I pulled over a woman driving 150 km/h and issued her a ticket, but then I suddenly noticed something unusual beneath her feet.

It was just another day on duty. My partner and I were patrolling a stretch of highway known for frequent collisions, particularly where the road runs straight and tempts drivers to press harder on the gas. Everything felt routine, almost too calm.

Then a silver sedan shot past us like we weren’t even there. I gazed at the radar—150 km/h. A deserted highway, bright daylight. One might assume the driver was simply in a rush, but that didn’t justify breaking the law.

I quickly examined the plates—clean record, properly registered, not flagged. I flipped on the lights, hi:t the siren, signaling the driver to pull over. The car slowed briefly but then sped up again.

Through the loudspeaker I ordered firmly:

– Driver, stop at once! You have violated traffic rules and will deal with the consequences.

After several hundred meters, the car finally rolled to the shoulder. I exited and, following standard procedure, walked toward the driver’s side. Behind the wheel sat a young woman, around thirty.

Her face was pale, nervous, her eyes full of dre:ad.

– Ma’am, do you realize the speed limit on this highway section?

– “Yes… yes, I know…” she muttered, nearly choking.

– “Then may I see your license and registration?” I asked sternly, leaning closer to the window.

That’s when I noticed something unusual beneath her feet. On the car’s floor was…

There was liquid pooling at her feet… but it wasn’t just spilled water. I instantly understood—her labor had started.

– Ma’am… did your water just break?

– “Please… help me… I’m alone… nobody’s here…” she cried.

No hesitation. I radioed dispatch, reporting that I was escorting a pregnant woman to the nearest hospital. We transferred her into our patrol car, and I drove quickly yet carefully. Her cries grew louder—contractions were intensifying.

I held her hand, offering reassurance while barely keeping calm myself.

We reached the hospital at the very last moment. Staff were already outside—forewar:ned by my call. She was hurried into the maternity ward immediately.

Hours later, I returned—still shaken by what happened. A midwife stepped into the hallway, smiling as she spoke:

Congratulations, it’s a girl. Strong and healthy. The mother is safe, too.

Moments like these remind me why I value this job. Law matters. But compassion matters more.