Another shot rang out, and Vickers collapsed. Butler’s trigger finger was faster than Glover’s.
Butler advanced on the subject. “Cover me.”
Liam and Glover closed in, weapons trained on the fugitive. Butler kicked the gun out of reach, holstered his weapon, and rolled the wounded man to his stomach to secure his hands behind his back.
Seeing Ethan had the suspect handled, Liam holstered his weapon and raced to Albright. Blood leaked from between Albright’s fingers.
“Hold on. I’ve got you.” Liam put pressure on the wound, causing Albright to grimace and groan in pain.
“Shots fired. Fugitive in custody. Officer down. We need medics times two,” Glover yelled into the radio.
The response came a second later. “Ten-four.”
Glover pulled gloves from her pants pocket and then started life-saving measures on Vickers by pressing down hard on the wound to slow the bleeding. “You’re not dying here. Not on my watch. You have a date with a judge and a panel of twelve of your peers.”
“Stanton, you sweep right. I’ll take the left. Make sure there’s no accomplices,” Butler ordered.
Liam turned his full attention to Albright. “How are you doing?”
Albright gritted his teeth. “I’ve been shot. How do you think I’m doing?”
“Right, but tell me if you get tired or cold.” Liam prayed that both men lived.
Vickers needed to live just as much as the marshal. Not only because he needed to pay for his crimes but to give him the opportunity to know God. He was definitely a bad guy, but he was a bad guy loved by a good God.
God saw all sin as equally condemning, unlike man, who determined there were levels of sin. It was a hard thing to reconcile in his line of work. Liam was better than the fugitive in the eyes of man, but not in the eyes of God. Not without the blood of Jesus covering him.
Liam held the pressure firm, jaw tight. The fugitive was in cuffs, the scene was secure, but his prayer wouldn’t stop repeating:Not today. Don’t let death win today.
Sure, he’d been thinking that giving up a fugitive-apprehension career to move to Renegade and raise Sophia was a kind of death. At least, the death of the life he’d thought he would have.
But today had shown it wasn’t completely gone. Liam had to choose life—for himself and for Sophia.
But would she do the same?
THREE
Sam rinsed her plate and added it to the station dishwasher, still thinking about the call from the school, even though she’d determined to solve that problem later. It was Greer’s turn to cook but her turn to clean up.
Despite her reservations, the chicken caprese sandwiches Greer had made were delicious. She had seriously questioned his sanity when he’d pulled out Greek yogurt and basil pesto and started to mix them. But it worked. So well.
She closed the dishwasher door. “I’m shocked to say this, but good job, Greer.”
“High protein and tasty.” He leaned against the counter. He’d said that since she wouldn’t let him help with cleanup, he’d at least hang around and keep her company.
The others had already filtered out of the kitchen to the dayroom, or wherever else they wanted to spend what downtime they might have.
Just as she was deciding what to do next, the alarm pealed throughout the station, followed by the mechanical voice announcing a medical call and an address.
“Let’s go.” She shut off the water, dried her hands on a towel, and ran to the engine. It was a medical call, so no need for turnout gear—though she tossed it in, just in case.
Murphy had the engine started, and Lieutenant Fischer was climbing in the front when she made it to the rig. Once she and Greer were in, Murphy pulled the truck out of the engine bay and onto the busy street. He flipped on lights and sirens, and they sailed past waiting traffic.
“Two patients with gunshot wounds. One of them a federal agent,” Lieutenant Fischer advised.
Sam watched through the window as the scenery changed. It was amazing how a couple of blocks could change the area from a nice neighborhood to a dilapidated, crime-infested area. Kind of like the stark contrast between her old life and her new life.
Murph pulled the engine up next to a copse of trees behind a rundown motel known to the station for drug overdoses. Instead of the usual handful of civilians walking away, determined not to get involved, she spotted at least three unmarked police cars, blue lights flashing, and a couple Renegade squad cars.
