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“Are you mad at me?” Angie asked in a small voice. Mac looked at her in surprise.
“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked, honestly bewildered by the question.
“For insisting on coming along.”
He shook his head. “No,” he said simply. “My first instinct will always be to protect you, Angie. But second thoughts remind me that you’re the best backup I’ve ever had. I have to admit, that’s hard for me to get my mind wrapped around — you do not look like a Marine! But it’s true.”
She laughed at that. “So I’ve finally made squad status?” she teased.
He grinned. “Guess so. But we need to talk.” He fell silent. He really didn’t know how to begin this one.
“Give me the lead, Mac,” she ordered. “We can edit later.”
He laughed at that. “I got a call from that guy I shot — the spotter in the sniper’s nest? Name is Terrell — his first name, I think.”
Angie nodded.
“He says there’s a target list, with bounties attached. And he thinks the attacks are only going to escalate between now and the trial — trials, I guess.” They really needed to get Yesenia to lay out all of that for them as a team — and probably for their readers.
“And I suppose you’re on it?” Angie asked. “Is that where the big bucks came from for last night?”
He nodded. “The bounty, and I think Whalen contributed. All of those cops weren’t doing it because they hate me. Just McBride.” He flashed her a quick grin, and she rolled her eyes. “Most of them are in this for the money.” He hesitated and took a deep breath. “I’m not the only one on the list.”
“Joe Dunbar,” she said. “Is that why we’re heading up here?”
Mac nodded again. “Yeah, I warned him. Told him to call in sick, but he wouldn’t do it. He’s felt like he’s had a target on his back anyway. I guess it’s gotten pretty bad. So he told me to keep my phone on — it’s now a running joke between us.”
“Men,” she muttered.
Mack laughed. “So he sent me a text, saying there was trouble. But Angie....” he took a deep breath. This was hard to say. “You’re on the list too.”
“Because of the photo?”
He shook his head. “No, although they may have tossed in a few more bucks into the bounty because of the photo. But....”
“Mac! Spit it out, for God’s sake. You’re a reporter. Give me the damn lead.”
He snorted at that. “Terrell says the Police Defense Fund wants you dead because you killed Andy Malloy. They’re pissed because you weren’t charged with his murder. The murder of a cop. I pointed out to Terrell that Malloy hadn’t been a cop in a long time, and he had his finger on the trigger to kill me, when you fired. He gets that — but the Police Defense Fund doesn’t care. So you’ve got to be cautious, Angie. Promise me? No wandering around Greek Row at night looking at architecture? No riding to my rescue. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”
She reached over and patted his thigh. “I’ll stick close to you, how about that?” she asked. “It’s the safest place I know. You make me feel safe, Mac. And yes, it terrifies me to know that they’ve put a bounty on my head. But I also know you’d come for me, just like you’re going to rescue Joe. We all know that you’d come for us.”
Mac looked at her. “I might let you down,” he said. “I let Danny down.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t let Danny down. His death wasn’t your fault. It was Howard Parker’s fault. And that sergeant, the one who thought following Parker’s orders was more important than the oaths he took. You can’t save everyone, Mac. No one expects you to. It’s enough to know that you’ll try.”
Mac’s throat was dry, and it was hard to swallow. His eyes burned. He started to say something but couldn’t find the words. He shook his head.
“But Mac? Know this... we will come for you, too,” Angie said seriously. “You’re not alone either. You’ve got friends. I’ve got friends. We’re not in this alone. And I think we need to get everyone back together and talk about this, don’t you? I think the DA owes us an update. Because what the fuck?”
It caught Mac by surprise, and he laughed. She glared at him. “Not laughing at you,” he assured her. Then reconsidered. “Well, maybe. But yes, I agree. We need more information about what is going on.”
She nodded sharply, and then stared out the side window. Processing, he thought, and he let her be. He’d had a price on his head before. Knowing that someone wanted you dead — whether it was in a war, or here at home — was hard to take. They would need to talk more. And he needed to see to making their house safer — starting with a new front door.
We’re in a war zone, he thought. We need to act like it.
He glanced at his phone resting on the console. Nothing more from Joe, and that was concerning, too.
“Call Sherry Grant, will you?” he asked. “Or text her. See if you get a reply.”
Angie nodded, and pulled out her phone. She sent a text. “I’ll send something to Joe, too.”
“Better give Janet a heads up,” Mac added. Angie kept sending more texts.
Mac set it all aside. Seemed like he’d been doing that a lot over the last 72 hours — set aside his concerns and worries and focus on the problem at hand.
