On Tuesday, I spent the day with several SWAT teams as they went through medic training with the FBI.

SWAT–Special Weapons and Tactics- operatives specialize in hostage situations, high-risk warrant service operations, search-and-rescue operations, covert and undercover tactical operations and crowd control. Team members must complete advanced training and, while it is different from department to department, it’s rigorous and they must re-qualify continually. In the FBI, SWAT members must qualify monthly at the gun range, for example. But it’s not only firearms training–the physical training is just as demanding.

SWAT teams know how to be cops–they can take out the bad guys and secure a scene–but what about the victims? Until the paramedics arrive, SWAT is in charge–after they neutralize the danger, they need to assess injuries, give first aid, and maintain control. The victims are their patients. These guys already have experience with advanced first aid. Many are former military, and all have extensive experience–as Toni can explain better than I, to make a SWAT team requires not only a wide-range of abilities, but being the BEST at it. You can’t just make the SWAT team and coast–you are constantly tested and need to re-qualify every month.

This was the third role playing day I’ve done with the FBI, and the second that focused on triage. There were six stations the teams rotated through, including a hostage situation, a domestic situation, traffic stop gone bad, and an active shooter in a school environment. However, this time trauma surgeons and paramedics volunteered their time and expertise–at their own expense–traveling from as far as Virginia and San Diego because they are so passionate about their job and believe fully in these types of training programs.

The training sessions, which are put on by the FBI and offered to local law enforcement throughout the area, are multi-day events. On Monday, the SWAT teams–some which traveled over 150 miles to participate–took classes from the medical personnel. And on Tuesday, they put what they learned to the test.

They all know it’s not real, but a team of UC Davis trauma nurses came out to make it as real as possible, with “moulage.” Moulage is the art of applying mock injuries in training ERT’s and other medical or military personnel. Moulage is applying pre-made rubber or latex “wounds” and often uses makeup for realism (such as blood, open fractures, gunshot wounds, etc.)

The injuries could be minor:

Skinned Knees

Or life-threatening:

Stabbing

Heather above had a deep stab wound in her thigh. The medic set her up with an IV of blood attached to the rubber wound so that she could make it bleed when the SWAT team arrived. It was kind of cool Her wound was used to teach a technique about packing with a tourniquet would be difficult or impossible to place–packing gauze deep into a gaping wound to cover as much surface area as possible to help with the clotting process.

Some of the wounds looked incredibly realistic. Such as Tom’s blunt force trauma:

Hamming it up

or this re-barb injury:

or Stan’s gunshot wound:

or my own “injury” — a protruding bone that I got from running and falling down the stairs when the shooting started.

In my scenario, there were two shooters in a school or workplace situation. SWAT came in, neutralized the suspects quickly, then tended to the victims while waiting for the helicopter and EMTs to arrive. The purpose is to, essentially, secure the scene and triage the victims–assess their injuries, perform emergency first aid (i.e. applying tourniquets, giving CPR, etc.) and prioritize for transport. Easy? Not really. As role players, we acted like victims. Once we were on–and there was simulated gun fire using paint pellets with a primer so it sounds close to a real gun–your heart races. The SWAT team comes through–and each team does it differently–to secure the site and take out the shooters. In a real situation, they’d have people running at them, or reaching for them to help, or calling over to them. There are screams and cries and they don’t know who the shooter is, often where he is, if there is a partner, how many–they have to go in assuming that everyone is a suspect. We’re not supposed to make it easy for them, because in the real world they’re going to encounter a wide variety of victims. Screaming. Hysterical. Crying. Helpful. Calm. Shock.

They need to ignore the victims while they take care of the shooters, secure the building, then tend to the victims. One thing the paramedic in my scenario suggested (and praised) was bring the victims together to share limited supplies, keep them in sight, and make them easier to treat and transport. Another point driven home: SWAT was in charge of the victims, not just the crime scene, until medical help arrived. They needed to treat us victims, talk to us, calm us down. Some of the teams were better than the others at small talk. Others were straight business.

For my part, I had a non-life threatening but extremely painful broken leg with a protruding bone. And it was bleeding pretty darn good as well. I screamed when the gunfire started, then cried, sobbing, and depending on my mood during that drill, I would either beg for someone to help me or demand to know what happened to my friend Heather (the stabbing victim.) Kathy was part of the “walking wounded” — scrapped knees and a gunshot to the arm. She was great that when she saw the SWAT guys she’d stagger over to them. I could totally see that happening in real life. (I mean, if there WAS a shooter, I would definitely want to be as close to the cops as possible! Or I’d hide. )

We’re supposed to stay in role until the instructor calls for the team to come together. One SWAT team–which was tactically the most aggressive–quickly assessed everyone, applied the tourniquet to my leg, and then left me (as well as the other victims.) I couldn’t see what they were doing, but if I were being left without comment, I would probably want to know what the heck they were doing leaving me alone with a dead body as company. So they walk off and I called out, “Wait! Don’t leave me! I want to go home! Where are you? Please come back!” The head paramedic liked my improv

Near the end, the “helicopter” arrives and the SWAT leader is required to give a rundown of victims and injuries quickly and accurately. Then, the medic asks, “I have room for three. Who goes now?” And they need to know. If they don’t, the medic loses confidence that they’ve done the proper triage.

