The North Hollywood Shootout
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Friday, February 28th, 1997. Police officers watched as a man wearing dark clothing and a black ski mask stepped out through the doors of the Bank of America branch at 6600 Laurel Canyon Boulevard in North Hollywood, California. He carried what looked to the officers like an AK-47 rifle. The man, who would later be identified as Larry Phillips Jr., looked around calmly.

There was no traffic on the normally busy Laurel Canyon Boulevard. The police had rerouted it when they'd set a perimeter around the bank. Phillips didn't fire his weapon at the police. Not then. He strode back into the bank, where he would remain for several minutes. His partner, Emil Mataseraño, was still inside the vault with assistant manager, John Villagrana, gathering money into a duffel bag.

From his vantage point at the doors, Phillips would have only been able to see a small police presence waiting for the robbers outside the bank. Had he known how many police were actually there and how many would eventually show up, he may have made a different decision that day. It's impossible to know what was going through his head when he realized they weren't going to get away clean. But one thing is for sure, the pair of robbers had come prepared. And at approximately 9:24 a.m., Phillips stepped back out of the bank

With zero hesitation and barely a glance around, he raised his rifle and fired at a black and white LABD squad car parked at the intersection of Laurel Canyon and Archwood. Two police officers huddled behind the cars as bullets ripped through it. Windows shattered and the hollow thunk of metal striking metal filled the air as the spray of gunfire smashed into the vehicle. Noticing movement from his left, Phillips pivoted and fired at another black and white police car.

Officer Martin Whitfield was behind the car, and as Phillips continued firing, bullets ripped through the vehicle and struck Whitfield. His would be one of many officer down calls on that sunny Friday morning in California. As the severity of the situation dawned on the nearby officers, they would have no way of knowing that the chaos was just beginning. What followed was a prolonged gunfight between the two robbers and a host of LAPD officers.

It would last 44 minutes and over 1,500 rounds of ammunition would ultimately be fired. The robbery and ensuing shootout would forever change the way police forces all around the country operate, helping to facilitate the militarization of law enforcement. And while there's no way to truly know what was going through the heads of the two robbers as they started a war on the streets of Los Angeles, we can get close.

Although both men would die that day, we can attempt to learn what would drive them to such a brazen act by looking at what we now know about them. And we can break down the insanity that was the North Hollywood shootout. Part one, Larry Phillips Jr. Understanding any person through only a handful of their actions is a tricky prospect. Like anyone, Larry Phillips Jr. was a complex and multifaceted individual.

Had he lived to give interviews, we might have a better understanding of what drove him to the life of crime he ultimately chose. Unfortunately, we don't have that luxury. We can only look at the publicly available information on him, which is no thorough look at all. Still, his upbringing and choices as a burgeoning adult give us a glimpse into the kind of mindset it takes to battle dozens of police officers for nearly 45 minutes during a botched bank robbery.

Phillips' father, Larry Phillips Sr., was an unabashed criminal. His attitude is perfectly summed up by an interview he did with the Los Angeles Times shortly after his son was seen all over the news shooting at civilians and police officers. Phillips Sr. said that he was proud of his son. He called him a criminal genius and the bravest man in the world. With this in mind, it should come as no surprise that Jr.'s life started on rocky ground.

Sr. was an escapee from a Colorado reform hospital when Jr. was born. And since Sr. was on the run with a woman he met in the hospital, Jr. was given an alias on his birth certificate. He was born Larry Eugene Warfel in Los Angeles. He wouldn't take on the Phillips name until later in life, perhaps because he looked up to his father who eventually dropped the Warfel alias.

Philip Sr. even said that his son was a criminal because of him, saying he was like a clone of me. On Junior's sixth birthday, FBI agents stormed his house to arrest his estranged father, who was visiting. This, Sr. said, was one reason his son disliked police. His mother, who he spent most of his time with as a child, had served 10 years in prison for drug possession.

Phillips Sr. told interviewers that she had stabbed a guard with a shank while serving her time. A law enforcement file on her listed her occupation as prostitution. Given this background, it's no surprise that Phillips Jr. dropped out of high school at the age of 14. At the time, bodybuilding was gaining ground in the mainstream, and Phillips Jr. decided it would be his claim to fame.

