Chapter 54

March 4th, 2011

Too Many Incidents

I put a full day in at the Garden Center, handling myriad projects, tasks and problems, had my gear and rifles packed in the Jeep by 7:00, before the 8:00pm meeting began on Friday, and left for The Cabin in the quaint, old village of Adam's Junction, immediately afterward. It was still raining, as well as raw and cold, at 37°F, but at least it wasn't snowing down here. No telling what I'd run into in the mountains where Adam's Junction is located. I passed Harrisburg in a flash, and was soon driving down the waterlogged roads to that village, towards The Cabin, when I saw a creek overflowing the road ahead, and

Police barricades warning of "strong currents" on each of the three sawhorses. I turned around and took an alternative route - some nasty back roads - to Adam's Junction, and then back south to The Cabin. My 1,000ft driveway was under 8"-10" of water, from both the rainfall and snow melt from the 4ac meadow in front of The Cabin, so I drove slowly through it to the raised carport to unload on the left side of the building, and get inside the kitchen door. I heard Jenny barking, and she recognized me immediately and had a big wet kiss. Her dishes were almost empty, so I put my gear and rifles down on the massive oak Dining Room Table, and refilled her 3 bowls. She ate everything in sight. I made sure the Jeep was locked, the kitchen door secured and re-armed the building. The front/rear floodlights were just going off as I turned-up the heat to 78°F to take the chill off The Cabin, and I decided to build a fire. I had plenty of kindling and firewood from the Firewood Storage Shed in the Backyard, piled next to the massive hearth, so getting a fire going was easy.

I checked all the other windows and doors and found them secured as I'd left them last Monday, after my last shift with the Adam's Junction Police Dept. So I unpacked my duffel bag into the dresser and closet, and laid out my 2 long guns – the Full-Auto, Class III AR-10® .308cal (7.62 x 51mm NATO), with the Leupold® Gold Dot Mark 4 CQ/T Scope, and .308cal (7.62 x 51mm NATO) ammo in the new 20-round magazines and Remy® 11-87 Semi-Automatic 12ga Shotgun with devastating Federal® 12ga .00 Buck "FliteControl®" Shells – on the DR table, for checking, cleaning and re-loading. My Kimber® 1911 "Eclipse Target II" .45cal ACP, with Premium 8-round Wilson Combat Magazines, on my right hip was always primed and ready-to-go. I keep that on my belt even in The Cabin, no matter what I'm doing, with plenty of spare loaded mags nearby and two in a Galco Ammo Paddle Holster, just like the Galco "Fed" Paddle Holster which I use for the Kimber .45 1911. Galco products rock, IMO. I called Sgt Clay on my cellphone and told him I was in town for the weekend, but that I'd only have one day to give him for any Police work, this time. He asked if I could come in Saturday morning by 7:30am, to get briefed, re-sworn-in and collect my Police gear. I told him that I needed Sunday off to rest and relax, and he had no problem with that. He had enough Deputies to cover the Sunday shift, and his and the chief's bullet wounds in both their right "shooting arms", were healing faster than expected.

By now, it was almost 11:15pm, and I was tired from the day's many activities. I'd have to be up at 5am or so, to be in by 7:30 to meet with Sgt Clay, so I'd plan on going through all my stacked-up books on the floor around my overstuffed leather chair in front of the hearth, and decide which ones to keep here to finish, and which ones to put away on the bookshelves in the LR. I took two Bayer® Aspirin and turned down the furnace, turned-off the lights and went to sleep. Jenny soon followed and curled-up at the R/S foot of the King-sized bed. I woke-up twice during the night, had a smoke and sip of water each time, and wondered about my latest dream. There was a Sherry – a name but no face as her own – in my dream and I didn't know what to make of it all, just right now. This pleasant dream wasn't like the weird "Bladerunner"-like dreams I'd had on Ambien CR®, or another dream I'd had before, so I just dismissed it for now. I needed sleep, as I had a long day ahead of me.

