Dispatcher: 911 what is your emergency?
Concerned neighbor: I would like to report what sounds like shots fired.
Dispatcher: What is your location?
Concerned neighbor: 3848 Hamilton Drive, New Versailles, Louisana 70113
Dispatcher: Okay.
Dispatcher creates call sheet and types information to officers in neighborhood.
Comp reports gunshots. Two unknown veh infront of neighbors yard. Unable to make out license plate.
Dispatcher: Please stay on the line until officers arrive.
Neighbor: please hurry it looks like someone is being taken.
Dispatcher: Officers have been notified and en route.
Neighbor: Hurry I heard screaming.
(Be advised all officers dispatched code 3 lights and sirens.)
Officer Hero Dispatch this is Officer Hero enroute to that code 3, is that address correct?
Dispatch Address has been confirmed. Complainant no longer on line to give details. Suspects last seen driving off at a high rate of speed.
Concerned neighbor: I would like to report what sounds like shots fired.
Dispatcher: What is your location?
Concerned neighbor: 3848 Hamilton Drive, New Versailles, Louisana 70113
Dispatcher: Okay.
Dispatcher creates call sheet and types information to officers in neighborhood.
Comp reports gunshots. Two unknown veh infront of neighbors yard. Unable to make out license plate.
Dispatcher: Please stay on the line until officers arrive.
Neighbor: please hurry it looks like someone is being taken.
Dispatcher: Officers have been notified and en route.
Neighbor: Hurry I heard screaming.
(Be advised all officers dispatched code 3 lights and sirens.)
Officer Hero Dispatch this is Officer Hero enroute to that code 3, is that address correct?
Dispatch Address has been confirmed. Complainant no longer on line to give details. Suspects last seen driving off at a high rate of speed.
DEC.02.2016 @ 1322 - 1.22PM New Versailles Bayou Dispatch Codes 10-39, 10-52, 10-45b
Wynstelle: At the bayou's entrance, Winnie pulls out her phone. She's on the ground, jeans soaked in blood and hands covered with it. The woman's lost a lot of blood. Her leg hurts like hell. The pain's now pretty much unbearable now that the effects of the alcohol are wearing off. Quickly, the phones 911.
Okkota: There's not much of a pause, probably two rings worth when her call is picked up and the voice on the other end is smooth, collected and most of all, warm. There is a quiet tapping in the back ground. A keyboard as she logs both call and number of which made from. "911, what is your emergency?"
Wynstelle seems calm, despite her voice obviously revealing her pain. "Yes, hello, I need an ambulance at the entrance of the bayou. Stepped in a hunter's trap. My leg's broken," she pauses to inhale sharply, but doesn't elaborate much, "Can you make sure the paramedics keep Doctor House away from me?"
Okkota listened intently, a note made in program and a calm to resume. "Bayou entrance?" There is a clipping in words, and continued. "A hunters trap? Are you still in the trap?" She's beginning to make a further report on the traps. "You'll want to tell the paramedics, hon. Can you stay on the phone with me? I have an officer coming to your location." And it'll be easier with a cell phone still in a call to best locate. Of course, she wouldn't say that. "Is there any other injuries? Broken leg, left or right and is it above or below the knee?" Intending to keep her talking for as long as possible.
Wynstelle: "No, I'm not still in the trap. Yes, I can stay on the phone. I have no other injuries. It's below the knee. I've got the bleeding to stop, but I haven't put the bone back in place yet. I don't think I want to try that," Winnie responds, wincing. Dammit, why couldn't the alcohol last longer? ... Why had she gone to the bayou in the first place, anyway?
Okkota tipped-tapped notes while verbalizing over radio to Officer. And when her caller'd finish, she'd respond coolly. "Okay, very good hon. Thank you. Yes, please don't try to move it any more than you already have, okay? If you can, stay off of it and try to elevate above your knee. If you can't, that's okay too. What's your name hon?" with responders finally on the other radio, she was readying to send them first. As in ten minutes before the call sort of rush. "How about your age-ish? There should be an Officer there on the scene soon, hon. Let me know when you see him."
Wynstelle: "Wynstelle Hamsun, 41," she replies, glancing around. For the officer. For a way to elevate her leg. Neither, but she can hear the sirens and the police car soon comes into view. "I can't elevate it, no, but I can see the police car." A couple minutes pass. "Okay, the officer is getting out of the car. I see him."
