Just as the officers hauled a blinded, handcuffed Adrian to his feet, an ambulance screeched to a halt on the grass. Two paramedics rushed out, carrying their trauma bags and an AED.
They pushed past the officers and dropped beside the woman.
"What happened here?" the lead paramedic demanded, quickly applying the AED pads to the woman's chest.
"We caught this guy attacking her," Lawson said proudly, wiping his hands on his belt.
The paramedic glanced at the heavy red marks on the woman's sternum—the unmistakable, life-saving bruising of textbook CPR. She looked at the woman's face, then at the monitor. "She’s in V-fib. Someone was giving her high-quality compressions before we got here. Who was doing CPR?"
Adrian, his eyes swollen shut and face dripping with bright orange pepper spray, called out from the back of the squad car. "Epi! She needs epinephrine! I pushed for three minutes before they tackled me!"
The paramedics froze, realizing exactly what had just happened. The lead EMT looked up at Lawson and Cruz, her expression shifting from confusion to absolute horror. "You arrested the guy saving her life?"