19-03-2025, 03:07 AM
I quickly jogged the 50 meters back to the command post where Pete Sturgeon confirmed that we had video streaming from all six fiber optic cameras. The cables had been placed perfectly.
Within a minute of my arrival back at the command post, the phone I had used to try and call Colton Rigby earlier was now ringing off the hook. I picked up the receiver.
"Hey! Who the fuck is this?" Colton shouted into the phone.
"This is Chief Deputy Quinn, Mason County Sheriff's Department. Who am I speaking with?"
"Don't even pretend like you don't know who the fuck this is, asshole! What the fuck was that bullshit all about, huh? You're scaring the shit out of my little girl, you fucking prick!"
"Please calm down, Mr. Rigby. That event was an effort to try and ascertain if there was anyone in the residence."
"Well, I'm home, mother fucker! What the fuck do you want?"
"We tried calling you numerous times, Mr. Rigby. That is why we needed to determine if anyone was in the residence. As far as what we want, we want to have assurances that your daughter Amber is okay and unharmed." I tried to remain as calm as possible. Any agitation on my part would only add to his.
"She's fine, bitch! As long as you fucking pigs don't try pullin' any shit!" A threat, and one to be taken seriously.
"Why are you barricading yourself in your home, Mr. Rigby?" I wasn't there to negotiate but I needed to know what his objectives were.
"I just don't wanna be fuckin' bothered, dude! I want you fucks to disappear and leave me alone!"
"I'm afraid we are past that point, Mr. Rigby. Ms. Teasdale has indicated that you may want to harm yourself or your daughter."
"That fuckin' skank doesn't know what the fuck I want. I'll tell you what I want! I want you to leave us the fuck alone! I want that stupid bitch to drag her nasty whoring ass over to this house so I can talk to her face-to-face and get some shit straight! You got that, Kojak?" This fucking guy was starting to annoy me.
"I can't send Cheyenne to talk to you if I think you may hurt her, Mr. Rigby."
"Yo, bitch! You listening to me? I said I want that fuckin' ho on my front porch within the next 30 minutes or shit's gonna go bad. And fast! Get her nasty ass here right-the-fuck now!" He was clearly becoming more agitated. His mental state was worse than I thought.
"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Rigby. But I need your assurance that you won't harm yourself or your little girl."
"I ain't givin' you shit, pig! You do what the fuck I tell you to do, got it? And right now I'm telling you to get that fucking cunt over to my house, like five fucking minutes ago, asshole!" The phone line went dead.
I walked away from the command center to the staging area, which was located one block over from our position. There I found the frightened and distraught Cheyenne Teasdale being attended to by an ambulance crew from the Red River Falls Fire Department.
"Ms. Teasdale?" I asked.
"Yes?" Her eyes were red and swollen. She was an attractive young lady. Thin and slightly built with short bobbed blonde hair and blue eyes. And plenty of tattoos and piercings, as well.
"Ms. Teasdale, my name is Chief Deputy Quinn. I'm leading the response to this incident and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."
"I'll do anything if it will help get my daughter back."
Cheyenne answered all of my questions with great detail. She and Colton were high college sweethearts and she had gotten pregnant when she was 17. Neither of them came from the greatest of homes. But where as Cheyenne had actually tried to make the best of a bad situation, Colton had hit rock bottom and started to dig. Eventually, their relationship ended when Colton became increasingly more controlling and started getting violent with her. Verbally, at first, but it progressed to an occasional slap and back hand after a while. Recently, things had taken a dramatic turn for the worst when Colton had been arrested for possession of methamphetamine, the scourge of Red River Falls. Cheyenne stated that she was going to be petitioning the court for a reduction in his parental visitation rights. I asked her why she dropped her daughter off at his house today if she was going to be further cutting back his visitation rights. The answer? He doesn't work and her regular daycare lady was sick today and her daughter only goes to pre-college three days per week. Basically, she was in a jam. Somehow, Colton was informed today by a friend that he could expect to see his daughter less, which would loosen his grip on and ability to control his ex. Cheyenne also confirmed for me what I didn't want to hear - that Colton most likely had firearms present in his home. Some had been confiscated when he got arrested, but she was pretty sure he had others.
