Читать книгу Start With a Win - Adam Contos - Страница 29

In the early 1990s, I was a rookie reserve police officer in Cherry Hills Village, an upscale community in south Denver. I was in training working the night shift when we received an alarm from a local megachurch—one of those with a huge sanctuary that holds hundreds of people. My training sergeant, Pat, and I immediately responded, along with two other squad cars.

The building's caretaker met us on-site and unlocked the church door. By now, we figured this was probably a false alarm—perhaps a bird inside the sanctuary had set off an alarm sensor. We walked around inside briefly without seeing anything unusual.

I decided to take one more lap around the sanctuary and told the other officers I would meet them at the front entrance. I began to walk from the back down one of the long aisles that converges at the pulpit. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck bristled; my stomach knotted. I could hear the silent voice in my head yelling, “Something is wrong, take action!” As a rookie, I had never been in an armed confrontation, but my subconscious survival instinct must have kicked in. (Pay attention to those instincts, or an opportunity to take action can pass by.)

Over my right shoulder I saw what I thought was a leather purse on a seat. Then that silent voice yelled, “Put a gun in your hand, now!” I drew my weapon, spun around, and pointed it at the face of a man emerging from where I thought the purse had been. He was climbing to his feet and had a silver object that in the dim light looked like a knife. He was so close that I almost shot him right there. (Law enforcement are taught that a knife-wielding assailant can close a 21-foot gap and stab you before you can even react.)

I was scared even though the weapon he was holding turned out to be a silver nail file. He had used it to try to break into the church's cash box; that's what had set off the alarm. I tried to radio for help, but the signal couldn't penetrate the sanctuary walls. We both stood there; he looked at me with that “Now what?” stare.

I knew I had to act, so nervously I ordered him to drop the knife or I would shoot. Thankfully, he complied. He was probably as startled and afraid as I was. What seemed like an eternity passed as I held him there at gunpoint. I think it was actually only a few seconds before my partners showed up. Veteran cops, they handcuffed the man, then gave me a high-five and hugs for catching my first felony in progress.