Crossfire. B.J. Daniels
besides cry in your club soda?”
“Like what?”
“Like make the bastards pay for what they did.” Pay had been the word that had echoed in his own head. Yeah, pay.
“How?”
Kenny gave it a little thought. Hell, people did it all the time on TV. “You could take over city hall, make them sit up and take notice.”
Lee perked right up after that.
“But they won’t unless you’re serious,” Kenny pointed out.
“Serious how?”
“Have a weapon or two to hold off the cops until your demands are met,” Kenny said, the idea growing on him. Demands. How much money would the city come up with if a wacko had city hall? Better yet, if the wacko had a hostage? A hundred thousand bucks? More?
Lee was crying in his club soda again. “Forcibly take city hall for what purpose besides getting arrested? Anyway, nothing can bring Francine back.”
Kenny thought fast. “You said you wanted to make a difference? So you’re just going to give up?”
“What choice do I have? I’ve been to the city council meetings. I’m just one small voice in a city that has too many other problems to care about mine.”
“Exactly,” Kenny said. “You need to make yourself heard. If you took city hall hostage, you could demand that something be done. Hell, you would be on television. Everyone would know what happened to your wife. The city would have to do something.”
“A bit drastic—”
“Seems to me drastic measures are needed,” Kenny said, trying to come up with something to appease the old fart. “How else can you be sure that the city won’t let something like this happen again? You want your wife’s life to count for something, right? Think of the lives you might save.”
Lee was looking at him through his wire-rimmed glasses, as if actually considering what Kenny was saying. The guy tended to zone in and out, but Kenny thought he finally had the old fool’s attention.
“We both lost someone we loved because of this city, man,” Kenny said, realizing when it came down to it, he’d been wronged, too. “We can’t just sit back and do nothing.” This might actually work. “You want to get the city to listen to you? Stick with me. We’ll get their attention all right, man.”
“You would support my efforts?” Lee sounded so surprised and touched that Kenny almost laughed.
“Damn straight. You and I are going to teach this city a lesson that won’t soon be forgotten.” He patted the old man’s shoulder. “So do you think you can get yourself some firepower?”
Lee looked vague again, then nodded. “I suppose there is no other way?”
Kenny had shaken his head. “Sometimes you got to take a stand,” he’d said, already seeing how this was going to play out. The city would pay to keep the hostages alive. He’d demand five hundred thousand, a passport and a plane out of the country to some place where he couldn’t be extradited, just like the guys did on TV.
But it would only be a ticket for one. The old man wouldn’t be coming along. Kenny would make sure of that.
CHAPTER TWO
6:45 a.m. Friday
“IS THE CHIEF IN YET?” Flint Mauro asked as he walked through the employee entrance to the police station.
The desk sergeant looked up and nodded. “Said to tell you to come straight to his office. He’s waiting for you.”
Flint didn’t like the sound of that as he started down the hallway toward the watch commander’s office. He was early, but Max was already waiting for him? What the hell was that about? What the hell was any of this about?
Max’s door was closed. He tapped lightly.
“Come in,” said a gruff, impatient voice.
Flint stepped in, ready to take a good chewing out. He just wished he knew what for. “Chief,” he said.
Max motioned him into a chair without even looking up. Flint sat down uneasily and watched as his commander raked a hand through a head of thick, dark hair, then finally leaned back in his chair and looked at him, as if bracing himself for the worst.
At forty-five, the six-foot-two chief of police was as solid as a brick outhouse. He could be tough as nails, and yet normally, humor and compassion shone in his green eyes. Not this morning though.
Flint felt the full weight of his gaze. He waited, growing more worried by the moment. Something had happened, that much was clear. And it wasn’t something Flint was going to like.
“Flint, you and I have discussed at length my idea to put a paramedic on the SWAT team,” Max said after a moment.
Flint looked at him in surprise. This was what Max wanted to talk about? He relaxed a little. “And you know how I feel about it.”
Max sighed. “As you know, we had a court reporter, Lorraine Nelson, who suffered a heart attack during that shooting incident back in September. She lived, but suffered extensive damage to her heart and was forced to retire because of it. If the fire department’s paramedics could have gotten to her quicker, maybe she would have had a full recovery. George Yube died after the sniper shot him. Same story there. Had he gotten help faster, he might be alive today.” Max took a breath and let it out with a sigh. “The way it is now, we can’t get the victims any help until the area is secured. That’s not acceptable.”
“It’s not acceptable to send a paramedic into a dangerous situation until it is secured,” Flint said. “Otherwise you’re risking the paramedic’s life or simply offering the criminals another hostage. The bottom line is, we end up having another person to try to protect, as well as the victims, when our main priority is to stop the bad guy before he hurts anyone else.”
“I’ve taken all that into consideration,” Max said.
“Have you forgotten that the last time we let a paramedic in with the team, the paramedic almost got killed?”
“That paramedic wasn’t SWAT trained.”
Flint shook his head in frustration and shifted in his chair. “Why are we discussing this again? You already know my feelings on this subject and I know yours. How long are we going to debate this?”
Max tented his fingers under his chin, his gaze suddenly steely. “I didn’t ask you here to try to convince you. Or to ask for your approval.”
Flint felt his heart drop. “I see. Well, if your mind is made up, then why get me in here so damned early?” He swore under his breath as he rose to his feet. “You’re obviously moving ahead with this no matter how I feel.”
“Sit down, Flint.”
Flint dropped back into the chair with a sigh.
“I agree with all your arguments,” Max said quietly. “It is a risk, but one that I feel has to be taken for the victim’s sake.”
There was no talking Max out of this. Flint could see that now. “We have a couple of SWAT members with paramedic training who might be interested in the position, I suppose.”
Max shook his head. “I’ve found a paramedic with SWAT training and experience in situations we’ve been forced to deal with and some we haven’t yet.”
“Really?” Flint couldn’t hide his surprise. “So when does he start?” He knew his men weren’t going to like this any more than he did. This guy better be flat amazing.
There was a knock at the door. Max glanced at his watch. “The new SWAT team paramedic is here now, early, just like you were,” Max said with a wry smile as he got to his feet to answer the knock personally.
Flint