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We left the gravel road and hit pavement with the last of the loose stones bouncing off underneath the Impala silencing the previous metallic symphony.
“You want to get lunch around here? I’m getting kind of hungry.”
“Doesn’t Monique feed you every day Lonnie?”
“She is a great cook but I need something to get me over until dinner.”
We pulled into a fast food drive thru and ordered. The person inside the window said that our order would be up any minute. We pulled off to a parking spot waiting for someone to bring out the order.
The radio lit up with a series of calls. All units... All units code 10-23 10-23! All available units please respond. The address was downtown. Joel Blake’s office building.
“Unit 83 responding to the location Unit 83 responding.”
I quickly looked at the computer screen in the car that was flashing red with white lettering. The screen then populated with information regarding the 10-23 call. A lone gunman had entered the Brick Street Bureau and shot up the building and was reported to have a single hostage leaning up against the glass window on the second floor.
“Faster Lonnie step on it let’s go.”
We were doing 130mph on a straight line. Careening around corners blowing through traffic lights with our siren going and lights flashing on our unmarked Impala.
“Roman I go any faster and we hit something neither of us makes it home tonight.”
“I want to get there before they insert a tactical team or green light a sniper to take a shot.”
“What in the hell are you talking about Roman?”
Lonnie looked over at me like I was a madman who had lost his mind.
“I will tell you what my plan is but you got to get us there now.”
Our entire force had gone over active shooter scenarios and counter terrorism training over the course of a month on weekends just prior to all the murders. The information was still somewhat fresh in my mind. The training was so in depth. We were trained in citizen scenarios given the same set of circumstances unarmed. Generally speaking, you have only a few options with regards to an active shooter. You can run or hide or find something to try and defend yourself and prepare to fight. I picked Joel Blake as not taking any of these options. The guy had an ego as big as a mountain but I’m sure he was nothing more than a gutless coward at his very core and more than likely froze where he was standing.
I had Lonnie stop the car and let me out on the street behind the deli. I used the fire escape stairs and climbed to the roof of the building. I began to army crawl as soon as I touched the roof so I could move undetected. I got to an air conditioning unit in the middle of the roof where I could get up to a slight crouch to get a look at the scene into the office across the street. A male in his early fifties who was wearing filthy blue jeans and a flannel shirt was pointing a Remington Model 870 pistol grip shotgun at Joel Blake’s temple. Blake’s face and body was pressed against the window of his second story office. His khakis pants were soaked in the crotch and down his leg already from him urinating on himself. I did not see anyone else in the building on the first floor. The suspect with the shotgun was yelling at Blake and pushing the end of the barrel deep into Blake cheek now. I went back down the building and onto the street.
“Buy me some time.”
“Not asking for much are you partner?”
“Trust me on this Lonnie I got it.”
“Don’t get yourself killed.”
I could see the area being cordoned off and the SWAT unit assembling a block away. A couple Snipers had positioned themselves in a few windows of an office building just to the left of the Brick Street Bureau.com on the second floor. I didn’t have much time and I was asking a lot from Lonnie more than I should have but he always trusted me. I made my way to the back of Blake’s building.
One of the doors were still opened. Someone must have left it that way when they fled out of the office. Pulling out my 9 MM I started to clear the lower floor. Papers were strewn all over. Computer terminals smashed with power cords pulled violently from the outlets. Personal desk items and photos were strewn about the entire floor. Near the stair case movement behind me. The hammer cocked with my finger on the trigger I whipped around finding Joel’s secretary. Her hand over her mouth trembling she was sitting on the floor refusing to get up. Gently I eased her into my arms shuttling her away from the building to a large tree setting her down beside it.
“What happened?”
“The Larkin woman. Her Father. He reeked of alcohol. He... He... asked for Joel when he came back from lunch. He must have waited for him. He pulled out a gun shooting at everything destroying the place. Someone told him Joel was upstairs. Everyone must have gotten out except us.”
“Everything will be ok. Stay here until an officer arrives.”
“You’re not going in again?”
Using a back stairwell, I slowly ascended to the 2nd Floor. While easing the door open a rush of trapped air made its way out. The tirade of an inebriated grieving father echoed down the hall.
“Erase the story and the pictures you fucking maggot!”
“Sir, I can get rid of my pictures but the rest there’s nothing I can do?
“What do you mean the rest?”
“The other news outlets that used them.”
A shot rang out with the sounds of falling plaster hitting the floor. Another shell was racked.
“You best get busy then and pick up the phone while you can.”
Under immeasurable stress Blake couldn’t manage to hold the receiver on the phone to place a call dropping it repeatedly on his desk.