I was up at 5:15am, to the tune of heavy rain on the windows. The wind was blowing 45-50mph in frequent gusts, and it was "horizontal" this morning. It would suck to have to be out in that mess, if something happened while I was on patrol in Adam's Junction. I watered and fed Jenny, shaved and took a shower, dressed, made breakfast, closed the fireplace flu damper, turned down the furnace, gathered my rain gear and rifle/ shotgun into the Jeep by 7:00am, and headed to town. I mentally made a "list" of the housekeeping chores I needed to do when I got back, and probably into Sunday. I pulled into parking space #7,

as usual, and ran inside.

Deputy Bob was on-duty at the front desk and welcomed me. Deputies Lee and Charles would be coming off-shift any minute, and I'd be out again with Deputy Alex. He waved me back to Sgt Clay's office, where Clay re-swore me in, gave me my Deputy Sheriff Badge & ID, briefed me on the previous week's non-events, and told me to collect the rest of my Police-issued gear. He wasn't wearing the hospital sling on his right arm anymore, and said it was feeling much better now that the stitches were out and it was healing, but still tender. I took that to mean he wished I'd be here more often for "volunteer duty". I told him that my Garden Center & Nursery Business was just about to "come into season", and that I'd be busy 7 days a week in April through June, but in July/ August, I'd be closed on Sundays, and would be coming-up to The Cabin regularly. Otherwise, I'd have to drive-up to feed and water Jenny during the week, or give Randy-the-snowplower, Roy's (Shell Garage & Service Station) son, my keys and have him take care of the dog, as I'd be too tired after working 10-12 hour days.

I caught a short break in the rain and loaded the Police Gear into my Jeep, and drove to Roy's Shell Garage & Service Station to gas-up for the 8am-6pm shift; I got a receipt for my expense report. Then the rain started-up again as I drove west to my downtown 10 square block patrol area. I passed Nell's Kitchen Restaurant & Drive-In and started thinking about lunch, and then passed Adam's-Wilson's Jewelry Store, which had been the scene of last weekend's robbery, and now I was in the quaint residential section of the 10 block area, taking-up almost 6 square blocks. I just liked being there amongst all those well-cared for and well-preserved, turn-of-the-20th-century homes, with their floor-to-ceiling windows, three floors, "widow's walks" on the rooftop, picket fences, gingerbread woodwork and well-manicured yards. I felt like I belonged there and quietly picked two or three I'd buy with the millions I'd made from all that bloodstained-gold in the stream below The Cabin. But I knew it just wasn't to be. I knew that I "belonged somewhere else"; I was just here "on loan to time".

Alex's call for "back-up" came over the walkie-talkie, loud and clear. He was at the Esso (not Exxon) Station out near the freeway and had his hands full with 3 non-resident shoplifters who'd helped themselves to the attached convenience store's goods, and the gas station's gas, and were trying to leave. I found the station on my map, put the red light on the roof of my Jeep and sped to the scene. Alex had one of them cuffed and in the back of his cruiser, after catching him at the gas pump filling their car, but two were still in the convenience store, apparently helping themselves to whatever they wanted. The clerk had run out the front door, only to be shot in the lower back and was lying near the gas pumps. He was bleeding profusely, as his white work shirt plainly showed, but Alex was pinned down behind his car's leeward side for protection, about 35-40yds away from the store. Once again, all he had was the .38cal service revolver and a 12ga shotgun, both semi-useless in this situation unless one was a very good shot. And Alex was just mediocre.