One of my favorite parts of the role playing drills is when the instructor walks through the scene and assesses the teams strengths and identifies areas of improvement. I say it that way because none of these SWAT teams were weak. This is where I learn the most–the little details that help me understand my characters and what they may face–both as a victim and as a hero. The facts and stats are always good to know, but it’s the reasoning behind decisions, the human factor of being a cop or a victim, that makes my books real to me, and I hope to my readers.

I talked to some of the guys afterward. Because everyone knows this isn’t real, I wanted to get their impression of the effectiveness of these types of drills. Of the three cops I spoke with, they were all enthusiastic about the program. One guy said that even though they know it’s not real, as soon as they’re geared up begin, the adrenaline starts pumping. Having role players with realistic injuries and playing a part makes it more real, and helps them focus on the situation. Everyone had praise for the medical experts who came out–on their own dime–to run the SWAT/medic training program. Some had never been in a program like this; others had participated before.

And all of them–from the SWAT operatives to the trauma surgeons to the paramedics to the FBI instructors who ran the program and assisted in the drills–are truly the everyday heroes I like to write about.

I can’t wait to do another drill. This was my third role-playing scenario. I’ve also toured Quantico (and plan to go back later this year), toured the morgue and observed an autopsy, and toured Folsom prison (and was warned that they don’t negotiate–so please don’t be taken hostage.) And more–I have been both lucky and blessed to be able to do a lot of these research “trips”–because while I love reading and learning from books, there’s nothing like going on-scene. I haven’t done a ride-along yet, but it’s high up on my list.

One of the other drills was a barroom hostage situation–the suspect stabbed his girlfriend and had a gun on her. He shoots at the cops when they come in, then is gunned down. So the scenario is designed to deal with both an officer down and life-threatening injuries to a hostage. Here’s a shot from the catwalk of that scenario:

And here is me with Joe Getty, from the morning radio program Armstrong and Getty. I did another scenario with Joe–when he was a bad guy and I was the wife of a wanted sex offender. On that day, we were both handcuffed and decided that being cuffed wasn’t fun!

Joe Getty & Me

My question for you all whether or not you’re a writer, what’s the one “research trip” you’d be excited about? Role playing with SWAT? A ride-along with local cops? Firefighters? A tour of the morgue? A prison? A military base? What about flying a plane with a fighter pilot, learning to parachute, or touring the underground tunnels in Sacramento? Shadowing a judge? A prosecutor? It can be anything, just something you’ve always wanted to learn about outside of your normal profession or hobbies. Comment for a chance to win a $25 gift certificate to the online bookstore of your choice!

On a more personal note, thank you to everyone who helped put KISS ME, KILL ME on the NYT list (#16) and the USAT list (#32)! I’m now deep into writing IF I SHOULD DIE, which is scheduled to be released on 11.22.11. And I’m giving you all a sneak peak at the new cover . . . which looks so good with the first two Lucy books.

I spent Tuesday night with James Ellroy.

Okay, not all night. Just a few hours with Mr. Ellroy and a group of reporters–plus the talented and extremely nice Stephen Schwartz from my alter-blog, Murderati.

The bestselling novelist of 18 books, Mr. Ellroy is most famous for his bestselling novels THE BLACK DAHLIA and L.A. CONFIDENTIAL. He also has a tragic personal story, as he lost his mother in 1958 to murder.

We all met at the Langham Hotel in Pasadena for a bus tour for Mr. Ellroy to promote his new television series, “James Ellroy’s LA: City of Demons” on the Investigation Discovery. The purpose was to hold the press captive for three hours to sell the show, while also giving us a tour of some famous L.A. crime scenes. During the drive from Pasadena to Beverly Hills, Mr. Ellroy gave his keynote, a no-holds-barred, vivid, larger-than-life presentation into his past and the upcoming series. He was both arrogant and self-deprecating, an odd combination for a true original, and absolutely entertaining. More than that, he knows what he’s talking about–he’s a walking history book about Los Angeles of the past, and crime in L.A. specifically.

I probably have no need to justify why I went on the bus–Ellroy+crime scenes=fun. But I also like different adventures because you never know when and where a nugget of an idea will form. So I went with my eyes and ears open, to absorb more than anything.

We drove by several houses where murders occurred and through many neighborhoods, including where Ellroy grew up near El Monte. During the drive, he told story after story–mostly teasers about the show, but all related to the seedy underbelly of L.A.–and answered dozens of questions.

We exited the bus once–in front of Lana Turner’s old house in Beverly Hills. The house where Johnny Stompanato, her lover and abuser, died.