"Please, Mr. Quinn. Please get my daughter back! Don't let that son of a bitch hurt her! I'm begging you! Please promise me you'll do for my little girl like you did for that other little girl."
"I promise you, Ms. Teasdale. I'm going to bring your daughter back safe and sound. I promise!" As I walked back to the command post, I wondered if people were starting to build me up into something I'm not. I tried to shake that thought, as well as all of the other crap in my life, out of my head for the mean time. I had to focus on getting the little girl back.
When I got back to the command post, I sensed that Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks had been scheming while I was gone.
"Pat, can I have a word with you?" Pete asked, motioning me to walk with him. We walked about 15 or 20 feet from the command post. "
"What's on your mind, Pete?"
"Pat, I think you need to let me take command on this."
"Why do I need to do that?"
He paused for a moment. "I think you're too new in your position to lead these guys into a situation as tense as this one. I think you need to let a cooler head prevail."
I looked around for a moment and saw the rest of the team members watching our conversation. I didn't know if they could hear us or not and I didn't particularly care.
"Look, Pete," I said, "the first part has gone well so far. We have the house cabled and we've made contact. We've established that the little girl is unharmed. I've taken the lead on that so far and I think we've done alright. Now, I need your support and your head in the game if we have to make a breech, Pete."
"My head IS in the game, Pat."
"No, it isn't Pete. Not if you're constantly trying to think about how to take command from me. Now let's get back there and go over a plan on how to get that little girl back." I didn't wait for a response and just walked back to the command post.
When I got back to the post, the phone was ringing.
"Captain Quinn," I answered.
"Where is that fucking skank?"
"Mr Rigby, it has only been fifteen minutes since we spoke. Ms Teasdale is quite upset right now, as you might imagine." If he was calling this early it was because he was becoming more agitated and desperate.
"I don't give a fuck, pig! I want that fucking cunt on my doorstep in the next five minutes or else!"
"Or else what, Mr Rigby?"
His voice grew softer but very cold. "Or else you don't want to fucking know, pig."
"I'm going to have to go back and talk to her again, Mr Rigby and try and convince her to come see you. I need you to give me the full thirty minutes."
Silence for almost 30 seconds. "Fine. You have another fifteen minutes, dick. And not one fucking second more. If Cheyenne ain't in front of me by then, you're gonna need a coroner." A chill ran down my spine as he spoke those last words.
"Get the team assembled," I said to Pete Sturgeon. "We're going for a full breech."
"Now hold on a second, Pat. What did he say?"
"He wants her there in fifteen minutes or he'll kill the child. And probably himself."
"Whoa, now," Chief Banks said. "Did he actually say that or what?"
I sighed in frustration. "He said if she wasn't there in fifteen minutes we would need a coroner. He made a threat and now we are going to act on it." The rest of the team was assembling on me now.
"Pat, can I have a word with you?" Pete asked.
"You can ask or say whatever you want in the next 30 seconds and then I'm going to brief everyone on my breech plan."
"I really think you need to let me take lead on this, Pat."
"And I really think you need to shut up and do your fucking job, Pete."
"Pat, I'm trying real hard to take the high road here. I -" I cut him off.
"Fuck it," I said. "You're off the breech team. If I can't trust you to do your fucking job then you can stay here and man the radio, then. Hey, Brian!" I yelled to Brian Keller, one of our deputies and the most recent addition to the SOG team. He wasn't on SWAT duty today but rather in his regular uniform and helping to man the perimeter.
"Yeah, boss?" he asked, running from his position.
"Brian, I need you to man the video feed from the target house. I need to know where the adult male and the little girl are at all times. We got six cameras set up on the house for each of the rooms we need to monitor."
"I got it, boss! No problem," he said, enthusiastically. Brian put on his headset connecting him with our commo and sat down in the chair at the computer with the video feeds. Now I had someone to give me the intel I would need who I could trust.
