" Malik yelled back. He was terrified, but he was also furious. He was a law student. He knew his rights. He knew this was illegal.
Last warning, Slayton shouted. The red laser dot of the taser danced on Malik's chest. Do not shoot my son, Governor Vance roared from his knees. He started to stand up. Officer, if you touch him, Slayton panicked.
He felt surrounded. He had a suspect behind him rising up and a suspect in front of him refusing orders. His training, what little of it stuck, evaporated. He reacted on instinct. He pulled the trigger.
The sound of a taser deployment is distinctive. A loud pop followed by the rapid crackling tick tick tick tick of the electrical current. Two barbed probes shot out from Officer Slayton's weapon flying through the air at 180 feet per second. They hit Malik in the chest and the abdomen. 50,000 volts of electricity surged through Malik's body. His muscles locked instantly.
He couldn't scream. He couldn't breathe. He fell forward slamming onto the concrete pool deck with a sickening thud. His glasses flew off. His iPad skidded across the tiles.
He convulsed on the ground helpless as the current hijacked his nervous system. Malik, Elena screamed. It was a sound of pure maternal agony. She scrambled off her lounge chair rushing toward her son. Governor Vance didn't scream.
He roared. It was a guttural sound of rage. He lunged toward Slayton not to attack, but to get to his son. You son of a —. Slayton spun around dropping the spent taser cartridge.
He saw the large man coming at him. Slayton didn't see a father protecting his child. He saw a suspect attacking an officer. He stepped in and delivered a brutal forearm shiver to the governor's chest, knocking the older man backward. Vance stumbled, his bad knee buckling.
He fell hard onto a teak lounge chair, breaking it. Slayton was on him in a second. He pressed his knee into the governor's back, driving the air from his lungs. He grabbed Vance's left wrist and twisted it high behind his back. "Stop resisting!
" Slayton screamed the universal chant of an officer losing control. "You are under arrest for assaulting an officer. " "I am the governor. " Vance gasped, his face pressed into the cushion of the chair. "You are destroying your life.
" "Yeah, and I'm the Pope. " Slayton sneered. He yanked the other arm back. The handcuffs clicked. Ratchet.
Ratchet. Tight. Too tight. Elena reached Malik. She was sobbing, trying to pull the probes out of his skin, which is exactly what you aren't supposed to do.
Malik was groaning, dazed, blood trickling from his lip where he hit the ground. "Get back! " Slayton yelled at Elena, reaching for his radio. "Dispatch, shots fired. I mean, taser deployed, one in custody, one down.
Send back up, send medical. Suspects are combative. " Ashley Miller was watching from behind the velvet rope. She was still recording. But the smile was gone from her face.
She held her phone with shaking hands. This This wasn't what she expected. She expected them to be escorted out. She expected a scolding. She didn't expect bodies on the ground.
She didn't expect the violence to look so real. "Oh my god. " She whispered to her live stream. He just He tased him. They were fighting the police.
She was trying to convince herself. She was narrating the lie to make it true. They were fighting. They resisted. It's their fault.
From the main resort building, Mr. Henderson, the general manager, burst through the doors. He was a portly man in a suit sweating profusely. Behind him were two men in plain clothes, sunglasses, earpieces, polo shirts tucked into cargo pants. They were the governor's state trooper detail, Sergeant Miller and Trooper Davis. They had been in the break room when the call came over the resort radio about a disturbance at the cabana.
They saw the scene. They saw the local cop on top of the governor. They saw the governor's son twitching on the ground. Sergeant Miller drew his weapon. Not a taser.
A SIG Sauer P320 service pistol. "Police, drop it! " Miller screamed sprinting across the pool deck. "Get off him! Get off him right now!
" Officer Slayton looked up confused. He saw two men with guns charging him. He thought they were the rest of the gang. He reached for his holster. "Don't you do it!
" Trooper Davis yelled. "State police, hands in the air! Get off the governor! " "Governor! " The word finally penetrated Slayton's adrenaline fog.
He froze. He looked at the men charging him. He saw the badges on their belts. He looked down at the man beneath his knee. He saw the face.
He had seen that face on the news. He had seen that face on the wall of the police station in the official portrait. Slayton's heart stopped. The blood drained from his face leaving him ghostly pale. He took his knee off Vance's back.
He stepped away, his hands trembling. I I Slayton stammered. Sergeant Miller didn't wait. He holstered his gun and shoved Slayton hard in the chest knocking him back. Stand down.
You stand the hell down. Miller knelt beside Vance. Governor, sir. Are you okay? I am so sorry, sir.
We were just We were right there. Vance rolled over. His white shirt was torn. His face was scraped. He sat up wincing.
He didn't look at Miller. He looked at Slayton. Uncuff me. Vance said. His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a death sentence.