A violent and deadly shootout results in the deaths of 5 people, and injures 1 other.
What began as a quiet and somewhat boring night for police, suddenly turns into a bloodfest around 3:00a.m.when I decide to make a routine (if there is such a thing) motor vehicle stop on a highway. Two white and two black males occupy the suspect vehicle, an older model orange Trans Am. The right taillight that is out is the reason that I initiate the stop.
In my mind what I am planning is a drug interdiction stop, which means that I should call for backup and the second officer and I will question the occupants regarding their comings and goings, their purpose for being out at such an hour, and their intentions. We will then see if their stories match each other’s, or whether 1 of more of the occupants has a somewhat different story, thus beginning to build our probable cause to search the vehicle and their persons.
I suspect drugs because the car is a dented and scraped up piece of junk that obviously isn’t being taken care of properly, it is unfamiliar to me, possibly meaning that they are just passing through, and could have drugs or a large amount of cash in the vehicle. As noted above there are 4 males, they are all in their late 20s or early 30s, and it is around 3:00a.m. It is common knowledge among most drug-trained police officers that this is one of the formulas for drug activity.
I call for backup and am told that my coworker and friend, Officer Ken Green, is en route to my location. My training and experience tells me that there is a likelihood of guns being in the vehicle, so I follow the vehicle for a short distance before activating the emergency lights in order to give Ken a little more time to get to me. As I go along, I am updating my location to dispatch.
Upon activating the lights, the vehicle does not immediately pull over and stop, telling me that the operator is deciding whether to stop or to try and make a run, or that he does not see me. If he does not see me, why can’t he? In the nighttime, the blue lights can cause strobe-like illuminations in the sky all around you. Therefore he should see me without any problem.
After a short distance he pulls over using his turn signal, and stops. By this time I have already run the plate and found out that the vehicle is from a city about an hour and a half away, a city that is known for illegal drug activity.
I get out and start to approach the vehicle when suddenly the hair on the back of my neck rises, I can feel my pulse quicken as every once of police intuition in me tells me that this is going to turn to shit in a hurry. I immediately draw my gun as I retreat to my cruiser to await Ken’s arrival. I call Ken and tell him, and as I speak he arrives, pulling up behind me. As we get out of our cars, so do the front seat passengers of the Trans Am.
They begin shooting at us, and as we take cover and begin returning fire, the occupants of the Trans Am’s rear seat get out and join in the firefight. All the suspects are armed with unknown types of handguns. We are armed with our service issue Glock pistols. There is a shotgun in my cruiser and a .223 caliber rifle in Ken’s, if only we can get to them.
The whole incident lasts about 2-3 minutes, but seems more like 10 minutes. The gunshots sound like cannons in the still of the early morning air. As the shooting continues, Ken kills one of the suspects. Moments later, I take a round in my left shoulder, continue firing and kill the assailant, leaving 2 of them and two of us. I make a run for the passenger side door of my cruiser to get the shotgun. Both suspects then turn their guns on Ken. As he fires back, he is hit multiple times, and falls to the ground.
I begin rapidly firing the semiautomatic shotgun and knock one of the suspects off his feet. With the final 2 shots that are left in the shotgun I hit and kill the last suspect. The wounded assailant dies as I attend to Ken, only to find that he is dead. Some of the bullets had passed through Ken’s threat level III vest. At the time I had not known that the assailants had been using Teflon-coated, armor piercing bullets.
As I stand over Ken’s bloody body, I awaken in a cold sweat. My heart is racing and I look around and realize that I was having a dream, although the events in it had seemed so real.
I have been having this same dream over and over again for several years now, but not during the last several months.
Does having a dream once differ from recurring dreams?



