I am the liutenant of a 3 man Rapid Tactical Force Team, in one of the nation’s largest indoor retail shopping centers. My job job is to defend and protect the lives of the many shoppers who currently vist this center, and in my line of work you cannot be too careful.

I am in a high-risk job. It is not the Mall of America, but Ill tell you what its no podunk mall either.I am a responsible citizen who has made the choice to carry at all times. I defend others. If something happens at the Mall then I would be the hero, not those of you who are making fun of me for no reason. Yes Im not a Green Beret but guess what neither are you and unlike you I have to face unruly shoppers every day.My REAL problem is that, like any LEO, I have enemies because of my job. They may have access to high-powered rifles. My job starts and ends at the same time every day. Although I use four rotating routes to drive to and from work, I am still vulnerable during the walk to and from my car. This is the time that I load up on the trauma plates because I DO NOT WANT TO BE SHOT DEAD!Also, someone said that my Tac Team doesn’t get training. Not true. We meet at the range every night and shoot 400 rounds each through weapons that closely resemble our duty setup. We also practice unarmed combat. I am a Master of three martial arts including ninjitsu, which means I can wear the special boots to climb walls. I don’t think any of you are working as hard as I am to be prepared. Try laughing at the sheep out there who go to the mall unarmed trusting in me to stand guiard over their lives like a God.

I am considering a transfer to a line of work that is much less boring but I just have to wonder if working ops on a traveling freelance basis once again wouldn’t be just the thing to rejuvanate my career.

I wondered.

But then again I think of the mayors nephew, his face distored with tears and terror, the GAP employees who asked for my autograph, and had to settle for a cover identity’s signature, the flashbangs, and their acrid scent, the small of napalm in the evening breeze, as I crouch behind a shopping cart in the parking lot, the target practice with my dearest comrades and friends, the members of my teams, and our live fire exercises-Can I leave it all behind? should I?

Or is my life better spent as the silent, alert, stalwart, invisible guardian of the free mall…

I cannot tell.