He must have been in shock because he didn’t react until he looked stupidly down at his forearm, which was bent about 30 degrees at an unnatural angle. I would have been screaming my head off. I think he was lucky because when he saw his broken arm, it was as if the lights went out. It was either that or the result of being hit in his temple. He sank into a puddle with a gurgle.
I turned to the other two who looked at their wounded companions as if the world had just ended. They looked up at the two of us and then turned and ran.
Dad and Ian hustled our moms and Brook inside the building, and I called out to him to call the police.
After that, I looked over at Cassidy, who remained on the balls of her feet. All of a sudden, I felt the energy just drain entirely out of me. I leaned against a wall and started shaking. I recognized it for what it was: the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush I’d just experienced. Cassidy, on the other hand, seemed like she was on high-alert guard duty. She was clearly in her element!
We heard a European-style police siren, and an old-fashioned police car pulled up in front of us. Two officers exited the car. The one from the passenger side quickly checked the three men on the ground, as the other pulled his revolver and trained it on us.
Cassidy started to react, still in combat mode. That had to be averted quickly.
“Cassidy, stand down!” I ordered.
She stared the police officer in the eye for a moment. Her sudden relaxed attitude reminded me of a panther as it eyed its prey. I could tell it unnerved the poor guy. My little ninja could do that to you.
The first officer, checking on the downed men, made a motion to the other who visibly relaxed. Even so, he didn’t put his gun away. He just dropped it to his side so it was pointing at the ground.
Fortunately for us, English was the official language of Trinidad and Tobago, although most locals also spoke some sort of creole. So when the first officer calmly asked, “Would you care to tell me what happened here?” it was actually somewhat soothing to our frazzled nerves.
There are times to keep quiet, as any lawyer will tell you, but there are also times when a little information can nip things in the bud. I decided this was one of those latter times.
I walked him through the fight, making sure to include describing the first man reaching for something in his pocket after demanding our money. And the third man pulling a knife on us. It was hard to miss the switchblade lying on the street right next to his unconscious form. The officer stepped over to the leader’s body and patted down his pockets, coming up with a small revolver.
The second police officer was on his radio, and a couple more sirens joined the party as two ambulances and another police car pulled up. In the meantime, our crew had come back out of the helicopter tour building, and a small crowd had started gathering. This could rapidly turn into a shitstorm.
Dad asked the officer if he would interview us somewhere more private.
“Of course. Let’s go to my car.”
Uh, oh! Dad looked pissed.
“This is my son and his friend. They’re both minors, and I don’t want them interviewed without me present.”
The officer looked at Dad.
“Sir, you forget this is not the States. Our laws are different here. I am taking them to the station now, and you can make your way there,” he said with exaggerated politeness and patience.
When Dad started to protest, I held my hand up to him.
“Dad, let’s try not to make this any more complicated. Call Frank, Fritz, Ms. Dixon, and a taxi.”
I turned to the police officer.
“Sir, do you have a business card for my father so he will know where to go and who to call?”
The officer got a thin smile on his face, but it seemed to be a smile of respect more than anything else. He pulled a card case from his shirt pocket, extracted two cards, and handed one to me and one to my dad.
“Sir, we’re reasonable people. We must question these two. I do not plan to charge them. The issue I’m facing is that you will only be here for a short time. I would hate to have to detain them as witnesses if they don’t cooperate. I would much rather get their statements and let you enjoy the rest of your vacation. Let me take them to the station, and we’ll wait for you to arrive. I’ll personally make sure they are taken care of. I have children myself,” he told my dad.
Just before we got into the car, I turned and handed my glasses to Brook.
“Give these to my mom and have her contact Fritz. He’ll walk her through how to download the video from my bodycam. Once she has it, she can upload it to my Dropbox account and text Dad so we can show it to the police.”
She looked perplexed as she took them.
“Okay,” she said, and we were on our way.
◊◊◊
The station house was right out of a 1950s movie set. It had high ceilings and big fans to move the air. The police put Cassidy and I into a holding area and left us by ourselves.