Okkota: "Fantastic Misses Hamsun, thank you." She is gentle still, peppy even. Trying to project a positiveness in dire straights. More tapping. She makes a confirming sound at the note of vehicles in view. "Very good, you will be in good hands with the Officer, sweetheart." She'd croon and smile so bright, it could be heard. "Speedy healing, sweetie. Good luck ~" she waited long enough to hear the voice of Officer before she'd excuse herself off the line. Finishing the report out and recording it for obvious later records.
Wynstelle: At the bayou's entrance, Winnie pulls out her phone. She's on the ground, jeans soaked in blood and hands covered with it. The woman's lost a lot of blood. Her leg hurts like hell. The pain's now pretty much unbearable now that the effects of the alcohol are wearing off. Quickly, the phones 911.
Okkota: There's not much of a pause, probably two rings worth when her call is picked up and the voice on the other end is smooth, collected and most of all, warm. There is a quiet tapping in the back ground. A keyboard as she logs both call and number of which made from. "911, what is your emergency?"
Wynstelle seems calm, despite her voice obviously revealing her pain. "Yes, hello, I need an ambulance at the entrance of the bayou. Stepped in a hunter's trap. My leg's broken," she pauses to inhale sharply, but doesn't elaborate much, "Can you make sure the paramedics keep Doctor House away from me?"
Okkota listened intently, a note made in program and a calm to resume. "Bayou entrance?" There is a clipping in words, and continued. "A hunters trap? Are you still in the trap?" She's beginning to make a further report on the traps. "You'll want to tell the paramedics, hon. Can you stay on the phone with me? I have an officer coming to your location." And it'll be easier with a cell phone still in a call to best locate. Of course, she wouldn't say that. "Is there any other injuries? Broken leg, left or right and is it above or below the knee?" Intending to keep her talking for as long as possible.
Wynstelle: "No, I'm not still in the trap. Yes, I can stay on the phone. I have no other injuries. It's below the knee. I've got the bleeding to stop, but I haven't put the bone back in place yet. I don't think I want to try that," Winnie responds, wincing. Dammit, why couldn't the alcohol last longer? ... Why had she gone to the bayou in the first place, anyway?
Okkota tipped-tapped notes while verbalizing over radio to Officer. And when her caller'd finish, she'd respond coolly. "Okay, very good hon. Thank you. Yes, please don't try to move it any more than you already have, okay? If you can, stay off of it and try to elevate above your knee. If you can't, that's okay too. What's your name hon?" with responders finally on the other radio, she was readying to send them first. As in ten minutes before the call sort of rush. "How about your age-ish? There should be an Officer there on the scene soon, hon. Let me know when you see him."
Wynstelle: "Wynstelle Hamsun, 41," she replies, glancing around. For the officer. For a way to elevate her leg. Neither, but she can hear the sirens and the police car soon comes into view. "I can't elevate it, no, but I can see the police car." A couple minutes pass. "Okay, the officer is getting out of the car. I see him."
Okkota: "Fantastic Misses Hamsun, thank you." She is gentle still, peppy even. Trying to project a positiveness in dire straights. More tapping. She makes a confirming sound at the note of vehicles in view. "Very good, you will be in good hands with the Officer, sweetheart." She'd croon and smile so bright, it could be heard. "Speedy healing, sweetie. Good luck ~" she waited long enough to hear the voice of Officer before she'd excuse herself off the line. Finishing the report out and recording it for obvious later records.
DEC.03.2016 @ 0200 - 2.00AM New Versailles Bayou Dispatch Codes 10-00, 10-10, 10-32, 10-52, 10-79, 10-66
Kirsty was trembling furiously as she flipped open her phone, punching in 911 as best as she could whilst trying to hold a shotgun over one shoulder and pounding through the swamp. This was her third attempt at dialing out - the damn place barely had enough service! She waited for the damn call to connect, swearing loudly to herself as she did so.
Okkota hadn't recieved any of her calls until now. And when the line rang out, sow was eeriely calm upon answering. "911, what's your emergency ~?" There was a soft warm tone, the subtle tapping of a mechanical keyboard and the telling silence behind it to convey a sort of privacy.
Kirsty breathed a deep sigh of relief as a voice sounded through the phone. "Hello?" Her voice was breathless, panicked. Gunshots could be heard in the background. "I need back up! I repeat, back up required at the swamp!" The phone would begin to crackle with bad signal, now with only occasional words coming through... "Officer........ Hero.... Gunshot....."
