Grab Life by the Balls

The two teams of Deputies quickly moved down the hallway and through the double doors that led from the office and business areas of the surgical center and towards the operating rooms themselves. I returned my attention to the main screen.

"Alright, everyone. Let's proceed," Doctor Mullin ordered.

"Wait a minute!" the anesthetist shouted. "I haven't finished administering all of my meds yet. I still have to give him the Versed and Rocuronium and hang the Propofol drip. I still have to titrate him to the Propofol to make sure he tolerates it."

"Don't worry about all of that."

"But Doctor! If I don't, the patient will feel everything you're doing to him!"

"That's none of your business, Florence. He's had medical gas and succinylcholine. Years ago, ether was all they gave for anesthesia. The patient will be just fine."

"Doctor! My God! You can't make me do this!"

"Dammit, Florence! You will do what I tell you to do! Now get ready, everyone. We're starting the procedure. Nurse Kimmel, finish shaving him and bathe and sterilize the surgical site with povidone."

The surgical nurse stood there, looking back and forth between Doctor Mullin and the anesthetist.

"Angie!" Doctor Mullin snapped. "Did you hear what I said?"

She jumped and said, "Yes, doctor." She took a large forceps and grabbed a large wad of gauze sponges and dipped them into a bowl of povidone, which was similar to iodine, and began swabbing Dean's now exposed genitals in preparation for the surgery.

This was as far as I was willing to let it go. Just as Doctor Mullin reached to his right and grabbed a large scalpel, I punched the button on my lapel microphone and shouted "All personnel! Go for breach! Now! Now! Now!"

Blessedly, the door to the surgical room was never locked. Chris, Angel and their two teams immediately burst in with guns drawn and flooded the surgical room with Chris's team securing the left sector and Angel's team securing the right.

"MASON COUNTY SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT!" Ben Villanueva screamed. "GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR NOW WITH YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR NOW!!"

All of the females in the room started screaming. Florence, the nurse anesthetist, just screamed "No! No! No! Oh, my God! No!" She just continued to stand there freaking out and was too petrified to get down on the floor like she was told.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?!!" Doctor Mullin demanded. "You are interrupting an urgent and delicate procedure!! I demand you leave immediately!!"

Florence continued to scream and freak out. "My patient! My patient! He's unconscious and can't breathe on his own! I have to help him!"

Ben Villanueva keyed his mic and shouted, "Pat! We need medics up front! Now!"

I turned to the two RRFFD medics and shouted, "Go! Now!" The two medics, one male and one female, both sprinted down the hallway towards the surgical suites. They had seen the path taken by the assault team and headed the same way.

"Medics on the way, Ben!"

"Copy!"

"The medics are on the way, ma'am! Step back from the patient!" Ben ordered.

"But he's not breathing!" she pleaded.

Ben hesitated for a moment. "Okay," he said. "Do what you need to help him. Keep your hands where I can see them. Danny? Give her a hand."

Deputy Sergeant Danny Larson holstered his weapon and proceeded to see what he could do to help the nurse anesthetist. Just then, both paramedics arrived in the room. The extra commotion, combined with Danny moving in to help, provided just enough of a distraction. Brad Weston leaped to his feet and sprinted through a door to an adjoining surgical room, then through another door and into the hallway.

Brad took off running with Ben in full pursuit. "We got one running, Pat!" Two other deputies drew down hard on Todd and Kyle to make sure they stayed on the floor.

Shit! I watched Brad turn to his right down another hallway and into a room that was the doctors' lounge. The door locked from the inside and Ben couldn't gain access to it. I watched as Brad bolted to another door that was kitty-corner to the one he just entered through and I moaned as I realized it was a door that exited the building.

"He's outside, Ben! I'm pursuing on foot," I said into my mic. I dashed out the front door of the building and immediately cut to the right and around the corner of the building. I could see Brad about 80 yards ahead of me as he was sprinting across the parking lot. He was headed towards a residential area on the north side of the hospital.

I made good time crossing the parking lot and kept pace with Brad, even though I wasn't really closing it. I reminded myself that all I had to do was follow Brad. Brad was the one who had to decide where he was going. Eventually, he would hesitate at the wrong time and I would eventually catch him. Lucky for me, he wasn't even looking back to see who was following him.

