Enjoying the Chase Page 25

  had no intention of letting all the hostages live. They had already shot one hostage to prove they were serious, and were threatening to kill another if the helicopter wasn’t here within the next thirty minutes.

  Captain Richardson, the officer in charge of the operation, shook his head. “I think we need to send in a strike team. We can’t get the helicopter here within the time frame. I’ve already tried to buy more time, but he’s not having any of it. If we don’t give him what he wants within the next,” he looked at his watch, “twenty-three minutes, then he’s going to take out another hostage.”

  Captain Elder nodded, frowning and looking over the schematics of the bank again. “There just doesn’t seem to be any way in there without them seeing us. Surveillance shows that they’re covering all entrances into the building. We can’t get in there undetected.”

  I looked over at the building again. There had to be some way in there. “What about the roof?” I suggested. “Don’t they have roof access in case of fire?”

  The two captains turned to look at me before they both looked back at the schematics again, thumbing through pages until they found the top floor ones.

  “You’re right, Peters. There’s a security hatch up there! If we could get in there, we could work our way down the building. There’s a good chance they would have overlooked the roof entrance.”

  I nodded. Even if they just sent in some tech guys to set up some cameras it would be an advantage. At the moment, we were blind. They’d boarded up the windows so we couldn’t see in. My sniper team was useless because they had no visuals. I had positioned three guys on the two buildings opposite, covering the two exits in case they tried to break free. Other than that though, we could do nothing to help, it would all be down to a ground team and negotiator.

  I listened as they started planning the best approach. They were sending in a ground team through the roof access; cameras would be set up to feed intel while they played out the remainder of the time they’d been given. Hopefully they’d be able to do something before the deadline was up and they killed another hostage.

  When everything was arranged, I walked up to Captain Elder. I wanted to help; I hated being stuck on the sidelines. “Sir, can I go in too? I could just cover the team, be backup in case the ground team need it,” I suggested. It wasn’t my usual job, but I had done this occasionally, if there was a better vantage point inside then I would take it.

  “You want to go in?” he asked. I nodded, and he patted me on the shoulder. “I’m not gonna lie, Nate, you’d be helping out a lot doing that. You could lead the team in there, they’d benefit from your experience. We could split the strike team and have you lead half and Jacob lead the other half.”

  “Absolutely, sir.” I headed over to Jacob Granger, who was planning with his team and ordering the tech guys around. I joined in the plans, excited to be seeing some action for the first time in three days.

  Ten minutes later, we slipped through the roof hatch undetected. I raised my gun, holding my hand up for my mini strike team, signalling for them to stop behind me. When I was satisfied that the coast was clear, I pointed and ordered them to fan out so we could cover more ground. I had four people with me, and the other mini team had the same amount. There was another team that was going to blast the front door and come in once we were settled in positions. We’d all move at the same time and have the element of surprise on our sides.

  We worked our way silently through the building, stopping on the floor above them. Using the ventilation schematic drawing, we found the crawlspace we were looking for. The main tech guy and I eased off the metal grate that covered it, before crawling inside. If we went in about thirty yards, we would be directly above the vault on the floor below, which was where the last intel put the hostages.

  After crawling in and estimating we were in the right position, we stopped. “Get the camera in,” I whispered.

  He nodded and pulled out a little hand drill, boring a hole into the tiles where we were, then pushed a small camera wire in, holding the handset out to me so I could view it. After a couple of seconds, the picture came into focus. I took hold of the wire, twisting the camera around so I could view the room below us.

  The hostages were sitting over to the north section, huddled together. A guy with a semi-automatic weapon walked in front of them. He looked nervous and jittery, shooting little glances off to the side. Forcing the camera in a little further, I angled it in the direction that the guy kept looking. Sitting there, behind the manager’s desk, was a man that I instantly knew was the leader. His feet rested up on the desk, crossed over at the ankles. He was far too relaxed.