I can’t retell the story with Ellroy’s signature style, which recounts the public lives and secret scandals of the 50s and 60s L.A. In a nutshell, Stompanato was a brute and a criminal, and he threatened Lana Turner whenever she tried to get rid of him. Lana didn’t take Stompanato out in public–it wouldn’t fit her image–and took her daughter, Cheryl, to the Academy Awards where she won Best Actress for Peyton Place. Apparently, Stompanato was furious about that, and shortly after the awards ceremony had a huge fight. Cheryl, fearful for her mother and herself, took a knife from the kitchen and walked into her mother’s bedroom, where Stompanato was yelling at her. He turned and impaled himself on the knife. The homicide was ruled “justified.” In the Investigation Discovery series, Ellroy interviews Cheryl, now in her 60s, about that night.

We also stopped in front of Rebecca Schaeffer’s apartment. This young, talented actress was shot to death by her stalker, an obsessed fan named Robert John Bardo, spawning the first anti-stalking laws in California. She was 21 in 1989 when she was murdered. I remember the tragic case vividly–I’m sure many MSW readers do. Bardo’s in prison for life, but Rebecca is dead, and that just doesn’t seem right to me.

Ellroy himself is a character, and while a lively speaker who loves alliteration (he writes about the series, “You’ll get in-depth interviews with witless witnesses, preening prosecutors, insipid investigators, and jaded jurors”), personally he’s an introvert who doesn’t like crowds, doesn’t own a cell phone or computer, watches no television and few movies, and prefers to be alone in the dark to think and listen to Beethoven. In his words, “Thinking, brooding, planning.” He’s unapologetically conservative and an apologist for LAPD, and emcee of the Los Angeles Police Historical Society’s Jack Webb awards which recognizes supporters of law enforcement. (Yes, Jack Webb is from Dragnet.)

One reporter asked what he loved about Beethoven and Ellroy’s response was quietly passionate, and very earnest–in some ways more real than anything else he’d said in his presentation because it wasn’t an expected question. Beethoven’s music is a gift from God, that became even more amazing as Beethoven became deaf. Akin to a miracle, and I’m sure many would agree. But the eloquence and heart he spoke with told me that Beethoven was his passion, making Ellroy seem, to me, less a showman and more human. And after that everything I’d listened to up to that point took on a more complex and deeper meaning.

Ellroy, who admits he doesn’t really like people very much, likes the police as a group because they are the only organized group of people who hate the men who prey on women and children as much as he does.

I could go on for another thousand words about the bus ride, but I can’t do Ellroy justice. I will be watching the show, because it’s sure to be over-the-top and fun, while also biting and authentic. I’ll even watch though he told everyone that he’s “over” serial killers stories and doesn’t like them, dashing my hopes of getting a future book endorsement from him. (As long as there are plenty of other readers who still like what I write!)

Several little things stuck in my mind that I’ve been mulling over–tidbits that may find themselves in future books.

The first thing was his comment that events change the focus of investigations. Specifically, that some murders go unsolved because of completely unrelated events that divert the attention of the citizenry. For example, the case of Stephanie Gorman. Ellroy surmised that the case would have been solved had she not been murdered a week before the Watts Riots, which diverted media attention and police attention. He cited a few other cases that fell into that category, and I started thinking about that as well. Crimes before and after 9/11, for example. Or Hurricane Katrina. When the world seems to be falling apart around you, when hundreds or thousands are dead or dying, homeless and sick, how does anyone have the time or resources to focus on just one murder? It truly had me considering a myriad of ideas, just little threads that someday will make sense to me.

Ellroy is obsessed with understanding misogynistic violence. His mother, Jean Hilliker, who was raped and murdered; Elizabeth Short; other unsolved cases around Los Angeles. As he said, “What moves men to such rage?” Nearly everything he writes about involves, ultimately, the question of Why? Why do people kill? Why do men rape and murder women? Why do they exhibit such rage in the murders?

The why of crime definitely motivates my writing, and I suspect many other crime fiction writers. We want to understand, we have an almost primal need to understand why people do what they do, especially violence. Because we truly don’t understand, so we’re constantly seeking ways to get it. If we understand, maybe we can stop it. But can we understand the horrid and unspeakable crimes perpetuated on the innocent?

In fiction, we can right wrongs we see in everyday life. We can fight the bad guys and win. We can solve crimes and give justice to our fictional victims, maybe as a little lie to ourselves that we’re really fighting for justice in real life. It’s fiction, but it’s fiction that explores the very best and very worst in people.

For those interested in James Ellroy’s LA: City of Demons show, it premieres on January 19, 2011, at 10 p.m. on Investigation Discovery.

What do you think about true crime shows? True crime books? I’m fond of IN COLD BLOOD by Truman Capote simply because it was the first true crime book I read. I’m partial to books about criminal psychology, probably in my search to understand the why of violent crime. What are some of your favorites? Share with the rest of the class and you’ll be in the running for one of two $20 gift cards (to Amazon or BN.com) to celebrate LOVE ME TO DEATH hitting #20 on the New York Times bestseller list!

