Armed Patron Dispute 20230919-2

[M. Price]

((2x Sheriffs, CORNER OF SOUTH SECOND AND EAST SIDE DRIVE, South Fort Shannon, Dispute With Armed Patron)

"911, where's your emergency"

"The Bada Bing! on the corner of South Second and East Side Drive in Fort Shannon, we need some cops here now"

"What's your emergency?"

"This guy trying to enter the club isn't leaving.  He's been arguing with our bouncer for awhile now.  We've been telling him he can't enter the strip club while armed but he won't hand over his pistol and he won't leave the premise either!"

"and so far no one is hurt?"

"No one is hurt but I fear that could change any moment"

"Ok, stay on the line, I'm dispatching Sheriffs now"

[J. Jones]

*Sitting in my car watching TikTok I hear the CAD ping for a pending call. I put my phone down and look at my open computer.*
 

’Well this should be fun. Kilo, wanna go have some fun buddy?’

 

*Kilo perks up and sticks his head through the divider and starts to yip as I flick the lights on and put the car in drive*
 

”232 Central, enroute”

[R. O'Reilly]

"217 responding"

I turn onto South Second from Bayside, accelerating as I slide the switch to position three, turning on the lights and siren.

[J. Jones]

*I turn onto East Side Dr. and I kill my lights. Kilo starts to bark and to circles in his kennel as we pull up and my put my into in park. I step out and hit the lock on the exterior handle of my Durango.*

”232 Central I’m 23.”

*As I start to walk towards the front door, Kilo starts aggressively barking. I can see the bouncer and the presumed unruly patron standing off to the side having what looks like a heated discussion. They both stop and look at me as I walk up and to see the source of the barking*
 

’Whats going on tonight?’

B: ‘This dude can’t read the no weapons sign. I told him to either check his piece with us and he can get it when he leaves or he can leave.’

P: ’This is bullshit, this is a free fucking country. It’s my right to carry a gun’

*As he speaks I can smell the alcohol coming from his breath and his speech is slurred*
 

’Yes sir it is, put this is a private establishment and they have the right to refuse to allow you in with a gun. Plus, it is illegal to carry a firearm while under the influence’

P: ‘Naw. Naw. Naw. This is BULLSHIT. I ain’t had shit to drink, this motherfucker thinks he’s better than me and can bully me around.’

’Look sir, let’s walk to my car and figure this out.’

P: ‘Naw I ain’t going no fucking where. You can’t make me do shit.’

”232, 217 step it up.”

[R. O'Reilly]

"232, 217 step it up."

"217, 10-4."

Three words, but they may as well have been a lightning bolt. I was already running code, so there wasn't much more stepping it up to be done, but there was a little. I'm on a straight street. I press down on the gas and accelerate in the pickup, appreciating the engine's roar. I was only a minute or two away. I clear the intersection at Ryan Street and dive into the right lane, cutting the sirens as I whip the F-150 into the parking lot.

"217's out."

I throw the truck in park, not bothering to cut the lights as I hop out. I survey the situation as I walk up to John, keeping an eye on the drunkard.

'What's up?'

[J. Jones]

'I'm going to tell you one more time to leave or you're going to jail'

P:'Man, fuck you! Make me'

*He turns to me tosses his arms out to his side and starts backing away towards the door of the club*

'Alright, suit yourself. You're under arrest turn around'

*I start moving towards him*

'Get fucked'

*He turns and starts to run away down the block*

'Wrong move buddy. Stop or I will release my dog!'

*I see him look over his shoulder as I hit the door popper*

'Kilo, Get em boy!'

*Kilo comes flying out the back of my cruiser and I can hear claws on pavement as he takes off like a missile after the suspect*

[R. O'Reilly]

I start to try to circle around the suspect as John tells him to leave again. I knew this guy's type. He wasn't going to just walk off, and he wasn't going to willing go to jail, either. Sure enough, he takes off and John hits the door popper attached to his belt. I watch as Kilo bounds out of the backseat, running after the suspect.

'Man, wrong choice today.'

I follow John up to the suspect, letting him get control of Kilo before I throw cuffs on the suspect.

[J. Jones]

*As Kilo takes off, I see a black blur shooting down the sidewalk. About 4 seconds later I see him spinning through the air and slamming onto the ground and I hear Kilo growling excitedly.*

P:'Ow! Ow! Ow! Get the dog, get the dog!'

'Put your hands out to the side before I take my dog off!'

*The suspect complies and I grab Kilo by his colar*

'Kilo, Los!'

*Kilo lets go of the suspect and I pull him back holding his collar incase the suspect decided to do something dumb*

'Go ahead and cuff him Rich'

[R. O'Reilly]

Once John pulls Kilo off, I kneel and cuff the suspect.

I unholster the handgun he's carrying and clear it, leaving it locked open. I start patting him down. 'You have anything sharp on you? Anything that's gonna poke me?'

He shakes his head and I fish his wallet out of his pocket as I finish patting him down.

'Stand up,' I tell him as I haul him to his feet. I start to walk him back towards the patrol cars.

'Why the fuck did you run? You got a warrant? We looking for you? Or you just decide to be fucking stupid today?'

[R. O'Reilly]

We search the guy and find nothing else of note. I tuck him into my backseat so I can transport him down to the detention center and then head out, leaving John to finish up taking a statement from the property owner.

"217 en route to SCDC, one in custody."