Page 27 of Oddly Fine

Beckett figured Hayes must have realized that he had no intentions of turning back when he heard a burst of static behind him, indicating that Hayes was contacting command with an update.

“Agent Thérault is in pursuit inside the tunnels. I repeat—agent in pursuit inside the tunnels.”

Hayes’ strong disapproval came through loud and clear. It was a sure bet that Beckett was going to get an earful when he made it back. He’d better get ready to grovel—or to suck Hayes’ dick like it was his day job.

The tunnel the three thieves had broken out of appeared to be a small section branching off from a main tunnel. As he approached the connecting point, Beckett was surprised to find the main tunnels were all nearly twice the size of the one he’d been navigating. Fortunately, the main tunnels had intermittently spaced, low-wattage lights in them, so he no longer needed his night vision goggles to see. Emerging into a main tunnel, he looked in both directions. He didn’t see any signs of the two thieves. With a frustrated curse, he checked the clip of his Glock out of habit. Hayes had been right about the issue of exposure. The tunnel was barren. If a firefight broke out, he would be in a shit ton of trouble.

He listened for any sounds and studied the ground for footprints indicating where they’d gone. He had just resorted to flipping an imaginary coin to decide which way to go when he heard the sound of fabric brushing against rock off to his right. Very quietly, he took off running, checking for any openings in the walls where someone could hide. He'd gone a short distance when the unmistakeable sound of a gun firing had him dropping and rolling out of habit. Bullets whizzed past him as he flattened himself against the ground.

“You don’t want to do that,” Beckett called out in warning as he searched for the shooter. “You’ll get a couple of years—maybe a decade if you’re unlucky. Shooting a federal agent—that’ll earn you a permanent residency card and a subscription to ‘don’t drop the soap’!”

The shooter responded by firing several more rounds. During the next break in gunfire, Beckett jumped up to sprint to the nearest form of cover he could find, which was a piece of the wall that extended out about six inches into the corridor. Something was better than nothing, right?

“Nancy’ll read me the riot act for this little stunt,” he muttered to himself as he listened for the shooter’s next move. Quickly, he glanced around the edge of the wall. His risky move was rewarded as he caught one suspect moving swiftly from one side of the tunnel to the other. Beckett couldn’t be sure, but he’d have put good money on the fact that there was another tunnel connection right there, with smaller tunnels leading directly into the main one. That’s where they were taking cover. He was sure of it.

“You’re done, guys!” he shouted down the tunnel. “The school is surrounded. They knew you were coming here—give it up!” He crouched down on the ground, getting as low as possible. His plan—if you could call it that—wasn’t much of one, but if he could manage to rile them up enough to fire on him again, he might get his own chance at a clear shot. His first attempt got no reaction, so he changed his approach. Maybe he should list some options and amenities for them to consider as long-term guests of the Canadian prison system. That might work.

“What’s it gonna be? Five to ten in minimum security lock-up? Or 20-to-life and a DIY shiv kit?”

The reaction came swiftly. He’d barely finished speaking when one of them shot at him. Fortunately, he saw the guy in time and got in his own quick shot while avoiding getting hit. The thief fell forward, groaning and clutching his side, dropping his gun, which clattered to the ground.

Beckett raced to pick it up before the gunman could retrieve it.

“No!” A woman screamed as she ran towards them from one of the side tunnels and collapsed to the ground next to the injured thief.

Beckett grabbed the guy’s gun and pointed both weapons at the thieves.

“Hands in the air!”

“No, no! Come on, Jimmy!” Ignoring Beckett, she pushed the guy’s hands away from the wound and began to apply pressure, like an episode of Law and Order.

“Chill out!” Beckett snapped, as he reached down to pull her away from the guy. “It’s just a flesh wound. Get on your knees and put your hands up!” he barked.

She refused to comply and just kept sobbing.

“I’m alright,” said the injured thief, clutching his wound.

Apparently finding his response reassuring, she finally raised her hands. Beckett reached for the zip ties in his back pocket and secured her hands behind her back.

There was an odd flutter of movement around them, like a buzzing sensation. Beckett took a quick look around, checking to see if they’d brought power tools along or—something that could have caused the vibration. But he didn’t see any possible source.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to dealing with the wounded thief. “On your knees,” he ordered.

“I’m injured!” he whined.

Beckett rolled his eyes.

“On. Your. Knees.”

With a pained groan, the thief managed to get on his knees. Beckett pulled his arms back and bound his wrists with a zip tie. Then he checked to make sure it was just a flesh wound. His aim was pretty good, and he was fairly certain his shot caused a minor injury, but he wasn’t exactly operating on the same level as Hayes either. C.U.N.T.’s were trained to shoot for center mass—not for fancy trick shots like the one he’d just pulled off.

Luckily, he’d been right, and while the wound was bleeding sluggishly, at least the bullet had exited cleanly.

“Your days of underwear modeling are over, but you’ll live.” Beckett snickered to himself.

“He could bleed out!” The female thief quickly transitioned from panicked and crying, to angry and belligerent.

Beckett found it amusing and gave her a broad smile.