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Except, where he headed wouldn’t give her a decent view of the washroom and so she struggled.
“What? Are you in trouble?”
“No. At least… hell, I don’t know. It’s crazy.”
“What’s crazy? In case it matters, I’m an FBI agent and you’re attitude is ringing alarm bells. So talk. I’m listening.”
“Shush. There he is. Christ, he’s got the gun out.” Lori pushed away from her pursuer and headed toward the kid who’d retrieved the gun from his backpack. He’d begun to aim it in the direction where most of the kids were congregated.
Shoes flying, Lori was on him, riding his back, her hands clutching the weapon and forcing it in the air. Getting an elbow in the face didn’t faze her or force her to release her hold. Instead, she jammed her feet into his groin and heard him scream in pain. Before he could wrench himself free from her death-grip, the man who’d questioned her earlier came to her rescue.
With his gun poking the kid in the temple, voicing a growled warning, he whispered, “FBI. Let go of the fucking gun or you’re dead. Do it now.”
Lori quit breathing. Waiting, she sensed her prisoner’s hesitation, and so she added to the threat. “Buddy-boy, if you don’t let go, I’ll grind my fucking heels so deep into your pecker, you’ll scream like a little girl. Got it?”
The kid let go, all fight leaving his body. Once the AK-15 was safely in her hands, she hopped off and let the sobbing kid drop to the floor. Passing the rifle over to the agent, her strength gone, she sank beside the boy. Only then did she hear his mutters. “It’s okay, they can’t stop us both.”
Chapter Three
“What?” Beau sensed a problem. Forcing the sobbing kid to stay on the floor in front of him, he waited as the chubby guard rushed in their direction. With his eyes flaring in fright, the school employee scurried to the scene.
Having been alerted by the screams of the other students and watching the battle while hiding behind a plant, he now deemed it safe to approach.
Beau grinned without any humor as he turned to the fellow in his snazzy uniform and issued orders. “Call 911. Give me a zip tie.”
The guard pulled out his phone, dropped it from his shaking hands, wrenched at his belt and after a struggle to loosen them, handed over a gleaming new shiny pair of handcuffs.
“Christ.” Beau shook his head, keeping his thoughts to himself. He saw the woman on the floor pull over the dropped cellphone and push in the numbers to call the police. By her tone, and the words she chose to use, he suspected she had some law training.
Before he forced the kid to his feet to use the handcuffs, he asked the guard, “Do you have keys for this thing?”
“Yes. Yes, sir. I do, sir. Have them right here.” Obviously deciding he needed to kick in and do his job, he wrestled the boy’s arms in front of him and held them for Beau.
“Jesus.” Beau shook his head and took over. He twisted the kids hands behind his back, added the cuffs, and then forced him to take a seat at a nearby bench. Then he pointed at the guard. “You stay… watch him.”
When the still spooked guard struggled to get his gun out of his holster, Beau waited impatiently. Finally, losing patience, he snapped, “Undo the flap.”
Following instructions, the flustered protector was able to retrieve his weapon and pointed it at the kid.
Beau leaned over so only the guard could hear, “Hey, buddy, leave the safety on.”
“Yes, sir.” Holding the weapon in both hands as one might see on TV, he pointed it at the prisoner.
Beau pushed it down toward the floor. “Just make sure he doesn’t try to run. Don’t shoot the kid. If he moves, just stop him. Got it.”
“Got it.” A warble in the voice didn’t inspire confidence.
Then Beau went to help the woman who’d ended the possible massacre. She’d stayed on the floor, wiping at the blood on her face from where an elbow had connected. “Here, let me give you a hand.” He reached down only to have his arm rudely slapped away.What the hell?
“No time for me. He’s talking into an earpiece. There’s another shooter.”
Chapter Four
Lori felt like she’d been kicked in the face by a mule. The kid’s elbow must have caught her in the right place to leave the most damage.
Putting pressure on the pain, she pretended it didn’t hurt. It was a trick her dad had taught her as a youngster when she’d fall and scrape various places on her body, something she did often. He said it would relieve the throbbing and damned if it didn’t work.
She jumped up and followed the agent who’d heard her words and had stalked over to the kid in handcuffs.