He apparently trained at the famous Gold's Gym in Venice Beach, even though it was far away from where he was living. Before his first arrest in 1989, Phillips reportedly had a group of close friends and a longtime girlfriend. He was interested in computers and bodybuilding, but as time went by, he realized he didn't have the genetics to make it amid the stiff competition in the bodybuilding scene, and he needed money. So he set his sights on real estate,

This is where his first arrest comes into play. In 1989, when he was not yet 20 years old, Phillips was caught stealing suits from a Sears store. Presumably, he knew he needed to look the part to break into the real estate world, so he decided to take a shortcut by stealing suits. He spent three days in jail and received a 12-month probation period, but this didn't dissuade him from pursuing his goal of breaking into real estate in the booming California city.

Unfortunately, he failed to disclose his arrest on the real estate license application and he was denied the license. Still, he had come up with several schemes involving real estate that he put to use. Spending some of his time in Denver, he would post ads for vacant houses that he didn't own, accepting down payments or first and last month's rent, and then disappearing before the truth came to light. In California, he was accused of forging deeds of trust.

Caught and discharged in Denver, Phillips never showed up for sentencing. A warrant was soon issued for his arrest. In California, he managed to avoid criminal charges, but a civil suit ended with a judgment ordering him to pay $140,000 to two title companies.

Meanwhile, Phillips was staying under the radar, using numerous aliases. In fact, his half-brother even found that Phillips was using his social security number and name for one of his aliases. This half-brother, Dennis Franks, told interviewers that Phillips would often drive around wealthy neighborhoods, visualizing himself living the life he so badly wanted. Franks said that Phillips was resentful of those people who had made it,

He would study them from afar, sitting in his parked car, seething. Apparently, as time went on, the resentment grew. Phillips wanted nothing to do with the rules society put forth. Work a nine to five until you can retire at 65, scrimp and save, cut coupons. He couldn't live like that. By most accounts, Larry Phillips Jr. was smart, methodical, and manipulative. But he was also a caring son and boyfriend. He was driven.

but he seemed to have little patience for following the law and finding success the way most people did. So even though he'd had brushes with the law, he showed no signs of slowing down. In fact, his criminal career would only escalate until that fateful day in 1997, when Phillips would initiate a firefight with the LAPD. In the years since that harrowing scene in North Hollywood, journalists have surmised that Phillips was the leader of the two partners.

According to those who knew him, he was controlling and manipulative. And if he'd been looking for someone to help him on his criminal escapades, he found that partner in Emil Mataseirianu. Part 2: Emil Mataseirianu Decibal Stefan Emilian Mataseirianu was born in Romania in 1966. When Emil was 10, he and his father moved to the United States to join his mother, who had defected years earlier.

His early life is relatively uneventful. Being from a foreign country, it seems that Emil was bullied as a child. But it's not apparent if this was anything more than run-of-the-mill childhood bullying. Those who knew Matasari Agnew during his formative years say that he was well-liked, smart, and relatively easygoing. It would be simple to think he was a loner who was harboring resentments against the citizens of his adoptive country. But that doesn't seem to be the case.

at least not in his formative years. Matassa Rianyu graduated high school early and started taking electronics engineering courses at De Vrij University. Whereas Phillips' interest in computers at a young age seemed to be passing, Emil was grasping things that his peers found challenging. Emil graduated from De Vrij in 1988. That same year, he became a naturalized American citizen. It seemed that everything was looking up for him.

Around this time, he also became interested in firearms. A neighbor would often see him on the front porch, disassembling and cleaning guns. This hobby is significant because it spelled trouble for the family business. Emil's mother was running a program out of their house, caring for developmentally disabled adults. It had been a lucrative business for them, but in 1988, they received a citation for unguarded firearms left out on the premises.

it would only be the start of the problems for the business. At this point in Matassa Riaño's story, there's really nothing to indicate that he would be drawn to a life of crime. In Phillips' case, it was easy to see the mentality. He'd been brought up by parents who had struggled to toe the line, and his father, at the very least, was proud of his criminal ways. But Emil was smart, driven, and primed to start a career at computers.

Unfortunately, things didn't work out so well for Matassa Reaño and his family. He started a computer parts and consulting business, but saw little success. The bulk of his income came from the family business his mother had started.

