Months after shooting, Issaquah police take same steady approach to safety | PHOTOS

Officer Nathan Lane cruises through the Issaquah Highlands, cracking jokes about cops and donuts, when a call breaks through the radio – a report of domestic violence.

Urgency displaces the easy banter, and he turns his car sharp for Cougar Mountain.

“Who is it?” he asks dispatch. Lane, known for his Rolodex memory, can recall faces, past crimes and current warrants like a Jeopardy champion.

The victim’s name is important, but the one that pops up on the screen is a surprise. A young man once arrested for one crime is now the victim of another.

The victim isn’t the most honest of people, Lane says.

He learns the incident is long over, and his concern cools. Officers won’t be breaking up a fight – probably. Police don’t assume what’s probable though. They prepare for the worst.

A block from the victim’s home, three officers take notes about a fistfight between roommates. The man points to bruises starting to appear on his face and to his pocket from where he says he lost a couple hundred dollars.

Placing him into the patrol car to search for the roommate, Lane continues assessing the situation.

Whose home is it? Who lives there, he asks. “Is there a gun in this house?”

“Um, no. Yeah, I’m pretty sure, no,” the complainant hesitates.

“Are you sure?” Lane hollers. His tone demands certainty. It’s the victim’s home; he should know. “Is there a gun at this place?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he finally nods.

Domestic violence cases are some of the most dangerous police handle. Often, victims turn on officers to defend their abuser, and there are frequently polar opposite views of what happened. Issaquah Police take the reports so seriously, they require supervisors to respond, and no officer goes alone.

For the men in blue, officer safety is the rhythm by which they work. It guides their path to every car and through every bar.

While the department hasn’t changed its approach since a shooter targeted six officers at Clark Elementary School last September, it grew ever more certain about the importance of remembering the right steps.

Issaquah won a national award, honorable mention at TOP COPS, after that incident for how the officers secured the community and took down the shooter before someone else was injured. While Issaquah Police won’t release the details from the incident until after a formal inquest, the men and their experiences are at work in Issaquah.

At the Cougar Mountain home, officers don’t find the accused man. He has a warrant, which means certain arrest. The victim thinks he’s hiding in the woods.

Officers record a statement, collect witness phone numbers and take photos of the man’s bruises. They wrap up in about an hour. To an outsider, Lane’s assessment seems an overreaction. For the officer, it’s about staying safe.

“Anything can happen,” Lane says. “Remember that.”

SCENARIOS

On a quiet Monday morning, country music hums through Officer Dustin Huberdeau’s radio when he clocks a man going 11 mph over on Newport Way – a hefty fine for a school zone.

He flips on his red and blue lights, calls in the driver’s plate numbers and parks with his front bumper a foot into the road, like a safety cone. The car’s position provides a wider berth from traffic and fire cover in case the stop goes awry.

Slipping around his car door, the fresh-faced officer presses a couple of fingers on the car’s taillight, a trick he learned at the police academy. If he gets shot, investigators will be able to lift his prints off the car in question.

The approach also positions Huberdeau in the man’s blind spot. He stops at the B-pillar, just behind the driver, who is angry about the stop.

While the plate numbers give a clue, officers never know who they’re really pulling over. The man could have a warrant, or the car could be stolen.

“You always got to be prepared for the worst,” Huberdeau says, as he wedges his fingers underneath a tight bullet-proof vest and pulls it down from his neck. “The moment you’re not, they’re going to take advantage of it.”

Despite the driver’s rudeness, the officer drops the ticket to 30 mph, which saves him around $100. The rest of the day’s stops go with the same attention to safety.

Just a decade ago Issaquah lengthened its police academy from three months to five. Today, it can take eight or nine months of training for officers to be on their own. Huberdeau is a product of that longer training.

However, for Issaquah Police, training never stops.

In addition to regular time at the station gun range, officers now go through more force-on-force simulations. Officers team up and practice live scenarios using “simunition” – paint bullets projected by gunpowder.

That training came into use for Officer Brian Horn, who was among six officers who responded to the Issaquah shooter in September. The best training is the type that gets as close to real life as possible, he said.

Lessons learned from the practice range were so ingrained into his thinking, they kicked in without him even realizing it.

A million thoughts ran through his mind that day – position of cover, citizens and protocol. He also thought about the law, he said. “Using force, no matter what type, has to be justified.”

Officers continually work through scenarios in their minds, said Cmdr. Scott Behrbaum.

