Casey’s phone was gone, and she had no idea if help was on the way. She should have called 911, no matter what. But Micah had been the first person a phone call away.
He was the only one she trusted to help her out of this. And now he might not even come.
It was up to her to get them out alive.
She just had to figure something out. Anything.
The grip on her neck intensified, pain shooting down to her spine, Coleman’s grip tightening as he muscled her across the room. She winced.
“Next to your sister, Teach.” Coleman tossed her down on the couch. Her head cracked into Emery’s shoulder. She righted herself and ignored her pounding headache.
Coleman leered over them, his gun pointed at TJ now. Without moving his eyes from Casey, he slurred at TJ. “Raise your gun and point it at Teach’s sister here. You’re all going to do exactly what I say.”
Casey squeezed her sister’s hand and remained silent, her mind racing. She could rush Coleman, hopefully knock his grip on the gun, but it might fire and hit TJ. TJ would never hold a gun on Emery without Coleman’s prompting. But there was no way she could take Coleman out. He was nearly twice her size and hard living made him scrappier. She’d only get someone shot. Even high, he was still pretty steady on his feet.
She’d have to outsmart him.
“Where’s my package?” He swung his gun wildly around the wrecked office. One of the shelves hung off the wall attached only by one side, glass littering the floor near the bookcase and her desk. Supplies lay strewn across the rug between the couch and chairs. One bookshelf lay broken on its side. He’d searched thoroughly.
“Did you hear me, Teach?” His swung the gun wildly in her direction. “I said, where’s my package?” Spit flew from his mouth and his eyes grew wide, highlighting a deepening bruise beneath his right eye and spreading to his cheek.
High. Angry. And most likely scared for his own life. His voice rose, motions grew more erratic as he paced in front of them, eyes darting around the room.
“I don’t have it, Coleman.”
She tried to catch TJ’s eye, but the teenager was frozen, his eyes blinking wildly at Coleman, the gun shaking in his hand the only movement. Casey worried he would accidentally pull the trigger if startled.
“Then where is it?” Coleman screamed. His hand pointing the gun punctuated every word. Casey feared he would lose control and squeeze the trigger.
“She doesn’t have it, Coleman. I told you that.”
“You stay quiet, you little thief.” Coleman pressed the barrel against TJ’s forehead. “I saw you talking to her the other day. I know you told her.”
“I swear, I didn’t tell her nothing.” TJ’s chest pumped air in and out.
“Liar!” He ground the gun in. TJ cringed, nearly dropping his own gun.
“Did I say you could stop holding the gun on your little girlfriend?” Coleman jerked TJ’s arm level with Emery. Casey darted up from the couch and stepped in front of her baby sister.
“Sit back down, Teach.” Coleman swung to face her. Casey tensed.
“Just let us go. You don’t want to do this, Coleman.”
“I have to do this! You, he, both of you took something that doesn’t belong to you. I need it back. Now.”
“She doesn’t have it, C.” TJ trembled, his gun now fixed on Casey. Emery huddled behind Casey’s back on the couch. Her silent whimper drawing Coleman’s attention.
Casey lurched forward. “But I know where it is.”
The whites of TJ’s eyes widened. Coleman spun around, and TJ began shaking his head.
Casey willed him to be quiet, but he ignored her. “We don’t know. It’s gone. We don’t know. She doesn’t know. Let them go, Coleman. Let them go.”
Shut up, TJ. She had to get Coleman out of the room, out of a place he controlled, away from TJ so that he and Emery could get away and call the police.
“Someone better start talking now!” he roared.
“I took it, and hid it. It’s not in here, Coleman.” She held out her hands. “TJ didn’t know. He never knew. You can let them go. I’m the only one who knows where your package is.”
Coleman advanced on Casey, the barrel of the gun smashing into her chest and grinding into the skin over her heart. He towered over her, his voice a deadly whisper, “You have thirty seconds to tell me where, or I tell TJ to shoot your sister, and I doubt he’s a good shot. The clock starts now. One . . .”