Last Friday, I was lucky enough to tour Folsom State Prison with alumni from the FBI Citizens Academy. At least, a small part of it. They call it the “Toughest Beat in the State” and after walking it, I would have to agree. Every cop puts his life on the line when he puts on a uniform, but putting on the uniform within the walls of a maximum security facility with 4,000 felons carries additional risks.

The prison itself is huge, split between “new” (1986) and “old” (1880) Folsom. Both are still fully operational. We were at New Folsom Prison, a maximum security facility which also has a minimum security block.

Folsom State Prison, California

This photo is particularly stunning with the Folsom Dam and Folsom Lake beyond.

I drove up the road (shown in the lower left hand corner of the photo) which was lined with inspirational sayings for correctional officers. Visitors parking is there on the left, at the end of the road, and the administration building/check-in is that first building–left of the baseball diamond. The buildings surrounding the baseball diamond are minimum security facilities. These are prisoners who have less than five years to serve who have been convicted of non-violent felonies. These may include drug charges (such as selling/manufacturing); grand theft auto; drunk-driving (usually repeat offenses or where there is injury or property damage); burglary (if no one was home at the time); and similar. Prison officials assess every prisoner who comes in, looks at their sheet, prior convictions, etc to determine where they go within the prison.

We were given a talk at the beginning, where Rhonda, our veteran guide, told us that we were entering a maximum security prison and we did so with the full understanding that it’s a dangerous place. There were, as of April 30, over 100 incidents (which can be small or large.) When we went in, both B and C blocks were in lockdown because of violent outbreaks. And she pointed out, that if we’re taken hostage, they do not negotiate. None of us turned back, but it was certainly food for thought.

Minimum security inmates work the grounds, take classes, can get their GED and even an AA, and they have far more freedom than maximum security prisoners (for obvious reasons!) In fact, there is no fence preventing them from simply walking off the grounds. However, they have a long hike, there are guard towers, and any escape attempt would result in being locked in the maximum security side plus added time.

IInmates live in a dorm-like setting, with rows of bunk beds lining alcoves right off the main rooms. They aren’t in prison cells, they are allowed to purchase mini-refrigerators, televisions (they must be clear plastic to see the inner workings, no cable), and other approved electronics. They have freedom of movement within perimeters. Unlike maximum security who lost dining hall privileges (they eat in their cells), minimum security still has a cafeteria setting. That baseball diamond you see in the front center is theirs.

I had a lot of empathy for the minimum security inmates. First, they live @40 men in an alcove, sleeping about five feet apart. Hardly enough room to breathe. Their personal space is smaller than the average jail cell in maximum, though they don’t have bars and can move around. But primarily, they’re all young men. I doubted any that I saw were over 30. They have a chance to get straight, learn a skill, get their degree, and hopefully when they get out in less than five years they’ll have learned to live right.

It’s truly unfortunate that because the state of California has mismanaged our tax dollars for more than two decades, that one of the recent cutbacks has been in parolee programs. Minimum security inmates screwed up–probably not for the first time, but they weren’t committing a violent crime. (Don’t misunderstand me–I think most need to go to prison. These are felonies, not misdemeanor drug possession or minor thefts. Violent criminals usually start with the small stuff–burglary, stealing cars, selling drugs–but often escalate as they slide deeper into criminal life.) But these are the young men who I believe can change; with education, with hope, with support and encouragement, I think they could become productive members of society. Maybe it’s wishful thinking . . . but if we can’t help them, we’ll be paying for them–in prison–to the tune of $90K a year for the rest of their lives.

On the flipside, the other tragedy of California’s fiscal failure is the cut backs on the staffing side. This was made clear when we walked through the maximum security facilities (we saw A block and B block.) On many floors, only one guard is down there. There is an armed guard in the towers watching multiple floors and/or yards, but only one correctional officer on the ground. Staffing cuts put guards at great risk–as well as other prisoners.

There are no apparent cutbacks in legal, because prisoners continue to sue the prison for a variety of claims. Some are legitimate. Most are blatantly frivolous. All of them are expensive.

When we get to the maximum security side, we’re dealing with the violent felons and repeat offenders. All are there for five or more years. 80% will never be released.

B and C blocks are hardcore facilities. See the largest building on the right? That’s were we went. B and C blocks are the two separate sections (each with their own yard) at the top of that large building. (The other group of buildings closer to the dam is Old Folsom Prison. I believe that’s medium and maximum security, but I may have that wrong. It’s run separately from New Folsom.) The tower to the left is the main intake tower that we had to pass through (under?) to get to the B/C Blocks.