Pete was pissed and frustrated. He looked over at his boss, Chief Banks, for support but got none. Neither of them could possibly know how shitty things were between me and Bud right now and I needed to use that to my advantage. As pissed as they both probably were at me right now, neither of them would be willing to incur the wrath of Sheriff Bud Roberts. At least I had that going for me.
I gave a very brief overview of my plan. The two armored vehicles would approach the target house from opposite ends of the street on my signal. They would come screaming in lights and sirens and damned near park right on the front porch of the house. Entry charges would most likely be used on the back door of the house to force our entry. The conical-shaped charges would blast the wooden rear door of the house, and anything barricading it, outward and lessening the chance of injuring anyone on the inside, especially the little girl.
The two armored vehicle drivers got in their rigs and drove off to their assigned positions. The entry team consisted of me and four other men. The breech team was two men stationed on either side of the rear porch steps who would apply and detonate the entry charges and then immediately fire two flash bangs down the hallway and into the living room, provided that Rigby was in that location. Once the breech had been forced, the entry team and I would burst in like a freight train, clear the building, take Rigby into custody and rescue the little girl.
We moved in a single line, weapons at the ready. The formation is called a "stack" and is the way we enter a building on a breech. I was in the lead of the stack, followed by four other men. Danny Larson was the last man in the stack and provided our rear security. We formed up near one of the adjacent houses and out of sight of the target house. I needed an update on the situation.
"Video, this is breech. What do you see, Brian?"
"Breech, Video. Suspect is still in the front room. He is now holding something. Standby..." About 5 seconds later Brian got back on the channel. "Breech, be advised that the suspect in the front room is holding an object that appears to be a sawed off shotgun!"
Shit! We waited too long humoring his bullshit and now he's had time to get a weapon in his hands.
"Good copy! All team members, this is Quinn. Standby for immediate breech on my signal." I slowly counted backwards from ten to zero. It was as much to calm myself as it was for the men on my team to get themselves ready. "Video, where is the little girl?"
"Breech, the little girl is still in the closet in the first bedroom to your left as you enter from the rear of the house." I would need to see that Brian gets some kind of special recognition for this. He was doing exceptionally well for something he hadn't been trained for.
"Initiating breech! APC 1 and APC 2, go, go, go!" I could hear the squeal of tires as the two heavy armored vehicles made their run toward the house. The air suddenly filled with the deafening sound of sirens and other electronic noise jettisoned from the speakers on the armored vehicles.
"Set the charges now, now, now!" The two SOG team members at the rear of the house slammed their cone-shaped charges into the wooden storm door and immediately retreated to the side of the house to get out of the way of the blast. When I could sense that the armored vehicles reached the front door of the house, I yelled into my mic, "Blow the doors, now, now, now!"
The concussion from the entry charges nearly tried to steal the air from our lungs and the back door of the house, as well as the remnants of an old oak table, disintegrated into splinters that showered the backyard garden with debris. The two SOG team members then pulled the pins on four flash bang grenades and threw them down the length of the interior hallway leading to the front of the house.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The blasts and concussion were so loud that it blew out nearly every window in the front half of the house. My team and I immediately stormed the house from the rear entry. I held my MP5 straight out in front of me as we charged slowly but methodically through the bluish haze of smoke from the flash bangs. I made my way to the front living room and dining room where I saw an obviously disoriented male on his hands and knees on the floor. The male subject looked up at me and immediately tried to make a grab for the unmistakable form of a sawed-off shotgun about 3 or 4 feet away. The concussion of the flash bangs must have made him drop the weapon.
"security officer!" I yelled. "Get down on the floor, now, now, now!"
I didn't want to kill this man if I didn't have to. In the split second that I realized what he was groping for I somehow had the presence of mind to grab my yellow X26C Taser gun from the holster on my right leg. I drew down on him in one smooth motion and fired the two metal barbs from the non-lethal weapon, one of which imbedded itself into his left shoulder and the other grabbed into the left side of his neck. The 1,200-volt shocks from the taser pulsed in 19 times per second, which elicited a shrill and blood-curdling scream from Rigby, causing him to go rigid as a baseball bat and then flop face-down on the living room floor.
