With the city’s main thoroughfares locked in gridlocked evening traffic and ambulances delayed across the district due to multiple weather accidents, the father had made the only choice left to him: put his daughter on the back of his machine and cut through the storm on two wheels.
Nolan grabbed the radio receiver, depressing the mic button with a decisive click:
"Dispatch, this is Unit 204! Cancel pursuit on the motorcycle! Repeat, cancel pursuit! We have a critical pediatric medical emergency on board! The rider is attempting to reach Mercy General Hospital! We are initiating Code 3 escort!"
"Unit 204, Dispatch copies. All units hold non-emergency traffic. Mercy General ER notified," the dispatcher's voice crackled back with urgent clarity.
Chapter III: The Blue Shield
Nolan didn't pull behind the motorcycle to tail it; he hit the high-beam takedowns, surged ahead, and positioned the cruiser directly in front of the bike to part the sea of traffic like an armored wedge.
"Mercy General is four miles out," Rachel called out, watching the GPS screen update in real-time. "We have six major intersections ahead. Traffic on Buena Vista is backed up for half a mile!"
"Not tonight," Nolan muttered grimly.