I learned a lot about prison politics. Gangs control everything, and gangs are divided by race. And no matter what the government or well-meaning people want to do to force political correctness on the running of prisons, safety of the prisoners and the guards must always come first. For example, Northern Hispanics and Southern Hispanics hate each other to the point that they will fight on sight. They are segregated into B and C blocks. A Northern Hispanic gang members sued because he felt it was discriminatory to segregate the two groups. But the Folsom guard who led our tour–a sharp woman with over 25 years experience in the prison system–said that every time they have attempted integration, it has resulted in violence. The judge agreed.

We all hear about how prisoners run things, and in more ways than I believed–it’s all true. They run the yard. They run the gates. They’ll tell an officer when the new prisoners come in whether they’ll accept them on the yard. Politics is everything. Our guide quoted JURASSIC PARK: “Life finds a way.” Meaning, no matter what privileges they take away, how many lockdowns they implement, how many years they tack on to a sentence, prisoners will find a way to adapt. We went up to the Investigative Services offices. Eight special guards who look like the best of special forces (all big, buff, and the two I saw rather hot!) are responsible for investigating all incidences at the prison. This means minor disagreements to violent outbursts. They check the mail (incoming and outgoing), talk to staff about prisoners, talk to prisoners about prisoners, investigating violence to determine who did what to whom and when, and it doesn’t stop there. Why? Because prisoners from other prisons have ways of communicating that would awe AT&T. 90 cell phones were confiscated last year–including data phones like BlackBerrys, Trios, etc. 20 so far this year (four months.) They monitor the mail because prisoners will send coded letters to outside friends who forward them to other prisoners in other prisons. The criminal underground is amazing–and rather scary when you consider the extent.

Another thing we saw with the investigators were weapons made at–and confiscated–in the prison. Such as a shiv made from the lid of a can. Knifes made from melted plastic. Razor blades attached to toothbrushes. And more–over a hundred handmade weapons on display–thousands have been confiscated. And prisons have staffing reductions? I don’t get it.

If a prisoner doesn’t want to play politics, they’re threatened or attacked. Prisoners who truly want to get out of politics have an option: A block.

“A” block (the buildings to the bottom of the largest building on the right) is for prisoners who are on meds (largely paranoid schizophrenics, from what I gathered–we couldn’t take notes, no purses, pens, cell phones, electronics, etc–so this is all from memory.) It’s also where they put the sex offenders because pedophiles will be killed in B or C block. It’s a fact of life–again, prison politics. Anyone in authority (such as a cop) is in A block, because again, we know what happens to cops in prison. And gang members wanting to get out of politics have a chance to go to A block–and they can never go back.

We talked to one convict who was sentenced to 15 years. He was 19 when he went in. He would have gotten out next year . . . except that he was part of a prison incident that tacked an additional 7 years on his term. He has a daughter, 13, who he has only seen in pictures. He was raised by a single mother on welfare, no dad in the picture, in an impoverished area where the only options he saw was joining a gang. (And many times, in heavy gang areas kids don’t have any real options.) He wanted out of the hardcore yard after he got the seven years and petitioned for A block. As part of the process, a prisoner has to talk–tell everything he knows about how prisoners communicate, everything he was involved in that the guards didn’t catch, tell them in a specific prisoner is in danger, or a guard is in danger, or rumors they hear. They have to answer everything.

“A” block doesn’t have the freedom of the minimum security inmates, but they have far more than B and C blocks. A block has evening time, where the cells are opened and the prisoners can go to the central area and watch TV, play an instrument, walk around, whatever. A block was clean, and our guide said the prisoners are responsible for keeping the prison areas clean–and A block prisoners do it. B and C blocks? Not so clean. (Though, apparently, Rhonda said that the single most disgusting, filthy cell block she’d ever worked in–only for a day–was women. Another guard said she’d never work in a women’s facility, that they are worse than male prisoners.)

Rhonda also told us she enjoyed taking us through because we were serious and smart–we “got it.” I didn’t understand what she meant, until she told the story that the week before she was taking a group of college students through the prison and in the minimum security facility the girls were flirting with the prisoners. Hello, girls, these are guys who have been in prison for up to five years, and you’re flaunting your wares? I would love to pick Rhonda’s brain over drinks some day, because she must have many more stories. Like the woman who flew all the way from Germany to meet with a prisoner she’d been pen pals with. When they got too up-close-and-personal, she was removed, and sued because the prison denied her the visit (fortunately, all visits are recorded so the judge sided with the prison’s decision.)

Fellow author, New York Times bestseller James Rollins, was also on the tour with me. He said he was surprised by how quiet it was. Part of the quiet was because B/C blocks were in lockdown and going through TB testing. But part was because of the location. It was serene, surrounding by oaks and rollings hills. There were geese and wild turkeys all over the yards, and in fact one wild turkey flew in front of my car as I was leaving (I didn’t know turkeys could fly!)

I think I was most surprised by the daily processes. How much needs to happen to keep the prison running as smoothly and safely as possible.

Maybe it would benefit some teens to get a tour of the prison. To see where they could be if they don’t get their act together. I wouldn’t want to go to prison–minimum or maximum security. Lack of freedom, living so close to so many violent criminals, losing hope . . .

