I waited by one of the doors to the school that was on the back side of the building for the cars that Chang had described to pull up. Officer Evans would be in the first car, and Detective Cassingham would be driving the second one. I was to get into the car that Cassingham was driving, lay down in the back seat and wait to be told that I could come up for air. I heard the dismissal bell ring and watched as a white Crown Vic came around the corner, followed by a red suburban. I knew that Evans was driving the Crown Vic and Cassingham was driving the suburban. I cautiously looked around before exiting the school. I ran out and got in the back of the suburban, pulling the door closed and hearing them click as Detective Miranda Cassingham locked the doors. She flashed her lights at Evans and they took off from behind the school. I felt the suburban lurch as Cassingham hit the gas, I rolled into the back of the seat as we flew forward.

“Stay down, Morgan.” Detective Miranda Cassingham said. I felt the suburban turn to the left and figured we were in the parking lot. “I’m about to make a hard left and run a light. Be ready for anything.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I said, lowering my self into the space between the passenger seat and the back seat. This would provide the maximum protection if something happened. I felt the suburban make a hard left, the rear end fishtailing before catching. Horns honked. Detective Cassingham punched the gas and once again, I was driven backwards into the seat. The anything that Detective Cassingham spoke of was the crack of a gun firing and the sound of the back window shattering. I heard the bullet hiss as it flew over my head and then a thunk as it entered the front passenger seat. I felt her push the gas, and then felt the SUV get hit from behind. Most people would be screaming, but one thing that our father had somehow instilled in us was that panicking did no good, and that if you stayed calm, you stood a better chance of getting through whatever was causing the panic. I carefully raised my head up to get a glimpse behind us when I felt my shoulder get nudged. I glanced up at Cassingham and saw that she was handing me her weapon.

“If you can disable that car, do it. Do you have your phone?” she asked.

“Yes.” Whoever was driving the car rolled up and bumped the back end of the Suburban, trying to execute a PIT.

“Call the Dispatch Center, tell them who you are and that we are west bound on Marconi, coming up on Simpson and that D4 is issuing a three. Tell them to track your phone and keep the line open.” I pulled my phone out and dialed the Dispatch Center.

“Takoma Police, Tech Seventy two.” Came a voice from someone in the dispatch center.

“This is Morgan Smith, I’m with Detective Cassingham. We are west bound on Marconi approaching Simpson. D4 is issuing a 10-3. There is a-“ I poked my head up just high enough to see the car behind us. “Light brown Chrysler behind us, Tag is AK339FD.” I heard the dispatcher typing, and then an all call come off the radio mounted in the front of the car.

“I’m making a hard right up here, Northbound on Simpson. See if they can bring everyone in behind us.”

“KQW992 to all units, D4 is 10-3, Repeat D4 is 10-3. Northbound on Simpson from Marconi. Suspect vehicle is a light brown Chrysler.” I braced my self for the turn that was coming. I knew what type of turn this was going to be. Cassingham was going to hang a U turn and take us back toward the responding units. The suburban that we were in belonged to Auto Task Force and it was modified to, if necessary, hit a vehicle to stop it. I curled up in the floor board behind the passenger seat, my back against the door to keep from moving around too much.

“Morgan, advise the Dispatch Center that I’m in a task force vehicle, I will ram this guy if I have to. Get ready for the turn.”

“I copied.” A few seconds later the radio came alive.

“All Units responding on the 3, be advised that D4 is in a Task Force vehicle.”

“Are you ready, Morgan?”

“Yep.” There was a thunk as the Surburban stopped a round that had entered the lift gate. I carefully raised my self up and looked back at the car that was chasing us. I wondered how many rounds this guy had… So far I counted seven rounds, no, make that eight. There was now a hole in the window a foot off of where Detective Cassingham was sitting. I looked at the Glock model 23 in my hand. “Detective, permission to fire on the car that is chasing us?”

“Morgan, if you can take him out, do it. It’s him or us, it’s self defense.” There was another thunk as a bullet penetrated the headrest of the seat a foot above my head.

“Morgan, I concur.” Tech 72 said into my ear. I knew that everything was being recorded, so I knew that the entire incident was logged.

“Miranda, can you hold the phone and drive?” I asked her as another bullet passed through the windshield.

“Normally, yes, but not at this speed. I’ll have to put the phone in the cup holder.” Came her reply.

“Dispatch, I’m passing you off to D4, we are going to keep the line open.” I handed he phone to Detective Cassingham. “Miranda, how many rounds do I have?”

“Fourteen. Thirteen are in the Mag, and one in the pipe.”

“Ok. It’s gonna get kind of loud in here.” I replied, peering over the top of the seat. Carl Paskly was trying to reload and drive at sixty miles an hour at the same time and was all over the road. I took aim and fired three rounds through the grill on the front of the now beat up Chrysler. I raised the Glock and fired two shots right at Paskly. With the way he was swerving, both shots missed, but I got his attention. Steam was pouring from the three holes I had put in the radiator. Paskly racked the slide on his gun and pointed it at me, so I dropped down below the seats again. I reached up and grabbed the phone. “I put three rounds in his radiator. Fired two at him but missed. I think I made him mad.” Four rounds hit the liftgate. He was just firing, not really caring where the rounds went or who they hit.

