his dashboard radio.