Chapter 3

What the hell? Rory gritted his teeth as the woman’s voice ricocheted off the brick and glass canyon of the street. That voice didn’t belong to Jessie, the only female member of the SWAT team. “Alpha team leader to command.”

“Go.” Dutch didn’t sound upset.

“Who’s on bullhorn?” He schooled his voice.

“Negotiator.”

Oh, hell no! The words he didn’t say out loud bounced around inside his head like her voice over the bullhorn. He swallowed his irritation even though his gut twisted when he heard her voice again.

“Please, I’d really like to speak with you.”

Something clicked in his earpiece. An unfamiliar voice growled, “Yeah, bitch. What the hell do you want?”

Dutch had activated the link so Rory could hear the exchange between this Dr. Burns chick and the perps. He glanced over to New Boy. The kid hadn’t moved. Interesting that Dutch kept the exchange semi-private. Rory settled in to listen.

“My name is Dr. Burns, not ‘bitch.’ Please show me the same respect I am showing you. What name shall I call you by?”

“They call me Music Man.” Boasting. Rory envisioned Dutch running the name through the gang unit’s database.

“Interesting nickname. Are you a singer? A musician?” Rory’s gut clenched again. She sounded so naïve, and that fact was rammed home as the gangster’s laughter echoed in his earpiece.

“I make the girls sing, bitch. Just like I’m gonna make you sing if I ever get my hands on you.”

The hackles on the back of Rory’s neck actually bristled, and he bit back a growl.

“Dr. Burns if you please, Music Man. And I doubt I’m your type. I’m plain old white bread, and I suspect you are used to far more exotic flavors.”

Rory grinned in spite of himself. The doc might be all soft voice and politeness, but maybe she wasn’t as naïve as he’d thought. He heard the banger stammer and swallowed his laughter as the guy’s response whispered in his ear.

“D’uh...huh?”

The blinds twitched and a face peered between the slats.

“Target acquired.” Rory’s voice whispered through the microphone. He heard Dr. Burns gasp, followed by Captain Davis’s quiet affirmation.

“Music Man, you need to listen to me.” The doctor sounded flustered and a bit desperate. Not a good sign. “This thing is going to escalate out of control. I want to make sure everyone gets out of this in one piece. Okay?”

“Ha, bitch. Shows what you know. You think the cops’ll let me ’n’Big Tee walk out of here?”

“If you don’t hurt anyone, things will be easier.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No, it’s not. Right now, you and Big Tee are looking at minor charges. If you hurt one of the hostages, then—”

Wailing echoed in Rory’s earpiece right before Music Man yelled, “SHUT UP!” The static of dead air hummed in his earpiece. The perp had hung up and the face disappeared from the window.

“Lost target.”

“The baby is crying.” Jessie’s voice sounded a little tense. “We can hear it from here.”

His chest tightened and Rory forced slow, measured breaths to loosen the strain. Babies cried, often for no reason. There’d been no sound of gunfire from the shop. What had been incessant phone rings, as the doctor attempted to reestablish contact, faded to silence. Dutch likely cut the link to keep from annoying the team.

“Music Man? Please answer the phone.” Dr. Burns’ voice boomed through the bullhorn. Long moments later, she tried again. “Music Man, why don’t you let the baby and its mother go? Things will be calmer and that’s a good-faith show for the police.”

The gangster picked up the phone, and his voice snarled through Rory’s earpiece as he answered. “Fuck you, bitch. I’m gonna kill the kid if it don’t shut up.”

“Music Man, please think this through. Babies cry. They can’t help it. Let the baby go, okay?”

The front door opened abruptly. Unseen hands shoved the stroller out. Before anyone could react, the door closed, and Scotty darted from his hiding place. Like a pro-football running back, he swooped in, grabbed the bawling toddler, and sprinted for the safety of the command post.

Rory kept his eye glued to the scope, desperate to cover his best friend. He didn’t loosen his finger on the trigger until Scott and the child were safely under cover. Only then did he glance over at New Boy. The man was tense, his finger curled tight on the trigger.

“Stand down.” The other sniper ignored him. “Carter, look at me.” He kept his voice low but compelling, the whip of command inherent in the tone. The other man didn’t move except to tighten his finger on the trigger. “Carter! I said stand down. Release the trigger.”

“Carter?” Captain Davis tried to contact New Boy, too. When he got no reply, he called Rory. “Alpha team leader, status?”

“Tango two froze.” Stuck between a rock and hard spot, Rory swore under his breath. He couldn’t get up and knock some sense into Carter. He had to stay focused on his primary mission. Dammit, if Carter screwed up this incident, Rory would personally take the guy apart. He lifted his head slightly, to look around for something to throw then realized that could be a bad idea. If he startled Carter, the man might pull the trigger out of reflex.

“Carter.” He ground out the two syllables. “CAR-TER.” Rory heard the other cop take a breath. He exhaled his own. “Stand down, Carter. Disengage.”

“No.”

“That’s an order, Carter.” The captain’s voice cut in. “Secure your weapon and return to the command post.”

