Riding Around With The Biggest Tools

Almost exactly a year ago, I sat down with Koh Gausman and wrote about the HPD officer who called himself a monster .

Back then, Koh talked about Hathian’s streets in terms that owed rather a lot to his military past. Gangs had replaced insurgents, HPD officers were family and sometimes, he told me, Hathian’s criminals had “more firepower than the HPD.”

I remembered that recently while sitting inside several tons of armoured police vehicle. I would like to submit the accompanying photographs as a possible update.

“This is our infamous MRAP, as the crooks commonly call it a tank,” he explained as we began moving. “MRAP stands for Mine Resistant Ambush Protected.”

In my defence, when something is enormous, armoured and normally arrives full of armed police officers, the precise taxonomy becomes somewhat academic to the person standing in front of it.

Koh explained that the MRAP isn’t intended to replace ordinary patrol vehicles. It is primarily deployed for high-risk raids where officers may encounter organised resistance, with room for six officers in the rear, another through the upper port and two in front.

“This is by far not the largest vehicle in our arsenal,” he added, somehow making that information sound reassuring. “But it is certainly the one that makes the loudest impact with the public.”

Apparently, dear reader, it gets worse.

Bigger Sticks

What surprised me was how casually we rolled through Hathian in it, including King Street, while Koh talked through what the machine could do. It is heavy enough, he said, to push most ordinary vehicles aside.

He grinned as he said it. There, at least, was the Koh I remembered.

In our previous interview, Koh described himself as “older, wiser” than the officer who had first joined HPD, while remaining very much unashamed of getting his hands dirty when he believed it necessary. A year later, I don’t think the philosophy has disappeared so much as acquired more procedure around it.

I suggested during our drive that the advantage of carrying the bigger stick ought to be that you don’t actually have to use it. Give everybody equally large sticks and sooner or later someone wants to compare them.

“Boys, right?”

Koh continued explaining the vehicle.

There are, thankfully, restrictions on deploying it. “The MRAP is only ever used for planned raids,” he told me, with authorisation required from either the Inspector or Captain. Our outing was unusual because HPD officers were being given an opportunity to familiarise themselves with the vehicle, and I had apparently been “lucky” enough to be offered a seat.

The Beast had also recently been involved in HPD’s operation around the Clam. Koh said that during the raid a gunman had attempted to use his car as cover from police gunfire.

HPD’s solution was uncomplicated.

“The Beast simply drove over the car.”

According to Koh, the gunman was subsequently arrested and wasn’t injured by the MRAP itself. He argued that the vehicle had helped prevent the suspect from continuing to endanger officers or pedestrians.

It is the sort of anecdote that can sound either reassuring or absolutely terrifying depending upon which side of the windscreen you expect to occupy, but Koh consistently described the machine in defensive terms.

“This thing’s job is to protect,” he told me. “Even now, you and I are safe from the outside world.”

He acknowledged that the Beast has weaknesses, although unsurprisingly declined to tell the Observer what they are. What he would offer was a useful piece of public advice: if you see this vehicle travelling toward an active operation, there is probably a good reason.

“If you do see this vehicle in motion, odds are it’s heading to danger that everyone, with a good head on their shoulders, should avoid.”

For once, HPD and the Observer are entirely aligned. Please do not run towards the armoured personnel carrier because you think the photographs will improve your BlueSky engagement. I already have that job.

Monster, Man and Machine

The interesting part of the patrol wasn’t really discovering that HPD owns something huge and armoured. Anyone with functioning eyes could establish that from the pavement.

It was listening to the man driving it.

Last year Koh gave me the sentence which ultimately defined that interview: “I’m older, wiser. Not the man I was my first day. I’ve gotten my hands dirty, bloodied. But I’m not ashamed. In order to fight the monsters out there, you have to become one.”

A year later, there was still something distinctly Koh about calling an armoured vehicle “the Beast”, grinning while explaining that most obstacles could simply be moved and admitting that driving it made him feel almost unstoppable. But there was also constant reference to authorisation, training, protection and keeping officers and civilians alive.

Perhaps that is what older and wiser actually looks like on Koh Gausman. Not necessarily softer, simply more deliberate.

As I climbed out, I reminded him that while I appreciate HPD sharing arrests, raids and information with the Observer, I am equally appreciative when other people hand me files concerning HPD.

“You are my favorite reporter,” Koh replied, which was an encouraging beginning.

“But if information comes to you damning the HPD, we are going to get to the bottom of it. Would hate to see you get caught up in the middle of it all. Remember that next time you need someone to get you off a land mine.”

I remember.

Koh has previously been on the useful end of situations where my continued possession of all my limbs was not guaranteed, which makes it difficult to decide whether his final comment was concern, warning or simply Koh’s particular way of combining both.

Perhaps that is why, after our previous interview, I asked whether when the fire starts or the knives come out you’d rather have him on your side or theirs. A year later I still don’t have a particularly simple answer.