  Moving the camera back and forth, I scanned the room. There were seven hostiles that I could see, including the leader, which meant that there was one more somewhere. Our Intel confirmed there were eight of them in total.

  I pressed my button on my comms unit, calling through to the other team leader. “I see seven hostiles in total; three on the east side, two on the west. There’s one patrolling the hostages on the north side, and the boss is sitting at the manager’s desk at the back. Number eight is not in sight. I repeat, hostile number eight cannot be located. All hostages look fine, no injuries that I can see. Be aware, I saw two children in the group.”

  “Okay. I’m moving down to the east to take out the three. The outside team can take out the west side targets. Are you happy to take the leader and manage the hostages?” Jacob asked through the little earpiece I was wearing.

  “Affirmative. Moving to positions now,” I confirmed. I turned back to the tech guy. “Stay here, keep watch, any changes you notify Jacob and I immediately.”

  “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

  I wriggled my way out of the crawlspace and back to my team, telling them the plan. After everyone was clear, we silently made our way downstairs, splitting up into pairs as we got into good positions. Using my mirror to look around the corner, I checked that nothing had changed. Thankfully, they all seemed to be exactly where they were through the camera. I could hear the hostages crying and whimpering. The two kids I had seen were clinging to their mother who looked like she was trying to cover them with her own body.

  Easing back against the wall, I pressed the button for my comms unit on channel 2, the officers’ channel outside. “Team one. We’re in position, ready to strike. Are we a go?” I whispered.

  There was a couple of seconds of silence, and then Jacob came on. “Team two, ready to go.”

  More silence then the team from outside answered. “Team three, prepped. On your command, we’ll blow the doors. Ready to go.”

  I nodded to my team, doing a hand gesture, signalling for them to get ready. I checked my handgun; it felt strange to only have a light, small gun. Normally I would be lying on my stomach with a thirty pound piece of metal in my hands.

  “Call it, Jacob,” I instructed, bending my knees, readying to step out of the hiding place I had behind the wall. My first target was the one in front of the hostages; he needed to be disabled first.

  “On three. One. Two…” Jacob commanded.

  On three, the doors on the front of the building blew off their hinges. As dust and debris sprayed everywhere, the screaming started. Hostiles were shouting commands to each other, panicked. I stepped around the corner and aimed at the guy holding a hand gun in front of the hostages. I didn’t bother giving him a warning; he’d lost his right to surrender when he took a position near the group of innocents in the bank.

  I shot him in the thigh, making him scream in pain and drop to his knees. His eyes scanned the room, unsure what was going on. Another agent ran into the room, immediately tackling him to the ground and kicking his gun away from him. I turned to my second target – the leader of the group. He was shouting to his men, trying to duck behind the desk that he’d tipped over, his gun pointing over the top, shooting blindly into the room.

  I stepped back against the wall; I needed to take him out before he hit someone. I
sighted my gun, immediately searching for a good shot. Squeezing the trigger, I fired a round directly into the back of his hand making him scream in pain and drop the gun.

  I scanned the room again; other agents were taking care of it all now. Most of the targets were being dealt with. I stepped forward to secure the leader, gun raised readily. As I stepped closer, he made a grab for his gun, raising it at me. My heart sank as I realised that I had to kill him; I hated to kill people, but I was exposed in a room full of innocents and, by all accounts, in this situation it was always ‘shoot first and ask questions later’. As I shot him in the chest he fell to the floor with a gurgling noise coming from his mouth that I could still somehow hear even over all of the screaming and sounds of fighting.

  I frowned and turned back to my team. One of them signalled that the targets were all down, so I walked over to the hostages to check for injuries. As I approached the group, I did a quick headcount. There were seventeen in total. I stopped. Hadn’t the reports said that there were initially seventeen hostages, but one was shot? I could see a dead body off to the side, a woman in a bank uniform. So shouldn’t there just be sixteen hostages sitting here?