I radioed back for instructions and then anymore information from Alex, but he said he didn't have either. He just needed someone to cover him so he could get the wounded store attendant out of the line of fire. I stopped directly across from the store, on the main road, grabbed my AR-10 and 4 extra mags, got out and got behind the engine for some extra protection. I popped the lens caps on the scope, chambered a round, and scanned the store. I could see both men inside through the massive glass windows. Both had handguns – revolvers it looked like to me – so I yelled at Alex to go get the wounded man. As he did, one of the perps opened the glass door and aimed at Alex. I shot through the glass door and the man dropped. One down and one to go. The downed man had propped the glass door open with his body and the second man ducked behind the cash register counter, playing peek-a-boo with me. Alex had pulled the attendant to safety and I had already called for an ambulance. Problem: Memorial Hospital was on the other side of town, and it would take 10+ minutes for it to get here, even by running all the red traffic lights and stop signs.

I could have easily head-shot the third man, but decided to let him play his hand. He finally tired and threw his handgun out of the partly-open door, and walked out with his hands in the air. I told Alex he was covered and to get to him and cuff him, which he did quickly. His pockets were bulging with cash from the register, candy bars, gum and all sorts of junk food. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the three, until I heard Alex say that the attendant was dead. Then, my sympathy disappeared and I wanted to squeeze-off a round into the third man's skull, but I held my fire, put the safety on, pulled my Kimber 1911 "Eclipse Target II" .45cal ACP, and trotted over to Alex's car, where he was reading the guy his Miranda Rights. "Useless fucking bullshit", I muttered, after shooting and murdering someone, in cold blood, in the back, as he fled to safety, unarmed. But it is what it is, these days. With one dead, the remaining two, IMO, needed immediate trial and execution to save the Taxpayers the cost a bullshit trial and protracted jail or prison time.

It's not my intention to be the judge here — that's God's "job" — but rather to "hasten the meeting" so that He can send the murderous subhuman filth to the "Fires of Hell", "River or Lake of Sulphur", or whatever He deems appropriate. I'd gladly/happily volunteer, at no cost to any of my Hard-Working, Fellow US Taxpayers, to gladly/gleefully/happily headshoot these murderous, lowlife dirtbags of all stripes — their skin-color doesn't matter to me, at all — and rid American Society's innocents (especially our precious children and the frail, defenseless elderly) of them, once-and-for-all. And "yes", I'd rather see one innocent man convicted and executed, than 10 murderers/robbers/child rapists-murderers freed, to rob, rape and murder again. Hey; call me an "Old Fashioned Conservative"! Too harsh? No, not at all. Yes, I agree with the premise of this article, that "the death penalty is a Noahic Covenant with God, in a post-flood world".

Be those thoughts as they may swirl around in my staunchly-Conservative Head, my sworn duty was to minimize injury and death to innocent civilians, and deliver the criminal(s) to the proper authorities for prosecution, trial and sentencing, despite my personal feelings. Crap.

By now Sgt Clay had shown-up, and two ambulance from Memorial had also arrived. The EMTs put the attendant and first perp who shot him, in body bags and would take the bodies directly to the County Coroner's Facility for autopsy. Alex and I conferred with Clay and made notes for our combined Incident Reports later in the evening, which would be turned-over to Stan Robbins, County DA, for further action. Harrisburg's CSI had already been called into the milieu and was scheduled to arrive by 2pm and begin their work. Meanwhile the gas station and convenience store had been closed down and police-taped-off to avoid any contamination of the crime scene. So at 12:15pm, Alex and I went back to our patrol areas.

Sgt Clay followed me for a while and I called-in a lunch order of a Turkey Club w/ Fries to Nell's Kitchen, radioing the Dispatcher with a "10-20 lunch 25mins", and Clay pulled in next to me. "How'd you get so good with that special rifle, .45cal and 12ga semi-auto shotgun, he asked. I reminded him about my VietNam background as a 3rd Special Forces (Green Berets) sniper and my counter-insurgency and POW rescue work in Laos, Cambodia and Thailand. He remembered my application and DD-214, plus commendations and many medals for my 3 tours in that hellhole, in the early 70s. I invited him inside for lunch, but he said he needed to get back to the Station, and take charge again. I bid him adieu.

