How far they had come! An armed robbery in progress, a foot chase, and an attempted murder would have satisfied the average "blue suit." But to them, it was just another day at the office. How far they had come! Like an addict, they needed more action to satisfy their lust for adrenaline. They sought increased dosage to take them to the limit, which only yesterday required so little. This unquenchable thirst had the potential to consume them both.
Sergeant Jeff Andrews and his partner, Doug Keating, had taken it to the limit so often that they were emotionally immune to the chaos around them. On this chilly Los Angeles night, they paused for a moment of peace, as steaming cups of coffee warmed their hands and fortified them for the next challenge. These two men shared the daily confines of a police patrol car and knew each other better than they knew their own wives. They shared dreams, and sometimes expressed deep secrets, allowed only by their trust in each other. There they sat, talking softly in the darkened gas station with the ever-present chatter of the police radio in the background.
Jeff and his partner were both experiencing marital problems brought on by a job that overshadowed their families. Jeff was separated from his wife and two daughters, and a divorce was imminent. His partner, Doug, was trying to patch up his own marriage after he had a brief affair with a police dispatcher. They were great street cops, but that made them terrible husbands and poor fathers. They loved working the street and thought of it as a syphilitic whore that fulfilled them, but they knew it had the potential to destroy them.
Jeff and Doug were trying to solve each other's problems, when they couldn't even solve their own. They were well into their conversation when the monotone voice on the radio assigned a family disturbance call to the officers in unit 4-Boy-3. The dispatcher added that it was a repeat call handled by another unit earlier in the day. Jeff and his partner looked at each other and wondered if this call had the potential for another "fix." It sounded routine and they returned to their intimate talk and hot coffee. They were aware of the background radio voice announcing that the officers in 4-Boy-3 arrived at their call.
The quiet conversation was interrupted by 4-Boy-3 requesting assistance. Jeff knew they were about a mile from the call and told dispatch they would respond. With the coffee cup secure between his legs, Jeff pulled the police car into traffic and drove toward the call.
En route, the radio came alive with the excited voice of 4-Boy-3 asking for "Code-3 backup." Jeff and his partner threw their coffee out the window and advised dispatch that King-1 was responding!" Jeff flipped the switches that activated the emergency lights and siren. Traffic yielded, the engine strained, and King-1 was rolling for another fix.
Within a minute, King-1 arrived on the scene, parking sideways in the street. Jeff saw the officers of 4-Boy-3 standing in the street trying to get information from a hysterical woman. She was barefoot, her clothing was torn, and she was bleeding from a head wound. Jeff heard a male voice raging inside the house as the sound of breaking glass and furniture echoed through the neighborhood. Jeff aimed his car's spotlight towards the front of the darkened house while the officers in the street called for an ambulance and tended to the woman. Jeff and his partner began a cautious approach across the front lawn. They communicated with each other non-verbally, through body language, and a kind of telepathy they had developed through time.
In the light, Jeff saw the front door swing open so violently it crashed against the inner wall. A large man appeared in the doorway and paused. He had blood on his clothing and he was screaming incoherently. As he stood in the beam of light, the man resembled a horrible monster in a cheap movie.
Jeff and his partner increased their distance from each other as they formed an imaginary triangle on the man. Jeff shouted into his hand-held radio for dispatch to send more assistance. And then he saw it. The light from the spotlight was sending reflections off the large hunting knives the man clutched in each hand.
"Look out, he's got knives," Jeff shouted to his partner as the screaming man jumped off the porch and charged towards them.
Jeff and his partner were exhilarated by the thrill of another challenge. Deep down, they knew, it would not take them to the limit and would end far short . . . it usually did. And yet, their training braced them for the unexpected. Confidence flowed and they were ready — they were no longer simply partners — they became brothers.
The monster, with hatred on his face and death in his hands did not obey Jeff's orders to stop and drop the knives. The man responded by continuing his violent charge. Jeff's confidence faded with every rushing step taken by the man. Even though the 'brothers' craved to be taken to the limit, as the realization came that the limit was near, they retreated. The danger, more than either had experienced in awhile, was rapidly closing the distance. Reflections bounced off the raised knives causing Jeff's heart to pound and his breath quicken.
Jeff's partner, realizing he was in extreme danger, sped up his retreat, but was overtaken by the raging man. The pointed steel was raised and suddenly thrust forward. Jeff's partner tripped and went down on one knee as his arm attempted to ward off the sharpened steel. The steaming cups and intimate conversation were centuries away as the primitive instincts for survival took over.
Jeff's mind raced, "Oh God, what if I lose him? I love him! How did we get here — his wife — his kids — he could be me."
The retreat was sudden and clumsy before Jeff had the time to reach for his holstered pistol. Familiar grips were held and cold steel slid smoothly across leather and the gun was brought to a horizontal position.
"Hold it, hold it!" Jeff shouted.
He wondered, "Why doesn't he stop, they usually do? Oh please stop! Be careful brother!"
Time slowed and Jeff knew the limit was near.
Panic and confusion did not deter the trained thumb as it swiftly released the safety on the 45 automatic. Time dissolved into a dream-state as flame from Jeff's pistol erupted into the night. Nothing moved— the whole world stopped. Did he miss? Oh God, there was only one chance—Oh God make it good.
The madman became a statue, frozen in time, as Jeff's partner fell to the ground with his arms swinging wildly. The monster's look of rage changed to one of surprise. The madman dropped his knives and fell as red fluid spurted from a chest wound. The motion picture began to run again. There was a flurry of movement, almost too much for the senses. Jeff kicked the knives away to a safe distance and handcuffed the unconscious man. Jeff heard a woman screaming from the backseat of 4-Boy-3, but that was not where he focused. He looked intently at his partner, who remained motionless on the ground.
Jeff rushed to Doug, who began to move slowly. Jeff was elated when Doug got to his feet, uninjured. Jeff went to the handcuffed man and saw that his breathing had stopped and his eyes were dilated in a death stare. He was gone.
"King-1 to dispatch, advise the watch commander to send detectives, King-1 has been involved in a fatal shooting."
The sound of sirens filled the night and red lights sent strobe-like reflections on the surrounding houses. The street filled with black and white patrol cars. A helicopter hovered overhead with its intense light illuminating the scene. Jeff was aware of the woman's fading screams as an ambulance took her away. A large crowd gathered, as it usually did. Radios blared, engines roared, and orders were shouted.
In the midst of it all, the 'brothers' made eye contact . . . a knowing look with a faint smile. A thousand words were said, which only they perceived. They were in a realm temporarily removed from reality—a realm that is reached by two souls sharing the limit and returning again.
