Friday morning, on 24 July, had started like any other day at The Malta Independent.

With the weekend edition fast approaching, reporters and editors were busy putting the finishing touches to Sunday stories, preparing pages, and updating our daily live blog of the trial by jury against Yorgen Fenech.

Just a few minutes past 11am, our colleague from the advertising department told the newsroom that something appeared to be happening outside.

From her office balcony, which overlooks Birkirkara Hill and the buildings opposite, she had noticed several police vehicles gathering in the street below. Being journalists, curiosity immediately got the better of us.

Within seconds, the whole newsroom had left their desks and followed her into the office, stepping out onto the balcony overlooking the road.

Looking down, we could already see three or four Rapid Intervention Unit vehicles parked outside the familiar green garage door of a man whom many of us had come to recognise over the years simply by working in the area.

We knew the garage well. Only recently it had been repainted, the bright green door standing out from the limestone buildings around it, and we had often seen a man sitting just opposite, with another man and a small dog. Directly opposite the remissa was the ramp many of us use every day to reach a space where we can park our cars.

Alongside the police vehicles stood a Civil Protection Department fire engine, while armed officers had already taken up positions outside the garage. The situation was definitely serious.

One officer repeatedly attempted to kick the green door open, but at that point nobody on the balcony had any idea what was happening or why such a significant emergency response had descended upon what was usually a relatively quiet stretch of road outside our offices.

We had barely begun trying to make sense of the situation when everything took a dramatic turn.

As most of us remained standing on the balcony, trying to work out what exactly we were witnessing, the sound of multiple gunshots suddenly shattered the morning.

For a split second there was silence among us as we tried to process what we had just heard.

I remember instinctively turning to our editor-in-chief and asking him how many shots he thought had just been fired, still struggling to comprehend that gunfire had just been exchanged just up the road from our newsroom. He reckoned there had been somewhere between eight and ten.

Instinct quickly took over. While part of the newsroom remained on the balcony, mobile phones in hand, trying to understand what was unfolding below, others moved to their desks.  

The Yorgen Fenech trial by jury was still underway, and its live blog still needed updating, even as another major story was quite literally unfolding outside our windows.

Within minutes, the first report that shots had been fired was online, while other newsroom members had shifted to photographing and filming what had suddenly become the biggest story of the day, just metres away.

By around 11.30am, the sound of sirens became almost constant as more police vehicles, ambulances and emergency responders raced towards the scene.

Officers rapidly expanded the security cordon, eventually sealing off the area from just further up the building, all the way down towards the fuel station underneath the bridge.

Our vantage point gave us a view that very few others had.

From our offices on the second floor, we could clearly see the metal garage entrance where officers positioned themselves while attempting to negotiate with the suspect.

We later learned that it was through that same entrance that two police officers had entered the internal courtyard, where they became trapped.

Events were unfolding quickly.

Eventually, journalists from other media houses began arriving, but by then police had already established an extensive cordon, restricting members of the media to the junction near the fuel station, where they remained gathered on a traffic island.

From there, they simply did not have the same view of events as we did from the balcony. The police cordon also trapped people on the other side, the hill leading up towards the centre of St Julian's.

One of our journalists and one of our editors, who happened to be outside when the area was sealed off, found themselves unable to return to the office, while police prevented civilians from entering or leaving nearby residential and office buildings.

Throughout the operation, officers repeatedly shouted at residents, and to us watching, to get back inside.

Many people had emerged onto balconies overlooking the scene, holding up their mobile phones to film what was happening directly beneath them.

At one point, we heard officers shouting instructions to their colleagues to move around the corner and secure another perimeter, concerned about another possible exit from the property.

Using a megaphone, police repeatedly informed the man that he was surrounded and instructed him to exit the building with his hands visible and to follow police instructions. Despite the repeated appeals, the suspect initially refused to leave the residence.

Although reports later emerged that the suspect's brother had fled the area, we did not witness that moment ourselves. We only learnt afterwards that he had been apprehended by police once they arrived at the scene.

We remained based in our colleague's office, keeping the balcony doors open as we continued filming, photographing and reporting developments. Others were busy uploading the same videos online and updating the story as it developed.

At one point, we could even make out the suspect's shadow moving behind one of the windows overlooking the courtyard.

The tension continued building until movement around the armed officers stationed near the metal gate leading into the courtyard suddenly intensified. Instinctively, our cameras and mobile phones were raised once again.

Then another shot rang out. Only seconds later, officers began urgently shouting for doctors already stationed nearby to come forward immediately.

From the balcony we watched fellow officers drag Special Intervention Unit officer Johann Vella from near the remissa after he had been shot in the face and neck.

Medical personnel rushed to his side without hesitation, treating him where he lay before lifting him onto a stretcher. Someone held a small white sheet above him to shield him from the scorching midday sun as doctors worked around him.

Blood was clearly visible on his face. It was the moment when the reality of the situation truly hit everyone watching from above. Vella was then rushed to Mater Dei Hospital in a critical condition, where he underwent emergency surgery.

By around 12:30pm, Birkirkara Hill had become saturated with emergency responders.

Rapid Intervention Unit officers, members of the Special Intervention Unit, district police, ambulances, Civil Protection personnel and investigators filled the street, while Magistrate Joe Mifsud also arrived on site.

Just after 1.05pm, officers positioned around the entrance to the courtyard suddenly began falling back.

Then, at around 1.12pm, the suspect finally emerged unarmed, giving himself up to the police.

From our position, we had a clear view of his surrender, something that other members of the media, restricted by the police cordon, could not see.

Three officers quickly approached him, handcuffed him and escorted him across the road before placing him inside a police vehicle. It was over.

Throughout the operation, police spokesperson Brandon Pisani provided an update to journalists gathered outside the cordon.

As those of us inside the building could not leave, our colleague who had found herself trapped outside attended the briefing before relaying the information back to the newsroom.

A second briefing followed after the suspect's arrest, providing further details about the operation, when the full picture became clear.

Police had initially been called to the area following reports that a man had allegedly started a fire beneath workers in a crane basket at a nearby construction site.

While his brother was arrested nearby, officers who went to arrest the second suspect were met with gunfire after he barricaded himself inside the property, a stand-off that lasted 90 minutes before his surrender.

By around 3pm on Friday, many of the emergency vehicles had begun leaving, although the operation was far from over.

A smaller section of the road remained cordoned off while forensic experts entered the courtyard and opened the garage door, officially beginning work at what had become a crime scene.

Police gradually began escorting residents back to their homes and allowing people to reach their parked vehicles.

When we finally left the office at around 6pm, some police officers were still on site, but the extensive cordon had long since been lifted.

Like every other evening, we drove down the same ramp opposite the courtyard where, only hours earlier, one of Malta's most dramatic police operations had unfolded.

It was only then, with the adrenaline of reporting beginning to wear off, that the events of the day started to sink in.

The frantic calls for doctors, the sight of Johann Vella being dragged from the courtyard remained difficult to shake. One thought remained at the forefront of our minds: the condition of the officer who had been critically injured before our eyes.

We had learnt that he was in a serious condition. There was welcome relief when, a few days later, officer Vella was transferred out of intensive care.

Last Sunday, John Agius, 74, was charged with a string of offences. He pleaded not guilty.