I paid, tipped the cashier and left, and ate in my Jeep, until the next call came over the walkie-talkie from Alex. Someone on the freeway had shot-out three of his cruiser's tires, and he suspected the three perps, which we'd just dealt with, had "friends" waiting. I did a u-turn and sped back to where I could get a view of the cruiser parked on the shoulder, Alex crouching again on the leeward engine-side of the car, and saw a clapped-out Ford 250 pick-up across 6 lanes of traffic, randomly shooting at him. I entered the freeway and pulled up on the Ford's side, about 250yds south of it, angling my Jeep to the guardrail, so I'd have some engine protection. After getting the AR-10 back out, and loading my Tactical Range Vest's 2 pockets with 4 x 20-round loaded mags. After popping-up the scope's lens caps, I scanned the vehicle and two men, with Virginia license plates. I called the plates in, got some IDs, and took careful aim at both of them. Alex' cruiser's right side had 10-15 bullet holes in the doors and windshield, plus the 3 flat tires. The two men were crouching near the front of their truck, also using the engine as cover.

They fired another 5-6 shot volley at Alex, while I took aim on them both, tightly stacked side-by-side in front of the truck's motor. The .308 cal(7.62 x 51mm NATO) FMJ (Full Metal Jacket) round would easily pass through the first and into the second bad guy, if I "hit it just right". I'd done this shot numerous time before, with great effect, thereby saving an out-and-out firefight. I radioed both the Dispatcher and Sgt Clay, informing them of the unfolding situation. I got the "go ahead" from Clay. And I did it when the time was right; both went down with one shot. The .308cal has more terminal velocity and killing power at 600-900yds, than a .357Magnum does at point-blank range. I ran to the truck, secured their 9mms and shotguns, cuffed the both to the tailgate, and called for another ambulance. Both had pulses, but were getting pale and their breathing was getting shallow. I'm not an civilian-trained EMT, so I waited

until the real EMTs arrived and attended to them. Sgt Clay arrived 8-9 minutes later, just as the ambulance was leaving. "Nice shooting, John!, he said. Crap, more paperwork for me and I hadn't finished lunch yet, and it was already 1:30pm. I took notes to use in my Incident Report.

I went back on patrol and gave Alex a lift to the Station, while Roy's Shell Garage & Service Station's wrecker towed the crippled Police Car back to the Station, and Alex requisitioned another unit. I finished my Club Sandwich on the way back. We split-up and went our separate ways to our assigned areas. It was getting on to 3:45pm, and I longed for this to be over, so I could go back to The Cabin, grad a shower, change, light a fire and do some reading before going to sleep. But more was to come.

I slowly drove down West Oak St to 14th and turned left onto Elm Street and 17th St, where I saw a "juvenile party in progress", spilling out of the house and onto the front lawn. Liquor was definitely involved. I radioed the address back to the Dispatcher, and she came-up with the parents' names, who were away for the weekend. Figures. I called Alex and Clay for back-up and told one of them to bring a box-load of cuffs and a camera. Meanwhile, I drove down the block, did a u-turn and pulled against the curb, across from the house at 2357 Elm St, owned by Mr Mike & Mrs Betty Crossdahl. There must have been 50-60 kids, from 13-17 there, in various states of drunkeness. Then I heard 3 gunshots, and 3 teens were lying on the porch steps and lawn. I radioed the Dispatcher to send 2-3 ambulances from Memorial, which was only 3-4 blocks away. 10-15 kids were running for their vehicles, throwing beer and liquor bottles on the well-kept lawns as they jumped into their cars. I got 5 plate numbers and partials on the cars. The other kids ran back inside the house.

