SWAT callout for a guy who pointed a gun out his front door at a pair of deputies making a traffic stop in front of his house. All of these things happened during a single callout:
1. I ran down the street to our box van to get some bolt cutters to get through a front gate. The only ones I could find were about 4 feet long. Difficult to carry with all my weapons and gear and I waddled up to the gate with another operator who held the little tiny lock between the gate bars (completely exposed to the house) and delicately cut with the huge cutters. A light came on and we ran away and hid behind a dirt pile which we discovered was actually beauty bark. Not good cover.
2. The team leader took nearly 20 shots with a pellet gun at a light that would not go out...at least it would not stay out. It kept flicking back to life.
3. We got the OK for gas and to break some windows for ventilation. Everyone on the team stoned the house for 10 minutes.
4. We deployed our hot box (nicknamed Marilyn) which is an ammo can with holes with an incendiary CS grenade inside. Shield team of 4 made way for the door...uh ohh, light came on again. We backed out. Light went off. Sneaky moto approach again...ahhhh...the light. We backed off. Motion sensor.
5. Gas guy uses Shot Lok door breaching round but the round was a dud and went tink...tink..tink..tinktinktink plop out the end of the barrel. So did the second round and we were all cracking up right there at the door.
6. Team leader goes to ram the door but uses the wrong end and goes through the glass and wood lattice to his armpit. We got his arm back out, laughed ourselves silly as we stepped inside and dropped off Marilyn and laughed all the way back to our near cover.
7. We got to use an Air Farce remote controlled robot to check out the house and find the bad guy...we thought he might have shot himself by this time...somebody heard a pop and we were getting no response from the gas. The robot got caught up on the lawn, its own cable, a Doritos bag and a throw pillow. We had to run up and free it each of those times.
As it turned out the bad guy blew his brains out with a .45. This call prompted a rather lengthy poem from me at the Christmas party.