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Talia fortified herself for whatever they found, but following Mike and Cisco was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. All she wanted to do was rush ahead, especially when she heard that concussive gunfire, repeatedly, and in the vicinity of her sister’s classroom. But she hoped and prayed it was Doug draining the guy’s ammo.
If Mike believed, so could she.
Before they breached the jeopardized hallway, Mike called a halt, moving forward himself and ducking low to risk a glance through the bottom glass panels of the separating doors. After a good long look, he moved back stealthily.
“Our perp is twenty yards down on the left side of the hallway, taking cover behind a partially opened steel door.”
“Janitor’s closet,” Talia whispered. “It’s directly across from my sister’s classroom.”
“And if I’m correct, there are two more occupied rooms between hers and the gym. Is that right?” Mike asked.
Talia knew he’d studied the schematic and was simply confirming his understanding of the layout.
“You’ve got it,” she said, her voice shaky in its low cadence. “But there’s a big equipment closet between the final classroom and the gym, and it has doors that open into both places.”
Cisco spoke up. “Excellent. Doug’s smart. He’ll have asked all these questions of your sister. And…I know him. While he’s engaging the shooter, he’ll have sent her and her students into the next room, then instructed them to gather up those people and the ones after them, eventually sequestering everyone in that equipment closet.”
Talia agreed. “It will be a tight fit with sixty kids, but it’s big enough. They’ll manage.”
“Are the doors lockable?” Mike asked.
“Not from the inside,” Talia informed him. “And not from the outside without a key, but…” She felt her optimism rise. “That’s the place where the coaches pile all the thick gym mats. My sister’s not dumb. She’ll know to drag them in front of the doors and line the walls with them to keep bullets from possible penetration.”
That was, if her sister was functional. Who knew if this would have Pixie’s anxiety ramping up and spiraling out of control. Talia chose to believe it wouldn’t. She figured her sibling would do everything in her power to fight through her own issues to keep all her kids safe.
“Let’s say that what you surmise is true,” Mike speculated. “It means we still have three full classrooms on the right between us and the shooter, three on the left before his position, and two more between him and the gym, also on the left. That’s a lot of teachers and kids we can’t risk. I say we attempt to deescalate. It’s time to bring in a negotiator.”
Mike keyed his mic. “Mason?”
“Sothard up,” Mason immediately replied.
Mike explained the situation succinctly, then asked Mason’s opinion.
Mason’s frustration came out loud and clear over the air. “I’ve already thought of that, but our negotiator isn’t here. He had a medical emergency and couldn’t make it. Still…” Mason sighed. “Spencer’s not fully certified yet, but my brother has been undergoing training in hostage mediations. If we need to initiate a conversation with our shooter, Spence is our only option right now.”
“Send him,” Mike barked. He already knew Mason agreed, or the chief wouldn’t have brought it up.
Time ticked slowly until a door let out a low hiss, opening down the hall from where they all crouched.
“On your six,” Spencer keyed into their mics so he wouldn’t get shot.
“Copy that,” Mike replied, and in seconds, Spence ghosted up behind them.
“Mase told me the situation.” He looked grim, but confident. “Let’s see if I can talk the guy down.”
“You got it. E-squad,” Mike barked. “Move to the right side of these doors, A-squad stay to the left. I want cover on Spence at all times.”
Everyone moved quickly and silently, then Mike gave Spencer the nod. He moved in low, taking a knee and opening the door a scant two inches.
“Peter Bentensil,” he called out. “This is Officer Spencer Sothard of Downeast SWAT. We have the building surrounded, and will take every precaution to assure there are no casualties. All we want is for everyone to leave this situation safely, including you. What can we do to facilitate that outcome?”
“Fuck you!” Came the loud reply. “Nothing’s going to make me surrender. I don’t give a shit if I die. I haven’t got anything to lose. Do you understand? The assholes I worked for wouldn’t pay me enough to live on, then they got mad when I looked around in their desks for a few coins. So screw them, and screw you, too.”
“I understand your frustration,” Spence’s calm voice replied. “But the people in this school aren’t part of your beef, Peter. These are innocent kids and teachers. And if you want to hear some truths, these teachers are probably as poorly paid as you are. They don’t deserve to be terrorized. They’re just trying to do their jobs, and you’re scaring them.”
Silence met that statement, so Spence continued. “Is there any way you can let us evacuate the classrooms in this hallway, then we can talk some more?”
The man gave a bitter laugh. “You mean lose my hostages? I don’t think so. It’ll be over too quickly then, and nobody will know why I did this.”