Clay showed-up first, just as the ambulances arrived; then Alex arrived and blocked-off Elm St. I was doing CPR of one of them, and my hand and arms were covered in her blood. The EMTs pronounced 2 dead at the scene, with the girl still clinging-to-life. They rushed her back to the ER's Trauma Center, where an OR and a medical-surgical team was waiting. I took the front door; Clay and Alex went around opposite side to secure the side and back doors so no more escapes could happen. Deputy Bob was called-off the front desk and the Dispatcher called-in Deputies Charles and Lee, from a sound sleep. This was going to take some doing, with all those rowdy, drunken kids. Surprisingly, when I knocked on the front door, while standing to the left side and out of the path of any gunshots, the door opened and 45 tearful, drunken kids came out with their hands up. All were frisked and cuffed; ID was needed on each and every one of them. I found the owners' sons and took them aside for questioning.

Apparently, as their story goes: they and their friends were having a quiet drinking party when 10-15 older boys from a neighboring high school showed-up and crashed the party. They beat-up some of the younger boys and helped themselves to the booze and young girls, with several being raped upstairs. Guns were pulled by the HS boys, and everyone was told not to interfere or they'd be shot. All the younger kids were made to empty wallets and pocket change into one of the HS boy's baseball caps, which overflowed. "Jackpot"!, he screamed. The the younger kids, who outnumbered the HS boys by 5-1, rushed them, and the fights began. After trying to get out the front door and away, the younger kids followed, only to have 3 of their own shot. They retreated back into the house. Blood stains were all over the porch, steps and sidewalk. There were some legible and useable fingerprints on the bottles of the older boys, and CSI was called by Clay to get here ASAP to ID the older boys. Sgt Clay took charge immediately, and cordoned-off both ends of the block with newly-arrived Charles's and Lee's cruisers. The house was secured and taped as a "Police Crime Scene" and parents of the kids were called to come pick-up their own and get them out of here, after giving brief statements which meshed with the owners' two sons.

I grabbed my hi-power Police flashlight and found two spent 9mm shell casings among the liquor and beer bottles, which I preserved for evidence for CSI, who was expected within 20-30mins. Neighbors were out on their front lawn all up and down the block, and were told to go back inside. Only a few complied. I gave them 5 minutes to comply, or I'd cite them. That cleared-out the gawkers. Clay frowned at me. I shrugged; it worked.

After all the other kids's parents had signed an ROR (Released On Own Recognizance) form, only the two 16 and 17 year old brothers remained, and they were cuffed and taken down to the Station for further, in-depth questioning about the evening's activities. They stuck to their story 100%, as did the other 40-45 younger kids. Sgt let them call their parents, on a skiing vacation for the weekend in the Poconos, and they said they'd rush right back. I didn't want to be around when the four were reunited; it was going to get ugly. The amount of paperwork on this would be staggering, and Alex volunteered to do it, with just a brief statement from me, since I was off on Sunday. It was 4:40pm now.

I went back on patrol, after telling Clay and Alex I'd meet with them after the shift, at the Station. I just wanted the day to be over and was looking forward to a very peaceful Sunday. I turned off Elm St and headed for Oak and 8th street, the start of my patrol area. All was quiet, but there were numerous cars on the roads now that the rains had stoped and the streets had drained-off and weren't flooded anymore. At least everything had a "clean look" to it, from the hard rains.

While driving, I cursed the fact that criminals and children had any access to guns, for mayhem and murder. But banning all guns was a stupid idea: the law-abiding Citizen would be denied his/her Constitutional 2nd Amendment Right, while both the other groups, and many others, would still be able to get illegal guns, and would cause mayhem and murder on a scale we'd never be able to imagine. What's the answer? Is there even an answer? I don't know, truthfully.

