The footage opens mid-motion.
The AXON Body 3 camera shakes violently as the officer runs toward a crashed black sedan sitting sideways on a wet asphalt road. Rain glistens under flashing red and blue patrol lights. Steam pours from beneath the crumpled hood, rising into the cold night air.
The timestamp glows in the top right corner: 02:14:33 AM.
“Driver! Show me your hands!” the officer shouts.
The wide-angle fish-eye lens distorts the scene — patrol lights stretching across shattered glass scattered on the pavement. The engine hisses loudly. One headlight flickers before going dark.
The driver-side door suddenly jerks open.
A man in his late 20s stumbles out, nearly falling as his foot catches on the twisted frame. He’s wearing a dirty white tank top, baggy blue jeans hanging low at the waist, and black sneakers soaked from the rain. His short buzz-cut hair is damp, and even in the flashing lights, a small scar is visible on his right cheek.
He looks disoriented.
Frantic.
He glances back at the smoking engine, then toward the patrol units blocking the road behind him. The bodycam microphone captures his uneven breathing.
“Don’t move! Let me see your hands!” the officer commands again, closing distance.
The suspect raises his hands halfway — then drops one to steady himself against the car. He stumbles sideways, slipping slightly on wet pavement. Broken glass crunches under his shoes.
The officer’s footsteps splash through puddles as he approaches cautiously. The lens distortion exaggerates the closeness of everything — flashing lights bleeding into the frame, reflections bouncing off rain-slick asphalt.
“On the ground! Now!”
The suspect hesitates for half a second too long.
He looks left.
Then right.
As if calculating.
The steam from the engine thickens, drifting between him and the camera. Sirens echo faintly in the background as backup units arrive.
Suddenly, the suspect takes a step backward.
“Don’t do it!” the officer yells.
The man’s balance fails him before he can make a move. His knee buckles, and he drops hard onto the pavement, catching himself with one hand. He grimaces, breathing heavily.
Within seconds, the officer closes in, grabbing his arm and guiding him flat onto the wet road.
“Hands behind your back!”
The suspect doesn’t fight — but his head keeps turning, scanning the scene wildly as if expecting someone else to appear. Rain mixes with sweat on his face. The flashing blue and red lights reflect in his eyes.
Metal cuffs click into place.
The camera tilts downward as the officer secures his wrists. The suspect mutters something inaudible, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Behind them, the wrecked sedan continues to hiss and smoke, hazard lights blinking faintly. Debris litters the roadway — plastic fragments, pieces of bumper, streaks of fluid mixing with rainwater.
Backup officers rush past into frame. One moves toward the vehicle to check for additional occupants.
The timestamp continues blinking.
02:14:47 AM.
The officer lifts the suspect carefully to his feet. The man stumbles again, clearly shaken from the crash. His white tank top is streaked with grime and road residue.
As he’s led toward the patrol unit, the camera captures one last look at the totaled sedan — twisted metal illuminated under pulsing emergency lights.
What started as a high-speed pursuit ended in seconds.
And every moment was caught on camera.
