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Still, she mouths her words.Something-the-shot.
“I don’t… I…”
She stares straight past me, over my shoulder. And though I know I shouldn’t, I peer back to find Archer, pinned down by a dozen cops, his eyes desperately on his wife.
He wants to come to her. Heneedsto come to her, the way I would need to come to Mia if she was inside. But no one will let him. We can’t. Because if he was this close to Minka, he’d have already grabbed her. Wrapped her up tight.
And potentially,probably, become the reason Slade shoots.
Closing my eyes and running my tongue along my bottom lip, I twist back to Minka, and open them again to find her pointed gaze. Her unflinching bravery.
“Gluten-free food,” she presses. “No cross contamination. Plus medicine.”
Carefully, she extends her free arm so the sheet of paper sits between us. The ends ripple when a breeze flitters through. Her fingers press tight, so her fingertips are white. But the purple of her wrist borders on black.
“Food. And medicine. And make sure you get everything needed to administer the meds.”
When I take the note, she swallows and lowers her arm. “Speak with a doctor to make sure you have everything.”
“Like… needles?” I open the paper and ignore Slade completely. His hand. His gun. His twitching finger. Instead, I think of the times I’ve watched this woman slide a needle into her own vein. I remember the things she needs. “Tourniquet?” I rasp. “Things like that?”
She nods. Short. Sharp. Fast. Then her breath rushes out when Slade yanks her back through the door.
“Have they taken my Suzie into surgery yet?” Slade’s voice, frantic and crackling, brings my pulse racing again. “Have they started?”
“I don’t…” I re-fold the paper and try to see through the black plastic covering the door. “I don’t know, Mr. Slade. I’m not involved in all th—”
“Well, get involved!” He squeezes the trigger and makes me jump a full foot into the air when a bullet pierces the wall, and chips of old stone fly like shrapnel.
Mayet cries out when he tugs her back and slams the door shut, while behind me, uniforms run in every fucking direction but the one they’re supposed to go.
“Who’s hit?” Captain Bower grabs a cop who carries a shield and uses him for cover as he charges toward the base of the stairs. He hides behind Kevlar and shouts to be heard above the noise. “Detective Fletcher, are you hit?”
“No.” I glance back to the bank, but the door is closed, and Mayet is once again hidden from me. Frustrated, I turn on my heels and snatch up my helmet as I go. “No one is hit. Fuck.”
I grab my guns as I descend. One, then the next. I put them back together, and place them in their holsters, then I stop at the bottom of the stairs and nod toward Archer’s guards so they release him.
“She’s alive.” I present the list to the next guy who darts my way, then I grab Archer’s shoulder and turn him so we can keep walking. So we can get space. “She’s injured,” I tell him. “Bruised arm, wrists, and neck. He’s shaky and has no fucking clue how to get out of this mess he’s made.”
“He’s volatile,” Archer snarls. “That makes him dangerous.”
“Yep.”
As Tim races closer, I turn in so we’re three. Tight. Private.
“One man down on the western side of the building,” I relay. “Approximately two hundred, two-twenty pounds. Severe bleeding. He must be our GSW. Aubree was with him, from what I could see through the gap.”
I bring my gaze up to Tim’s and swallow. “She has a lot of blood on her. But I don’t know if it’s hers or his.” Then I look to Arch. “Mayet’s on a fuckin’ mission, man. Shechoseto be brought to the door. You know she did. She’s the doc, and they’ve got a list of medical needs coming out before food.”
“She’s taking charge,” Tim murmurs. “Settling in for a long night?”
“Deescalating,” I surmise. “What’s up with the guy’s kid?”
“She needs surgery.” Standing tall, Arch peers over when Captain Bower barks out orders. He firms his lips as cops scramble, and shakes his head as he comes back around to face us. “Hospital is saying no.”
“What the fuck do you mean they’re saying no?” Tim growls. “Why would they say no? He has hostages!”
“They’re just… saying no.” Sighing, Arch reaches up and scrubs his hand across his face. “They’re refusing.”