Micah screeched into the parking lot, his wheels spinning and truck bed swinging before snapping into line with his trajectory. He slammed the brakes next to Shawn’s car and hopped out of the truck. The calm of battle wrapped around him, but inside, panic clawed at the calm. The last time he’d walked out of a war zone, his friends hadn’t gone home with him. This time, he wasn’t chasing after his friends.
This was the woman he loved.
Micah was prepared to die for her, but terror told him that this attempt to rescue would fail, and she wouldn’t walk out of the school today.
“What’s going on?” Shawn appeared at his side the moment the truck stopped.
Micah threw open the back door and stretched under the seat for his hand gun and a clip. He quickly popped the clip in, switched off the safety, and turned to face Shawn.
“Whoa, Micah, what’s going on?”
“I need you to call the police. Tell them we have a potential hostage situation with at least one minor and the center counselor.”
“Whoa, slow down. What?”
Micah shot Shawn a look. “I can’t answer everything. I have to get in there. Tell them to come with sirens silent or people will die. Tell them a Navy SEAL is inside and armed. You got it?”
Shawn paused for a beat before grabbing his phone and punching buttons.
Micah heard two short rings before the operator took the call. Satisfied, he moved to the end of the truck bed, using the steel as a shield while he surveyed the building. Shawn rattled off details behind him and ended the call as Micah began to move in a silent jog toward the building.
The crunch of gravel behind him told him Shawn was hot on his heels. Micah crouched behind a trash can near the door and motioned Shawn behind him.
“You need to stay out here.”
“There is no way. I’m going in with you.”
Micah surveyed the front door. Quiet. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He wasn’t exactly sure who was armed and how many were inside. He knew at least Coleman, TJ, and Casey from the little he picked up on the phone. But either way, he would need help. He needed a team. But one more person with him meant the potential of one more person hurt.
“You can’t do this alone, man.”
Micah didn’t have time to debate. Didn’t have time to figure out ten scenarios. He had minutes. Time was too precious. Casey was too precious.
He nodded at Shawn. “At least one person has a gun. Let me handle that. I need you to make sure Casey, TJ, and anyone else in there are safe.”
Micah could see a thousand questions churning in Shawn’s eyes, but he stayed quiet. Micah’s respect for the coach rose.
“I’ll follow your lead. Let’s get them out.”
With a quick nod, Micah moved to the front door, tested the handle, and slipped through silently, Shawn right behind them.
Casey’s office. He took a quick turn down the first hall, pistol ready, heart pounding, but calm had finally descended. He wasn’t alone. And this wasn’t his last op. He would get Casey out.
Familiar rhythms took over as he assessed every way out of the building. The window in Casey’s office overlooking the basketball court, an emergency door at the end of the hallway. But his biggest focus was how to stop a drugged teenager from hurting several other people.
His heart beat in his ears as he neared Casey’s door, the only place he heard voices in the quiet halls.
“Twenty!” Coleman shouted. “I’m starting to think you may be lying, too, Teach.”
Through the window, Micah could see the back of Coleman’s head as he towered over Casey. Her mouth was set in a grim line, her face pale but determined. TJ hunched next to Coleman, a gun shaking in his hands, the barrel now angling to the floor.
“Two guns,” he whispered back to Shawn, his soft voice sounding loud in the tiled hallway. He shifted closer to the door. Casey’s eye flashed toward him. She stiffened, immediately swinging her focus back to Coleman.
“It’s outside,” he heard her say.
“I need a location, Teach. No more excuses. Twenty-five.”
Casey raised her hands higher. Micah could tell she was fighting panic. He prepared to go into the room. He didn’t want to shoot Coleman. He didn’t want to shoot anyone ever again, but to protect someone he loved, Micah wouldn’t hesitate.
“I swear, Coleman. It’s in the mentor’s lounge. I hid it in the back of one of the cabinets.”
“And you expect me to believe that?” He shoved the gun harder into her chest, right over her heart. “Someone would have found it. Twenty-seven.”