Brad was still in a full sprint heading down Adams Avenue. He ran straight for about three blocks before cutting left onto 4^th Street Northwest. He was getting deeper and deeper into an older and established neighborhood. The homes here were fairly old, stately and close together. Brad ran for a block and a half before cutting north again through an alley between Jefferson and Madison Avenues.

Brad stopped running, obviously thinking he had outrun any pursuit. He was walking with his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. As I rounded the corner and headed towards him, he was only about 20 yards in front of me. The sound of my equipment on my utility belt gave me away. Brad immediately whisked around, saw me and yelled, "Aw, fuck!"

He headed in a dead sprint again and crossed 5^th street, still staying in the alley. We ran steady, with me gaining on him slightly. We crossed 6^th street and then 7^th street. Halfway between 7^th and 8^th street, Brad cut left into what he probably though was another alley between Jefferson and Madison. He was wrong. It was a utility right-of-way only and the path was bordered almost exclusively by six-foot privacy fences. The path dead ended to another privacy fence wall from a house on Madison Avenue.

The fence was made from PVC. When Brad tried to scale it he couldn't get any traction with his feet due to the shoe coverings he was still wearing from the surgical center. He made one attempt and clumsily fell to the ground at the base of the wall. When he got back up for another attempt, he looked behind him and found himself staring down the barrel of my Glock. Smartly, he slowly rose with both hands in the air, completely out of breath.

"Brad Weston," I panted, trying to catch my own wind. "you're under arrest. You have...(pant)...the right to remain...silent. If you give up the right...to remain silent...anything you say can... and will be used against you...in a court of law. You have a right...to an attorney. If you cannot afford...an attorney...one will be provided...for you. Do you...understand these rights...as I have read them...to you?"

Brad just stood there, gasping for air, and nodding his head yes. For some reason, I just stood there, pointing my weapon at Brad. For a few fleeting moments, a powerful wave of emotion washed over me and I was only moments away from shooting him. Brad could obviously sense it, too. Perhaps he saw my eyes narrow or some other telltale sign that I really wanted to put a double tap in his forehead.

"Look, sheriff," he said, hesitantly. "You got me, okay? I'm not running, okay? I'm not resisting. You have no reason to use deadly force, okay?"

"You were going to mutilate my friend today," I said tersely.

Brad swallowed hard. "Look...this whole thing...was Mercedes' idea, okay? All of it, Sheriff. I mean, I know I helped some, too. But this whole thing was her fucked up, crazy idea, okay?"

Now my eyes narrowed and I sighted in my big Glock on Brad's forehead, bringing my right index finger to rest in the trigger well and thumbed off the safety.

Now Brad really panicked. "Jesus, Sheriff! It wasn't my idea! Okay? Dean Strobe is just a fucking wimp, pussy, cuckold husband! He isn't worth killing me over, okay? I admit, we were gonna cut his nuts off! But that isn't the same as killing a guy, okay? I'll tell you what you wanna know, for Christ's sake! Sheriff! Are you fucking listening to me?"

I stared Brad down for about another twenty seconds, just about to the point where I thought I saw tears forming in his eyes. I brought my Glock down from a shooter's stance, flipped the safety back on and returned the weapon to my holster.

Brad let out a sigh of desperation and leaned back against the privacy fence in relief. "I knew you'd see reason, Sheriff," he said, smirking. "The little cuck pussy isn't worth killing anybody over."

In a flash, I drew out my X26 taser with my left hand and drew down on Brad. A look of horror flashed over his face the instant I pulled the trigger and fired the two metal barbs directly into Brad's gut just above his navel.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" he screamed. Damn! I never knew that a human male could make a noise like that.

The X26 delivered a five-second burst of 50,000 volts into Brad's gut, completely disrupting every neuromuscular pathway in his body and reducing him to a steaming pile of dog shit.

"That first burst, Brad, was for Dean Strobe," I said, tauntingly. Brad just lay there moaning. "This next burst, however, is for fucking my ex-wife!" I pulled the trigger again and delivered another five-second burst of electricity, eliciting the same ear-piercing and blood-curdling man-shriek as the first one.

"Stop resisting!" I shouted, while chuckling. "Stop resisting!" I couldn't help myself. Once my inner bastard gets let off the chain, it is hard to get him back on the leash.

