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Part four in a behind-the-scenes look at covering a huge manhunt for cop-killer fugitives Robert Matthew Mason, Jason Wayne McVean and Alan “Monte” Pilon, in the Four Corners region of southeastern Utah in May 1998. Rising early, we drive back to the first roadblock. Staffing it are the four officers who nearly shot us last night. They check our IDs again and start joking, “To get through, you’ve got to give us some food.” “How about some donuts, guys?” I ask. “Donuts!” says a cop with a machine gun. “Listen to this guy!” “No, really,” says the reporter. “I’ve got a box of donuts!” There’s not much to shoot at the roadblocks so we drive 60 winding canyon miles to Cortez, Colorado. It’s the town where this all started, where the first cop was murdered. At the hospital we ask a group of nurses where the two wounded officer’s rooms are. They tell us the room number and as we walk to the room they start wondering who we are (my two cameras probably don’t help our anonymity). They stop us and say they’ll go ask if it’s OK to visit the injured men. The word comes back from both rooms: No. We protest further and a nurse gets a doctor to ask one officer while another nurse tells us we need to leave. The doctor comes back with the word that it’s OK to talk to one of the wounded officers, But no cameras. I follow anyway and sit on a chair just outside the room. Maybe they’ll let me get something. Officer Todd Bishop tells his story. He responded to the area where the cop-killers had been spotted. As he drove around the neighborhood they pulled out right behind his patrol car. He looked back and saw a man in the passenger seat wearing an army helmet and pointing an SKS assault rifle at him. The man fired. Officer Bishop stepped on the gas as a hail of bullets stormed into his car, one lodging in his head. His girlfriend said, “It’s still in there, see?” and she pulled his hair out of the way to show us. There were a lot of flowers around the room, left by well-wishers. I asked if I could get a photo of flowers. Officer Bishop agreed to a photo of himself in his hospital bed. It was a great exclusive. No one else had talked to him. We returned to our hotel to send the photo and story. We hung around Blanding for the night, in case anything broke on the story. The next day we returned to Salt Lake City. part one, Four Corners Manhunt part two, Four Corners Manhunt part three, Four Corners Manhunt

Part two in a behind-the-scenes look at covering a huge manhunt for cop-killer fugitives Robert Matthew Mason, Jason Wayne McVean and Alan “Monte” Pilon, in the Four Corners region of southeastern Utah in May 1998. At midnight, we drive back to the police roadblocks in the desert around Hovenweep. We get through the first roadblock after they check our IDs and look through the car. We continue on into the desolate wilderness, driving through the pitch darkness on twisty dirt roads. There is not a light to be seen and there is no telling where the cop-killers are. I keep imagining scenarios where they jump in front of our car and hijack us. A Highway Patrol SUV drives slowly past us. As soon as it passes it flips around behind me, kicking up a cloud of dust. In front of us, a police cruiser comes out nowhere, blocking our path with red and blue lights flashing. I stop as our car is flooded with spotlights. The cops jump out of their cars and pull their guns on us. “Driver! Get out of the car slowly! With your hands in the air!” I do as they say and see an assault rifle and pistol pointed directly at my chest. It is one of the strangest moments in my life. I am filled with intense excitement and a sort of joy. Fear is there, but in the background. I immediately regret that for my own safety I can’t photograph the moment. They get the reporter out of the car and have us turn around slowly to visually check us. Then they move in to check our IDs. A cop holds a gun to my chest while he looks at the press ID on a necklace outside my shirt. As we’re checked out two more officers emerge from the roadside ditch, where they had been training submachine guns on us. Once they know we’re with the Tribune, a cop with an assault rifle says, “Which one of you is (name retracted)? He wrote an article about me and I’ve got a few things to say to him!” Luckily that’s not the reporter I’m with this time. We drive on and hit another roadblock where a similar ID check, without the gun pointing, takes place. Around my neck I’ve got my Tribune press pass as well as a phony backstage pass for the ridiculous heavy metal band Piledriver that I wear as a joke. The officer looks at my press pass, but doesn’t know what to make of the Piledriver pass. He stares at it for a long time but doesn’t say anything. They get us out of our car to wait for the sheriff, who is driving over from the search HQ to talk to us. As we stand in the dark, moonless night, the reporter tries to make small talk with the officers. They don’t answer to anything. “Are you guys with the rangers?” the reporter asks. No answer. One of the officers gets irritated with the questions. “I’m not trying to be rude,” he says. “I just don’t want to talk to you.” The moonless desert sky is lit up with a million stars. A helicopter is flying overhead using an infrared device to locate the fugitives. It flies over us but is invisible even with the stars. The sheriff comes along and answers our questions. This late-night trip doesn’t amount to much, and our deadline has passed long ago. We head back to Blanding to sleep. part one, Four Corners Manhunt part two, Four Corners Manhunt part four, Four Corners Manhunt