By 1990, money troubles that included tax liens started to weigh on the family. In 1995, Emil and his mother barred against their house. Shortly after this, their business was closed due to allegations of negligence and their failure to meet fire code requirements. But by 1995, Matassa, Rianyu and Phillips were already committing robberies. So what pushed him toward the life? Plenty of people struggle with money problems and never turn to a life of crime.

It seems that Emil's frustration with life in America mirrored the attitude Larry Phillips had been cultivating for many years. An insurance agent who wrote Matassa-Riagno a policy for his car told the Los Angeles Times in 1997 that Emil ranted about the injustice of the so-called system. His anger was clear. He was fed up with the way things were done, and he was ready to do things his own way.

While it's not completely clear how or when Phillips and Matassa Rianyu met, records show that they both had memberships at the Venice Beach Gold's gym in 1989. Both men were interested in fitness and bodybuilding. Both were large men. Matassa Rianyu was six feet tall and weighed over 300 pounds as an adult, whereas Phillips was five foot 10 and weighed nearly 200 pounds.

Both were interested in guns and both were angry at the system that they perceived as keeping them down in the dirt. Whenever they met, it's clear that they recognized something in each other. While Phillips was likely the leader, both men stepped willingly into a world of violence. The botched robbery that ended both their lives wasn't their first.

And knowing what we know now about the pair's crimes, it's no surprise they refused to surrender on that February day in 1997. Part three, the high incident bandits. The first incident Phillips and Matasarianu had with law enforcement came in October 1993. Phillips was driving and Emil was in the passenger seat of a red Ford Thunderbird when a police officer pulled them over in Glendale, California.

When questioned, the two men lied about their identities and who the car belonged to. Sensing something wasn't right, the officer asked Phillips to get out of the car. When Phillips complied and stood at the rear of the car, it became clear he was attempting to conceal a weapon tucked into his waistband. Sure enough, the police officer patted him down and found a Glock 17 pistol with an extended clip. Matassa Rianyu was still in the car and the officer heard a thump sound.

Emil slipping his own pistol under his seat. The police officer changed his angle to cover both men with his weapon and waited for backup to arrive. He wasn't taking any chances. After backup arrived, the vehicle was searched, yielding a small armory of weapons.

They found two semi-automatic rifles, two .45 caliber pistols, over 1,500 rounds of ammo in 30 round clips, and 75 round drum magazines, smoke bombs, improvised explosive devices, a gas mask, body armor, sunglasses, ski masks, gloves, and several California license plates, among other items. The two were arrested and charged. The police and prosecutors realized they'd likely stopped a robbery from happening.

But since the men were initially pulled over for a traffic-related issue, they couldn't throw the book at them. They had been arrested a week before Halloween, and the men's lawyers argued that the disguises in the car were for the upcoming festivities. As for the guns, the story was that the men had been heading to a shooting range. While initially facing eight years each, the prosecutors knew it would be difficult to prove criminal intent.

So they offered lesser sentences in exchange for guilty pleas. Phillips and Matassa Reaño accepted. They both did less than 100 days in jail when all was said and done. They were then on probation for 36 months, but given their felony convictions, they were no longer allowed to have firearms. That was the pair's first brush with the law.

Their next brush was during a Brinks armored truck robbery in June 1995. And while this incident has not proven to be attributed to the pair, authorities believe it was one of theirs. The robbery happened at a bank next to a gas station. The two lots were separated by a low brick wall behind which the two robbers hid. When one of the Brinks transport officers came out of the bank after making a delivery, one robber fired on him with no warning. The Brinks hopper, Herman Cook, was 51.

He was hit several times, but managed to make it to cover around the other side of the armored vehicle. Meanwhile, one of the robbers started firing shots at the back of the truck, while his partner hopped the wall and ran toward the vehicle. Witness reports indicate that Phillips was likely the one who shot Cook and then jumped the wall. Matassa Rianyu was likely the one who stayed behind the wall, firing at the vehicle.

The truck's driver, Felipe Cortez, used a pistol port to fire on the approaching robber, reportedly hitting him in the chest. According to Cortez, the man stumbled but didn't go down, probably because he was wearing body armor. The robber then fired his rifle at the man, the bullets piercing the truck and hitting Cortez in the jaw, chest, and neck. Reaching the open side door, the robber grabbed a bag of cash and ran back to the wall.

