Punish the Deed (27 page)

Fifty-Two

Lucinda jogged over to brief the commander on the conversation. Jake leaned against the wall awaiting her return. When he saw the escalation of her hand movements, he knew it was not going well. He jogged over to give her support.

“Isn’t that good news, Commander?” he asked as soon as he got in audible distance.

“I was just telling the Lieutenant that time was running out. About ten minutes before the hour’s up.”

“Damn it to hell,” Lucinda blurted out.

Jake laid a hand on her forearm and said, “Commander, the situation has changed. We need to give this a bit more time to work its way out.”

The commanding officer puffed out his chest and squinted his eyes at Jake. “Why is it every time you say something, it sounds like a threat?”

Jake sighed, “Commander, that’s your problem. Not mine. I have never threatened you. I’ve merely stated the facts.”

“So you think we should let that asshole pull all the strings. And we just sit out here biding our time, waiting for him to do whatever it is he’s gonna do?”

“Pretty much,” Jake said as he stuck his hands on his hips and glared.

“Whatever,” the commander said with a shrug. “But it ain’t on my head.”

“No, sir,” Jake said. “Neither one of us want you to take any responsibility for our decisions.”

“That’s good on paper but you two get to leave town and I’ll be the one they kick. You know that and I know that.”

Lucinda jumped back into the conversation. “So, what’s your point? I’m local. I’ve carried baggage that wasn’t mine. But it’s part of the job.”

Before the commander could respond, the muffled sound of a shot rang through the air. They all turned to the men by the building. One of them shouted, “Gun shot. Inside.”

“Shit!” the commanding officer shouted. “Damn me for listening to you. We’re going in.” The commander got on the communications line and ordered the SWAT team into position.

As Lucinda and Jake watched the black-clad, helmet-wearing gladiators move around the building and prepare for an assault, Lucinda said, “This is wrong, Jake. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. We need more time.”

“I know but we’re not going to get it.”

Lucinda’s cell rang. “It’s him,” she hissed before answering.

“Nobody got killed,” he said.

“We can’t exactly take you on your word about that, Charles.”

“I know. But I’m still sending those kids out. They’ll tell you. I did shoot somebody. But she’s not going to die. Not unless you do something stupid.”

“If she’s shot, Charles, why don’t you just send her out with the kids?”

Murphy did not respond.

“C’mon, Charles, if she by chance dies from losing blood while you’re holding her in there, she’s gonna be a big problem for you. Send her out with the kids. It’ll give ya one less thing to worry about.”

“Okay. I don’t need her. But don’t trying anything stupid. Just come into the lobby – just you – nobody else. And tell those storm troopers gathering around the building to back off or I’ll get edgy and someone will die.”

When he disconnected the call, Lucinda turned to Jake. “Go tell the commander. I’m going in to get those kids and I’m going in now.”

She pulled one gun out of her shoulder holster and her back-up from her ankle. She carried one in each hand as she walked to the door prepared to hand them off to the officer there. Before she made it, a SWAT team member stepped in front of her. “You can’t go in there, Lieutenant. We’re ready to roll.”

“Put on the brakes and let me through.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. No can do. I have my orders.”

“You also have my gun in your ribs. I will save those two kids. And you will not stand in my way.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t tempt me. Those kids are far more important to me than you, my career and even my life. Back off.” When he didn’t move, she added, “Look at my face. You look hard and then answer this question: Do I have the face of a woman who takes risks? Huh? What do you think?”

He backed up a step and called into command central.

Lucinda wasted no time; she strode the remaining steps to the clinic, pulled open the door and handed her weapons to the nearest officer. Then she stepped inside. “I’m here, Charles. No weapons. No problems.”

From some place eerily close, Murphy said, “I hope you won’t be offended, Lieutenant, but I don’t really trust you. Dr. Hirschman will come out first and see if you’re telling me the truth. And he won’t play any games with you or hide any of your secrets. So don’t try. He sees me holding the knife to this child’s throat. He knows she’ll die.”

“No tricks from me, Charles. I’m just here for the kids.”

The dentist stepped out into the waiting room. “Sorry, Lieutenant,” he said as he placed his hands on her.

“Not a problem, sir. I understand the situation. Is anyone else dead?”

“No. But I’m not sure how long that will last.”

“Do you think we can get more people out if we keep negotiating?”

“I think he’ll probably let everyone go but me.”

“You’re the target?”

“Yes. I think that’s all that really matters to him. I’m going to die no matter what happens here. But try to get as many others out as you can first.”

A voice boomed from the back. “What you doing out there, Dentist Man? You want to get back here now or do you want me to kill a kid?”