Just then, I saw Elmore Samulsen with his behemoth '55 Buick Roadmaster with 14 tons of chrome and a bumper jack —, pulled over to the side of Oak St, with another flat tire. It was a different one this time. I parked behind it, put on the flashing light, and got out to inspect the tire. No wonder his tires are going flat: they're the original tires and are "dry-rotted" and leaking like sieves. I suggested to Elmore that he either get new look-alikes or have tubes put into each tire, so they don't leak. He nodded "yes". I radioed Roy's Shell Garage & Service Station and told him the problem, from last week and right now. Roy said he had tubes big enough to fit and Elmore asked that he come pick him up with the wrecker/ flatbed, and take the Buick to the station to get them installed, until he could order some replacement tires in the wide, white sidewall early-50s style. Problem solved. I wrote-up an Incident Report until Roy arrived and towed the behemoth away. I gave Elmore a lift to the gas station, as it was on my way to the Police Station and my shift had just ended.

I pulled into #7 space at the Police Station and saw both Clay's and Alex's cruisers already there. Deputies Charles and Lee would be out on our shift now, and I was officially off-duty. Tim waved me past the front desk into Clay's office, where he was busy with Alex writing-up the "underage children's drinking part and shooting". CSI was here in the conference room, going over gathered evidence and paperwork. Soon, they'd go to the site and do what they needed to do to conclude the investigation. A couple of the younger kids had already ID'd one of the shooters, and the PA State Police would be picking him up in a matter of minutes, with a bench-issued warrant for murder. The autopsies would determine how many of the two dead children he'd shot and killed; the third was in ICU, still clinging to life. If she died, another murder charge would be added. I sat and listened and added-in my statements to round-out the report, and signed it.

Clay asked that I do my other reports — I handed him the just-written Samulsen-Buick Report — and then I could sign-out for the weekend. I'd brought all my Police-issued gear in and inventoried it. Clay asked that I keep the Deputies's Badge, just in case I was needed and he wasn't around to swear me in, and I said alright. Alex smiled at me and nodded. So did Clay. I was a full-time volunteer Deputy Sheriff now, trusted by Clay & Co, to "keep the peace" in Adam's Junction. Made me feel proud. After finishing all of the remaining Incident Reports, I signed-out and told Clay that I'd be at The Cabin all-day Sunday if all-hell broke loose, or he could reach me by cellphone 24x7. I left and went home to Jenny.

Pulling into the 1,000ft gravel drive to The Cabin, I noticed that the 8-10" of snow melt water had receded towards the lower creek, and it was down to the 6" of ½" crushed bluestone gravel I'd had installed as a base. Good thing I never black topped it all, as the floodwaters would have lifted it up and destroyed it. Best to leave it as just a gravel driveway, which drains. Another 2-3" of stone would need to be added in the coming Spring. I parked in front of the massive deck with the oversized picnic table, both free of snow for the first time this Winter. After disarming the building, I brought my gear and rifles inside and laid it all on the massive oak DR table. I needed to clean the AR, but first things first. Jenny was hungry and I refilled her 3 bowls. She supped gratefully. I locked the storm door but left the main door open to let additional light in on a cloudy afternoon. It would be dark within 30-45mins, anyway. It was 6:45pm, and I had some laundry to do, a fire to build, change bed linens and bathroom towels, turn-up the furnace, and make something to eat.

The furnace at 78°F and fire felt wonderful. I took off my Kimber 1911 .45cal and Deputy Sheriff Badge, and laid them on the DR table, too, nearest my overstuffed leather chair in front of the fireplace. I would begin reading other unfinished books, instead of one of two books I'd later get at Border's in York, a few days after I get back to York: "Pillars Of The Earth", and "World Without End", both by Ken Follett, recommended by my friend, Linda, back in York on Sunday. Meanwhile, I finished reading Glenn Beck's "Broke", and put it on to the "finished pile".

I shaved, took a shower, and changed into some clean clothes. Somehow, being on patrol always made me "feel dirty". I'll save the load of laundry, vacuuming etc for Sunday morning, and concentrate on some quality sleep tonight. Hopefully, Sgt Clay won't call and say he needs me for Police work on Sunday, and I can have a full day to myself, for reading, relaxing and walking Jenny around the property. I brought all the guns into the Master Bedroom, laid the Kimber 1911 .45cal, with a round chambered and safety on, on the nightstand next to my cellphone. With the heat turned down to 70°F, it was 8:45pm, and I was asleep within 5-mins. Jenny quickly joined me at the foot of the bed.