The two robbers fled the scene in what was thought to be a Chevy Cavalier. There was about $120,000 in the bag. In the process of securing the money, they had killed one man and seriously injured another. Herman Cook succumbed to his gunshot wounds at the hospital. Cortez lived despite his severe injuries. If indeed this was the work of Phillips and Matassa Rianu, they clearly had no issue with shooting anyone who got in their way.

But this was just the first of several incidents attributed to the two men who authorities eventually dubbed the High Incident Bandits. The next robbery attributed to them came in May 1996. Of course, with so many robberies in Los Angeles in the 90s, it's possible that the two had performed other criminal acts that have never been attributed to them and remain unsolved.

But given the tactics of this robbery, it's likely that it was perpetuated by Phillips and Matassa-Riagno. Around 10:00 AM on May 2nd, 1996, the two men with semi-automatic rifles, bulky clothing, and ski masks barged into a Bank of America branch on Woodman Avenue in Van Nuys. They yelled threats at the customers and tellers shortly before Matassa-Riagno shot at the armored door between two teller stations.

At that time, the armored doors weren't built to withstand gunfire from such powerful weapons as the AK-47-style rifles the men preferred. The door opened with relative ease, damaged by the barrage of bullets. While Phillips performed crowd control in the lobby, Matassa Rianyu located the manager and forced her to let him into the vault. He also got the tellers up so they could open the separate compartments inside the vault where money was separated upon delivery.

By separating the cash into multiple locked compartments, banks could extend the time it took robbers to get at the cash or limit the amount of cash they took. By forcing the tellers to open the compartments, the two robbers cut down on the time their robbery would take. It was a smart move and one of many factors that made authorities think that these were professional robbers. They left the bank after six minutes with over $755,000 before police had a chance to respond.

But apparently, the haul wasn't enough for them to lie low for long. Less than a month later, on May 31st, 1996, the duo hit another Bank of America branch, this one in Winnetka, an LA neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley. It was 10:05 AM when they ran into the bank and immediately began shouting orders, telling people they would kill them if they moved. Once again, the division of labor was evident.

Batasarianu went and shot up the armored door to get to the tellers, but this time there was something different. During the previous robbery, the gun was semi-automatic. This time it was firing on full auto. It seems that they had illegally modified the semi-auto weapons, turning them full auto. Needless to say, Emil gained access to the vault in relatively short order. This time he only brought the bank manager and one teller into the vault and had them empty the compartments.

It's unclear why he didn't use all the tellers again. Maybe it was too much of a risk, having them all in close proximity like that. Either way, he had the two women empty the money into his bag, but he'd been expecting more. Apparently, the duo had been watching the bank for several days. They'd seen a pickup performed by a Brinks armored car and mistakenly assumed it was a drop-off.

Matassa Reaño's agitation with the relatively low hall was evident as he screamed at the manager, saying he knew there was more cash in the bank. When the two men left, they were pushing their luck. They'd spent nearly eight minutes inside and it was sheer luck that there were no police waiting for them as they came out of the building. They made out with about $794,000. They'd been hoping for 2 million.

Still, Phillips and Matassa Rianu had performed two, possibly three successful robberies in 1995 and 1996. There were some other incidents that might've been them, including an attack on an armored car in which the assailants had fired on the vehicle but were unable to stop it

But given what we know now about the men, the two Bank of America robberies in 1996 matched their modus operandi. Even if their faces weren't visible during either incident, they'd taken down over $1.5 million. But apparently, they wanted more. Did they ever plan on stopping? Were they itching for a gunfight with police? Was the 1997 robbery just one more score? We'll never know for sure.

What we do know is that the two men would shock the nation with their brazen daylight firefight. Thus far, they had been lucky, but their luck wouldn't last. It was only a matter of time before they came into contact with the police during one of their robberies. Part four, 44 minutes in North Hollywood. The high incident bandits would meet their ultimate fate on that February day due to a coincidence.