  I counted them again. I had definitely counted right. I turned to the side and pressed my walkie, calling through to Captain Richardson outside.

  “How many hostages are there in total?” I asked, eyeing the group again.

  “Reports are of seventeen, minus one,” he answered.

  I quickly raised my gun, scanning the crowd for anyone that didn’t look as if they belonged. My eyes skimmed the group and came to rest on a guy who was shifting nervously and looking away from me. He definitely looked uncomfortable. He looked like he was trying to blend in, but he was wearing combat pants with overly large, bulky pockets, certainly big enough to hide a gun in. Was he the missing eighth man?

  I decided to try and flush the crowd and see any of them didn’t belong. “All of you will be taken into custody for finger printing and background checks. If you could just remain seated here until we call you forward. One by one we will put handcuffs on you and take you to the station,” I lied, watching him closely.

  His head jerked up, and his eyes flicked to the exit door. That was definitely not a normal reaction. I pointed my gun at him and stepped closer. “Stand!” I ordered.

  “Nate, what are you doing?” Jacob hissed in my ear. I couldn’t explain now though, there was a fucking hostile sitting amongst the hostages trying to pass himself off as an innocent.

  “You, combat pants, black T-shirt. Stand now!” I repeated, pointing at him with my free hand so he knew I was talking to him.

  The crowd were suddenly staring at me, each person frozen in horror at the realisation their ordeal was not yet over. The guy’s eyes moved from me to the girl sitting next to him. Before I could do anything, he dived behind her and wrapped his arm around her throat, using her for cover as he pressed a gun to her head.

  Fuck it!

  He jerked her to her feet, moving behind her, using her like a shield.

  “Back off! If you don’t put your gun down then I’m killing her!” he screamed, pressing the gun to her head tighter, making her wail and beg for help. “Shut up!” he barked.

  “Take it easy there, buddy. It’s all good. Just put your gun down and I won’t have to kill you.”

  “Move back! Where’s the damn helicopter?” he screamed, spit flying from his mouth as he jerked the girl backwards, trying to get away from me. The girl’s hands were clamped around his arm as her face slowly turned red where she couldn’t breathe properly. Her eyes were wide and terrified as she begged me silently for help.

  “Last chance,” I said, closing one eye, lining up my shot. “Let the girl go. Now!”

  He made an angry growl sound as his arm tightened on her neck. She made a strangled gargle and the sound made my finger squeeze the trigger.

  The bullet went straight through his eye. Blood splattered across the hostage’s face. The force of the shot threw him backwards, pulling the woman down on top of him. She let out a piercing scream as I ran forward, gun still raised. She was thrashing trying to get his arm off her. I looked down at him; there was no chance he was still alive, that was a classic kill shot.

  I reached down and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. She immediately threw her arms around my neck almost choking me, as she sobbed hysterically, mumbling thank you over and over again.

  “It’s okay, ma’am. You’re safe now. Everything’s alright,” I soothed, as I stroked her back and pulled her away from the dead body. Her legs gave out, so I slipped my arm around her to hold her up. “Jacob, secure all hostiles while I take her to the medic,” I instructed, pulling her into my arms and carrying her out of the building with her still clinging to me.

  “Thank you. Oh God, thank you!” she sobbed.

  “It’s okay now, you’re fine. They’ll check you out but you’re fine,” I said softly as I carried her over to the medics, sitting her on a gurney.

  “You saved my life,” she gushed, looking at me gratefully. I smiled and went to pull back, but she grabbed my hand. “Don’t leave me!”

  I sighed and nodded, sitting on the side of the medic van while they checked her over. After about ten minutes she was given the all clear to sit up. Once at the hospital she would be monitored for shock, as was the usual procedure for up-close hostages like her. She had calmed down now and was no longer crying. She was looking at me like I was some sort of God or something.

  “Thank you, Officer…” she trailed off, looking at me expectantly.

