"It looks like the same vehicle that caused the accident on the Interstate." Sheriff Bert Thomas advised me, while he called in the license plate number of the SUV to the dispatcher. "Could be a DUI, but they also could be running away from something else.

Maybe we should wait for backup, kid."

"For the umpteenth time, I'm not a kid, Bert. I got this."

My name is Nick Wallace and I am a Deputy Sheriff in Middletown.

We had chased and stopped a SUV that was weaving back and forth over the centerline. The driver had been supposedly involved in a three-car crash on northbound Interstate 5 in Portland, leaving one person dead.

I got out and approached the vehicle. I tapped a knuckle on the window of the van and began to converse with the driver. I noted another passenger in front, a frightened woman. She was making strange movements with her eyes. Something was wrong.

I moved a few feet back and gestured for the driver to step out of the vehicle.

The guy reached to unfasten his seatbelt, but he got a gun instead and shot straight at me. I stumbled backwards onto the road.

Shit! The vest saved me from a serious injury, but even so it hurt like hell.

"Freeze! Drop your weapon!" I heard Bert shouting.