“You have your gun in your camera bag?” he asked.
She nodded. “And your backpack is under my seat,” she said. “I checked for it earlier.”
Mac had hated carrying a backpack when he first started at the Examiner. But truthfully there were so many reporting tools these days, it was necessary. He envied the old journalists who had a notepad and stub of a pencil in their pocket and called it good.
They had to wear ties though. Tradeoffs in everything. He wanted to snicker, but then he’d have to explain, and Angie would think he’d lost his mind.
“No response from either of them,” Angie said grimly.
Mac nodded and took the exit to the precinct building. Been this way a lot the last few days, he thought.
He turned onto the street where the precinct was located and slowed down. The building was surrounded by first responders — two ambulances, a firetruck, some police vehicles. “Call Nick,” he said, and his phone responded at the same time that Angie picked up her phone. She laughed.
“Rodriguez.”
“Nick, I just pulled up to the north precinct,” he said. “What the hell is going on? There’s ambulances, a firetruck, police? Did you know about this?”
“Just got a call,” he said. “They say it’s a hostage situation.”
“It’s what?”
“They’re claiming that Joe Dunbar has taken a woman officer hostage,” he said grimly. “They’ve called for a SWAT team. I’m on my way.”
“That’s not possible,” Mac said.
“Are you sure? Are you 100 percent sure he didn’t snap his bolt, Mac?”
“I’m not 100 percent sure I won’t snap mine in the next 30 minutes,” Mac said sourly. “But I’m more likely to do it than Joe is.” He thought about the drinking, the fact he hadn’t responded to Shorty’s call the night before. OK, Joe had been under a fair amount of stress. But this was more likely a feint to take Joe out than Joe losing it. “I think they’re trying to take him out, Nick. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Mac! What are you planning?” Nick said, alarm in his voice. Mac grinned briefly.
“Still thinking about that,” he admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll think of something. Shit, I haven’t blown anything up in months. Maybe I’m overdue?”
Angie laughed at that and reached over and ended his call while Nick was still spluttering. “I have an idea,” she said.
“Oh?”
“How about we pretend we’re reporters and put them in the newspaper?”
Mac grinned. He had a flashback to when he, Danny and Shorty had done that at the Parker House. That had been wild. He considered the proposal. He wished he had someone here to back up Angie on this. “How about you be the reporter out front, and I’m the ninja sneaking in the back door to get them out of there?”
Angie frowned. “How about we swap those two roles?” she said. “You make a bigger splash than I do. But I’m good at sneaky.”
Mac’s breath caught as he realized the enormity of the risk they were taking. Part of him wanted to grab Angie and run. Let Joe figure it out for himself. But he looked at Angie, and saw the faith in her eyes, and he knew he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t let that faith turn to disappointment that he wasn’t the man she thought he was.
Damn it.
Mac considered the challenge. They didn’t know what was going on inside the building. Didn’t know where Joe was. Didn’t know much of anything, really, except what Nick had told them.
Well? Was he a reporter or wasn’t he?
He parked in back of the building, in the employees’ parking lot. He doubted anyone would look away from the drama up front to tow him. “All right,” he said. “I’m going up front. Do the reporter thing. The building has gone dark — seems like their current operational strategy.”
Angie snickered at that, and he smiled ruefully.
“That means that the electronics aren’t working — and that affects the back door. Don’t know whether it locked it shut or open, however. At the jail, everything locked down. Stands to reason, although as Janet pointed out, that couldn’t possibly pass a check by the fire marshal. But it’s a jail. Here, my guess is the default is open — because of that fire hazard aspect. So walk up, try the door. My guess, it will open and you’re in. If not? Ping me, and we’ll regroup.”
Angie nodded. “And once I’m inside?”
“I don’t know,” Mac admitted. “Let me see what I can find out up front — leave your phone open to mine, and listen in. Based on what Shorty got, you’ll get me and anyone I’m close to, but not someone farther away. So you may have to figure out what’s going on by the questions I ask — I’ll try to word them to give you information.”
He paused and considered that. “But really? You want to find Joe and figure out why he hasn’t escaped. And then help him do that. Get to the car — we’ll leave it unlocked. Flash the lights at me.”
“Seems straightforward enough,” Angie said. She sounded a bit doubtful.
Mac grinned. “Complicated plans often fail,” he said. “I like plans simple enough even a Marine can do it.”
Angie started laughing, and she grinned at him. “You did that deliberately,” she accused him.
