Vigil of the 'Nighthawk'

District Police Capt. Kevin Anderson rips his pistol from its holster, steadying it against his right thigh, a finger hovering near the trigger.

Seconds earlier, he spotted a white van braking near a woman waiting at a bus stop in the pre-dawn darkness. Armed robbers jumping out of a white van have been pouncing on pedestrians in recent weeks in Northeast Washington, and Anderson suspects that another assault may be imminent.

But the driver, it turns out, is a deliveryman searching for a newspaper box to fill. He never sees the 9mm weapon, never knows Anderson was ready to point it at his torso.

"I've got to have the jump on them. I can't let them get the jump on me," the officer says as he slides the pistol back onto his hip. "My objective is to go home. The only way I'm going to do it is to stay alert, stay quick and stay focused."

On this cold winter night, Anderson is the "nighthawk," one of about three dozen D.C. police captains who work three- or four-shift rotations every few months, essentially serving as the city's chief of police while the chief and other officials sleep.

His task: to cruise through the city, responding to incidents ranging from the curious to the deadly. He is supposed to make sure that investigations begin promptly and that the necessary resources arrive inside the yellow crime tape. On the midnight tour, he is in charge of keeping the city as peaceful and orderly as possible.

"When the chief or an assistant chief calls," the 21-year police veteran says, "you better have the answers."

He has the routine down. Minutes before the shift starts at 11 p.m., Anderson chugs a potion laced with vitamins and ginseng, chasing it with a can of Red Bull energy drink. He then prays, silently and quickly, often requesting inclement weather, which tends to tamp down police calls.

No luck tonight. Skies are clear as Anderson's Cruiser 28 slips under a police cordon outside a Capitol Hill rowhouse. A teenager suspected of armed robbery and shooting at police ran into the house and barricaded himself after allegedly leading police on a 90 mph chase.

Officers duck behind police cars as they aim assault rifles at the house. The 17-year-old suspect is believed to still have a gun, but that didn't stop the house's owner, a retired lawyer, from bashing him on the head with a copper frying pan as he and his wife fled.

Down the block sits a stolen black Chevy Suburban -- its front end crushed, back window smashed, front tires blown out. Shattered glass crunches underfoot as Anderson walks over to relieve Cmdr. Thomas McGuire as field commander.

Usually Anderson would make sure that the right police units were at the scene and then give them the leeway to do their jobs.