“No.” Her voice was near frantic. “It’s on a top shelf over the fridge in the very back corner in an old tin. No one stores anything up there. It’s too hard to reach.”
“You better not be lying.”
The counting had stopped. Micah didn’t know what that was all about, but he didn’t want to wait around for the magic number.
“Here’s the plan, Teach.”
Micah strained to hear, his eyes fixed on Casey as he hugged the wall. TJ stood frozen taking it all in while Emery cowered behind Casey.
“You and I are going to walk out of here. Ladies first, of course.” Micah could hear the sneer in his voice masking the slight slur. “We’re going to this lounge. You are going to give me what I want. If we aren’t back here in three minutes, TJ here is going to shoot your sister, or I’m going to make sure I shoot him the next time I see him. And if he runs, I know where his family lives.” Coleman swung around to eye TJ, his gun still leveled on Casey, hand shaking.
TJ only nodded. Micah heard Emery’s squeal as Coleman grabbed Casey’s arm and yanked her in front of his large body. “Walk, Teach.”
Micah had seconds. He pushed into Shawn, the two of them silently backing up a few steps. He prayed Shawn wouldn’t respond, that he would focus on the plan and get Casey out of the way. Micah had one shot to take Coleman down and limited mobility in the small hallway built for elementary age children. He crouched, counting the footsteps edging closer to the door. Casey’s face appeared, her eyes darting and landing on him. Micah nodded to his left just as Coleman appeared in the doorframe.
Coleman yelled and swung his gun. Casey dove to the side, crashing into the wall as Micah knocked into Coleman in one swift move. With steady hands, he shoved the gun to the ceiling. It fired, plaster raining down on them and a sprinkler head bursting.
Micah wrestled Coleman to the ground, twisting his wrist and tossing the gun. It skittered down the hall and lay still. Micah knelt over Coleman, gun drawn and steady, pointed at his heaving chest. Water rained down as alarms blared.
Coleman had almost shot Casey.
Rage pulsed through Micah. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could only stare at the teenager sprawled beneath him, hands held in surrender, defeat wilting his once angry features.
“Don’t shoot, Coach. Don’t shoot. I never would have hurt them, just don’t shoot.”
“Micah.”
Casey wrapped a hand around his arm, still holding steady on Coleman. “Micah, he’s just a kid. Don’t hurt him.”
Just a kid.
A teenager with a bruised eye, drugs in his system, and refusal to listen to anyone telling him he had other options. A kid who had bought the lie of the war he lived in, thinking he would never find a way out, didn’t want a way out. A kid who hurt others because he had been hurt. A kid making bad choices. A kid stuck in a bad cycle.
A kid like the teenager who had pulled the trigger and killed his friends.
Micah lowered his arm, his chest still heaving. He could see it. The teenager, hauling the launcher on his shoulder, an older man yelling at his side. More yelling. And then fire.
A kid.
Micah hadn’t killed his friends. Someone had. And it had been a kid just like Coleman, being pushed by an adult who didn’t give him another option.
“Micah.”
Micah slowly pushed to his feet, moving back a few steps, his eyes never leaving Coleman. His memory saw a different moment, one that could be different if someone helped kids caught in war zones not of their own making know there was a better way.
“Police!” a man shouted, and the sound of boots on tile echoed down the hall.
Micah placed his gun on the floor, wrapped his arm around Casey, and held his other high.
An officer appeared at his side, taking in Coleman on the floor, Shawn now standing with TJ, and a crying Emery rushing to Casey’s side. “Are you the SEAL?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What happened here?”
“Casey can fill you in.” Micah rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at Casey, her body leaning into his all the reassurance he needed that things were okay and that he would handle this however she chose. “We’ll make sure we get you all the details.”
Casey shot a look to the officer taking the gun from TJ and asking him questions and then down to Coleman now being hauled up and handcuffed by another officer.
Micah rubbed circles on her back, offering a smile at Emery over Casey’s head. She was okay. Everyone was okay.
Casey was safe, and Micah didn’t plan to let her go.