“Hard to be afraid when you’re laughing,” he agreed. “Give me a 5-minute head start.” He called her number and she answered it. And then he went out to be a reporter. Leaving a complete novice to do the rescue work.
Well, no that wasn’t right. She’d rescued herself in the Cascades. Rescued him at the Parker House, and again last night. For an amateur she did just fine. Heartened by that thought, Mac worked his way around the fire truck and ambulances and put himself front and center.
“Who’s in charge of this?” he asked loudly. “I’m Mac Davis, reporter for the Seattle Examiner. Who can answer questions?”
“Go to hell, Davis,” someone said. “We don’t have to talk to the likes of you.”
Mac saw the captain of the fire crew jump at the hostility in that answer. Mac got along with firefighters — adrenaline junkies all of them. Some of the most racist fucks he’d dealt with, as well, but then so were the cops.
“We’ve got a hostage situation,” Captain Abrams said formally. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Mac. We’re locking down the site to essential personnel only.”
Mac looked around at all the onlookers — a dozen officers, for starters. He was surprised Abrams had that many left. “And what steps are you taking to resolve the situation?” Mac said, ignoring the order. “Who is the hostage taker? And who is the hostage?”
“This is what comes of having Blacks in the police force,” the first officer answered for the captain. Mac saw Abram’s face turn red — anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure.
“The victim or the supposed kidnapper?” Mac asked. The officer rolled his eyes.
“For reasons unknown, Detective Joe Dunbar has taken a woman officer hostage,” Abrams said. “He wouldn’t come out when ordered. Shots have been fired, which is why we have first responders at the scene. So far we have no contact with Lt. Dunbar, nor the hostage.”
“So where is he?” Mac asked. “Where in the building?”
“He’s holding the hostage in the bathroom,” Abrams answered reluctantly. Mac was briefly amused. It never failed. Some authority ordered him gone and refused to answer questions. He just kept asking anyway, and nine times out of 10, he got answers. There was just something about a question that begged an answer.
“Which bathroom?” Mac asked.
There was silence. Then the mouthy officer said, ‘men’s’ at the same time that Abram’s said ‘women’s.’ Mac looked from one to the other. “Seems like a simple enough question,” he said. “Were you both inside when this happened?”
Abrams glared at his officer before nodding. “Yes, several officers had returned to the station,” he said. “And I was here. We’re short-handed as you already know.”
Mac nodded. “So I’ve heard. So who is the hostage? The woman who usually sits up front?” Office manager, receptionist, he wasn’t sure what her job title was.
“Yeah, Dejon,” the mouthy officer said.
“Her name isn’t Dejon, you jackass,” another officer said, rolling his eyes. “It’s Carole,” he told Mac. “With an e.”
At the same time, Abrams was saying, “Officer Sherry Grant was taken hostage.”
Mac stared at him. “So you’re saying Lt. Dunbar took a woman hostage — who may be Officer Grant, or the receptionist — whose name may be Dejon or Carole with an e — and is holding her in a restroom — maybe the men’s or maybe the women’s? That seems like a pretty vague description, Captain, for a man who was supposedly an eyewitness to this. Who fired the shots?”
Abrams hesitated. “Unknown,” he said at last.
Mac’s incredulousness was mirrored by the fire captain. “What the hell, George?” the fire chief said. “That’s a pretty jumbled set of facts. What happened when you asked him to come out?”
“We’re waiting on a SWAT team before engaging with the kidnapper,” Abrams said stiffly. “We’re dealing with a trained police officer, here, Walt. We need expert backup.” Mac studied the man. He was parroting lines, and not very well either. Mac wondered suddenly who was really in charge here.
“Usually the first backup is a hostage negotiator,” the fire captain said. Was that Walt Murphy? Mac thought it was. Good rep. “Especially since this is a fellow officer. Instead you seem to be escalating this! What gives?”
Good question, Mac thought. He was searching the crowd, however, looking for familiar faces. He was expecting McBride, and maybe he was here somewhere, Mac wouldn’t be surprised. Actually he’d be surprised if he wasn’t.
But the man he saw who stopped him in his tracks was Captain John Rourke. What the hell was he doing up here? He was on administrative leave, for one thing, and for another, he had been stationed downtown.
And he’d been Joe’s boss — Joe’s and Nick’s, before he ordered the hits on the two of them in fear they were going to talk to Internal Affairs.
Rourke saw him looking his way. He looked amused and gave him a sloppy salute before turning and walking away. Mac started to go after him.