I watched a CSI years ago where Katherine’s daughter Lindsay, then about 13, snuck out of the house while Katherine was at work. Katherine found out when her housekeeper (mother? don’t remember) called, and was looking for Lindsay when there was a call of a young teenager dead. Katherine panicked, thinking it was her daughter, relieved that it wasn’t . . . but when she found Lindsay, she was furious (and justifiably so, IMO.) Lindsay had dressed “up” with loads of make-up and clothes that looked like she was a hooker. Katherine took her to the morgue to show her the girl that was dead–saying something like, “If you continue down this path, this is where you’ll end up.” Lindsay ran out, crying. The coroner was angry with Katherine, but I was thinking, HELLO! Daughter is going down dangerous path, two weeks being grounded isn’t going to work. Sometimes, we need to scare our kids straight. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Whoops, how did that picture get in there?

My first Lucy Kincaid book will be released in October of 2010 and I turned in the proposal three weeks ago. Lucy Kincaid is a character from my NO EVIL series. In FEAR NO EVIL, she was kidnapped before her high school graduation by a man she met on the Internet. She’d met him through a group she believed was only Georgetown students and prospective students as she prepared for college, thinking he was a freshman. He gave her a false name and false picture. She gave him a real name and real picture. Hence, he had no problem snatching her in the parking lot of Starbucks because he knew exactly what she looked like–and she had no idea who he was.

Lucy is one of my all-time favorite characters, and as soon as I finished writing FEAR NO EVIL I knew that I would someday write her story. Not only did I want to write her story, but I had many story ideas for her. When I came up for contract this Spring, I wrote a proposal for a Rogan-Caruso trilogy. Rogan-Caruso Protective Services was introduced in PLAYING DEAD as the employer of my heroine. I thought my publisher wanted another trilogy. They didn’t. I was kind of stunned–but they asked what else I had. The only other thing I wanted to write–in fact, the series that I preferred to write, but didn’t think they’d go for it–was Lucy Kincaid. They wanted it.

I was thrilled. I’m aging Lucy for the series–if I followed real time, she’d be twenty-one. In Book One, tentative titled NO WAY OUT, she’ll be twenty-four. Still younger than most heroines, but since this is a series, this gives me room to grow her. She’ll age in real-time, or close to it, after that and if the series is successful, I’ll probably limit it anyway. I love series, but like television, I think some should have ended at a peak before they crashed and burned. X-Files anyone?

But for Lucy, I have several story ideas. Patrick Kincaid, her brother who was injured and in a coma at the end of FEAR NO EVIL, woke up after twenty-two months in SUDDEN DEATH. I probably shouldn’t have used real time for his coma–twenty-two months is an unusually long time to recover from a coma!–but Jack needed the time for his internal journey. Anyway, I adore Patrick. And my mom threatened to disown me if I killed him, so he’s alive and breathing. I have story ideas for him, too–yes, IDEAS. I would love to alternate books between Lucy and Patrick, ala how Tess Gerritsen handles Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli. They are both in every book, but usually one is more important to the story than the other. I love that, and that’s how I picture Lucy and Patrick.

In NO WAY OUT, Lucy is waiting to hear if she was accepted into the FBI Academy. She’s living in Georgetown with her older brother, Dillon, who is quietly over-protective, and Dillon’s girlfriend (possibly wife–I haven’t quite thought all this through yet!) Kate Donovan. She’s working somewhere–not sure where yet, either at a police department or lab–while she waits. The wait can last twelve months to two years. It’s long and stressful. Once you’re accepted, you’re given a report-to date for Quantico. It can be months away–but you’re still a hired employee. At that point, you work at headquarters but aren’t yet an agent.

When I was in Washington last week with the FBI Citizens Academy, our last tour was of NCMEC–the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, co-founded by John Walsh. Though I was familiar with the organization, I didn’t know exactly what they did. Five stories in a building in beautiful downtown Alexandria, Virginia dedicated to solving hundreds of thousands of cases of child exploitation. Honestly, I left depressed. Every day their staff goes in and tracks missing kids. They view child pornography hoping to identify the child or the location. Hoping to pick up clues as to who the predator is. They have a forensic anthropologist on staff who helps identify skeletons. They have computer experts who age photos to show us what a kidnapped or endangered child might look like today. They have many success stories, but far more tragedies.

They also collect a mass of data on missing children and predators. They work with all states and many international agencies to help track sex offenders who are supposed to register. They can go into public databases, they maintain their own database, and they can cross-reference information. There are many law enforcement on staff from many federal agencies including the FBI and ICE who are assigned to NCMEC. They are the case managers–they have the experience as well as arrest powers.