“I’m coming,” Hirschman shouted. To Lucinda he said, “I’m trying to protect the others. I don’t know what else I can do.”

He walked through the door and into the back. Lucinda stood still waiting. Listening. Ready to move if she heard anything that indicated the level of danger to the children had increased. One minute passed. Anxiety formed beads of perspiration on her forehead and her palms. She wiped her hands on her pants. Another minute passed. Cold, clammy sweat gathered on the back of her neck, giving her chills.

Another minute passed. She heard a child’s squeak of protest and her muscles tensed for action. The door opened. Two little kids ran through it, followed by a woman in scrubs with her arm in a makeshift sling.

Lucinda hustled them all out the front door and into the arms of waiting paramedics. Then she strode across the lot to face the wrath of the man she’d defied.
I sure hope he’s not expecting me to be remorseful.

Fifty-Three

From a distance, Lucinda could tell the commander was angry. Very angry. A clip of Elmer Fudd with a red face and smoke pouring out of his ears crossed her mind. She lowered her head to keep her amusement hidden. She stopped in front of the commander and raised her head to face him.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” he asked.

“Lieutenant Lucinda Pierce, sir.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Pierce. Just what the hell do you think you are doing?”

“I safely recovered two children and a wounded adult from an ongoing hostage situation, sir.”

“You drew a gun on one of my officers, Pierce.”

“Not exactly . . .”

“You interfered with a police operation.”

“But we did ensure the safety of three individuals because of my actions.”

“In spite of your actions, Pierce. I want you outta here.”

“This is my case, sir.”

“This is my town, Pierce.”

“And I just saved the lives of three people in your stinkin’ town.”

“I’ve already called your captain.”

“You what?”

“After you pulled a gun on my officer, I called him to find out what the hell I was dealing with.”

“And?” Lucinda snarled.

“He told me you don’t play well with others. He told me you don’t take orders well.”

It stung Lucinda to know that the Captain had said these things – sure, he’d said them to her face before, but it hurt to know he’d say it to someone outside of their immediate circle. “He seems to be able to work with me just fine.”

“I asked him about that,” the commander continued. “I asked him why he kept you around. You know what he told me?”

Lucinda wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear this or not. “I have no idea, sir.”

“He told me that you are usually right. That your instincts are good. So I asked him, what if she’s wrong? And you know what he said?”

“No, sir, I don’t.”

“He says when she’s wrong, she’s so spectacularly wrong that you won’t have a problem pinning the blame on her. Just stick her under a spotlight with a ‘Kick me’ sign on her back and the media will shred her to pieces.”

Lucinda clenched her jaw to stop the threat of a tear that wanted to form in her eye. She couldn’t even figure out why she wanted to cry. Was she hurt? Was she angry? Was she a little bit of both? She stood rigid and stared straight ahead over the commander’s head.

“It’s a tempting thought, Pierce. But we don’t do things like that over in these parts. We have rules and we follow rules. But since you’re not fixing to follow the rules, you can just get the hell out of my way.”

Lucinda fought the urge to spit out names and insults. She stood still as if she hadn’t heard a word.

“Now, Pierce. Out of here. Gone. Vacate the premises. Off my scene. Out of my town. Now!” he shouted.

Lucinda spun around on her heel, seeing a sea of faces flash in her view – jeering faces, shocked faces, empathetic faces – all staring in her direction. She marched back to the front of the building, passing Jake on the way. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Lucinda, what’s going on?”

“He ordered me off the scene.”

“You just saved three lives.”

“Ah, but I broke rules, Jake. As a Feeb, you should know rules are more important than people.”

“Hey, Lucinda, c’mon. Gimme a break. I’m on your side here. And I don’t want you leaving the scene.”

“I’m not leaving, Jake. Not unless he cuffs me and drags me out of here.”

“I’ll go talk to him.”

Lucinda barked a laugh without any humor. “Good luck with that.” She continued across the parking lot up to the wall beside the front door.

Another shot drew everyone’s attention away from Lucinda. Then the outside door to the clinic flew open and a little boy burst into the parking lot. All around the building, voices rang out, “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

Lucinda took three long steps toward the child, scooped Ricky into her arms and ran toward the paramedics. From the side of the building she heard a woman’s voice shriek, “Ricky! Ricky! Oh, thank God! Ricky!”

The little boy wriggled in Lucinda’s arms and shouted for his mother but Lucinda kept moving toward the ambulance. She sat him down in between the open doors.

“Mommy. I want my mommy!” Ricky sobbed.

Lucinda crouched down to his level. “Ricky? Ricky!”

He turned a tear-stained face to hers and with a quivering lower lip said, “I want my mommy.” