Breaking Rank (63 page)

Their mission? Put together a plan to protect
people
—conferees, demonstrators, residents, business owners, shoppers, and dignitaries (the secretary of state, the secretary of labor, the president himself, maybe even Fidel Castro, who'd been rumored to be on the list of uninvited but expected guests). And
property
—the streets, the convention center, downtown hotels, Old Navy, Starbucks, Nordstrom, Nike, the Gap, independent news and espresso stands . . .

My purpose as a cop, as a chief was to make our streets safe—for everyone. When people asked me to describe the mission of SPD I gave them a stock answer: to stop people from hurting other people. It didn't matter to me whether the danger was in a couple's apartment in Greenlake or on downtown streets jammed with demonstrators.

The police would, in the mayor's words, “make sure that, for the citizens of this city, life can go on more or less as usual.” The conference would be taking place at the peak of the holiday shopping season. “The carousel will be up at Westlake, shoppers will fill the stores, the holiday lights will be up, the PNB [Pacific Northwest Ballet] will be dancing The Nutcracker. This is still Seattle in December, after all,” wrote the mayor.

Joiner presided over the most exhaustive event planning SPD had ever done. Almost ten thousand hours of training was provided: over nine hundred SPD personnel, through the rank of captain, went through an initial nine-hour “crowd management” (riot control) class. Then weekly, then twice-weekly squad drills. There were three four-hour platoon-level exercises and a four-hour session with all platoons drilling together. There was extra training on the department's new chemical agent protective masks, and eight-, sixteen-, and twenty-four-hour classes on “crisis incident decision
making” (a disciplined approach to analyzing and responding to crises of all kinds) for supervisors and commanders. Thirty SWAT officers traveled to Ft. McClellan, Alabama, for a four-day course on WMDs. Several SWAT supervisors and commanders attended an additional twenty-four hours of WMD and incident command system training. The Secret Service gave two days of dignitary protection and escort training to all motorcycle officers from the five agencies that would be contributing cops to the cause. The FBI and Secret Service ran two intensive tabletop exercises.

I monitored the training we provided to our officers. It started with classroom instruction on the short history of the WTO, the protest methods used in Geneva, and what they could expect, from best- to worst-case scenarios. Next, the student-officers were herded into an abandoned hangar at the old Sand Point military facility where they were subjected—against the audible background of an actual riot (a
loud
actual riot, recorded during recent political protests in Vancouver, B.C.)—to simulated protest strategies and tactics, including violent attacks. Back and forth the cops went, first as missile-chucking “demonstrators,” then in their real role as frontline cops confronting those missiles. They rehearsed tactics, prepared mentally for things likely to come.

All along, I'm thinking,
We've got this sucker covered.

But my cops? They weren't so confident. They appreciated the training, they loved the new equipment—all that all-black “hard gear,” from catcher-like shin guards to ballistic helmets, making them look like Darth Vader. But they were convinced the city was in for a real shitstorm.

There
were
some ominous signs—Internet organizing and mobilizing, Ruckus Society training, anarchists threatening to descend on the city and muck things up not only for the conferees but also for the throngs of peaceful protesters.

I was familiar with such pre-event refrains from a segment of police officers who always sound like Chicken Little, as well as the shut-it-down braggadocio of the lunatic fringe of protesters. I'd heard the voices of “extremists” many times in my career. Back in the seventies in San Diego, a wild-eyed lieutenant warned of the day that fundamentalist religious sects in the Middle East would migrate to our shores and do bad things to innocent Americans. He prophesied acts of terrorism, like blowing up
airplanes and buildings . . . if you can imagine that. The brass labeled him “Ol' Bombs and Rockets”—and kept him away from the armory.

Of course there would be demonstrations downtown. Of course there'd be knuckleheads who'd try to bait the officers. But even though Seattle was a small city in a small county in a small state, I was confident my PD was ready. Joiner had asked for help from state and regional agencies, and gotten it.
*
Washington State Patrol, King County Sheriffs, Port of Seattle, Bellevue PD, Kent PD, and the combined forces of Auburn, Renton, and Tukwila committed a total of fifty-three motorcycle cops, seventy-five patrol officers, thirty-one SWAT officers, five bomb cops, two communications/media personnel, and three explosives-detection K-9 teams. Washington State Patrol and King Country Sheriffs also committed a total of 145 officers for “demonstration management” duty in the event they were needed. All of this was to supplement the core forces of Seattle's police. On a normal day SPD would field about one hundred cops at peak times. For the WTO we would have more cops on the streets than at any time in PD history. In all, nine hundred SPD officers would be suited up for WTO, all of them working twelve-hour shifts. It sure
seemed
like a lot of cops.

