Tonight, on my way to Bible study of all places, I found myself a bit too close for comfort to a frightening police bust at a red light in Northern Virginia.

My car was the second in line in the center lane of three. The first signs of trouble were audible — a honking horn from the rear and to the right, and then the sound of cars crashing. I looked to my right and saw the small red truck next to my car sandwiched between a large SUV in front and another car in the rear.

At first I thought I was just witnessing an accident, but then I heard shouts: “Get out of the car! Get out of the car!” Men brandishing pistols, dressed in black and wearing masks appeared in my peripheral vision. I feared that I had been caught in the middle of a gang hit because of the forced accident.

It wasn’t until more masked men with weapons poured from the SUV in front of the truck that I saw the word “POLICE” on bullet-proof vests. At least eight to 10 officers, all with weapons drawn, surrounded the truck from the front and rear. That’s also when I noticed the police lights flashing in my rearview mirror and realized I was witnessing a planned bust.

The police car had intentionally forced the red truck into the unmarked SUV first in line at the traffic light in order to trap the occupants. And there I was, stuck next to a truckload of suspected criminals, with police officers screaming and waving weapons.

I wanted to bolt through the light, which had turned green soon after the impact of the cars, but one officer appeared to be waving me through while another officer’s hand signals were saying the opposite. I briefly wondered whether I was about to be mistaken for a partner in whatever crime had been committed.

A few seconds later, I eased through the intersection and into our church parking lot, not 100 yards from where the bust occurred. I definitely had prayers of thanks to offer tonight.