"Oooooooh, fuuuuuuuck," Brad moaned. There were two little blood spots forming on his abdomen from where the barbs entered. "Jeeeeezuz, Sheriff. You...didn't have...to do that...asshole!"

"Oh, yes, I did, Brad," I said closing in on him. "That was to send a message that there is a price to be paid for fucking with my friends and family. It was also a message that you had better stay the fuck away from my fiancée, Shannon. Do you hear me you son of a bitch?" I grabbed him by hair and looked him right in the eyes. "If you go ANYWHERE near Shannon, I will make it my mission in life to bury you! Understand? My...mission...in...life!! I will bury you with a shovel and then bury the shovel!!"

Brad gulped and nodded. I rolled him on his side, being careful of the taser barbs still stuck in his abdomen. I cuffed his hands behind his back and stood him up. As I did so, I got an overwhelming smell of bowel and the front of his scrub pants was wet. Brad had shit and pissed himself during the second blast of the taser.

"Jesus, Brad! You absolutely reek!" He was still pretty wobbly once he was on his feet again and a large piece of turd dropped out the bottom of his pant leg and onto the ground. I narrowly avoided stepping in it. As a further act of humiliation, I slipped my right hand underneath Brad's left arm and placed it on the back of his neck, pushing him over into a hunched position and proceeded to "duck walk" him the entire nine blocks back to the surgical center. No way was I going to call for a cruiser to pick him up, just to get Brad's shit and piss all over the inside of one of my vehicles.

It took fifteen minutes to get back to the surgical center. People had come out of their homes, slowed down in their cars or stopped walking long enough to watch me march Brad back to where we started. Needless to say, he was pretty pissed and humiliated.

"Holy shit! There you are, Pat," Ben said, greeting me. He immediately made a face as he caught a whiff of Brad's new scent.

"How's Dean?"

"He's doing okay. The paramedics are still with him and were able to bring him out of the anesthesia okay. He seems like he's going to be fine. Scared and shaken, of course. But physically okay."

"Good. When they're done with Dean, have one of the paramedics meet up with me to get my taser barbs removed from Brad's stomach."

"Okay, will do."

"Where is everybody else?"

"We've got them in custody and holed up in one of the waiting rooms. The county attorney and one of his prosecutors are on their way over right now. The surgical room is secure and the state Bureau of Criminal Investigation is on their way here right now to begin processing the entire building."

"Excellent, Ben. Good work. Let's get Brad lumped in with the others. I got a feeling they're going to enjoy his company."

"Looks like you had a live one there, Pat!" Ben chuckled.

"Bullshit!" Dean protested. "I never fucking resisted. And you didn't have to tase me, asshole!"

"That's what happens when you resist arrest, Brad. Don't worry, though. That's a fairly minor charge and I'm pretty sure the county attorney will drop it once he gets done convicting you of all the other charges you face. But, then again, maybe he will add it on there just for a little sugar on top."

Ben led us to the waiting room where Mercedes, Todd, Kyle, Doctor Mullin, the anesthetist and the rest of the surgical team were all waiting. I led Brad into the room and let him crumple into a ball on the floor at Mercedes' feet. At the same time, the rest of the room got a nose full of Brad's aroma and were all visibly uncomfortable. One of the surgical technicians started gagging and asked for a trash can where she promptly ridded herself of her day's lunch.

"Oh, my God!" one said.

"That's awful!" said another.

"Jesus Christ! You smell like shit!"

"That's because he defecated in his pants," I explained.

"That's because you fucking tased me a million times!" Brad protested.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to step out for a minute to converse and hobnob a little bit with my fellow Deputies and the County Attorney." All of them looked horrified at being forced to stay in the room with an incredibly offensive Brad Weston. But there was little they could do about it as they were all handcuffed and had their ankles cuffed, as well.

Outside, I was met by Marion Lawson just as he arrived with Jillian Hackensack, one of his prosecutors.

"You wanna tell me what the hell went down here, Pat?" Marion asked.

I gave Marion the Cliff Notes version of the events. He was incredulous through the initial explanation until I got to the point where I reminded him that we had hours of video and audio collected from Dean's own house plus the audio and video collected from the surgical center itself.

