A 911 call came in from a 15-year-old girl. Her mother’s boyfriend had held a gun to her and her mother’s heads inside her mother’s house. The girl had then left the residence. She was directed by the dispatcher to meet the responding police officers.

A bald, bearded, Viking-esque officer and his partner were first on the scene. We see that officer, call sign “5-11,” calmly interviewing the girl to get pertinent details about the situation, the suspect, the apartment, and her mother. He then organizes other responding police units to establish a perimeter and join his entry team.

The police enter the residence’s ground floor with 5-11 leading from the front. The officers clear the ground floor. As they proceed upstairs, another officer moves in front of 5-11, and 5-11 stops him with a simple message, “I don’t want you getting shot. This is my call.” Since the moment they entered the house, the officers have consistently identified themselves by shouting, “Chicago Police!”

At the top of the stairs, 5-11 turns right into an open bathroom. With his handgun in front of him, the officer suddenly notices the bathroom-bedroom connecting door opening toward him. A second later, he sees an armed man holding a woman hostage. He shouts for the man to raise his hands. The man does not comply. As 5-11 aims, the woman rushes through the connecting door, past him, and out to presumed safety. Only at this point does the officer engage the suspect with five shots. The suspect falls to the floor. The total time between the connecting door opening and the suspect being neutralized is six seconds.

The officer’s job isn’t done, however. He handcuffs the unconscious suspect and radios for paramedics and a police duty sergeant to attend. Only when this is completed does 5-11 give himself a few seconds to take stock. “Jesus f***ing Christ, man! Phew! Jesus f***ing Christ,” he says to a fellow officer. But then he’s back at it. 5-11 instructs the other officers to double-check that the suspect has no other weapons and to double-check the other bedrooms. He then inquires about the hostage and learns that she’s fine. 5-11 moves downstairs to meet the other responding officers. His breathing and demeanor suggest he’s in mild shock. But he keeps performing his duties without any impairment.

5-11 is able to provide necessary information and effectively directs other officers. As the moment of crisis passes, he observes that the incident “was like something out of the f***ing academy training!” When one of his colleagues asks if he wants a bottle of water, 5-11 responds, “No, I’m all good, man. I appreciate it, though. Thank you, you’re a good man.” The duty sergeant arrives and asks 5-11 how he is feeling. “A little lightheaded,” he responds. Soon thereafter, the officer returns to his vehicle. It’s now 7:26 a.m., 18 minutes after the officer first arrived. Eighteen minutes that 5-11 will never forget, and six seconds that gave an innocent woman the chance to see her daughter grow up.

IS IT REALLY THE PERFECT TIME TO BOMB IRAN’S NUCLEAR PROGRAM?

5-11’s arm patch shows he’s a field training officer, responsible for on-the-job supervision of new patrol officers. Whoever gave him that promotion surely took a moment of pride in watching what 5-11 did that day. He took a great personal risk to protect strangers skillfully. He has honored himself and his department with his conduct. Chicagoans are lucky to have him on patrol.

The suspect, Devon Smith, 43, was pronounced deceased at the hospital. You can watch police body cam videos of the incident here.