21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

Work Trip

"Hey, it's Gregg. Can I talk to Hanson?"

"Yeah," he said. It sounded like he put the receiver to his chest because I heard a muffled, "Hanson! Line one!"

His voice was replaced with Tom's as he said, "it's Hanson."

"Hey, it's Mick. I'm in Greenville," I told him.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" He asked.

"On a case," I said and leaned against the wall, "I just wanted to let you know that I won't be home for a week. I probably won't have phone privileges when I'm in there so I wanted to call you before I checked-in."

"A week? Geez, I don't know if I can go a day without seeing you, let alone a week."

"Just more to look forward to when I get home," I smiled into the phone.

"Are you coming home next Thursday?" He asked.

"It's a three hour drive, and I probably won't be able to leave very early on Thursday so I think I'll stay another night at a hotel." I had an idea pop into my head and I suggested to Tom, "maybe you can come. When I graduated high school, I took a weekend trip down here with some friends and we had a lot of fun, we could spent next Friday here in town."

He sighed and said glumly, "babe, I wish. But I've exhausted all my vacation days for the quarter."

My tendency to be a bad influence caused me to say, "I think you should come anyway. There's a diner I've been dying to go back to. They make the best burgers I've ever had, I'll probably go next Thursday after my case. You'll love it, because they grill it with cheese inside the burger instead of over it."

"What's it called?" He asked.

"Bob's Diner," I answered dreamily. I haven't had it in years, and the interior is so adorable and retro. My mouth was watering at the thought of their food. I should have gone there for lunch, but it's not a quick-stop type of restaurant.

"I wish I could but I really can't leave. I'll see you when you get back though, all right?"

I gave up and sighed, "all right."

"I love you. Be safe."

"I love you too, bye," I hung up.

I ate my lunch quickly and finally drove myself to the Cedar Ridge Ranch. I was not allowed to bring my badge or gun inside with me because I had to be searched before I went in. My job was to spend a week there and make my report.

The first thing I noticed was the military aspect that this facility had. This behavioral boot camp was a literal boot camp for minors. They had a structured schedule and approach that was very similar to a military boot camp in regards to lingo and rankings. It featured an intense fitness component and drill sergeants, along with poor therapy and harsh activities. If I was a poorly behaved child, I'd definitely lash out at a place like this.

It was the longest week of my life. I wasn't able to call Fuller or Tom or anyone while I was locked in there. My heart yearned for Tom, but luckily I was pretty distracted. My body ached, and I was tired and exhausted all the time. I had my roommate, Becca, who gave me information about the abuse that they endure on a daily basis. I suffered it myself and saw it with my own two eyes. There was no way I was going to let this facility stay open a day longer.

Once Thursday rolled around, Fuller must have been coordinating with the Greenville Police Department to get me taken out of the program. One of their officers came in undercover as my father to bail me out. I met with their detectives and showed them my report and the proof I obtained from the claims of abuse, and they invited me to assist on their bust.