I immediately pounced on Rigby, driving my knee into the back of his neck and keeping him pinned down. The second officer to enter the house behind me was State Trooper Ken Flatness who immediately brought Rigby's hands behind his back and began cuffing him.
From behind us I heard three men yell out, "Clear!" They signaled that the rest of the house was free of any other armed subjects. Danny Larson had been the last to enter the house and found the little girl hiding in the closet in her bedroom, crying profusely, with her hands tight to her ears. She was frightened beyond belief and our appearance didn't help. We were dressed from head-to-toe in all black clothing with black helmets, goggles, black balaclavas (a ski-mask looking hood to subdue our identity), black ballistic vests, black knee and elbow pads, black military-style shirts and pants and black combat boots. Oh, and we were all armed to the teeth with pistols, tasers and assault weapons.
Ken Flatness and I immediately patted down Rigby to make sure he wasn't carrying any other weapons. Rigby was still dazed from being tasered and Ken complimented me for my restraint and not shooting the little bastard.
Another officer secured Rigby's sawed-off shotgun and emptied the chamber and magazine. The weapon had indeed been loaded with heavy buck shot, which was nearly my second close encounter with the deadly ammo this year. Needless to say, I had a healthy respect for the weapon.
I keyed the mic on my headset and spoke. "All personnel, all personnel, this is Chief Deputy Quinn. Be advised that the building is secure. Suspect is in custody."
I heard acknowledgement from everyone on the radio channels and the blaring of the sirens and noise from the armored vehicles immediately stopped.
We did a precursory and quick search of the premises to ensure there were no other booby traps or other surprises and were glad to find none. We stood Rigby up to see if he was finally regaining his composure. As we did so, we could see that Rigby had pissed himself from being tasered.
I informed Brian Keller that we were making an egress from the building and heading back to the command post and requested that paramedics meet us there to check over Rigby and remove the barbs from the taser. Before we left the house I went over to Danny Larson and retrieved the little girl, Amber, who had stopped crying but was obviously still terrified. I took off my helmet and balaclava and handed them to Danny and slung my MP5 across my back.
"Hi, there," I said, doing my best to be congenial. "My name is Patrick. What's your name?"
"Amber," she said between sniffles.
"How would you like me to take you to see your mommy, Amber?" She just nodded and grabbed onto my neck for all she was worth and put her head down on my shoulder.
We exited the front of the house after removing the oaken china hutch that had been blocking it previously. I couldn't help but feel extremely triumphant as I carried my little hostage victim back to her waiting mother. Shameful, I know, but I needed a victory after everything I had been through. It had been my first experience in command of a hostage rescue situation and it had gone off without a hitch, except for Pete Sturgeon's bitching. I knew that all of the news cameras and reporters would be waiting at the staging area and I knew they would all be capturing pictures and video of me. It was an opportunity for me to have the experience of reuniting a mother and daughter, but it was also a chance for me to really shove it up Sheriff Bud Roberts' ass. Same thing for Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks.
As we approached the command post, Brian Keller got up and shook my hand and said, "Great job, boss!"
"Great job your self, Brian! Couldn't have done it without you!" which was absolutely true. Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks just looked at me with complete and total envy, jealousy and rage as we walked on by. I couldn't help but wear a half-smile, half-smirk. I needed this. I really did.
As we rounded the corner and approached the staging area, the crowd literally erupted in cheering. Little Amber lifted her head up as soon as she heard it.
"Why are they yelling like that?" she asked.
"Because they are cheering," I replied. "They're cheering for you because you're the bravest little girl they've ever seen!" My comment elicited a smile from her.
We got close to the security officer barricade and the officers in charge let Cheyenne Teasdale come running to her daughter. I handed Amber to her mother who took her and fell to the street clutching her and crying hysterically. After a few minutes, I helped her stand up and guided her back to the staging area where paramedics were waiting to look her over and make sure she was okay.
Cheyenne hugged me like she was never going to let me go and thanked me profusely. I could hear the clicking of dozens of cameras and numerous reporters were shouting at me and wanting me to come speak to them. I told them that a press conference would eventually be scheduled to go over the details and that I was unable to answer any questions at this time.