I couldn’t possibly detail everything NCMEC does to help protect children, from proactive measures like parent education to investigating crimes, but it is a difficult job for anyone there. In addition to law enforcement, they have case analysts and many others who work tirelessly. Some analysts spend most of their time analyzing photos for example–photos or videos that are of child pornography. They do it to find a clue–like the success story where they enhanced a photo well enough to detect a diploma on the wall. They couldn’t read the name because it wasn’t complete, but they were able to figure out what college it came from and eventually, though an extensive process, learned that the photo was taken in the office of an elementary school principal. He was arrested.

I went on the trip to Washington with my FBI group primarily to tour Quantico for my Lucy books–and that was terrific. NCMEC was added long after I signed up. It affected me far more than any other portion of the trip. But I don’t believe in ignorance. Too many of us don’t want to look at the truth and ignoring it won’t make it go away. While finding out more about NCMEC was difficult, not only am I immensely proud of them, I’m also better informed. If everyone understood the real dangers out there–and some of the activities that lead to the dangers both for victims and predators–maybe we could slow, or decrease, the number of child sexual predators.

I began to think . . . what if someone with a long and decorated career just . . . snapped? Wanted to take matters into his own hands?

While I know the set-up of NO WAY OUT–and have since the spring of 2008 when I took the FBI Citizens Academy classes and one thing that some said sparked the whole idea–I didn’t understand motivations. Suddenly, everything was clear, like putting on new glasses.

Comment–say hi, talk about what you like and dislike about series characters or stories, ask questions about my trip, anything!–and three people will win a copy of FEAR NO EVIL where Lucy was first introduced. FEAR NO EVIL won the Daphne du Maurier award for Best Mainstream Mystery/Suspense.

It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.

That’s right: role play with SWAT.

Sure, I know, it’s a day away from writing, a day away from the kids, a day away from email, but somebody has to make the sacrifice, and because I wouldn’t want to force this on anyone else, I stepped up to the plate.

I volunteered to be a victim. Yes this is my foot.

Ouch

This was my second role playing adventure. About five weeks ago, I participated in a tactical training as a “bad guy”–or, more accurately, as the white trash wife of a drunk pedophile who was harboring his cousin the pimp and the pimp’s underage girlfriend in the house. I learned a lot from the day–and even picked up the term “Mental Muscle” from my new pal in the Air Force, Tyler, who played “Billy” the pimp. It’s a phrase I’ve already used in ORIGINAL SIN, I loved it that much. (Basically, you practice and drill and run exercises until you can do it right the first time, on “instinct” and without hesitation.)

Yesterday’s drill was far more extensive than my first time. And for me, as a writer, it was even more valuable than the first.

Descending upon the former McClellan Air Force Base in Sacramento, California were seventeen SWAT teams from local law enforcement in Northern California. Run by the FBI and supervised by FBI SWAT Leader (and all around great guy) Brian Jones and run by the joint task force. (I believe this because the SWAT officers supervising the drills were from both the FBI and other law enforcement. But however they did it, it was very well orchestrated.) The teams were there for extra training, and could pick four of eight realistic scenarios (such as a sniper, officer down, and my drill–a school shooting.)

Just to set the stage: there were 250 SWAT guys in 17 teams, plus about 30 running the drills and 20 of us as “role players.” Role players come from interns in law enforcement, students in criminal justice classes, and people like me, graduates of the FBI citizens academy.

My scenario was a school shooting. I was a non-ambulatory but stable victim. Others had more serious injuries, or less serious injuries. The purpose of the drill was to put SWAT in a real-life, real-time situation (without real ammunition–they use paint pellets, but they hurt I’ve been told!) in order to train with “real” victims. One trainer said that role players are invaluable because when they run situations like this with just a shooter, once the shooter is down, they’re done. In real life, there is far more going on–clearing the scene, triage, civilian panic, etc. So the drill was two part–secure the scene, then deal with the victims until EMT arrives. SWAT is not extensively trained in triage, though many SWAT members are former military or have some basic medic experience. But handling a downed soldier is far different than a panicked civilian.

We were staged at various positions throughout the “school.” There were serious (abdomen) injuries and less serious injuries. And my pal Larry had a small “boo-boo” on his face that he declared loudly and often was bleeding and he needed medical attention now. I was placed in a doorway where I had a visual of a girl being “gunned down” as SWAT rounded the corner. I was told to scream until I was hoarse, and that if anyone touched my injured leg I was to scream in pain. Only two SWAT teams of the six actually touched the wound (and yes, I did scream in “pain.”)

As a side note, every SWAT team is a bit different in how they approach the scene and, for my purposes, how they handled triage. Two teams actually bandaged my GSW in the field with gauze and tape. One put a tourniquet around my thigh, but didn’t touch the wound itself (so I didn’t scream at him.) Two teams had me put pressure on my wound with my hand. One got me up quickly and into a staging room within the “school” (as opposed to the medic staging area outside the “school”) and had me sit until everyone with more serious injuries were dealt with. Of the six teams, two secured a room for victims, and four took the victims from the scene starting with ambulatory, then moving to non-ambulatory–most serious injuries first.

