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distance in the few seconds that had
passed and was still barreling full tilt up the inclined parking
lot. Well beyond him, near the opposite corner, I could see an
intense struggle going on between a young blonde woman and an
individual who was bear hugging her from behind. They were
positioned near the back of a vehicle that was parked in the
traffic lane with the trunk lid and driver-side door wide open.
    They spun in a circle as the attacker slammed
the woman against the side of the car, slipping slightly out of
view, so I bobbed and shifted to see around the support pylons. The
aggressor in the altercation was nondescript enough to defy
identification, but based on stature and what few details I could
make out, such as hair length, I assumed the person to at least be
male.
    They made a half-spin outward then back,
bouncing against the rear quarter of the sedan. As they turned, I
caught a quick glimpse of the woman’s face. For some reason, she
looked familiar to me, but at this distance that didn’t really mean
anything.
    “Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your
emergency?” the woman at the other end repeated, capturing my
attention.
    “I’m… I’m not sure,” I stuttered and then
began spilling the information as quickly as I could. “I’m calling
for Detective Benjamin Storm with the city homicide division. He
said to tell you ‘officer needs assistance, code 1’.”
    “What is your location, sir?”
    The old adage about not being able to look
away from a train wreck passed through my mind as I continued
staring, frozen in place and mesmerized by the crime playing out in
front of me. I forced myself to quickly shift my glance to my
friend, checking his progress, and then leveled my gaze back on the
fight.
    Due to the design of the structure, a low
wall and cable barrier separated Ben from them. He was still
running up the incline and would need to hook around the end before
he would be within close enough proximity to confront the
situation. He still had several feet to go before he could even
make that turn.
    My mind raced as I wondered whether or not we
should have come at this from the next level up, but it was too
late for that now.
    “Sir, your location?” the voice barked from
the phone.
    “I’m sorry… The old Peerless-Cross department
store parking garage, orange level,” I replied.
    “Is the detective injured?” she asked.
    “No. He’s trying to stop a carjacking, or a
mugging or something, I’m not…”
    I was interrupted by yet another scream that
sounded vaguely like ‘help’, and I watched as the young woman broke
partially free and suddenly lurched forward. Her attacker managed
to maintain a grip on her arm and yanked it hard, knocking her off
balance. She fell backward against the car, and as she came to rest
against the fender, the man swung around in front of her. Without
hesitation, he drew his arm back and landed a fist square into the
young woman’s face. Her head snapped back, and even at this
distance, I could see crimson blood running from her nose.
    “Damn!” I exclaimed and then remembering that
the phone was still to my ear added, “He just hit her in the
face!”
    He drew back and hit her a second time then
grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the back of the vehicle.
In a rough motion he rolled her into the trunk then slammed the lid
shut and raced back to the open driver-side door.
    “Sir, can you tell me what is happening?” the
operator asked.
    The audible thunk was still fading as Ben’s
authoritative voice boomed outward, ricocheting from the angular
surfaces of the garage. “POLICE! STEP AWAY FROM THE VEHICLE NOW!”
He was just reaching the corner and beginning to make the turn as
he shouted, running with his weapon hand extended and trying to
draw a bead on the man next to the vehicle.
    “Sir, are you still there?”
    “Gods! I think it’s a kidnapping!” I
exclaimed aloud, making the statement to myself as much as to the
9-1-1