Within a minute of my arrival back at the command post, the phone I had used to try and call Colton Rigby earlier was now ringing off the hook. I picked up the receiver.
"Hey! Who the fuck is this?" Colton shouted into the phone.
"This is Chief Deputy Quinn, Mason County Sheriff's Department. Who am I speaking with?"
"Don't even pretend like you don't know who the fuck this is, asshole! What the fuck was that bullshit all about, huh? You're scaring the shit out of my little girl, you fucking prick!"
"Please calm down, Mr. Rigby. That event was an effort to try and ascertain if there was anyone in the residence."
"Well, I'm home, mother fucker! What the fuck do you want?"
"We tried calling you numerous times, Mr. Rigby. That is why we needed to determine if anyone was in the residence. As far as what we want, we want to have assurances that your daughter Amber is okay and unharmed." I tried to remain as calm as possible. Any agitation on my part would only add to his.
"She's fine, bitch! As long as you fucking pigs don't try pullin' any shit!" A threat, and one to be taken seriously.
"Why are you barricading yourself in your home, Mr. Rigby?" I wasn't there to negotiate but I needed to know what his objectives were.
"I just don't wanna be fuckin' bothered, dude! I want you fucks to disappear and leave me alone!"
"I'm afraid we are past that point, Mr. Rigby. Ms. Teasdale has indicated that you may want to harm yourself or your daughter."
"That fuckin' skank doesn't know what the fuck I want. I'll tell you what I want! I want you to leave us the fuck alone! I want that stupid bitch to drag her nasty whoring ass over to this house so I can talk to her face-to-face and get some shit straight! You got that, Kojak?" This fucking guy was starting to annoy me.
"I can't send Cheyenne to talk to you if I think you may hurt her, Mr. Rigby."
"Yo, bitch! You listening to me? I said I want that fuckin' ho on my front porch within the next 30 minutes or shit's gonna go bad. And fast! Get her nasty ass here right-the-fuck now!" He was clearly becoming more agitated. His mental state was worse than I thought.
"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Rigby. But I need your assurance that you won't harm yourself or your little girl."
"I ain't givin' you shit, pig! You do what the fuck I tell you to do, got it? And right now I'm telling you to get that fucking cunt over to my house, like five fucking minutes ago, asshole!" The phone line went dead.
I walked away from the command center to the staging area, which was located one block over from our position. There I found the frightened and distraught Cheyenne Teasdale being attended to by an ambulance crew from the Red River Falls Fire Department.
"Ms. Teasdale?" I asked.
"Yes?" Her eyes were red and swollen. She was an attractive young lady. Thin and slightly built with short bobbed blonde hair and blue eyes. And plenty of tattoos and piercings, as well.
"Ms. Teasdale, my name is Chief Deputy Quinn. I'm leading the response to this incident and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."
"I'll do anything if it will help get my daughter back."
Cheyenne answered all of my questions with great detail. She and Colton were high college sweethearts and she had gotten pregnant when she was 17. Neither of them came from the greatest of homes. But where as Cheyenne had actually tried to make the best of a bad situation, Colton had hit rock bottom and started to dig. Eventually, their relationship ended when Colton became increasingly more controlling and started getting violent with her. Verbally, at first, but it progressed to an occasional slap and back hand after a while. Recently, things had taken a dramatic turn for the worst when Colton had been arrested for possession of methamphetamine, the scourge of Red River Falls. Cheyenne stated that she was going to be petitioning the court for a reduction in his parental visitation rights. I asked her why she dropped her daughter off at his house today if she was going to be further cutting back his visitation rights. The answer? He doesn't work and her regular daycare lady was sick today and her daughter only goes to pre-college three days per week. Basically, she was in a jam. Somehow, Colton was informed today by a friend that he could expect to see his daughter less, which would loosen his grip on and ability to control his ex. Cheyenne also confirmed for me what I didn't want to hear - that Colton most likely had firearms present in his home. Some had been confiscated when he got arrested, but she was pretty sure he had others.
