Today a deputy from the Podunk County Sheriff's Office, whose jurisdiction rubs up against Devil's Island, made a traffic stop on a motorcyclist whose ride turned out to be stolen. When he went to make the arrest, the suspect fought with him, broke loose and ran into the surrounding swamp. The sheriffs sent a call to our dispatchers, since the PCSO is laughably understaffed, and we were likely to be the closest units to assist. We set up a perimeter and sent in K9, but weren't able to find the guy. K9 did manage to find his helmet, which will hopefully yield some prints. Personally, I hope a gator ate him.
Anyway, when the call went out ("officer in fight, needs assistance") I was eating my lunch, in a parking lot clear way the hell on the opposite side of the patrol area. After a quick check of my map to ensure I could find the flyspeck streets the dispatcher had given me (which turned out to be wrong anyway) I roared out with lights and sirens blaring, and whizzed in, around, and through busy midday traffic, though I was responsible and never went more than slightly over 100 mph at any given time.
I bring this up, to say this: if you ever find yourself tooling along a semirural two-lane undivided highway in your blue early-model minivan, with heavy oncoming traffic in the other lane, and a police car should come up behind you at a high speed with its lights flashing, and its siren screaming, and its air horn blasting, and you're not immediately sure what to do...DO NOT SLOW YOUR FUCKING VEHICLE TO 10 FUCKING MILES AN HOUR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING LANE WHILE YOU MULL IT OVER.