Jack recovered from the near collision with expertise. He gained his rightful position in the high-speed pursuit, cranking a one eighty in the process. Keno barked three times to congratulate his partner on a masterful recovery and was ready for action.
Jack reported into the radio, “I have the possible suspects in pursuit. Grey Doge van… two, seven, Charlie, David, David, three. Now heading east on Del Monte Avenue.”
Before Jack could put both hands back on the wheel, a black Mustang rocketed from a cross street and smashed the side of the police car. The crash was deafening lasting only two seconds of crumpled metal and glass, as pieces of trim from both vehicles rained into the street and onto the sidewalk. The passenger side window of the patrol car had shattered and the crystallized pieces of the window dropped down in peculiar musical notes.
Anything that wasn’t secure in the front seat of the patrol car flew around in a haphazard display and finally landed on the floor and seat. The cool evening air rushed into the car instantly, cutting the heavy feeling of dread and the reality of what had just happened.