“Who the hell is that?” the mouthy officer said angrily. “They’re getting away, out the back door — I thought it was locked!”
Mac turned back in time to see the officer pull his weapon.
NO, he screamed inside as he took four running steps in his direction. He wasn’t going to reach him in time. There were too many people in his way.
The officer pulled up his gun in textbook-approved fashion. Mac launched himself at the man, catching him from behind and taking him down as he fired. It was more of a football tackle than anything he learned in the Marines — whatever worked.
Mac heard a woman scream.
Angie, he thought in anguish.
Straddling the officer who was now laying on his back surprised as hell, Mac pried the gun from his hand, and tossed it aside. Killing him with a bullet was too easy. He wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. He closed his hands around the man’s throat.
There were shouts around him — shouts at him to back off, shouts about what the hell was the man he’d tackled shooting at, all kinds of noise from all kinds of people, and none of it mattered. This man had just shot Angie. His hands tightened.
“Mac, let go,” a voice said quietly. Mac ignored it. He knew the voice, couldn’t remember the name, but it didn’t matter. No one was going to stop him from administering justice right here and now.
Angie. He thought of her grinning at him, that swoosh of a magenta stripe in her hair — the way he’d first seen her. The color changed, but he liked the magenta best. He always pictured her with her camera bag — the thing was nearly as big as she was. For all of her sense of presence, she wasn’t very big — came to his shoulder. But she wasn’t some frail little thing — she had told him once that she’d come to terms with the word sturdy. Apparently she didn’t think it was complimentary; he wasn’t sure why. She was sturdy. And fit. Watching her in the woods in the Cascades had been a pleasure. She could probably out hike him. Girl had stamina. Images of her laughing in the Bohemian with others from the newspaper, of her listening to some story at the cop bar where Nick and the rest of them liked to go ran through his head. Her laughter, her ability to connect with people — gone? He didn’t want to believe that.
He’d seen him take the shot. Knew he’d been too late. He was crying, and he didn’t care who saw it.
His hands tightened.
“Mac, don’t,” the voice said. A male voice. Someone put his hands on top of Mac’s — not trying to pull them away, just... touch.
It was his fault. He shouldn’t have involved her. Shouldn’t have let her go inside. This asshole thought he was shooting at Dunbar, and he shot wildly in the night? He deserved to die for that alone.
The voice was saying something, but Mac couldn’t make out the words. Comforting him? Saying something. There was too much noise — too much noise outside of his head, but nothing could reach him through the roaring in his brain.
Angie.
He paused. Had this asshole been aiming at Angie — not Joe? It was possible, he conceded. Did he care? Did he want to know badly enough to let go of the man’s throat? They’d never let him have a second chance at him. If he paused to ask a question, they’d make him leave the guy alive.
He didn’t want to do that. He wanted the man dead, and dead at his hands.
And he wanted to know. Had this asshole killed Angie because of that damned bounty? He thought of seeing Rourke. There were too many damned questions.
“Mac!” The same voice said sharply. “Listen to me! Angie is not dead. Do you hear me? Angie is not dead.”
Mac looked up. Joe Dunbar was standing there, fighting off two officers who were trying to cuff him. “Do you hear me?”
“Where is she?” Mac asked. His voice was hoarse.
“She’s with Sherry in the parking lot,” Joe said. He turned to one of the officers. “Will you let me be? Or do you want to watch Mac kill that bastard? I’m actually cool with that — what about you?”
“Did he hit her?” Mac asked.
“Hit her in the calf — about where I got shot, actually. An EMT is with her. She’ll be fine, Mac. She needs you.”
Mac felt lightheaded with relief. What did you know, you actually could black out from relief — and wouldn’t that be hard to live down?
Mac bent over the officer he had taken down — “Why were you shooting at Officer Grant?”
“I wasn’t shooting at Sherry!” The officer sounded appalled. “But that gal with the streak in her hair?” He sniggered. “She’s worth gold, man.”
Mac considered strangling him anyway. But Angie was alive?
“So you admit to shooting a civilian crossing the parking lot to her car?” Another voice asked. Mac looked up. Nick Rodriguez was here.
“She came out of the precinct building! She wasn’t supposed to be in there.”
Mac got up and jerked the man to his feet. Apparently he was stupid enough to talk — well, the really stupid ones often were.
“Didn’t know a civilian being inside a police station was a capital offense,” Rodriguez said. “Didn’t know being a cop in a police station was either.”
Mac thought that might be directed at the two officers who were still trying to cuff Dunbar — unsuccessfully.
