Standoff

So there I was…


Two of my friends had been dispatched to a domestic 
disturbance.  That’s pretty normal, and about 90% of the time people call 
the police on their spouse because they’re mad at each other.  I’d say we 
make an arrest about 10% of the time (we are required to arrest of probable 
cause exists, but yelling isn’t probable cause).


So, no big deal, I thought.  They’ll show up, talk to both 
sides, and tell them to behave like adults before they leave.  The caller 
was the female half, and she reported that her neck was injured.


“Ok,” I thought, “maybe there really is something to this 
one.  We’ll see.”  About half the time someone reports an injury, they’re 
lying to get us there faster, you see.


So, anyway, it wasn’t my concern.  Two other cops had been dispatched.  So, 
I parked myself at one of our top 25 accident intersections to “monitor 
traffic.”  We have to do that so many times per tri-mester, you see, so I 
had to check the box.  I had the radar plugged in and would have pulled 
someone over for going REALLY fast, but I was actually there to eat lunch.


Brand new hot cup of coffee with hazelnut creamer in hand, I opened up my 
lunch.  It had been a long, busy work day thus far, and I was really looking 
forward to it.


No sooner did I get it open when the officers on the domestic call called 
for “cover code 3.”  As restrictive as our policy is on running with lights 
and sirens, I knew it was bad in a big way.


Sure enough, the dispatcher called my call sign to respond.  Having learned 
from past experiences (remember my coffee story last year?), I tossed the 
piping hot coffee right out the window and took off like Richard Petty.  
Lights and sirens blaring, I was doing over 110 mph down Academy Blvd.  It 
was about 0400, so there was scant little traffic to maneuver around (of 
course, I passed three DUI drivers and could do nothing about it).


While I was still en route, I heard the officers radio that they were 
fighting with one suspect (the domestic suspect’s friend), and had Tased 
him.  They also aired that the primary suspect had barricaded himself inside 
the house and could be seen putting on body armor.


Oh crap.  No one puts on body armor unless they’re getting ready for a real 
fight.  I’m thinking “Branch Davidian” stuff.  I mashed the pedal even 
harder.  I really don’t know how fast I was going at that point, because I 
was too busy driving to look down at the speedometer.  You drive by the seat 
of your pants (literally ­ trained drivers know what I mean ­ you feel what 
the car is doing in your butt) when you’re going that fast.


I rolled up and cut the sirens off, grabbed Ol’ Bessy, my 12 gauge shotgun, 
out of the rack, and ran.  I could see one officer fighting with a suspect 
(the Taser hadn’t worked), and the other officer had his pistol trained on 
the house.  I knew immediately that the second officer wasn’t helping to 
fight the suspect because there was a threat in the house ­ the barricaded 
suspect ­ he had to watch their backs.


So I ran up on the officer that was fighting, and buttstroked the suspect 
in the head with my shotgun.  That got his attention, and the handcuffs were 
on in a matter of seconds.  The officer then dragged that suspect away, 
threw him in the back of a cruiser, and moved the cruiser a few houses down. 
  Where it had been parked, the suspect in the cruiser would have been 
directly in the line of fire had we started shooting it out with the 
barricaded suspect.


Ok, one suspect was secure.  We started setting up containment around the 
house so the suspect inside couldn’t get away.  I caught a glimpse of him 
through a window, and realized that the body armor he put on wasn’t the 
“normal” stuff we wear.  It was the IBAS “Interceptor” armor currently being 
used by the military, and it has tough ceramic plates over an inch thick in 
addition to the Kevlar shell.  I’ve actually seen people get shot by an 
AK-47 when they’re wearing this stuff and bounce up shooting, uninjured.


Oh crap.  Images of the Las Angeles bank robbery from about ten years ago 
started going through my head.  As my shotgun was loaded with buckshot, I 
figured I’d better up the ante and cranked some slugs into it.  A slug to 
the body wouldn’t stop a guy with that armor on, but it would knock him down 
and allow us some groin and head shots (the idea in a groin shot is to 
destroy the pelvis so they can’t advance on you ­ it’s not about blowing 
away his privates, although if it happens then too bad for him).


Containment was established quickly, and we learned that the female victim 
was with another officer nearby.  She related that no one else was in the 
house.  Good.  The only person to worry about was the bad guy, we didn’t 
have to worry about hostages or kids getting caught in the line of fire. 
More good news.


We knew he was still inside because he quickly set about pushing the 
furniture up against the doors.  He started yelling through the walls that 
we were going to have to kill him, too.  A sergeant showed up and took 
command.  The garage door was open, and the suspect was standing near the 
door leading into the house.  We could hear him, and he was shouting at us 
through the door.  There was also a pick-up parked in the garage.  I snuck 
into the garage and used the pick-up for cover.  I was about 10 feet from 
the door and off to the side so that he wouldn’t see me if he opened it.


After a few minutes, he opened that door and the SGT tried to negotiate his 
surrender.  The guy would talk for a few minutes, but the only things he 
would say was that we were going to have to kill him, he was going to kill 
himself, etc.  He even challenged us to come inside after him a few times, 
but he refused to show us both hands at once.  We assumed he was armed.  He 
also had a large Rambo-type knife strapped to his hip.


After a few minutes of talking, he’d get angry and slam the door.  The SGT 
paged the SWAT team.  Then the suspect returned to the door and we repeated 
the first session ­ threats, challenges, etc., followed by slamming the 
door.  This went on for about an hour and a half.  Of course the SWAT team 
never got there.


When the suspect was inside once, I got the opportunity to look at some of 
the items in the garage.  He had Army duffle bags with his unit, rank, and 
other information painted on the bottom.  From that, I learned that he was a 
Staff Sergeant in the infantry.  I also recognized the unit, and knew that 
they had just returned home from their second deployment to Iraq.


“Great,” I thought.  “The Army used him up, made him go nuts, and now I’m 
going to have to kill him.”  We’re seeing more and more of that as the war 
drags on.


Once, the suspect opened the door and the negotiations resumed.  I couldn’t 
see him from where he was standing, but I could tell by the changes in his 
voice that he was planning a bold move.  Then he did a “combat peak” ­ he 
checked the corner around which I was hiding very quickly, and without 
exposing hardly any of himself to my fire (my shotgun was aimed at the 
drywall next to the door.  From the angle, I knew that my slug would go 
through the drywall and tag him).  No one knows how to do that unless 
they’re combat trained.  It confirmed what I had learned from his duffle 
bags ­ this guy was no chump looking to fight the cops, he was an 
experienced war veteran who knew how to handle such things.  It confirmed in 
my mind that I was going to have to shoot this guy ­ he wasn’t surrendering, 
and he had just seen where I was located.  Oh crap.


Oh yeah, as to tasing him, no way.  That armor won’t conduct the 
electricity.  OC spray?  Too far away.  Charge?  Heck no, we were still 
assuming he was armed.  Crap.  Crap.  Crap.  The negotiations continued, and 
the SWAT team was still getting out of bed.


Finally after about an hour and a half, the suspect said, “Guys, I’m 
starting to sober up.”  That was our break.  A few more minutes of talking 
and the guy took the body armor off, and walked out to surrender.


“One in custody.”   Gee, thanks a lot SWAT team!  Glad you could show up!