Protect And Serve Don't Need A Hero (2011) - Plot & Excerpts
I smelled gasoline, blood, and of course smoke from the gunfire, but all I could hear was the hysterical cries of a little girl screaming for her mommy. I was terrified of what I might find, and already feeling guilty that we’d not checked more carefully for hostages. Yeah, like we have X-ray vision to see through vehicles and tinted luxury car windows. Right. I wrenched open the front passenger side door. The nearly headless corpse of the robbery suspect, a white or perhaps Hispanic male with the bank’s explosive dye still visible despite the carnage, sat in the driver’s seat atop a woman’s quiet form. The woman’s fingers twitched and clawed weakly at the bloody gray leather seat. She breathed, but shallowly, considering about 170 pounds of dead weight -- really dead weight -- covered her. I shoved at the perp’s body until it slid to the side and allowed the woman to breathe. From the sirens coming closer, the EMTs would see to her, but it looked like the perp’s chain mail and the teak dash had taken most of the bullets.
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