My heart boomed, my breathing rasped — how could they not hear this infernal racket? Perched on top of a bookcase in a dark room, I squished myself into the corner, waiting. The air was still save for the softly approaching sounds of creaking leather, doors swishing, boots padding back and forth on the vinyl floor as they advanced, whisper by whisper, room by room.

Finally, one came through the door. I tracked him until he turned his flashlight on me. I shot.

"Oh, no!" The young cop, deflated after the adrenalin rush of the search, turned to his instructors: Berlin Police Chief Bill Jennings and Officer Jeff Aubert.

"You're dead." Jennings stepped into the room as I jumped from my perch. "She got you. Good thing that was a camera."

After spending an extraordinarily quiet 12-hour day with the Berlin Police Department patrolling, taking evidence to the Crime Lab in Waterbury, fingerprinting, trying to catch speeders (none!), listening to an investigation interview and joining Sergeant Bob Leary and Chief Jennings as they went through their daily routine, there simply wasn't much to write about. Of course I had been greeted with the line, "You shoulda been here yesterday, we arrested five guys in three hours!" They had just finished "robbing" a local bank, at the bank's request, as training for the tellers. The tellers thought the officer playing perpetrator (or perp, in cop parlance) was hilarous and shrugged when asked to stuff the money in a bag. "What bag?" Ha, ha, ha. Just my luck, I'd missed all the excitement. But the best was yet to come.

Several weeks later, Jennings suggested I join them for a training session at their offices that night. Little did I know I'd be taking part as a perp. Good thing I dressed for the occasion. My "weapon" was my camera. If I shot first, I won.

Jennings hid me in another room and the search began again with two more trainees. I could hear this lot coming, well in advance, from the serious gum chewing. This time I was greeted with, "This is the police. Come out with your hands up." Okay, okay, so you found me.

While a critique session of their search efforts was conducted, Aubert and I cruised over to an old truck stop to hide. We were now both "perps on the lam." Jennings told his trainees this "tale" of the perp's heinousness: He had attacked and killed three nuns and three children and may have a victim with him (me). In groups of two, with the remaining officers as backup, the trainees were to sweep the building for bad guys and secure it.

Aubert had already claimed his hiding place under the stairs in the basement, it was up to me to stake out mine. We cased the joint looking for likely spots. There weren't many. The building was being renovated and mostly cleared of old fixings, junk, and furniture. When Aubert heard over his radio that the trainees were on their way I had seconds to settle into place. In desperation, I chose as my cover a long countertop lying down against the wall. Surely this was too obvious, but I was desperate. It was dusty, with rusty nails poking out, but at least it would hide me.

What's that? My stomach was gurgling! NOW?

I barely heard the cruisers crunch up the gravel drive and stop. Doors thumped shut.

The back door opened, heavy breathing, creaking leather, boots pussyfooting across the dusty floor. Flashlights whipped around the walls, past my countertop — several times. Whispers of "All clear" and "Let's go downstairs." Treads creaking with each step. What? They missed me?

"BANG, BANG!" Aubert got'em! Since all the cops in the exercise had emptied their weapons, and guns make just a weeny click when empty, Aubert yelled "Bang, bang." Later they told me I could have yelled "bang, bang" too. I told them my finger wasn't cocked properly. "But that's what we do," Officer Sherry Ferno told me when the exercise was over. Well... next time, dudes.

We waited for the next group. When nothing happened, I ventured outside. They were still there. Jennings and I went inside again and this time we rearranged my countertop and propped it up from the front (poking nails, you know). Didn't take the searchers long to find me that way. Although, I do think Aubert got them, too.

Last lot coming through. I rearranged my countertop back to the original way — it looked so natural.

They missed me again! Seeing that I was still hidden away and the searchers were elsewhere, Jennings came over and suggested I "escape" out the back door. I did. Naturally the fellows outside wanted to know whether I was escaping or Jennings sent me. The latter, of course.

"Get back and cover your ears," Jennings whispered as I leaned against the building. I covered as he pulled a pin and tossed a percussion grenade harmlessly away. BOOM!

The trainees jumped. Heck, I jumped! Two shots exploded, the sound richocheting throughout the little building. It was Jennings adding more authentic touches — the best way to teach them to prepare for the unexpected. (The PD had permission to do this.)

Exercise over, we returned to the PD, critiqued their search efforts, went over tactics, and tried some SWAT training to secure a room. Four officers tighten up in a line along a wall next to the door, throw open a door, then race around the perimeter of a room with one stopping in each corner. Worked wonderfully the first time. Everyone was pleased. Four again squished together, lined up against the wall for the mad dash. "GO!" They raced forward, momentum pushing. Aaugh! Stopped cold by the locked door. The rest of us thought this was hysterical, "Hey, just blow the knob off, why don'tcha!" Aubert swore he didn't lock it. The door was unlocked and the four lined up again. Their second attempt was successful.

Although this is serious police training done on a regular basis and the trainees treat it as such, we had a terrific time. Sure, they made mistakes, bungled things, and laughed. Better they make their mistakes now, in training, than when their lives depend on it later.

To cap off the evening we pigged out on coffee and pie at Shoney's. I can't wait for the next call!