A captain that I knew tells me the story and jokingly says, “Make sure this guy doesn’t die.” I even smiled, a little bit, good-natured gallows humor. It turns out four hours later we shoot this guy to death in the hallway. The captain who was by then off duty called me up and apologized.

In his apartment the guy had his eighty year old father at gunpoint. Our tactics and response unit drilled a hole from the apartment above and put down a little filament which is a television camera, a little wire hanging down over his refrigerator.

This guy wanted cigarettes.

We could see him standing at the door with the gun. We said no. This is a bad guy. As a tactic we cut off communications.

He wants to talk to us now. He threatens, “If youse don’t talk to me I’m going to set the house on fire.”

You’ve got a building with forty families in it, and he’s on the first floor. We call in the fire department stand ting by, all lined up in the streets with their hoses.

The guy does in fact start a fire. It’s starting to go good in there, but you can’t run in because he’s got a gun.

All of a sudden the smoke starts to get real heavy. Through the smoke we see he’s got his father in front of him, this eighty year old man. He’s pushing him forward. One cop grabs the father and pulls him out of the smoke.

There’re two guys with rifles in the hallway. They shoot this guy on the spot. He goes down. Every body gives him quick CPR. You don’t want him to die. We put him on a stretcher ran him out past the firemen.

They say, “What happened to him?”

One of the cops says, “We shot him.”

“For starting a fire?” He didn’t know what was going on in the hallway.

I get a call. There was a problem at his house. He was inside, wouldn’t come out, had been drinking, and obviously has multiple firearms. I know this guy has a high potential for violence. I call in the response team, but I want him to trust me. They agree that the bulk of the tactical team will be in a parking lot a couple blocks away.

So I have the flak vest on and am walking up to his door, thinking to myself, He’s going to shoot me. I was thinking about the time I was married, about my family, my parents, my friends. I was thinking, I can’t believe that I just can’t turn around and go back. I’m going to get shot.

I get up to the door, swallow, turn around and wave to these guys. I knock on the door.

He opens. My heart is pounding. He opens the door and looks totally normal.

“Scott, I’m glad to see you. You’ve got to help me. Come on in.”

Ha. Meanwhile I’ve got my vest on.

He immediately see that and goes, “God, you know, I’m really sorry that you thought I was going to hurt you.”

“Well, you know George, with your temper.” I’m laughing, probably manic, silly at this point.

He’s huge with two sons bigger than he is, college football linemen, who would get in brawls in the front yard.