Triage after area is secure

Okay, another aside–hands down, if you’re ever held hostage in Northern California, you want Citrus Heights SWAT to be in charge of your rescue. Though I was the last victim to be removed from the scene, it was the smartest move (in my opinion) because I had a non-lethal injury. They were fast, they knew what they were doing, and they WERE IN CHARGE. They did not hesitate, they lit the shooter up, they quickly cleared the rooms (ALL the rooms) and assessed injuries without debate. Kudos to them! (All the teams did well, but this one just stood out head and shoulders above the rest. The last team that did the drill was above average as well, but I don’t remember who they were. It was late.)

How does playing these games help me as a writer? I know it’s not real, so while I’m excited and have a shot of adrenaline when gunfire ensues, it’s hard for me to know exactly how I would react in a real situation because my mind knows it’s not real. The only hint of what I’d really do (if I wasn’t given a verbal “script” to follow) would be to hide. When the first gunshot rang out, my instant reaction was to crawl into the room I was blocking and curl up in the corner. Make yourself a small target. But then I thought, what if someone I loved was injured? I think back to my oldest daughter’s surgery when she was two and I realize I would probably do what I did then–be a big girl, calm, collected, in charge, and then when I knew she was okay, break down in tears.

But the point is, everyone reacts different to the stimulus–not only the victims (some compliant, some panicked; minor injuries and major injuries)–but the SWAT teams. As a writer, the most valuable part of the exercise was not the scenario itself (though that was the most fun and the most exciting!) but the walk-through. After the drill, the trainers walk through with the team and ask them what they were thinking, why they did this or that, how they decided which formation or tactic to use, etc. As a role-player, I got to listen in to the conversations and heard first hand what they were thinking and why they did what they did. What’s running through their mind has me thinking what runs through the minds of my characters when placed in hostile or dangerous situations. These are trained cops–they are not idiots. They know what they’re doing. But sometimes they hesitate because of things we might not think about.

Such as liability. Two of the teams mentioned liability as a point of hesitation in firing upon the shooter. Because if he survives, he may sue. And if he doesn’t survive, his next of kin may sue.

I really had to think about that. I asked about it, and one true story that emerged related to an EMT unit. They were sued because they didn’t tend to a severely injured suspect during a shooting–where the scene was still hot–and instead tended to a downed officer. The suspect died and the next of kin sued saying the EMT should have treated them on scene. Fortunately, the case was dismissed because the code says that if a suspect has not been searched and cuffed, EMT are not required to give medical attention. And because the scene was hot (meaning there were still bad guys out there) there was no way for law enforcement to get to the suspect, search and secure him, and get him to the EMT in a safe zone. Considering that a bad guy might have a gun, might take a hostage, and was seen shooting a cop . . . well, the rule makes sense.

There are a lot of gray areas. Do you shoot a guy who’s holding a gun to his head? Do you leave the wounded in order to secure a scene? When do you shoot and when do you hesitate? SWAT is trained extensively on knowing how to identify the bad guys, but today one civilian was shot (grazed) because he pulled out his cell phone as SWAT came through the main doors.

We all know cops who are assholes. Who wear authority like a right to be worshipped. Some should be forced to resign because they give the majority of good cops a bad name. But watching them in action you realize that the choices they face on a daily basis might give them the right to a little bravado. They face life and death choices every day. In traffic stops that far too often go bad. In school shootings where they are facing victims and shooters who could be the same age as their own children. In robberies, car jackings, break-ins, kidnappings, rapes and murders. They’re the ones who tell a mother her son was killed; they’re the ones who step into a hostile domestic violence situation to try to diffuse it; they’re the ones who usually are first on scene at an accident or murder. They are not only responsible to keep themselves alive, but their partner. Not just their partner, but other cops. Not just other cops, but innocent by-standers. The rights of criminals are–rightfully–protected by our Constitution. But cops deserve the same rights and consideration as the bad guys. And, frankly, a little bit more. They’re putting themselves on the front lines to protect people like us, to protect our rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And in doing that, many are shot, killed, disabled. So I’ve cut them a little slack when I see the attitude, because honestly? They deserve it.

Next up, I’m going to Quantico in September. I could tell you it’s research for the Lucy Kincaid series (which it is) but I had the trip planned before I sold the series, so it’s also because I think it’s going to be a blast. I can hardly wait!

Now, to be perfectly selfish . . . CUTTING EDGE went on sale this week. This is the third book in my FBI Trilogy and the spark of the idea came from the domestic terrorism presentation during the FBI Citizens Academy. A special agent discussed a case he worked where there was an FBI informant in a domestic terrorist cell (eco-terrorism) and his respect and admiration for the informant really hit me. It got me wondering why would someone become an informant? Who are they? What do they grow up to do? Who do they become? How does it affect them . . . not just being an informant, but betraying people they know and care about? What, if any, life-long repercussions are there? And asking myself those questions, I came up with Special Agent Nora English.