Marion shook his head as he listened to what he knew would be a major case of assault and kidnapping but also he knew that the charges wouldn't stop there. It was a monumental case and one that was almost certainly going to produce national headlines across the country when word of the enormity of the case finally got out.

"How in the hell is it that you seem to be such a shit magnet, Quinn?"

"I guess I just have a magnetic personality, Marion. By the way, I'm still available any time to take Peggy Jean up on her dinner invite."

"You'll be waiting a long fucking time for that, Quinn."

"I'm Irish, ya know. Does Peggy Jean make a decent corned beef?"

"Peggy Jean makes a lot of things decent but she doesn't make them for you. Can we get back to the case now?" God, I loved needling him. Marion Lawson's wife gave me an invite to dinner quite some time ago and I enjoy pissing off Marion by reminding him about it, especially because Marion is a total bastard to his love-starved wife.

"The case is pretty well set, Marion. About all you and your staff have to do is watch and listen to the recordings and interview the suspects. Shouldn't be too difficult to get one or two of them to roll on the others."

"Do you know for a fact that everyone in there is even involved, Pat?"

"I know for sure that Mercedes Strobe, Brad Weston, Todd Andrews, Kyle Webber and Doctor Chet Mullin are all involved. What we heard on the audio and video feed would suggest that the nurse anesthetist is either involved or perhaps coerced into it. Possibly even the surgical nurse. Looks like the surgical room technicians were brought in just for the help."

"Okay. Have you told any of them what they're being charged with yet?"

"Not really. When I arrested Brad Weston I told him that he would be charged for sure with assault and kidnapping. That's as far as I got."

"Okay. I'll know more about what they're going to be facing after I have a chance to look at everything. Bring everything by my office first thing tomorrow. I assume you'll be here for a while yet?"

"Yes. The guys from BCI will be here in about 45 minutes. The place is on lockdown for now and Dean Strobe's house is officially a crime scene now, as well."

"Fine. You handle it from here, Quinn. I'll see you first thing in the morning."

Marion and his attaché left and I decided to pay a little visit to the people in the waiting room. I was for sure going to boot the three surgical techs and probably the surgical nurse. I retrieved a surgical mask and spread a dab of Vick's Vapo-Rub across my upper lip before I went into the waiting room.

"Hello again, everybody!" I did my best to sound pleasant and chipper, despite the fact that the surgical mask hid most of my face. I pulled up a chair, turned it around and sat down in it backwards and leaned against the back rest as I looked at everyone.

"Okay. You, you and you," I said, pointing to the three surgical techs, "are all free to go right now. Seriously. You're all free to leave. You're not being charged with anything." The three techs looked at each other and a wave of relief cascaded over their faces. "Come on over here and I'll unlock your cuffs."

The three techs eagerly waddled over to me and I unlocked their handcuffs and ankle cuffs and they all made a very hasty exit from the waiting room. Part of it was probably from the relief of facing arrest but most of it was probably to get away from the smell of Brad Weston's shit.

"Angie Kimmel?"

"Yes, that's me," the surgical nurse said.

"How did you get assigned to this surgery today?"

"Doctor Mullin called me at 3:00 this afternoon and told me he had an emergency procedure. I'm the surgical nurse on call today. That's all I know, Sheriff. I swear."

"Okay. That's all I needed to hear. Come on over here and I'll uncuff you, too."

Once she was gone I sat there and stared at Doctor Mullin, Mercedes, Brad, Todd, Kyle and Florence Jackson, the nurse anesthetist. One by one I pointed at each of them and said, "You're going to jail, you're going to jail, you're going to jail, you're going to jail, you're going to jail and YOU, Doctor Mullin, are DEFINITELY going to jail!"

"I'm not going anywhere until I've spoken to my attorney, Sheriff Quinn. I'm going to personally frame your badge on my office wall when I'm done with you, do you hear me? All you've done today is put a man's health in jeopardy. I've got plenty of medical documentation attesting to Mr. Strobe's medical condition."

"Yeah, I know. I heard you talking about that on the security camera when you were chatting with Mercedes and Brad." THAT seemed to get the good doctor's attention.

"I want to see my husband!" Mercedes demanded.

"Absolutely not," I replied.

"You can't keep me from away from my husband!"

"Actually, under state law, I absolutely do have the right to initiate an order of protection for your husband if I feel there is an immediate threat to his health and safety."