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let him move one arm to the small of his back. But only one.
    On the opposite side of the dash cam, out of clear view, one of the policemen pressed his boot on the still-free wrist, pinning it to the pavement. Again, a perverse moan of agony sounded through the neighborhood.
    At this point, the girl passenger interrupted the carefully orchestrated blue-payback. Hearing her boyfriend’s moans and screams, the terrified Manny gathered herself and exited the car. She was, after all, parked in front of her own home.
    Her only thought was to reach the comfort of her parents and the security of her childhood home. With the riot-like backdrop of sound, she didn’t hear the officer who ordered her to stop, instead moving in a hurried rush across the yard. The cop pursued.
    Manny’s parents had been drawn by the sirens and sea of flashing blue lights in front of their home. Her father, peeking through the living room blinds, recognized Jacob’s new car just as it had stopped out front.
    Chip liked Jacob, finding the kid respectful and honest. Given the parade of young boys that had sought Manny’s company over the years, the keen-eyed father had considered the young Master Chase as one of the top-tier candidates for his daughter’s long-term affections.
    Seeing an opportunity to exercise his often ill-timed sense of humor, Chip had snatched up his cell phone, thinking to record Jacob’s first traffic ticket and leverage the embarrassing event for future, good-natured harassment. The threat of social annihilation could be a powerful tool, should the need ever arise.
    After less than a minute of recording, Chip knew something was horribly wrong.
    The anxious father dashed through the front door and darted for the street just as the armada of police cars rolled up. Like the paralyzed teens in the car, Chip froze in the middle of his driveway, cell still recording the drama a short distance away.
    When he spied Manny exiting the car, he moved to rescue his clearly frightened girl. They embraced just as the pursuing officer caught up with her.
    Yanking her forcefully from the hug, the cop began shouting orders for her to return to the car. All along, the police in the street continued to roar at Jacob while the youth was subjected to a catalog of painful restraining techniques.
    Realizing things were completely out of control, Chip refocused on the video recording, now carefully aiming his smartphone, moving here and there for a better vantage while his daughter was being pushed back toward the Honda.
    He continued recording, Jacob’s disturbing howls of agony combining with Manny’s desperate cries for the police to stop abusing her boyfriend filling the air. Chip didn’t know what else to do, the aggressive, weapon-wielding cops making it clear his presence was unwelcome. Somehow, his phone remained focused on the action in the street.
    After both of his arms were finally allowed to the small of his back, Jacob prayed the worst was over. His head and left side were throbbing with knife-like pains, his forehead bleeding so profusely he couldn't open one eye due to the sticky crimson rolling down his face.
    But the cops weren’t done.
    With his wrists finally handcuffed, one of the more sadistic officers decided to show off for the shift commander. Raising the boy’s bound arms into the air, Jacob felt like his limbs were being detached from his shoulders. Involuntary body defenses took over, the lad lifting his hips to reduce the angle and torque being applied to his limbs.
    A renewed chorus of commands emerged from the huddle, one officer stepping away so the dash cam could capture the suspect’s hips coming off the pavement. This time, rather than push down, one of the junior cops grabbed Jacob’s ankle and applied what was known as a “hot foot.”
    The technique was simple enough in practice – lift and pull the suspect’s leg so it couldn’t be leveraged for resistance. The academy instructors had been very specific