An undercover officer is patrolling the streets of Oakland.

Let's call him Sam.

It's summer and it's hot.

Sam's worked enough years on the force to know that long summer days can lead the short

tempers and he's alert as he scans passing faces. As he reaches the corner he

squints at a glass office tower that fills the block. Then something catches his eye on the hill to the left.

There's a man standing there and something seems off.

The guy's beard is scraggily, his clothes are torn.

He's out of place in the sea of business suits

swirling around him.

The man is black, maybe mid-30s, a similar build and skin tone as Sam.

The officer feels a familiar tingle on his neck and says to himself,

something's not right with this

guy. He takes a few steps up the hill and the man starts down in Sam's direction.

What's he up to, the cop wonders?

As he gets closer, the nervous feeling gets more intense.

Could he have a gun?

Sam quickly looks him up and down for a telltale bulge in his waistband.

Nope. And he doesn't appear to be reaching into his pockets

for a weapon either. In fact, he's not really doing anything remarkable except slowly

walking towards him. Still, Sam can't shake the feeling that this guy is armed. Then, as he crosses

the street towards the building, Sam loses sight of him. Then he finds him again. Now the man is

...