I was up at 0-Dark-Thirty (5:15am), turned up the furnace to 78°F, watered and fed Jenny, made coffee and breakfast, and built a roaring fire just for good measure. Jenny curled-up on her Kodiak bearskin in front of the massive hearth. I sat with my coffee thinking about the dream of Sherry - a name but no face as her own. In 45 minutes, it was starting to get light and I knew Spring was on the way. I put a load of laundry through the wash & dry cycles, folded them and put it all into my duffel bag on the freshly-changed and made bed. I had everything ready to load into the Jeep for the trip back to York, and to get ready for the coming week's activities at the Garden Center.

I decided to take a ride into Adam's Junction to see if Bev & Tony's General Store was open yet, as I had a short shopping list for The Cabin. I also needed a carton of Marlboros (red box), which Bev carried just for me, as no one else in town smoked them. Wonder why? Such a beautiful, quaint, old village and so well-preserved, turn-of-the-20th-century homes. After shutting-down and securing The Cabin, I drove past my three favorite homes but actually, all of them in the village were my favorites. (There's a town just across the Susquehanna River from East York - Columbia - which has the same type of home styles, and they're drop-dead beautiful at Christmas. That's my favorite time of the year to drive the marked "downtown route", and take pics of them.)

I stopped at Bev & Tony's General Store as they were just opening at 9:00am. I parked in front of the store and went inside. Clarice was handling the store until Bev & Tony returned from the 8:30am Church Services, and she knew me from months ago when Tony's store was almost robbed, which I stopped, and all of his large plate glass windows were shot out and had to be replaced. I took an arm basket, got Marlboro®s, some canned goods, dogfood, and a new broom, as mine was in tatters from sweeping snow off the massive deck and picnic table at The Cabin. I paid for it all, and was loading it in my Jeep, when I heard the alarm go off at Adam's-Wilson's Jewelry Store just down the street, and saw 2 men running from the store. I radioed the Dispatcher that a "211 (robbery) was in progress", and told her my status. I asked for instructions from Clay, who was taking a crap at the minute. This couldn't wait as Deputy Tim at the front desk radioed Deputies Charles and Lee for "immediate back-up" for me. They were on their way; meanwhile it was just me vs them. I grabbed the AR-10 from its Eagle Carrying Bag in the back seat, plus 4 x 20-round mags, checked my Kimber 1911 .45cal ACP to see that it a round chambered and the safety was on and grabbed 5 extra mags from my multi-purpose shooter's vest, and scooted north to the first store's recessed doorway. There, I took aim at both perps, just seeing who they were through the über-high-quality Leupold® Gold Dot Mark 4 CQ/T Scope. They both had sawed-off shotguns and 9mms. Chumps.

I wished I had also had the Remy 11-87 Semi-Auto 12ga Shotgun, in case I decided to move-in much closer, but that was too much equipment and ammo to lug around in these tight spaces. The AR-10 would well-suffice for this incident. They'd apparently pistol-whipped the proprietor and cleaned-out the display cases, since the owner fell halfway-in and halfway-out of the front door, trying to chase them, with blood streaming from his face and head. I radioed Memorial Hospital for 2 ambulances to stand-by 1 block away in "safety-mode", until I gave the "all safe" call to come in and get the injured.

From my vantage point in the doorway, the perps had loaded 3 medium bags of loot into their SUV and were just trying to get it started and leave. I took the safety off the AR-10, and shot-out the right-rear, left-rear and left-front tires, plus put 3 shots into their gas tank, so they wouldn't get very far, even if they left. I leaned the AR-10 again the brick wall, and ran back to the Jeep to get my bulletproof vest, so Sgt Clay wouldn't go "batshit" if he saw me without it during an incident or on patrol. That done, some civilians began peeping from their 2nd floor apartments to see what all the "commotion" was all about. I yelled at them to get back inside, close the windows and get down.