Using the report of the shotgun’s blast I took advantage of its noise to camouflage my movement further into his office. Peering around a large filing cabinet I could see Joel Blake. He briefly made eye contact with me. Luckily Sarah Larkin’s father hadn’t noticed. A lone red dot from a laser rested on the wall from a sniper’s rifle across the street. They were in position awaiting the green light. Taking a bound file folder from the top of the cabinet I threw it into the corner behind the father. Spooked by the noise he turned and fired. Running full tilt I lowered my shoulder driving it into his midsection. The impact hurtled us into a wall knocking the shotgun from his sweaty grasp. I had knocked the wind out of him as he gasped to catch air. After a brief struggle, I gained control of Mr. Larkin placing handcuffs on his wrists. Standing him up I led him out into the hall where a SWAT team had found its way up to the second floor. Handing over the weapon I walked back into Blake’s office.
Pulling a chair over I sat down in front of Joel Blake. Positioned behind his desk that had collected a puddle of his sweat for the last half hour he sat rubbing his temples trying to process it all.
“Do you need medical attention? Are you injured?”
Odors of gunpowder and perspiration still clung to the air. Silence sat now between us as the sounds of the radio in the hallway faded down the stairs.
“You’re lucky that Redneck didn’t have a true understanding of how the Internet works. If he did, they would be scraping you off the walls.”
He finally spoke.
“Suppose you think I’m just going to pack up and move away after all this.”
“I would think this type of persuasion might call for a career change.”
“Sorry to disappoint. But I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”
“I’m curious?”
“About?”
“Is it your ego or lack of common sense that clouds your judgment?”
“You think I owe you something now is that it?”
“Just performing my duties nothing more.”
“So, you think I should quit this all together because you want me to.”
“Your choice because the next time you post something so irresponsible a maniac like that might take your life.”
“Unless of course the hero of our City doesn’t save me first.”
“Ungrateful prick. You might want to change out of those clothes you smell like a nursing home.”
Rain falling out of the sky had morphed into large flakes of snow swirling on the ground from a brief gust. A dark sedan with tinted windows pulled up beside me at the curb. The rear window lowered half way. A familiar voice.
“Get in Detective.”
Cyrus Maxwell looked over at me as he instructed his driver to go up a couple of blocks and park.
“You breached protocol.”
“SWAT was sill assembling.”
“A lot of people are unhappy the way this went down.”
“That no one was hurt and the suspect apprehended?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Been a long day so far if you haven’t noticed.”
“I think you have some vacation time that needs spending Detective.”
“Maybe after we find that psycho first.”
“You have anything new to offer?”
“We’re getting closer now.”
“Specifically, what do you have?”
“Up until our cities most popular journalist here was staring down the barrel of a gun Lonnie and I were moving fairly quickly on what we found.”
“Which is what?”
“We think we found the spot where the Leblanc woman was taken from and a possible make on a vehicle driven by the killer.”
“Alright, keep in contact if you find anything else substantial.”
Watching them drive back toward the station my shoulder began to stiffen a bit from the tackle. Making it worse was a headache that come out the blue. The neurologist had warned me I may catch a migraine now and again. My phone lit up from a message. It was Monica. She had sent a link of amateur footage someone had shot from a window across the street from Blake’s 2nd story office.
“I just saw the news. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine thanks for asking.”
“Were you going to tell me about this morning Roman?”
“That was nothing. A few misguided souls now in their proper place.”
“You certainly lead an exciting life Roman Lee. Scared to see what you do for fun.”
“Let’s have dinner again sometime soon.”
“How could a girl say no after watching that action?”
“Talk to you soon.”
A set of tires came to a halt near my feet. Lonnie had pulled next to the curb. I turned the heater down. He always like it warmer than I did.
“Looks like I bought you enough time.”
“Thanks.”
“Blake say anything to you after?”
“Would it surprise you if he was an ungrateful, arrogant asshole?”
“Not in the least.”
“That’s about how that conversation went.”
“I saw you get into his car Roman. Chief ask you anything?”
“Bothered a little that I didn’t wait for SWAT. He asked where we were with our investigation.”
“You tell him everything.”
“Of course, Chief’s a straight shooter Lonnie you know that.”
“I know but you can be sure he is sharing every detail with Braddock.”
“Fuck Braddock. If he had any knowledge of what it takes out here to do what we do.”
“Don’t suppose you would vote for him then if he ran for governor.”
“That a rhetorical question? You recall when he was first elected. He wanted to implement those so-called ride a longs with our department so he could see firsthand the dangers that we face each day. After two weeks, they ran out of volunteers because people grew sick of his suggestions and criticism. Fucking politicians always think they know everything and what’s best for everyone.”
“So, that’s a no then?”
“Just drive.”
“Where to?”
“The drugstore I need some aspirin my head is killing me.”