Rory listened, with furtive glances to confirm the sounds. Carter ejected the bullet in the breach and removed the clip from his rifle. He disassembled the tripod, grabbed his pack, and shimmied backward from the edge of the building. At least he did that part right. Once he was far enough from the building parapet so he couldn’t be seen from across the street, he stood and marched to the stairwell door. He darted into the shadows of the doorway without a word.

“Good riddance.”

“Say again, Tango One?” Dutch’s voice whispered in his ear.

Had he really said that out loud?

“Tango Two is headed to the command post.”

“Roger that.”

The sun shifted farther toward the western horizon, its light glinting off the windows of the shop below.

“Alpha two, do you have a visual?” Rory could only hope that Scott had a better view.

“Negative, Alpha One.”

Damn. Dr. Burns tried periodically to reestablish contact with the perps but there’d been none since the toddler was shoved out. She was quiet at the moment and Rory was glad. When her voice murmured in his ear, his body did funny things. His brain shifted from the job to thinking about more pleasurable pursuits. He didn’t even know what she looked like but his libido didn’t care. His shaft swelled with every breath she took, the microphone picking up every blessed erotic sound she made, and his imagination supplied the pictures of her breasts rising and falling.

A drop of sweat escaped from the band of his cap and trickled between his eyes. He squiggled his nose until the sweat dropped off the end of it. Shadows crept across the roof deck. In a few minutes, he’d be in shade and would have a view through the shop windows below.

“Yo, Doctor Bitch.”

Rory’s finger jerked where it lay next to the trigger guard, and he breathed through the reflex. He wanted to shoot the sonavabitch simply for calling Dr. Burns names. What the hell was going on in his head?

“You know my name, Music Man. There is no need to be rude.” Her soft voice went straight to his groin, and he could almost feel her words caress his erection. He shifted slightly, trying to find a position that wasn’t painful.

“Whatever. We’re hungry.”

“I’m sure you are. How are the hostages?”

“Hungry, too, only I’m gonna start carvin’ ’em up for food if I don’t get a pizza or somethin’.”

“Really? Raw human flesh is full of bacteria and not at all like eating a rare steak.”

Rory choked, and recognized the sounds of his other team members doing the same through his earpiece. The doc had some serious balls. Music Man didn’t respond for a moment and no wonder. How did a guy from the hood answer that?

“What the hell, bitch? Talk English. Get us something to eat or I’m gonna mess up this little momma and then throw her bleeding body out and shoot her.”

“You don’t want to do that, Music Man. The only thing standing between you and the death penalty is the health and well-being of those people.”

The blinds twitched, drawing Rory’s eye to the movement. A big man, with a cordless phone pressed to his ear peered out between the slats. Sunlight no longer blocked his view of that section.

“I have target.”

“Maintain target. You do not, I repeat, you do not have a go.” The captain’s voice left no room for argument.

Rory couldn’t decide if he was pissed or relieved. As he stared through the scope, all he saw was the face of a thug who went through life intimidating and hurting people. He didn’t see green eyes wide with fear despite the laugh lines at their corners. He didn’t see the plump, middle-aged cheeks and wide forehead fringed with dark hair. He shoved that memory away. That ghost had no place here. Not now. Now he had a job. Four lives depended on his rock steady nerve. He inhaled slowly. Four innocent lives. Truth be told, six lives depended on him, and on Doc Burns with the hypnotizing voice.

She gave the thug time to reflect, and when he didn’t smart off to her, she continued. “My goal here, Music Man, is to make sure everyone walks out alive and healthy. You and Big Tee haven’t hurt anyone, right?”

“Yeah.” At least the banger sounded thoughtful.

“There’s still a chance to get out of this. Right now, the only charges are attempted robbery and unlawful detention. You can do the time standing on your head, right? But if you hurt anyone, if they die, what happens? You’ll be facing murder charges.”

“If I’m lookin’ at kidnapping, those sumbitches better just shoot me now. I ain’t doin’ that kinda time. An’ I damn sure ain’t goin’ down for murder!”

“Then think about it, Music Man. Think long and hard. You don’t have to hurt those people. You don’t have to go out in a blaze of gunfire. It’s an ugly, painful way to die. What would your mother say? Do you want her crying over your casket?”

“You leave my momma outta this.”

“I can’t, Music Man. What you do here…what you do now affects not only you but the people in that shop. Your family. Their families. Friends. It’s like tossing a pebble into a pond. Those ripples just keep spreading.”

“Talk normal, bitch. You sound like one o’them shows on PBS or somethin’.”

“Your actions, Music Man, aren’t all about you. But it’s up to you. You control what happens. You can stop it now. Or you can take the consequences.”

The man said nothing for long minutes but he didn’t hang up. Maybe everyone would walk away in one piece today. Voices hummed in the background, both deep but one highly excited. Music Man and Big Tee talking over their options.

“What do we get if we let these bitches go?”

“I can’t make deals, Music Man. That’s up to the DA. But, no one leaves in a body bag if you let them walk out. And if you put your guns down and follow them.”

The male voices hissed and popped in his earpiece. He caught the words “get away,” “car,” “hell.” Through the entire exchange, the shadow of the big body didn’t move from the window, though his face disappeared when he wasn’t talking directly to the doc. The face reappeared.