“Turning now!” Miranda shouted, and then turned the wheel to the right as far as it would go and hit the gas. The back end snapped out and just slipped around, and we headed right for Paskly, who opened fire at the front of the Suburban. As we passed the car that Paskly was driving, I opened fire from where I sat. I fired four rounds in the time that it took the two vehicles to pass each other. I knew that three of my four rounds had hit some part of his car, and the fourth sent a shower of blood erupting from his right arm. I could see him scream, as we passed, but I was unable to hear him as every marked cruiser in the city and surrounding area bore down on us. Knowing that we now had the entire police department there I collapsed in the floor board, and tossed the gun on the seat away from me. “Are you ok?” Miranda asked, turning in the seat as best she could while still having her seat belt on.

“Physically, or mentally?” I asked, trying to make light of what had just happened.

“Both.” She replied. The suburban was surrounded by marked cruisers and everyone was out and and had their guns pointed at the Oldsmobile. The door behind me was yanked open and I was carried toward the back of the line of cruisers. I was placed in the back seat of a cruiser, and looked up at the concerned faces of Lieutenant Chang and Officer Mullin. There was a few seconds of silence and then the sound of gunfire broke into the air. Chang and Mullin both collapsed toward me to shield me in case the bullets were intended for me. Over some radio, I heard the words “Shots fired, shots fired, shots fired. Suspect is down, repeat, suspect is down.”

We were half way to Dr. Franklin’s office when what had happened finally dawned on me. I started to shake as my body went through the drop in adrenaline. Mullin was the one that noticed, as he wasn’t driving.

“Morgan are you ok?” his voice was full of concern.

“No!” I all but shouted. “I just shot someone!” Tears started to stream down my face. “I was just shot at!” Mullin reached back and placed his hand on my knee.

“Your emotions are normal. There is a reason why any officer that has shot at someone or other wise involved in a shooting has to see the psychiatrist. Well, I’m taking you to see yours. Morgan, when the investigation is done, you acted in self defense. If you hadn’t done what you did, I’m pretty sure that you and Detective Cassingham would have your toes tagged down in the morgue. You did what you had to do.” We pulled up out side Dr. Franklin’s office. Katie and Jen were waiting on me. Mullin’s door was open before the car came to a complete stop. Katie and Jen rushed the car and Officer Mullin held his hand up and both of them stopped. He opened my door as Chang came around.

“What’s wrong with Morgan?” I heard Jen ask.

“Do you think you can walk, or do I need to carry you again?” Mullin asked me. I just looked at him, and he understood, leaning into the car. I wrapped my arms around Officer Mullin’s neck and he slid me out of the back seat, and picked me up. This action, of course, caused more concern from my girlfriend and sister. Jennifer opened the front door to the building and the five of us all walked in toward the elevator. Katie pushed the button and the elevator dinged. It hadn’t moved since they had come downstairs. We boarded the elevator and Katie hit the button to take us up to the third floor. Officer Mullin carried me all the way to Dr. Franklin’s office, gently sitting me on the couch. Dr. Franklin had dropped the papers that were in her hand on her desk when she had seen Mullin come through the door to her office.

“What happened to her?” Dr. Franklin asked after seeing my condition.

“She had to shoot at Carl Paskly. He was shooting at her, and Miranda handed Morgan her firearm and Morgan had to fire. She got one round into his right arm, and then we swarmed the scene. The realization of what had happened finally hit her. Julie, you are the best person to help her.”

“I know. Everyone out. Officer, get Morgan’s mom here, now.” Dr. Franklin said. Jen already had her phone out and was dialing as she backed out of the office. Dr. Franklin took my hands in hers I looked up into her face. “Morgan, tell me what happened.”

“He was chasing us and I had to shoot at him.” Dr. Franklin looked at me. “Miranda said I could, she said it was us or him. Frankly, I’m not ready to die…”

“You are much to young to go through what you did today. It’s my job to help you pick up the pieces.” Was her reply.

“I think I made him mad when I fired three bullets at his radiator, I missed with the two I fired at him, but that probably just made him mad. He fired off an entire magazine between the time I fired into his radiator and I put the round in his arm. I wasn’t trying to kill him, although I probably could have if it came down to it.” There was a knock on the door. Dr Franklin opened the door and Chang was standing on the other side.

“Sorry, Doctor, but I need a written statement from Morgan.” I turned my head to look at him.

“It’s ok, Morgan. Just write down what you told me.” Dr. Franklin said. I nodded, and took the paper and pen that he was offering. I looked at the paper and couldn’t get my hand to start writing, I was still shaking. Dr. Franklin looked at me and then at Chang. “Can I write it for her?”

“Yeah. Make sure that you note that you filled the form out at the bottom, and you both will need to sign it.” And with that, he left again. Dr. Franklin began filling out the statement form that Chang had left. She was done with the parts of it that she didn’t need my dictation to fill out relatively quickly.

“Julie, I’m not in trouble am I?” I asked. She glanced up at me.

“I think that if you were, we’d be doing this at police headquarters, not here…” She replied with a reassuring smile. “Tell me what happened starting from the time that you left the school until the time that Mullin pulled you from the suburban.” I started at the beginning and worked my way to the end. When Dr. Franklin handed me the form to sign there was a knock on the door. When Dr. Franklin opened the door this time, it was mom. She rushed in and gave me a hug.
“Are you ok?” she asked. I looked at her.

“Mentally or physically?” I responded. Mom looked from me to Dr. Franklin.

“Physically, she’s fine. Mentally, the entire ordeal has probably caused some trauma that will take some time to completely diagnose.” Dr. Franklin said to mom. She turned her attention back to me. “Lets put you back in a skirt. I think that will help you, it’s been therapeutic in the past, no reason why it wouldn’t be now…”