At your friend’s apartment.”
Everything happened at once.
Vachon and his team came through the warehouse doors, and Braddock smashed the vial on the concrete and a cloud of gas bloomed up blinding and choking, and officers had me by the arms and were hauling me out a side exit into the air while a medic checked my breathing.
And through it all I could hear Vachon at his car radio, and the dispatcher’s voice coming back fast and urgent — an active break-in at the apartment complex, a man posing as a utility technician.
My daughter.
My daughter was behind a door that a man was trying to come through.