Omaha QT Shooting Shock! Officers Ambushed Inside Gas Station

What should have been an ordinary afternoon at the QuikTrip on 32nd and L Streets turned into the kind of chaotic police emergency that leaves an entire city rattled. People pull in for gas, a drink, a quick stop on their way home. No one expects gunfire. No one expects a standoff. And no one expects officers to be ambushed inside a bathroom.

But that’s exactly what happened.

The first calls came in just after lunchtime—reports of multiple officers racing toward the QT, lights pounding through the winter haze, sirens echoing off storefronts. Shoppers in the strip malls nearby stepped outside to see squad cars blocking the parking lot, officers taking positions behind vehicles, and paramedics standing by. For several minutes, no one knew what they were looking at. People clutched their bags, their drinks, their cell phones, just trying to make sense of the sudden danger unfolding ten feet from where they’d been pumping gas.

Then word began to spread: two officers had been shot.

The initial shock was followed by a press briefing delivered right outside the scene, with cameras rolling and residents lingering behind the tape. Chief Todd Schmaderer stepped up to the microphones, his face tight with the kind of frustration that comes from dealing with the unpredictable violence officers meet all too often. He confirmed that the suspect inside the gas station was dead, and that the two officers hit were expected to survive.

But then he added something that shifted the entire tone of the afternoon.

The man who died, the chief said, was suspected in another shooting earlier that same day—one at Phil’s Foodway, where a man in his fifties had been shot multiple times in the chest. It had happened around noon. Officers had been hunting for the shooter ever since.

They tracked him to the QT. They found him hiding in the restroom.

And the moment he stepped out, he opened fire.

The details of what happened inside that cramped bathroom remain murky. Police have not yet released footage, and the exact sequence of events is something investigators are still piecing together. But what is clear is that the officers never got the chance to negotiate, de-escalate, or even speak. The suspect chose violence as soon as the stall door swung open.

Inside the QT, customers were forced to scramble behind shelves and soda fountains. Employees ducked under counters. Some hid in the freezer until officers escorted them out. Others fled out back exits or locked themselves in their cars, watching as the building filled with flashing lights. Those trapped closest to the restroom recalled hearing the shots—sharp, echoing cracks that didn’t feel real until police flooded the hallway and shouted for everyone to get out.

Outside, residents watched from sidewalks and doorways, their faces tense. People who lived across the street stood wrapped in coats, murmuring to one another, trying to understand how an errand at a gas station had become the center of an armed confrontation. The QT, normally a busy neighborhood stop, had turned into a crime scene taped off from corner to corner.

The department has launched a full investigation into the shooting—both the earlier incident at Phil’s Foodway and the violent encounter at the QT. Detectives are reviewing surveillance footage, interviewing witnesses, and reconstructing the timeline that led from a grocery store shooting to an armed suspect barricading himself in a gas station bathroom. For now, they’re keeping most details close to the chest.

Still, questions linger.

Residents want to know if the suspect acted alone and whether the earlier victim survived. They want clarity about how long the suspect was inside the QT before police arrived, whether he interacted with customers, and what prompted him to open fire as soon as the officers confronted him. In a neighborhood already used to uneasy nights and sudden sirens, people are tired of feeling like danger hides in the most ordinary places.

Police presence has been heavy in the area since the shooting. Investigators moved in and out throughout the night, working under spotlights, marking shell casings, measuring distances, photographing everything. Forensic teams stayed late, combing through every inch of the hallway outside the restroom. The QT closed its doors immediately after the incident and has remained shut while cleanup crews and insurance investigators assess the damage.

One employee, who asked not to be named, said the scene inside after the shooting was something she never wants to witness again. She had been restocking the drink coolers when the shots rang out, and she described dropping to the floor so fast her knee struck the tile. Another employee had been standing beside the coffee makers and sprinted into the supply closet, locking himself inside until officers banged on the door to get him out.

Parents who were driving by at the time pulled into nearby lots to watch, afraid to keep going until they knew what was happening. A woman who had just filled her tank said she saw officers running inside with their weapons drawn and froze in place, thinking of her kids waiting at home.

Chief Schmaderer made it clear that the officers’ quick actions prevented more injuries. Despite being ambushed, they responded immediately and contained the threat before any customers were hurt. But the fact remains: two officers walked into what they thought was a containment task and walked out with injuries caused by a man determined not to be taken alive.

City residents have reacted with a mix of relief, grief, and anger. Relief that no civilians were injured. Grief that another life ended in violence. And anger that public spaces feel less safe than they used to. Many people in the neighborhood say they avoid that QT at night as it is. They didn’t expect the danger to come in broad daylight.

As investigators continue gathering information, the community waits. The shooting at Phil’s Foodway, the chase, the cornering of the suspect at the gas station—none of it feels random. People want to know what led to the first shooting, why the suspect fled to the QT, and whether he had a plan beyond hiding in the restroom.

For now, the QT remains a grim reminder of how quickly a normal day can turn violent. The smell of gasoline still lingers in the air outside, mixed with the memory of police sirens and the uneasy silence that follows tragedy.

Two officers are recovering. One suspect is dead. And an entire neighborhood is left grappling with the shock of watching a familiar corner of their daily lives become the center of a gunfight.

The investigation is far from over, and the city is waiting for answers that can make sense of the chaos that unfolded inside a gas station bathroom on an otherwise quiet afternoon.