I know I’ve written about car thieves before, but I really liked watching this guy somersault fifty feet off a bridge.
These are old sayings and kind of played out but:
“Go big or go home.”
“If your gonna do it wrong, do it right.”
“You’ll never catch me, copper!”
All seem to apply here.
Fort Myers, (Yup) Florida, was the spot recently where a suspect in a stolen van lead police on a chase before biting it spectacularly while crossing the Edison Bridge. The video (below) is FLIR but our suspect Bryan ***** looks to lose a right front tire, or maybe he dropped his cigarette, I’d like to think he was distracted trying to find the right song for running from the police (East Bound and Down by Jerry Reed, or Mr. Policeman by Brad Paisley would be my choices) when he bounced his stolen van of the right and left guardrails before coming to a literal screeching halt in the middle of the bridge.
Bryan did look good though in his utterly ungraceful, arms and legs splayed corkscrew he did flopping into the water. Maybe he had a good plan but just lost his footing and that threw off his form which in turn foiled his escape? I imagine in his head he saw himself doing the whole straighten out, toes pointed, arms crossed thing that seems to work for cliff divers on YouTube. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a dead ringer for the falling mannequin trick you see in underfunded action movies. I realize I’m giving a guy who steals vans and jumps off bridges a lot of credit here.
Nice try Bryan, but you never had a chance. Enjoy your Grand Theft, Fleeing, and Eluding charges.
And thank you Florida. You never disappoint.
Don’t forget to check out my new Jackson Cole thriller, Acquisitor
Detective Miles Otis pointed, “That’s an arm…”
Detective Jackson Cole sighed, “Yeah.”
Otis studied the random severed limb for moment, “You ever miss the good old days, dope and drive bys…?”
You catch one strange case and suddenly they call you the Freak Police behind your back. If the case is even remotely weird Cole and Otis get the call. Now they find themselves in a vacant lot staring at a forearm.
Fingerprints give them a name. Hardnosed police work generates a suspect. She’s a witch, so was the guy who’s forearm sits in a cooler at the coroner’s office. The witch says a hellhound killed her friend. And its hunting the homeless of Charleston.
Witches, magic, and a…hellhound?
Any other two detectives would laugh at a story like that. But Cole and Otis have faced the supernatural before. It almost killed them.
There’s a reason they call them Freak Police.
But can they face the darkness again?