The 'Rabbit' In The Hoodie [Fiction]

Running around in the ruckus at Prater amusement park, I somehow lost my rabbit. Pardon me. Not a literal rabbit but a culprit who flees whenever a law officer or polizei is close by.

I received intel that the man responsible for robbing some elderly people in a rich neighbourhood was at the amusement park. I arrived with my team and we tried to be discreet. Unlucky for us, he caught a glimpse of some of my men dressed in mufti and ran. We had no choice but to chase after him while taking care not to injure any civilians.

My partner and I traced the stolen car he drove via its GPS to the central bus station. We walked in and split up in our search. I went to the ticket counter.

"Any sight of him?" I spoke into my two-way radio hung on my wrist.

"Nope. You?"

"I'm looking at their cam recording now but I suspect he's already on a bus—"

"Wait. There's a bus about to leave the station for Innere Stadt"

"Quick. Stop it. I'm on my way to you."

I ran to the parking lot where the buses were parked and scanned the area for my partner. He couldn't be hard to find. He's taller than me by an inch and has grey hair even though he was in his early thirties. His light green jacket with the word "polizei" written boldly on it would help me identify him among the crowd.

I looked through each parked bus in a rush until I got to one labelled "Innere Stadt". Yes! I climbed in and saw my partner. He squeezed himself into the central aisle and walked gently, taking his time to stare at each passenger.

The bus was filled to the max and ready to begin its journey. There was only one exit and no way anyone would get past my partner and me. I folded my hands across my chest and blocked the exit of the bus.

The driver gave me an uncomfortable glance and I stared him down. He averted his gaze quickly, his breathing a little uneven. My colleagues and I get this reaction every time we are close to civilians. This sense of power is gratifying for other policemen but not me.

"Hey, you! Raise your head," my partner said to a passenger at the back of the bus. The man wore the exact maroon hoodie as our culprit. Other passengers turned at the urgency in my partner's voice, wanting to see the face of the man as well. I put my hand on my service pistol, ready to draw it if I had to.

The man slowly raised his head, keeping us in suspense. It turned out it wasn't him. I swore and holstered my pistol.

"Where did you get that hoodie from?" My partner asked, annoyance dripping from his voice. I was pissed too. We had been chasing this thief for a few days and he kept eluding us.

The man smirked. "I bought it from a man," he replied, his English heavily accented.

"What man?" I asked from where I stood at the exit and became the centre of attraction.

"I don't know. Tall, black hair, blue eyes. He needed some cash and I needed something warm so we exchanged."

That was the exact description of our culprit. "Do you know which way he went?" I asked again.

"No," the man said and bent his head, scrolling through his tablet. We had been dismissed. I gestured to my partner and we got off the bus.

"We'll get him soon. He's getting sloppy," I assured my partner with a pat on his shoulder as we drove back to the precinct.

What I see

I see a tall, well-built man dressed in a police uniform with the word "polizei" spelt out on the front of the jacket, walking down the aisle of a bus.

What I feel

I feel some tension and awkwardness in the air as the police stare at the passengers in search of something or someone.

This is my entry to A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words. To participate, click on the link.

Thank you for visiting my blog.