  “Peters.” I really wanted to go. I just needed five minutes on my own to process what had happened. I’d just killed two people so I needed to take a few deep breaths in private.

  She smiled. “I’m Christina.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Christina. I’m really sorry, but I have to go. I have a lot of reports and stuff I have to fill out about the incident,” I excused myself, standing up.

  Christina frowned. “Do you think maybe we could meet up and I could buy you a drink or dinner? To, you know, say thanks?” she asked, looking at me hopefully.

  Oh shit. How did I not see this coming? Attachment disorder. Latching on to the officer that saves you. Classic.

  “You don’t need to thank me, ma’am. It’s my job,” I replied, stepping away.

  It was the uniform, definitely the uniform that got the girls!

  “Well, how about I just buy you a drink because I want to then?” she offered.

  I smiled uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have a girlfriend, so that can’t happen.”

  She frowned, looking extremely disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if I hadn’t met Rosie. “She’s a lucky girl,” she said quietly.

  I shook my head at that statement. “No, she’s not. I’m the lucky one,” I said honestly. “Be safe, ma’am.” I turned before she could flirt with me some more, and headed over to the group of agents that were leading the perpetrators out of the building, and into the waiting reinforced police vehicles, ready to take them to the station.

  Captain Elder gripped my shoulder. “Good work there, Peters. That was an excellent save.”

  I smiled weakly, pretending like I didn’t feel like a pile of shit inside. He was congratulating me for taking a life; sure, it had been necessary, but it was still two people that were now dead because of me.

  “Thanks, sir. Shall I go back and fill out my reports?” I asked, looking at the car hopefully. I really wanted to be away from here; I didn’t want to be here when they carried the two bodies out of the building. I hated to see body bags.

  “Yeah, usual thing, Nate. Fill out your reports then you can take the rest of the day off,” he replied, nodding.

  I headed to the nearest squad car, hitching a lift back to the station. It took me an hour to go through my statement of events, sign my reports, and turn in my gun for inspection. This was all just formality. I
would be back at work tomorrow and would get a pat on the back for a job well done. This was all just bullshit paperwork.

  Once all my reports were filed, I headed into the changing rooms. As soon as I was on my own, I started to think about it again. I sat down on the bench and put my head in my hands, playing it over and over in my head.

  Did I do the right thing? Was there another shot I could have taken instead of the kill shot? Was there someone in a better position than me? Could I have waited for someone to reposition so that they could take him out without having to kill him?

  I watched it play out in slow motion in my head, how the bullet had gone into his eye, how blood had splattered on the hostage’s face as she screamed and cried, how his body had gone limp before he fell to the floor.

  I couldn’t see a single thing I did wrong, there was nothing I could have done differently, and there was no way I could have saved either of the lives I took today. It wasn’t my fault.

  Even as I thought it, I couldn’t make myself believe it; the guilt of it was eating me up. I needed to stop thinking about it. I needed something to take my mind off it. I desperately needed to speak to Rosie. Usually the first thing I would think about after a kill was either getting drunk or getting laid, or both in either order, but today all I wanted was to hear Rosie’s voice.

  Russell walked out of the shower with a towel draped around his waist. He smiled and I forced a fake smile in return, standing and grabbing a towel from the side, heading into the shower. I just stood there, letting the spray jet down across my shoulders while I pictured Rosie’s face, trying to block out the wild expression on the target’s face as he tried to look for an exit. I imagined Rosie’s laugh, trying to block out the screams and pleas of the hostage, begging me to help her.

  I have no idea how long I stood there for, but Russell poked his head around the corner, fully dressed so I must have been in here for a little while at least. “Nate, want to come for a beer?”

  I shook my head. “No thanks, Rus. What’s the time?” I asked, rinsing my hair under the spray.

  “Twenty past two.”

  Rosie finished work in an hour and ten minutes.

  “Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow,” I called, turning my back on