At approximately 9:15 on the morning of February 28th, 1997, Matassa Rianyu turned into the parking lot of Bank of America branch number 384. Phillips sat in the front passenger seat of the white Chevy Celebrity. That particular Bank of America branch was large, sitting in its own lot with parking spaces on the north and south sides.

It was bordered to the west by Laurel Canyon Boulevard. To the east, a wall separated the bank slot from a row of houses. Those living in the houses could look over their fences or out their back windows and see the rear of the bank. Across Laurel Canyon, there sat the Valley Plaza Shopping Center. At the time, it housed a grocery store and a couple of other businesses. Matassa Rianyu pulled into a handicapped parking spot in the northern lot, which was bordered by Archwood Street,

He and Phillips reportedly stayed in the vehicle for two minutes. No one knows what they were doing for those two minutes, but the delay, whether planned or not, would prove fatal for the two criminals. Authorities said after the horrendous ordeal was over, it was found that both men had a muscle relaxer, phenobarbital, in their systems. The assumption is that the drug would help keep them calm through the robbery.

Maybe they were taking the drug during the two minutes they sat in the car. Or maybe they were checking their weapons and going over their plan one more time. When they got out of the car and headed through the doors of the bank, an LAPD cruiser happened to be passing by on Archwood, heading toward Laurel Canyon. Officer Martin Perello glanced over at the bank and saw the two masked gunmen heading inside. Neither Phillips nor Matasirianu saw the patrol car.

Pereo alerted his patrol partner, Lauren Farrell, who looked over and tried to glimpse what kind of weapons the men were carrying. Pereo pulled out onto Laurel Canyon Boulevard, passed the bulk of the bank, and pulled into the south parking lot.

The call went out. Possible 211 in progress. The two robbers hadn't even been inside the bank for a minute yet. Phillips and Matassa Rianu grabbed a man who was at an ATM just inside the doors and shoved him inside the lobby with barked orders. One of them, it's unclear who, fired warning shots.

Both men were carrying Norinco Type 56 rifles, also known as AK-56s. They were Chinese variants of the Soviet-made AK-47 model. Both guns had been modified to be fully automatic. They yelled for people to get down. There were over 30 people in the bank, and most of them quickly dropped to the ground.

Matassa Rianyu backhanded an elderly woman who was too slow in getting down. Then he stepped over to the door, separating the lobby from the tellers. Like the other robberies, he fired his weapon at the door, obliterating the lock and gaining entry. Outside, the two police officers heard the shots fired and reported it over the radio. They were directing traffic, telling additional units where to go to create a perimeter.

Matasirianu located the assistant manager, a man named John Viagrana, and forced him to open the vault. Meanwhile, Phillips paced in the lobby, making sure none of the customers or employees moved. It had taken them less than a minute to gain control of the bank. While the robbers worked inside, more and more police were showing up outside.

two detectives, Tracy Angeles and John Krulak, hunkered down behind a small locksmith's shop across the street from the bank at the edge of the grocery store's parking lot. Most of the police outside didn't know what kind of weapons the robbers had. They assumed pistols because they were the most common weapons used in bank robberies in LA at the time. The police were told to stay out of the bank, so they all hunkered down, hiding behind trucks, their squad cars, or whatever cover they could find.

Suddenly, one of the bank's doors swung open and a man dressed in bulky, dark clothing stepped out, peering around through the eye holes in his ski mask. The police officer saw what looked like an AK-47 in his hands, complete with a bulbous drum magazine, but he didn't fire the weapon, not yet. He saw the small police presence, but didn't seem unnerved by it. He was calm as he looked around.

Of course, he had no way of knowing just how many police were waiting for him and his partner. He only saw a couple of squad cars. He stepped back into the bank, proceeding to hit a customer in the face who wasn't looking directly at the floor. Then he threatened a security guard who was on the floor, telling him to be ready to move the customers into the vault.

Meanwhile, Matasarianu was not happy with what he was seeing in the vault. The day's cash shipment hadn't come in yet. The bank had started to vary delivery times because of the high number of bank robberies. At one point, the assistant manager was sure he was going to die. Matasarianu thought he was lying about the cash shipment. Luckily, the man made it through the ordeal with only minor injuries.

