A Summary Of Officer Hunter's Fight

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Though Giordanna's skin care business revolved around an enormous public persona, Marci's approach to civics swung in a different and more confidential direction. Her mother's charitable donations drove dozens of civic projects throughout the city, while, Marci's progressive activism propelled protests around the city. Notably, one protest finally attracted the attention of her parents. Up to the present time, Marci’s escapades had remained fairly, anonymous. But when San Francisco police were dispatched to Taylor street in the Tenderloin and observed the student groups gathering near City Hall, all of that changed.
A large and angry crowd milling around was growing larger by the moment. In the foreground, the group seemed to be
Watching what he felt was suspicious body language. The man’s hands seemed to remain near his waistband, as if he was waiting to reach for a pistol. Something consistent with what Hunter thought a person trying to conceal a weapon would do.
“You! Stop!” he ordered. But the man ignored him. “Show your hands.”
Now, edging further away, the man was clearly trying to evade Hunter. Suddenly, he darted to the left and took flight. Officer Hunter whipped out his gun and chased after him, but the man was quick. It wasn’t until the bystander extended his leg and tripped the young man, with his foot that Stalin Peralta tripped and fell to the ground. Officer Hunter was on top of him, by then, and jerked his arms behind his shoulders with one hand, to apply the handcuffs. And then, the police officer punched him, repeatedly.
Hearing the quick, light footsteps behind him, Hunter turned just in time to see the girl dashing up to him, now yelling, “Stop! Stop it! Don’t hit him like that!”
With his knee in the suspect’s back, he whipped around and aimed his gun at the girl. She stopped in her tracks, immediately.
He snapped the handcuffs on the suspect as his partner grabbed the girl and cuffed
In her entire life, her father never slapped her face. And how long had he been watching her? Feeling an overwhelming desire to spit on the man who created her, instead, she hoisted her head up, squared her shoulders back, and shouted, “Stalin Peralta. And yes, he is my boyfriend.”
“Stalin? Like the communist? Have you lost your mind?”
“No. In fact, I've gathered it enough to recognize the face of intolerance and hypocrisy.”
Her father's eyes opened so far that Marci thought he might have a stroke. Then, he glared at his daughter as if she were a stranger. “You've lost your mind, young lady. Do you even know if he's here legally?”
“I'm quite sure you will tell me, won't you? Didn't your investigator give you, all of the sordid details?”
“Marci Katherine Demopoulous… Get the hell out of here. Before I do something, I regret!” He pointed to the door. “This discussion is not over. We will continue this when we've both cooled down and you stop acting beyond yourself.”
As she turned to leave the room, she suddenly felt compelled by one last thought and whipped around and faced him, again. Glaring at him with as much haughtiness in her tone as she could muster, she calmly said, “You mean when you cool down, not me. Old man!”
When she left the room, the old Greek had tears in his