On go my lights. As I begin the pursuit of the fleeing pickup, a Taurus coming through the next intersection fails to yield to the siren. Avoiding that idiot, I accelerate to catch the pickup. I put out the failure to yield on the radio and ask for cover only to find there is none. I ask for the department helicopter. It's grounded.
The pursuit is all mine now, and it's going to be a while before help comes my way. The pickup is coming to a heavily traveled boulevard. This time it goes through the red light and is almost struck by cross traffic. The driver makes the next left and I follow.
I get in behind him and with one hand on the mike and the other on the steering wheel, put the license plate out on the air. The suspect slams on the brakes. I drop the mike, steer and brake to avoid hitting the truck. If I hit him, my airbag will deploy, putting me out of service, and the pickup truck will probably sustain little damage.
At the next major intersection, the truck turns right, narrowly missing a school bus. I'm thinking this guy is really drunk or crazy, or maybe both. We accelerate down a long city street 50, 60, 70 miles per hour. My competitive juices are flowing and that natural tendency we have as cops is taking over. I'm not going to loose this guy, and I will put him in jail. He runs two more stop signs, and I just miss a white Honda Civic crossing the intersection oblivious to the emergency lights and siren.
By now, we are out in a residential area and the pickup accelerates past two school buses, blows another red light and makes the next left. I'm up over 70 mph now. I brake hard and make the left a few seconds behind the pickup only to be greeted by a dump truck and front-loader now blocking the roadway.