Things were moving apace when shortly before the conference, Schell insisted on visiting roll calls. He wanted to offer words of encouragement, let the officers know he was there for them—and to tell them to behave themselves. Maybe he thought they wouldn't play nice with our global visitors, that they might not show proper restraint if provoked. I went with him to the roll calls, stood by his side. The first few sessions were uneventful, if not dull. The mayor was a bright, articulate politician but when it came to rallying the cops he was no Knute Rockne.

The last roll call was at the West Precinct, in a spanking-new facility, spacious, comfortable, and, unlike so many police facilities, designed and built with cops and police work in mind. It had that new-building smell, nice and fresh, and its opening had been a joyous occasion for the West Precinct cops, mostly because of the pit they were leaving. And because the plan called for free parking—just like PD employees at the other precincts enjoyed. But Schell had changed all that, and the cops were in a foul mood. In fact, they were lying in wait as we walked in.

There they sat. A roomful of disgruntled cops staring at a politician who had the nerve to ask them to make a good impression for the all the world to see, even as he stuck it to them on the parking. They glared, they griped, they grumbled. When one guy complained about WTO, hizzoner finally snapped. “Look, if you can't handle the job I'll find someone who can!”

Fighting the urge to throttle the guy, I stepped forward and reminded the cops of my confidence in them. But the damage had been done, and the mayor wasn't through yet. Right after roll call and within earshot of officers filing out of the room he turned to his police chief, shook his head and said, “I sure don't envy you
your
job.”

The next day he said he was sorry. “Tell it to the cops,” I said.

“I was
tired
,” he said. “And
hungry.
I hadn't eaten since lunch.” Well, sir, neither had I. And the cops you were talking to? They're headed for long hours with no sleep, no food, not even a place to pee.

As the conference approached, I began to have some of the same doubts my officers felt. I took my concerns to Joiner, who brought me back to reality. The first WTO ministerial conference had been held in Singapore, which meant, of course, there had been exactly
no
demonstrations. And the violence at that second one in Geneva? A “European phenomenon.” Besides, Seattle PD had had a ton of experience and enjoyed a well-earned reputation for handling big political protests (while still in San Diego I'd heard positive things about SPD's approach to demonstration management). Moreover, Joiner planned to use only known and trusted SPD personnel at the most sensitive posts.

Ed Joiner had solid credentials as a strategist and tactician. His planning team included some of the best minds on the department. Plus every stakeholder, from the regional bus system to local hospitals, was involved in the planning. Also comforting was the FBI's threat assessment of “low to moderate.” (I later learned they were talking about
terrorist
threats.)

And how's this for reassurance? The head of the local Secret Service office told the mayor and me at a meeting in Schell's office just moments before kickoff: “If things turn to shit it won't be for of a lack of planning.” As a matter of fact, he had “never seen a better job of planning and preparation.”

Things started well. There were a couple of small-scale demonstrations downtown on the Friday before the Monday conference opening. On Saturday three daredevils rappelled themselves over a bridge and hung an anti-WTO banner over Interstate 5 (they went to jail). Sunday there were demonstrations on Capitol Hill, but what else was new? Later that night a collection of anarchists broke into and occupied an abandoned building near the West Precinct. Even that wasn't all that troubling—it allowed Joiner and his crews to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the “outside agitators.” Further, it would have been problematic at that late moment to commit the dozens of personnel necessary to raid the place, scoop up the trespassers, sort out their undoubtedly counterfeit identities, and jail them—a decision that was a mistake, in hindsight.

But, it wasn't a bad weekend. All the more remarkable given that the conference was gearing up at the same time the city was playing host to the Seattle Marathon
and
a Seahawks game—both of which demanded much from our force.