Both the driver and passenger fired a couple of wild, unaimed shots in my direction, and I responded with a shot to the driver's left shoulder, causing him to swerve and crash into another parked car. He slumped-over, while the passenger got out and ran for it with his sawed-off, a 9mm and one bag of the loot. He turned around and shot at me with his 9mm from about 100yds, missing me by 10-15ft. I crouched, took careful aim with the AR-10, and shot him in the left calf and right ankle, which shattered and he fell writhing in pain and blood. Just then, Deputies Charles and Lee, and Sgt Clay pulled-up and blocked both ends of the street, got their shotguns out and proceeded with caution to the crashed car. I had already secured the perp's shotgun and 9mm, and cuffed him to the steering wheel after taking the ignition keys and throwing them 50ft away from the crippled vehicle.

I was over and on top of the 2nd leg-wounded perp, securing his weapons and cuffing him to a fire hydrant. I called for the 2 ambulances to come quickly, and the EMTs took over on the owner, first perp with the shoulder wound, and the second perp with the leg injuries. Deputies Charles and Lee supervised the perps' transport to the hospital, and then went back out on patrol. Clay just chuckled, as he thought I was having a nice quite, relaxing day. Now I had Incident Reports to fill-out again, and turn-in with my expense report, and pick-up expense report checks from previous weeks. (((Sigh))).

I followed Clay back to the Station, parked in Space #7, and went inside with all the past two hour's notes and facts in my head, ready to commit to paper. I sat in Deputy Tim's office and filled-in an Incident Report for the morning and handed it into Clay, who filed it in the day's folder. He handed me a small stack of past expense checks, and I thanked him. It was already 11:45am, and I was getting hungry, so I asked Clay if he wanted anything from Nell's Kitchen. He'd brought his lunch and declined. I signed-out and headed to Nell's after calling-in a Reuben Sandwich & Chips. It would be waiting for me.

The local 10:30am Church Services were just letting-out and the streets were getting busy, once again, with many people heading to Nell's Kitchen, Uncle Ray's Rib Joint or Sarah's Place for lunch. I waited in line until it was my turn at the register, got some "kudos" from neighbors on my recent arrests. paid-up with tip and went to my Jeep. I drove back to The Cabin to eat and share with Jenny, but she wasn't interested in "peoples' food", so I refilled her wet food bowl, turned-up the heat, armed the building and built a roaring fire. I brought the three bags of groceries inside and unpacked them and suddenly I

was so tired that I had trouble navigating the rooms. I sat and leaned back into the leather chair, closed my eyes and fell asleep. The Reuben sandwich went cold. I could feel a fever coming on, as my face was flush, forehead very hot and I was shivering. Wrapped-up in an afghan, I slept, too tired to even to got the bathroom and get some aspirin. It was nearly 5:30pm when I awoke and it was getting dark quickly. I closed-up The Cabin, locked and armed it and reset the fr/r auto spotlights.

I had all kinds of meetings and landscape road trips planned for this week, Kim would be in 4 days to work on CounterPoint inventory and then GardenWare label/signs/tags, so it wasn't as if I had a choice about not going into work on Monday; I had to go. If I went to sleep as soon as I got home to York, and got up very early — say 8:30-9:00am — I could easily make it into work by 10:00am, after watering and feeding Murphy, with plenty of time to spare. That's what I'd do. I'd have to come back up to The Cabin once or twice during the week just to take care of Jenny, and get some other mundane chores done. I turned down the furnace, let the fire burn-out, closed the flu damper, set the alarm and went to bed. I was asleep in less than 3 minutes.

I was up at 3:05am, packed the Jeep, armed the building and left for York. After getting home, I went to bed for another couple of hours sleep. Then, time to go to work at the GC&N Complex.

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