Trooper Martin is at a traffic light down in the Low Country when a dark blue, late-model Buick pulls up alongside him. Martin looks at the three occupants who are looking everywhere but at him. They seem not to notice his marked patrol car.

The light changes and as the cars move out, Martin gets on the radio asking for a description of suspects in a recent series of convenience store robberies.

The report comes back: "Three males in a late model Buick, dark blue in color."p>

Almost as if the guys in the Buick are tuned to the same radio frequency, they take off like a scalded cat. The trooper calls in on his radio and the chase is on.

It’s not a densely populated area but along this two-lane road there’s always the danger of a child running out into the road. The trooper keeps a sharp lookout but the fleeing suspects are doing no such thing. They are attempting to fly.

Fearful of losing the suspects, Trooper Martin draws his service weapon, and with his left hand out the window, fires three shots straight up in the air.

The fleeing bad guys think they’re shot. The driver panics and loses control. The Buick careens across a well-trimmed yard and slams into a live oak tree. Trooper Martin calls for backup from the sheriff’s department.

The guys in the Buick are shaken up but not injured. The property owner complains: "Look at what y’all done to my yard. All them tire tracks. You ruined my tree."p>

As the suspects are led off in handcuffs, the driver of the Buick looks defiantly back at the property owner: "I’ll be back to get my car."

"Sure you will," says the owner, as he throws a logging chain around the live oak and through the Buick’s front axle. "This car ain’t goin’ nowhere ’til everything’s put back like it was."