The department also studies cases from other agencies and applies the lessons learned to Issaquah. Every department makes mistakes, but Issaquah wants to make sure it’s learning from them, he said.

Likewise, Horn often ran those “what if” scenarios, but never had the September situation crossed his mind – an unprovoked shooter unloading 11 bullets at police.

“I tell officers, ‘put that scenario in your head,’” he said.

Almost every officer in the department has reviewed the case, and thought through how they would have handled it.

No officer wants to face the decision to use lethal force. Some have 40-year careers and never confront with the situation. Others will deal with it multiple times throughout their lives, Behrbaum said. “It’s just the luck of the draw.”

SECOND FAMILY

Officer Tom Griffith slides his hand on top of his gun to protect it as he passes through a crowd at a bar. Saturday night is prime time for over-service, a “big” issue in Issaquah.

Officer Lane, who can bench press 530 pounds, moves a few paces ahead, when a customer exclaims, “Did you see the size of that guy’s neck?”

Bar checks shouldn’t be done alone, Griffith says. There are too many people and too much opportunity.

Despite the police presence, the scene is cheery. A few people dance with their mixed drinks and cheap beers, occasionally slipping glances at the men in blue.

“It’s like being in a fish bowl,” Griffith says. “Everyone is looking at you.”

A dozen chummy customers extend their hands and greet the officers by their last names – the only thing visible on their uniforms. In reality, some of them have or someday could be arrested by the pair.

Likewise bartenders come from behind their taps and volunteer reports on the evening – no problems, no one is even drunk yet, the bar down the street is hopping tonight.

Griffith, whose white hair doesn’t fit into the crowd, stands against a wall to protect his back, and his partner does the same at the front door.

While teasing women and impressed men crowd around Lane – his physique is often a conversation piece – he searches for Griffith’s eyes 20 feet away.

They know each other so well, they can communicate with just a glance. That camaraderie is ingrained in Issaquah police and plays a role in how they watch out for each other. Even dispatch can tell if an officer needs backup from their tone.

For officers, the department is a second family. With only 32 sworn staff in Issaquah, the officers not only know each other’s strengths and their favorite radio stations, but their families intermix. They’ve even been occasionally known to help each other out with home projects.

Spotting a driver with a broken mirror, Cpl. P. Fairbanks hits his lights. The driver slams on his breaks and pulls left into the median.

While Fairbanks checks the man’s papers, a second officer pulls behind. He’s a part of the squad – a sergeant, corporal and three officers – and the median isn’t the best place to stop.

“They’re your safety net,” Fairbanks says. “You never know when things are going to go bad.”

While squads watch out for each other, safety is ultimately a personal responsibility. It’s important that officers don’t get complacent or slip into routine thinking.

Some safety comes with training. Other times it’s gut instinct, Horn said.

Police study the way people react to them, their situation and even look for possible weapons.

“You may be the nicest person in the world, and we’re looking to see if you have a gun,” he said.

When officers drive, they’re also constantly looking for sketchy situations, like a person walking aimlessly around a parking garage or a closed car dealership.

While catching “bad guys” in the act doesn’t happen as often as police like, it is a nice way to make a career, Fairbanks said.

Most officers get into policing for the same reasons – excitement and pace – but it also comes with honor.

Officer Huberdeau finds motivation in the infrequent opportunities to make major differences in people’s lives, he said. “It’s the stuff you can’t measure.”

Attention to safety is what allows officers to make those impacts and to return home to loved ones, Behrbaum said.

“When you have a bullet that hits a foot from your head, it makes you go home and hug your kids,” Horn said, saying he tells other officers, “Say goodbye to your kids whenever you leave, because you never know if you’re going to come back.”

What to do when you see the lights

If you get pulled over, help officers stay safe by following these tips.

– Don’t slam on your breaks.

– Pull over slowly on the right side of the road and if possible off the road completely.

– Stay in your vehicle unless instructed otherwise.

– Avoid unnecessary or quick movements. Don’t dive for papers before an officer gets to your car. Wait until they ask for your license and registration before opening your glove box or reaching under your seat.

– If you pass a traffic stop, give the officer space.

Dustin Huberdeau talks to a speeder on Newport Way. BY CELESTE GRACEY, ISSAQUAH REPORTER

Cpl. P. Fairbanks checks door knobs outside a business late at night to make sure the building is secure and no one has broken in. BY CELESTE GRACEY, ISSAQUAH & SAMMAMISH REPORTER