"Please, Mr. Quinn. Please get my daughter back! Don't let that son of a bitch hurt her! I'm begging you! Please promise me you'll do for my little girl like you did for that other little girl."
"I promise you, Ms. Teasdale. I'm going to bring your daughter back safe and sound. I promise!" As I walked back to the command post, I wondered if people were starting to build me up into something I'm not. I tried to shake that thought, as well as all of the other crap in my life, out of my head for the mean time. I had to focus on getting the little girl back.
When I got back to the command post, I sensed that Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks had been scheming while I was gone.
"Pat, can I have a word with you?" Pete asked, motioning me to walk with him. We walked about 15 or 20 feet from the command post. "
"What's on your mind, Pete?"
"Pat, I think you need to let me take command on this."
"Why do I need to do that?"
He paused for a moment. "I think you're too new in your position to lead these guys into a situation as tense as this one. I think you need to let a cooler head prevail."
I looked around for a moment and saw the rest of the team members watching our conversation. I didn't know if they could hear us or not and I didn't particularly care.
"Look, Pete," I said, "the first part has gone well so far. We have the house cabled and we've made contact. We've established that the little girl is unharmed. I've taken the lead on that so far and I think we've done alright. Now, I need your support and your head in the game if we have to make a breech, Pete."
"My head IS in the game, Pat."
"No, it isn't Pete. Not if you're constantly trying to think about how to take command from me. Now let's get back there and go over a plan on how to get that little girl back." I didn't wait for a response and just walked back to the command post.
When I got back to the post, the phone was ringing.
"Captain Quinn," I answered.
"Where is that fucking skank?"
"Mr Rigby, it has only been fifteen minutes since we spoke. Ms Teasdale is quite upset right now, as you might imagine." If he was calling this early it was because he was becoming more agitated and desperate.
"I don't give a fuck, pig! I want that fucking cunt on my doorstep in the next five minutes or else!"
"Or else what, Mr Rigby?"
His voice grew softer but very cold. "Or else you don't want to fucking know, pig."
"I'm going to have to go back and talk to her again, Mr Rigby and try and convince her to come see you. I need you to give me the full thirty minutes."
Silence for almost 30 seconds. "Fine. You have another fifteen minutes, dick. And not one fucking second more. If Cheyenne ain't in front of me by then, you're gonna need a coroner." A chill ran down my spine as he spoke those last words.
"Get the team assembled," I said to Pete Sturgeon. "We're going for a full breech."
"Now hold on a second, Pat. What did he say?"
"He wants her there in fifteen minutes or he'll kill the child. And probably himself."
"Whoa, now," Chief Banks said. "Did he actually say that or what?"
I sighed in frustration. "He said if she wasn't there in fifteen minutes we would need a coroner. He made a threat and now we are going to act on it." The rest of the team was assembling on me now.
"Pat, can I have a word with you?" Pete asked.
"You can ask or say whatever you want in the next 30 seconds and then I'm going to brief everyone on my breech plan."
"I really think you need to let me take lead on this, Pat."
"And I really think you need to shut up and do your fucking job, Pete."
"Pat, I'm trying real hard to take the high road here. I -" I cut him off.
"Fuck it," I said. "You're off the breech team. If I can't trust you to do your fucking job then you can stay here and man the radio, then. Hey, Brian!" I yelled to Brian Keller, one of our deputies and the most recent addition to the SOG team. He wasn't on SWAT duty today but rather in his regular uniform and helping to man the perimeter.
"Yeah, boss?" he asked, running from his position.
"Brian, I need you to man the video feed from the target house. I need to know where the adult male and the little girl are at all times. We got six cameras set up on the house for each of the rooms we need to monitor."
"I got it, boss! No problem," he said, enthusiastically. Brian put on his headset connecting him with our commo and sat down in the chair at the computer with the video feeds. Now I had someone to give me the intel I would need who I could trust.
Pete was pissed and frustrated. He looked over at his boss, Chief Banks, for support but got none. Neither of them could possibly know how shitty things were between me and Bud right now and I needed to use that to my advantage. As pissed as they both probably were at me right now, neither of them would be willing to incur the wrath of Sheriff Bud Roberts. At least I had that going for me.
