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“Team one,” I said. “You’re with me. Team two, I want you to go to the back entrance. We’re taking the roof.”
“Fuck yeah,” Abe fell into step directly behind me.
The other four fell into step behind him, and we marched up to the side wall that had the ladder that led to the roof.
Careful with our step, we made our way to the large room where the hostages were being held in the bank.
We’d not taken this route earlier due to the multitude of skylights in the roof. The stability of the area in which we’d have to move was unlikely to hold all of our weight.
“Trinidad,” I said. “You and Abe walk around the windows, make sure to be careful of the shadows you cast, and get in place.”
The two moved, silent as shadows.
“The rest of you spread out among the windows,” I urged.
I dropped down to the closest skylight, not quite close enough that I could see directly in, and waited.
“Team two, set?” I asked.
“Set,” Bastien confirmed.
“Numbers,” I said. “What’s it looking like?”
“Kid’s okay, I can see him now in his mother’s arms. She has her hand over his mouth,” Numbers murmured.
“Fatima?” I asked.
“I can see all four hostages now, but I can’t see the suspect.”
“Fuck!”
I didn’t know who said that, so my heart pounded in my throat for a few long seconds before Fatima came on and said, “Ulrich fell down the stairs.”
A little levity rolled through the group.
“I’m okay,” Ulrich wheezed.
I used the mirror in my pocket to push over the skylight, and I saw the shooter Fatima had identified earlier.
I also saw the large hole in the wall above the mother who was now holding on so tight to her toddler that he was red with indignation.
I put the kid at about three or so years old. He was much bigger than Forest, but I could tell that he was confused, not comprehending anything about the situation he was currently in.
“Hey, Chief, did you get the specs on the glass yet?” I asked my father.
My dad was here because he was first on scene because he’d been on his way home from work.
“Tempered,” he answered. “Breaks like normal glass just fine, according to the blueprints with the city.”
I jerked my chin at Abe and said, “Abe, do you have a clear shot?”
Normally, we would have tried a little harder to get him to talk to the negotiator, but his utter lack of communication, and his erratic behavior, had pushed me to make this decision earlier than we usually would have.
We’d been at it for two hours, and not once had he agreed to talk to us.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Thuy,” I said. “Get ready to provide backup. Team two, stand by.”
