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“Oh gosh.” I press a hand to my chest and nod. “I’m so glad she’s doing okay.”
Across the lobby, Slade’s eyes water with emotion.
“Do you have an update on our food and supplies, Detective? There’s a kid in here who’s getting pretty hungry, and some others who need their meds. Things are getting kinda dire.”
“And you?” he demands. “How are you doing, Mayet?”
I firm my lips before they tremble, and close my eyes so, for just a second, I can pretend he’s right here beside me. Whispering into my ear. “In need of medication,” I rasp. “Soon.”
“Fuck.” Archer’s frustration, his fear, explodes on that single word. “We’re working on it, okay? I promise. They’re dragging their feet out here, because they wanna wait the asshole out, but I’ve got your factor pack. I had someone bring it to me. I just have to get it in there.”
“Detective—”
“Or you out here. How long until things are really bad?”
“I don’t…” I gently shake my head side to side. “I don’t know. I’ve always been pretty careful about this stuff.”
“Are you allowed to go to the bathroom? Does he let anyone out of his sight?”
“No.” I look to the child, to the way he squirms where he sits. He needs to pee, but he won’t leave his mother. And though Slade gave the boy permission to go an hour ago, he didn’t grant the same to the mom, so now they’re both stuck, suffering.
“What’s going on?” Slade’s commanding voice makes me jump. “What else is he saying?”
“Nothing. He’s just telling me they’re working on the medicines and stuff.”
“Put him on speaker.”
“I made a call to Sophia Solomon,” Archer rushes out. “She’s working on getting eyes inside the building. As soon as she does, I’ll be able to see you. I can—”
“Put him on speaker!” Slade charges forward, red-faced and angry.
“I’m gonna get you out, Minka.”
“Hey!” Slade swings his arm out when he’s close enough, and slaps the buttons on the receiver. “I said put him on speaker.”
“We have two dozen pizzas on the way.” Archer’s tone is flat, unemotional, and bordering on bored as his voice echoes from the speaker and fills the bank. “And we got this other restaurant to make a celiac-friendly platter with meats and cheeses and things like that. We have most of your requested medications collected. But we’re still counting supplies: needles, bandages, and whatnot.”
“Detective.” Slade snatches the handset from me and takes the call off speaker. “You have thirty minutes to get that food and medication inside this building. I want everything placed in a stack at the front door, and then I want your men pushed back at least fifty yards. I’ll send a single hostage out to get everything. If you shoot, you shoot an innocent. If you take my hostage, I’ll kill one of the others. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” I hear Archer’s acknowledgment, even with the phone pressed to Slade’s ear. “I hear you.”
“If you try to talk to my hostage, I kill one inside. If you screw with the food, I kill a hostage. If you’re only forty-nine yards from the bank’s door, I kill a hostage. If you rip us off or don’t provide everything we asked,I kill a hostage. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Detective?”
“I understand,” he murmurs flatly. “I’ll make sure get you what you need.”
“Good. You now have twenty-nine minutes.” My captor slams the phone down and meets my stare with his own.
He pants—rage, worry, anxiety—but spins with a frenzy when the middle-aged coward tries to make a run for it and his shoes skidding on the tile gives him away.
“You piece of shit!” Slade wildly swings his gun around and squeezes off a round, which pings off the floor.
Shrapnel bounces back up, piercing the runner’s thigh, and he drops, clutching his leg and squealing like a feral pig. “You shot me!” While hostages scream in terror, the cowardly man sobs and rolls, writhes, and chokes on his cries. “You fucking shot me!”
“You would’ve left everyone else behind to save yourself.” Slade strides toward the injured man and stands over him with rage bubbling in his eyes. “What’s your name?”
“You’re a—”
Slade points his gun and shouts so spittle sprays across the man’s chest and face. “What’s yourname?”