“Here’s how it’s gonna be. We send out the whiny old bitch and one other. But me n’Tee are keepin’ the other two. We want a car. We’re gonna drive outta here. Nobody follows us. When we’re free, we’ll turn the other two loose.”

“No.”

Rory’s jaw dropped. The doc had been all honey until that one word. That “no” stopped the world.

“You are going to free all four people, and then you and Big Tee will surrender your weapons and be placed under arrest.”

“You don’t call the shots, bitch.”

“That’s Dr. Burns to you. And I do call the shots. We play it my way, Music Man. You don’t want to die today. If I let you leave, do you really believe the police won’t end things here and now? That means a bullet to your head. I don’t want you to die. I don’t want Big Tee to die. But I will sacrifice you both to keep all four hostages safe. Do you understand?” She waited a few heartbeats before continuing. “Tell Big Tee what I just said if I’m not on speakerphone. Tell Big Tee he doesn’t call the shots. You’re the big man, the one in charge. You decide, Music Man.”

Rory breathed and didn’t try to hide his grin. Holy shit could she play that guy. She knew all the buttons. Maybe she was a good fit after all. The male voices in his ear rose in a yelling match. The doc had Music Man in the palm of her hand and he was shouting down his partner in crime.

“Alpha One.” Scott’s voice called him.

“Go, Alpha Two.”

“When they come out, I’ll take the first suspect.”

“Roger that.” He agreed with Scott. If trouble erupted, it would come from Big Tee, not Music Man. They both anticipated that he’d be the last one through the door.

“Bravo One and Two in position in the shop to the west.”

“Charlie One and Two still in the rear.”

Rory counted the time by his heartbeats. The blinds twitched several times, and then the voices stopped. Music Man had hung up.

The front door opened and a frightened female voice screamed, “Don’t shoot!” The woman slid through the door and hesitated looking far too much like a deer in headlights.

The doc’s calm voice reverberated through the bullhorn. “Walk to your right. Down the sidewalk. Keep walking no matter what.”

Luckily, the woman did as directed. As she neared the door of the next shop, Jessie appeared, covered her, and rushed her down the street. A few moments later, Jess affirmed, “Hostage one secure.”

The door opened again and a second hostage appeared. This was the older woman. She instinctively turned right and scuttled down the sidewalk. She looked shocked when Hoss appeared but didn’t scream when he all but picked her up and rushed her to the command post.

“Hostage two secured.”

Jessie and Hoss both crept back up the street, hugging the front of the buildings. Two down, four to go. He didn’t dare hope this incident would go off like clockwork. The door opened a third time and he caught shadowy movement in his scope. A third woman appeared, bolting through the door and running pell-mell down the sidewalk. She never even looked at the two SWAT cops, flying past them like she was running for a gold medal. Dutch’s voice acknowledged that the third hostage was safe. The door hadn’t closed and Rory’s attention never wavered.

A hand holding a pistol appeared in the fading sunlight. “Don’t shoot.” Music Man stepped outside, his hands high above his head, the gun dangling from his little finger.

“You fuckin’ asshole.” Big Tee screamed, but Music Man ignored him.

He’d seen Jessie and Hoss, their message clear as they pointed their assault rifles at him. He walked very carefully and extended his hand with the gun still hanging. Hoss snatched the weapon, passed it to Jessie and snapped handcuffs on the guy before hustling him away. Two patrol cops met Hoss halfway and secured the prisoner.

And that left two. The situation was going to hell. The sun was almost down but that did little to cool off the temperature or abate the humidity. Rory blinked sweat from his eyes and grabbed a chance to wipe his face across his sleeve. His respirations sped up and he made a conscious effort to slow them. Breathe. He couldn’t relax until the fourth hostage was safe.

The door opened again and the last hostage appeared. Big Tee’s arm circled her waist in a death hug. The woman’s mouth gaped open in a silent scream, her eyes so wide the whites showed all the way around her irises as Rory watched through his scope. Big Tee pressed an automatic pistol against her temple. Rory blinked rapidly as his eyesight swam—a different face overlaying the hostage’s.

Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. He schooled his vision as Big Tee’s face moved into the scope’s crosshairs. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. “Target acquired.”

“Roger that, Alpha One.” Captain Davis turned control over to him with those four words. The decision to shoot/don’t shoot rested entirely in his trigger finger.

Rory watched Big Tee’s finger tighten on the trigger.

Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. His own finger tightened on the rifle’s trigger. The woman sagged against her captor’s arm and Big Tee stumbled.

NO! Not again. This wasn’t happening again. He reacquired his target. Tee’s fingers loosened on the pistol grip, and the gun slid from his hand. The woman collapsed to the ground as Tee raised both hands to the sky. In moments, Hoss and Scotty swarmed over him while Jessie led the sobbing woman away.

“Fourth hostage secured.”

“Subject in custody.”

“Scene is secure. Alpha One, stand down.”

The reports tumbled over each other. Breathe. Exhale. Inhale. Rory flexed his fingers to ease the tension. Everyone had survived. He had survived. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Just another day at the office, right?