Taking what was there, including a couple of unseen dye packs, Matassa Rayanew loaded up the bag and dragged it out to the lobby. Seeing his partner coming out, Phillips ordered the security guard to get everyone into the vault. What happened between the two men next is unknown. Presumably, Phillips told Matassa Rayanew that there were cops waiting outside.

and at approximately 9:24 a.m., Phillips stepped back outside the bank and opened fire on the squad cars he could see. The sheer power of the gunfire made the police realize that they were extremely outgunned. Bullets ripped through the squad cars, creating shrapnel that injured officers and civilians alike. The bullets themselves also found targets, tearing through the flesh of those hiding for safety.

While Phillips engaged the police, Matasir Ianyu remained inside the bank for four minutes. What he was doing during that time is up for debate. Officer William Lance, who had just five days on the job, was struck in the knee by a bullet as he tried to move to a different vantage point. Officer James Zborovan, only six weeks out of the academy, was holding an Ithaca Model 37 shotgun loaded with buckshot.

He was taking cover across the street from the bank, behind the small locksmith shack where people could get keys copied. When Phillips turned to fire on other officers, Zborovan saw his opening. He pivoted around the shack, pumping one of four shells into the chamber. He lined up the shotgun sights on Phillips' back and fired, then racked the slide and fired again quickly. The shots had little effect on Phillips, who was almost fully clad in body armor.

but one of the 18 pellets fired in the two shots hit a gap in the armor, burying itself in Philip's buttock. All the gunman did was stumble. Then he turned around to fire at the officer who had just unloaded on him with the shotgun. He opened up on the key shack and the police officers hiding behind it.

The flimsy wooden structure did little to prevent the bullets from crashing through, and Phillips reportedly fired about 100 rounds at the structure. Zborovan, realizing that the two detectives with him didn't have armored vests on, threw himself over Detective Tracy Angelus. Mere moments later, rounds hit him. He'd been hit three times and was losing blood quickly as Phillips turned his fire on another squad car, giving the officers behind the key shack a moment to breathe.

Knowing he had to get the injured officer to safety, Detective John Krulak ran with Zborovan away from the bank. Phillips spotted them and turned his fire back in their direction. They had to take cover behind vehicles in the parking lot. Glass rained down on them as windows shattered. The two officers hiding behind the key shack, one of which was Tracy Angelus, knew they had to find better cover. They ran, alerting Phillips, who fired on them. Tracy Angelus tripped, losing her pistol and radio.

Bullets hit the asphalt all around her, but the gunfire was once again drawn by Krulak and Zaborovan, likely saving her life. Krulak and Zaborovan finally made it across the parking lot and through the glass doors of a dentist's office, which shattered from gunfire moments before the men barged through.

While Krulak guarded the door, Zaborovan stumbled up the stairs where his cries alerted the dentist, Dr. Jorge Montes, who got the man into his office and went to work on his wounds. Krulak was also injured. And once Montes did what he could for Zaborovan, he looked at the detective's injuries. A chunk of metal, perhaps a ricochet, had struck Krulak in the ankle. Afraid it might be in the bone, Montes opted to not remove it for fear he would do more harm than good.

Back on the streets, police officers with 9mm pistols and Ithaca shotguns fired at Phillips when they could, but nothing seemed to do much damage. They were seriously outgunned. Phillips had pouches on his belt that held more high-capacity magazines, so he was able to lay down consistent fire. As more and more officers closed in on the area, the scene was in complete chaos.

While the officers who had made the initial 2-1-1 call had seen two men entering the bank, they had no way of knowing if there were any other accomplices around. The way the sounds of gunshots echoed around the buildings added to the confusion, making it hard for officers on scene to pinpoint the source of the shots. Initially, there was also a lack of coherent command. Officers banded together around the bank, waiting for the big guns to arrive.

SWAT had been alerted, but unlike in movies, SWAT response is generally not very fast. The specially trained police officers had to gather, gear up and get information. And they specialize in taking out suspects barricaded in buildings. A gunfight on the streets of Los Angeles with fully automatic weapons was not something that happened often at the time. Certainly, there were far fewer mass shootings in those days than there are today.

In 1997, the Columbine shooting was still two years away. Soon, Phillips walked back into the bank. He was inside for approximately two minutes before both he and Matasaryanu stepped into an ATM alcove where they both continued to fire on police. By 9:30, both gunmen stepped outside, dragging the bag of money between them.

