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Abe aimed and fired.
The shot took the guy in the chest, right above the heart.
He went down fast, but no blood spread on the floor.
In fact, the motherfucker got right back up.
Thuy stood up and took aim, hitting the suspect in the shoulder.
The guy rolled, and just so happened to come right under my skylight.
He pulled the shotgun that he’d just so happened to keep hold of throughout it all and raised it.
The toddler’s face would forever be seared in my brain at that very second in time.
Without thought, I aimed and fired, hitting the guy in the face.
The guy’s head went back, smacking so hard into the pristine lobby floor that it bounced back up again.
Blood and brain matter went flying.
“Team two,” I said. “Clear.”
Only when all of the hostages were out did I exit the roof.
I made it down to the bottom in time to hear a reporter say, “Why did you have to kill him?”
Before I could stop myself, I said, “It was either kill him or watch him shoot a toddler in the face. Which, exactly, would you have chosen, Ms. Smith?”
I hated this reporter with a passion.
She was always screaming about how unfair and unjust the justice system was and how law enforcement was made up of a bunch of corrupt individuals who would rather have power than provide support.
Ms. Smith turned to me and glared. “You are not God!”
“No,” I said. “But I am upheld by my sworn oath to protect the innocent. And just sayin’, but a fifty-two-year-old drunk who wanted money is a whole lot less innocent than a three-year-old whose worst crime might be stealing a cookie from his brother.”
And yes, I’d heard the father, who was clearly distraught, relay that story while we stood in the parking lot getting information on the hostages.
“You…” Ms. Smith started again, but my dad smoothly and succinctly interrupted her by saying, “Ms. Smith, please respect the police line until we can get the scene fully secure.”
Ms. Smith continued to cause a ruckus, but I went back to the SWAT truck and crawled inside.
“That’s the first time anyone has refused to even speak to me,” Elise sighed.
“Don’t worry,” Fatima said as she crawled into the back with us, sniper rifle already broken down and back in its carrying case. “There’s a first time for everything.”
“Kinda sad not hearing your sweet voice, though.” Numbers got in behind Fatima. “That’s the only time I ever hear it.”
“Fuck off, Numbers.”
Numbers gave a wave of his hand as if to say ‘see?’
The rest of the crew filed in, and I got started on my paperwork as we headed back to the station.
It took me two hours once we’d gotten to the station to finish up, and by the time I was heading out to the truck it was well past one in the morning,
By the time I arrived home, however, it was nearly two due to a wreck on the interstate that caused traffic to be at an almost standstill.