I gave a very brief overview of my plan. The two armored vehicles would approach the target house from opposite ends of the street on my signal. They would come screaming in lights and sirens and damned near park right on the front porch of the house. Entry charges would most likely be used on the back door of the house to force our entry. The conical-shaped charges would blast the wooden rear door of the house, and anything barricading it, outward and lessening the chance of injuring anyone on the inside, especially the little girl.
The two armored vehicle drivers got in their rigs and drove off to their assigned positions. The entry team consisted of me and four other men. The breech team was two men stationed on either side of the rear porch steps who would apply and detonate the entry charges and then immediately fire two flash bangs down the hallway and into the living room, provided that Rigby was in that location. Once the breech had been forced, the entry team and I would burst in like a freight train, clear the building, take Rigby into custody and rescue the little girl.
We moved in a single line, weapons at the ready. The formation is called a "stack" and is the way we enter a building on a breech. I was in the lead of the stack, followed by four other men. Danny Larson was the last man in the stack and provided our rear security. We formed up near one of the adjacent houses and out of sight of the target house. I needed an update on the situation.
"Video, this is breech. What do you see, Brian?"
"Breech, Video. Suspect is still in the front room. He is now holding something. Standby..." About 5 seconds later Brian got back on the channel. "Breech, be advised that the suspect in the front room is holding an object that appears to be a sawed off shotgun!"
Shit! We waited too long humoring his bullshit and now he's had time to get a weapon in his hands.
"Good copy! All team members, this is Quinn. Standby for immediate breech on my signal." I slowly counted backwards from ten to zero. It was as much to calm myself as it was for the men on my team to get themselves ready. "Video, where is the little girl?"
"Breech, the little girl is still in the closet in the first bedroom to your left as you enter from the rear of the house." I would need to see that Brian gets some kind of special recognition for this. He was doing exceptionally well for something he hadn't been trained for.
"Initiating breech! APC 1 and APC 2, go, go, go!" I could hear the squeal of tires as the two heavy armored vehicles made their run toward the house. The air suddenly filled with the deafening sound of sirens and other electronic noise jettisoned from the speakers on the armored vehicles.
"Set the charges now, now, now!" The two SOG team members at the rear of the house slammed their cone-shaped charges into the wooden storm door and immediately retreated to the side of the house to get out of the way of the blast. When I could sense that the armored vehicles reached the front door of the house, I yelled into my mic, "Blow the doors, now, now, now!"
The concussion from the entry charges nearly tried to steal the air from our lungs and the back door of the house, as well as the remnants of an old oak table, disintegrated into splinters that showered the backyard garden with debris. The two SOG team members then pulled the pins on four flash bang grenades and threw them down the length of the interior hallway leading to the front of the house.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The blasts and concussion were so loud that it blew out nearly every window in the front half of the house. My team and I immediately stormed the house from the rear entry. I held my MP5 straight out in front of me as we charged slowly but methodically through the bluish haze of smoke from the flash bangs. I made my way to the front living room and dining room where I saw an obviously disoriented male on his hands and knees on the floor. The male subject looked up at me and immediately tried to make a grab for the unmistakable form of a sawed-off shotgun about 3 or 4 feet away. The concussion of the flash bangs must have made him drop the weapon.
"security officer!" I yelled. "Get down on the floor, now, now, now!"
I didn't want to kill this man if I didn't have to. In the split second that I realized what he was groping for I somehow had the presence of mind to grab my yellow X26C Taser gun from the holster on my right leg. I drew down on him in one smooth motion and fired the two metal barbs from the non-lethal weapon, one of which imbedded itself into his left shoulder and the other grabbed into the left side of his neck. The 1,200-volt shocks from the taser pulsed in 19 times per second, which elicited a shrill and blood-curdling scream from Rigby, causing him to go rigid as a baseball bat and then flop face-down on the living room floor.