Phillips then shouldered the bag of money and moved around the corner of the building into the north lot. He dropped the money bag, which contained over $300,000 by the getaway car, then moved to the trunk. He discarded the empty ammo pouch belt and donned a new one. Meanwhile, Matassa Rayanu was still in the ATM alcove, laying down suppressing fire.

About 30 seconds after Phillips rounded the corner toward the Chevy Celebrity, Matasariyanyu followed suit. But as he came around the building, a bullet hit him with a glancing blow above the right eye. He went down to one knee in front of the Celebrity and put a hand to the wound, which had surely made seeing out of that eye impossible. Phillips continued to engage police officers from the north parking lot, moving back and forth, taking cover behind vehicles and around walls.

Matasariyanyu, however, got into the driver's seat of the celebrity and remained there for the better part of 20 minutes while his partner shot at police and civilians. Whether he was just waiting for Phillips to come join him in the car is unclear. It's also possible that Phillips, by this point, was determined to take the fight to the death. No matter the cause, 20 minutes passed with Phillips shooting at police officers who were trying their best to put him down and end the fight.

Several officers reported shooting at Phillips and seeing his clothing move with the shots, but there was little reaction from the man. By this time, there was so many officer down calls, so much confusing and contradictory radio chatter, and so many calls for SWAT teams that no one at the LAPD headquarters in Parker Center really knew what was going on. Police and news helicopters arrived on scene, only to be shot at by Phillips, forcing them to keep their distance.

but more police were closing in. SWAT teams who had been stuck in LA traffic were drawing near. And a group of police officers had gone to a nearby gun store to commandeer rifles that were comparable to the ones they were up against. The store owner let them take whatever they wanted. Phillips switched from AK-56 to a Heckler and Koch Model 91, using the new gun for several minutes, even though he didn't have large drum magazines for it.

While he was using this weapon, Phillips was struck in the left hand, the bullet breaking his thumb. Another shot soon thereafter damaged the H&K Model 91. He then retrieved another Norinco 56 and, despite his injured hand, soon resumed firing. Matasirianu pulled the Chevy Celebrity out of the parking spot, ready to move even though the car had two flats. The two men moved haltingly toward Archwood at the north end of the parking lot.

Phillips fired many rounds while Matasirianu drove the car slowly and fired from inside occasionally. It seems that Matasirianu expected Phillips to get into the vehicle because he opened the passenger side door for him. Soon after, Phillips pushed it closed using the Chevy as cover and often firing over its roof. Phillips moved toward the parking lot exit on his feet while his partner drove.

Amid a flurry of gunshots, Phillips jogged away from the celebrity and onto the sidewalk bordering Archwood, heading away from Laurel Canyon Boulevard. He moved behind a large semi-truck and trailer parked at the curb, firing at police in all directions. Matassa Rianu followed, driving out of the parking lot and onto Archwood, passing the parked truck and likely expecting to meet Phillips on the other side. But Phillips stopped and came around to kneel behind the truck.

During this time, best guesses have him being shot twice, one through and through, and one serious wound that shattered his right collarbone. Apparently giving up on sticking with his partner, Matasirianu continued slowly down Archwood. There he would soon try to stop several vehicles in order to steal them and get away. The two men had been separated,

As Phillips crouched behind the truck trailer and between an abandoned and bullet-riddled police cruiser, he tried to clear a jam on his modified Norinco rifle. Apparently unable to fix the jam, especially with one injured hand, Phillips discarded the gun and pulled a Beretta 92 out of a shoulder holster.

There were several police officers down the street at the residential intersection of Archwood and Agnes Avenue, several of which had fired on Matasaranyu as he drove past in the Celebrity not long before. Phillips moved toward them, firing two shots from his Beretta. He then took a glancing blow to his right hand, barely a scrape, really, which caused him to drop his gun. By now, he had been wounded nine times.

The injury to his right collarbone was the most serious, and he was bleeding severely under his body armor and dark clothing. He bent down and picked up the dropped Beretta with his left hand. He tucked the barrel under his chin and then pulled the trigger, sending a bullet up through his mouth and into his brain. He died immediately, falling to a heap on the ground between the road and a wall bordering the house at the corner of Archwood and Agnes.