“Captain Abrams, you’re on administrative leave. In fact, your whole unit is.” Mac’s eyes widened. That was the Seattle Police Chief Moses Page. What was he doing here? “You will all report to duty Monday morning downtown. We will begin an inquiry immediately — Lt. Rodriguez will supervise.”
“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” Rodriguez said quietly. “I couldn’t find Lorde. Time to bring in the big guns. Probably past time.”
Mac swallowed. He nodded. “I need to go. I can’t do this, Nick,” he burst out. “I can’t. I can’t care about people like this. I’m too....” He searched for the word he was looking for. “Damaged. It hurts too much to care. I damned near killed him. And it didn’t bother me. Still doesn’t. If she’d died....” He swallowed again. There were still tears, but he didn’t even bother to brush them away.
When was the last time he’d cried?
For Danny, he thought. And before that?
He couldn’t remember. A memory flashed. He must have been 4 years old? His mother had left him, and he was hungry.
No, caring about people hurt like hell. He wasn’t going to do this.
Angie was in danger because of him.
“So you’re just going to walk away from the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Nick asked. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Mac.”
Mac opened his mouth to protest the label, then reconsidered.
“Takes a brave man to love someone,” Nick said. “And having kids? More courage than I’ve got — but Anna is braver than I am. They were all at risk because of who I am and what I do. And I get it. I’d rather die than see them hurt. And like you, I’d be willing to kill someone who harmed them. But walking away? That’s sheer cowardliness. You can’t do that to her — one of the finest women I’ve met.”
“I can’t.... The fear,” Mac began, then stopped. He couldn’t even get out a complete sentence. His breathing was harsh. His field of vision narrowed to just a small window on the world. He thought he was going to pass out, even still.
“Yeah,” Nick said. Mac looked at him. He knew, Mac realized. He’d been here. How did he do it? “But you can’t just disappear into the night. If you can’t do it, you can’t do it — but she deserves to hear it from you.”
Mac hesitated. She probably did, he conceded.
“And if you walk away, you walk away from everything you’ve built into a life for yourself,” Nick continued. Jesus, the man was remorseless! “Your job? Your home? Your friends? Really? You’re going to just walk off into the night and leave it all? Because you’re scared?”
“Leave the woman you love with a bullet in her leg?” Joe inserted. He wasn’t cuffed, and the officers had let him go. Chief Page had some downtown officers with him, and they appeared to be taking badges and weapons. Guess he was serious about shutting down the precinct.
“Screw all of this,” Sherry Grant said with disgust. “You can wallow in your angst later — get the hell over there. They’re going to load Angie up in the ambulance. Get moving, and you can ride with her.”
She shook her head. “She’s braver than you are, apparently. Go hold her hand.”
Mac looked over to the parking lot. He took a deep breath and nodded. He could do that.
“And Mac?” Sherry said gently. “While you’re in there with her? Picture how bleak your life would be without her — it doesn’t much matter if someone takes her from you or if you throw her away, does it? If I were you, I’d hang onto her with both hands.”
That got through. She was right. “Thanks,” he said, and then he strode off toward the ambulance. He stopped and looked back. “And that bastard admitted he knew who he was aiming at and that he was doing it for the bounty. That’s premeditated.”
“It is,” Nick agreed, looking at the officer thoughtfully. “And I’ll be happy to read him his rights.”
But Mac wasn’t paying any more attention. Suck it up, Marine, he told himself. She’s worth it. He ignored the EMTs protests and crawled into the ambulance with her.
“About time you got here,” she said, sounding a bit woozy. They had her on an IV drip — some good meds, he interpreted.
“I’m here,” he agreed, and then he blurted out, “Marry me.” Hell, if he wasn’t going anywhere, he might as well make it permanent.
She smiled at him, and it was a bit lopsided. “You trying to take advantage of me being too doped up to say no, Marine?”
Mac shuddered. “I could have lost you,” he whispered. “I can’t....”
She reached out, but the IV was in that hand, and she let it drop. “I’m here, babe,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together to the very end.”
Mac snorted. “I never planned to make it past 30, you know.” He’d turned 30 last fall. He still found that amazing.
“Well, here we are,” she said fuzzily. Mac wasn’t sure what she meant, and he didn’t really care. “Now, shut up and kiss me. Hell yes, we’re getting married.”
He did as he was told.
I could have lost her, he thought again in anguish. Something settled inside him. This had gone on too long. It was past time someone cleaned this mess up.