Okkota listened intently to the surroundings through the headset. Pressing it to her ear a little more in some vain effort to paint an image for herself of the location. "Yes, hello." She responded to the panting greet. Okk's struggled to keep the signal strong, working to get a guess-timate on the triangled location while she repeated assistance needed. "Officers are on their way, hon. Can you get somewhere safe and stay on the line a little longer for them?" She didn't have confidence that this would be a thing. Already sending pages out to the department to scout the bayou, seeing as this appeared to be where the strongest signal was coming from. "Ma'am?" She called politely into reciever.
Kirsty's signal began to grow stronger again as a large BOOM sounded in the background. "Shit, who brought a FUCKING grenade?" Kirsty would bark to someone off the phone. A mumble replied, and two very loud shots sounded, almost as if they were from the caller. Almost immediately, the woman was back on the phone, crackles sounding once more as it appeared that she was still moving. "ADAM HERO.....DANGER..... SWAMP.......BACK UP NOW!" She shouted before the line went dead.
Okkota pressed her lips into a thin line after a long moment. She'd have enough listening to page almost the entire police force. The way she saw it, if she paged everyone - someone was bound to show up. Or many someone's, which would be better. Better page the fire department, too. They'll need paramedics. "Okay, Ma'am. Backup is on the way." The only thing she could get in between the crackles that would end the line before she could say anything else. "Backup please respond, 10-00 10-10 bayou. 10-32, 10-52. Backup please respond." There was a long pause in the radio before she'd speak again, "10-66 on Officer Hero." She was repeating herself until there was a radio break and a voice to respond. Fantastic "Yes, bayou, please respond." Her please was strained, more commanding than requesting. But feedback was assured. Squad cars and backup en route and noisily chattering for the situation details with dispatcher to clippedly repeat codes.
Kirsty was trembling furiously as she flipped open her phone, punching in 911 as best as she could whilst trying to hold a shotgun over one shoulder and pounding through the swamp. This was her third attempt at dialing out - the damn place barely had enough service! She waited for the damn call to connect, swearing loudly to herself as she did so.
Okkota hadn't recieved any of her calls until now. And when the line rang out, sow was eeriely calm upon answering. "911, what's your emergency ~?" There was a soft warm tone, the subtle tapping of a mechanical keyboard and the telling silence behind it to convey a sort of privacy.
Kirsty breathed a deep sigh of relief as a voice sounded through the phone. "Hello?" Her voice was breathless, panicked. Gunshots could be heard in the background. "I need back up! I repeat, back up required at the swamp!" The phone would begin to crackle with bad signal, now with only occasional words coming through... "Officer........ Hero.... Gunshot....."
Okkota listened intently to the surroundings through the headset. Pressing it to her ear a little more in some vain effort to paint an image for herself of the location. "Yes, hello." She responded to the panting greet. Okk's struggled to keep the signal strong, working to get a guess-timate on the triangled location while she repeated assistance needed. "Officers are on their way, hon. Can you get somewhere safe and stay on the line a little longer for them?" She didn't have confidence that this would be a thing. Already sending pages out to the department to scout the bayou, seeing as this appeared to be where the strongest signal was coming from. "Ma'am?" She called politely into reciever.
Kirsty's signal began to grow stronger again as a large BOOM sounded in the background. "Shit, who brought a FUCKING grenade?" Kirsty would bark to someone off the phone. A mumble replied, and two very loud shots sounded, almost as if they were from the caller. Almost immediately, the woman was back on the phone, crackles sounding once more as it appeared that she was still moving. "ADAM HERO.....DANGER..... SWAMP.......BACK UP NOW!" She shouted before the line went dead.
Okkota pressed her lips into a thin line after a long moment. She'd have enough listening to page almost the entire police force. The way she saw it, if she paged everyone - someone was bound to show up. Or many someone's, which would be better. Better page the fire department, too. They'll need paramedics. "Okay, Ma'am. Backup is on the way." The only thing she could get in between the crackles that would end the line before she could say anything else. "Backup please respond, 10-00 10-10 bayou. 10-32, 10-52. Backup please respond." There was a long pause in the radio before she'd speak again, "10-66 on Officer Hero." She was repeating herself until there was a radio break and a voice to respond. Fantastic "Yes, bayou, please respond." Her please was strained, more commanding than requesting. But feedback was assured. Squad cars and backup en route and noisily chattering for the situation details with dispatcher to clippedly repeat codes.