Footage from the scene captured the movement of the ski mask as the bullet blasted an exit wound in the top of his skull. Officers continued firing at him, hitting his body several times. Phillips was dead at 26 years old. Only Matasaranyu remained, yet his time was ticking quickly away too. Several times Matasaranyu attempted to stop civilian cars as he drove away from the bank. The police had set up a cordon, but they didn't have enough manpower for every single intersection.

So Matasaranyu soon found himself approaching vehicles that didn't have flat tires and bullet holes. But every time he tried to steal one, he was thwarted by their drivers. He rammed one car to get it to stop, which it did. But as soon as the driver caught sight of the hulking masked man and the celebrity, they drove off down the road. The smart move.

Finally, Matasaranyu managed to stop a vehicle, a Jeep Gladiator belonging to a man named Bill Maher. Unable to get past the celebrity, Maher wasn't sure what to do. He put the vehicle in reverse, but when Matasaranyu fired at him, Maher acted quickly, exiting his vehicle and running for cover. He suffered injuries to the arm, nose, and temple. Matasaranyu then transferred a couple of guns to the Jeep and entered the vehicle.

But before he could figure out how to fire up the jeep, which had a boost pump that needed to be turned on, a cruiser containing SWAT team members came to a screeching halt next to the vehicle. Matasaranyu clambered out of the jeep and around to the adjacent celebrity, putting Mar's gladiator between him and the police officers. What followed was approximately 1 minute and 44 seconds of traded gunfire.

Matasaranyu crouched at the hood of the Chevy Celebrity, firing through and around the Jeep at the officers, who crouched behind their squad car and fired back at the robber. During this firefight, Matasaranyu was struck many times, but the decisive wounds would come when the police officers began firing at the criminal's feet from underneath the vehicles.

He took shots or shrapnel to the thigh, knee and ankle areas. Still, he continued firing at police, crouching awkwardly on half-destroyed legs. The final wounds that would solidify his surrender and eventual death were shots to his forearm. Shortly after bullets shredded his arm, he dropped the AR-15 he'd been firing and put both hands up.

Whether unable to see this or unable to believe it, the police continued firing at him, striking him several more times. When all was said and done, Emil Matasaranyu would have 29 wounds on his body, a combination of direct gunshots, ricochets, and shrapnel wounds. The media reported that he'd been shot 29 times, which is not strictly true. Still, the amount of damage he took before surrendering would spell his doom.

He was bleeding badly when the police surrounded him, kicking away his discarding weapon and cuffing him. He would die from his wounds after over an hour of lying on the street. Although an ambulance was nearby, Matasaranyu never received medical care. And a lawsuit later filed by his family claimed that this was done on purpose by police. The suit never went anywhere and the family eventually ceased pursuing it.

The police didn't know at the time whether there were any other gunmen around, and it was common practice to not let medical personnel onto an unsecured scene. Plus, there were police officers and civilians in need of medical care who, presumably, got first priority over the man who helped inflict their injuries. Matasaranyu was reported to have told police to shoot him in the head when they asked him questions about other gunmen. Even cuffed and bleeding to death, he wasn't ready to cooperate.

He was 30 years old when he expired on the streets of North Hollywood, a third of a mile from where Phillips took his own life. Still, it wasn't clear then whether there were any other gunmen to worry about. 911 calls from the neighborhood continued to pour in as paranoia reigned. Several hours passed before things loosened up and the police determined that the two suspects were the only culprits. What would become known as the North Hollywood shootout was over.

But the shock waves of the shootout would make police forces around the country realize that they had to change tactics. The televised confrontation was the catalyst that led to patrol officers carrying AR-15s in their patrol cars, just in case something like that happened again.

Now police officers in every major police force are trained to fire AR-15s. There was also some changes made to handguns, allowing officers to carry .45 caliber weapons instead of the small 9mm pistols officers were armed with that day in Los Angeles. Miraculously, no one but the two gunmen died in the skirmish that day. Although many people were injured, some of those affected by the morning's events would never be the same again.

The trauma of the North Hollywood shootout would live on in the minds of those who were there. 12 police officers and six civilians were injured that day. But thanks to the quick thinking of both police officials and civilians, none of them died.