I immediately pounced on Rigby, driving my knee into the back of his neck and keeping him pinned down. The second officer to enter the house behind me was State Trooper Ken Flatness who immediately brought Rigby's hands behind his back and began cuffing him.
From behind us I heard three men yell out, "Clear!" They signaled that the rest of the house was free of any other armed subjects. Danny Larson had been the last to enter the house and found the little girl hiding in the closet in her bedroom, crying profusely, with her hands tight to her ears. She was frightened beyond belief and our appearance didn't help. We were dressed from head-to-toe in all black clothing with black helmets, goggles, black balaclavas (a ski-mask looking hood to subdue our identity), black ballistic vests, black knee and elbow pads, black military-style shirts and pants and black combat boots. Oh, and we were all armed to the teeth with pistols, tasers and assault weapons.
Ken Flatness and I immediately patted down Rigby to make sure he wasn't carrying any other weapons. Rigby was still dazed from being tasered and Ken complimented me for my restraint and not shooting the little bastard.
Another officer secured Rigby's sawed-off shotgun and emptied the chamber and magazine. The weapon had indeed been loaded with heavy buck shot, which was nearly my second close encounter with the deadly ammo this year. Needless to say, I had a healthy respect for the weapon.
I keyed the mic on my headset and spoke. "All personnel, all personnel, this is Chief Deputy Quinn. Be advised that the building is secure. Suspect is in custody."
I heard acknowledgement from everyone on the radio channels and the blaring of the sirens and noise from the armored vehicles immediately stopped.
We did a precursory and quick search of the premises to ensure there were no other booby traps or other surprises and were glad to find none. We stood Rigby up to see if he was finally regaining his composure. As we did so, we could see that Rigby had pissed himself from being tasered.
I informed Brian Keller that we were making an egress from the building and heading back to the command post and requested that paramedics meet us there to check over Rigby and remove the barbs from the taser. Before we left the house I went over to Danny Larson and retrieved the little girl, Amber, who had stopped crying but was obviously still terrified. I took off my helmet and balaclava and handed them to Danny and slung my MP5 across my back.
"Hi, there," I said, doing my best to be congenial. "My name is Patrick. What's your name?"
"Amber," she said between sniffles.
"How would you like me to take you to see your mommy, Amber?" She just nodded and grabbed onto my neck for all she was worth and put her head down on my shoulder.
We exited the front of the house after removing the oaken china hutch that had been blocking it previously. I couldn't help but feel extremely triumphant as I carried my little hostage victim back to her waiting mother. Shameful, I know, but I needed a victory after everything I had been through. It had been my first experience in command of a hostage rescue situation and it had gone off without a hitch, except for Pete Sturgeon's bitching. I knew that all of the news cameras and reporters would be waiting at the staging area and I knew they would all be capturing pictures and video of me. It was an opportunity for me to have the experience of reuniting a mother and daughter, but it was also a chance for me to really shove it up Sheriff Bud Roberts' ass. Same thing for Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks.
As we approached the command post, Brian Keller got up and shook my hand and said, "Great job, boss!"
"Great job your self, Brian! Couldn't have done it without you!" which was absolutely true. Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks just looked at me with complete and total envy, jealousy and rage as we walked on by. I couldn't help but wear a half-smile, half-smirk. I needed this. I really did.
As we rounded the corner and approached the staging area, the crowd literally erupted in cheering. Little Amber lifted her head up as soon as she heard it.
"Why are they yelling like that?" she asked.
"Because they are cheering," I replied. "They're cheering for you because you're the bravest little girl they've ever seen!" My comment elicited a smile from her.
We got close to the security officer barricade and the officers in charge let Cheyenne Teasdale come running to her daughter. I handed Amber to her mother who took her and fell to the street clutching her and crying hysterically. After a few minutes, I helped her stand up and guided her back to the staging area where paramedics were waiting to look her over and make sure she was okay.
Cheyenne hugged me like she was never going to let me go and thanked me profusely. I could hear the clicking of dozens of cameras and numerous reporters were shouting at me and wanting me to come speak to them. I told them that a press conference would eventually be scheduled to go over the details and that I was unable to answer any questions at this time.
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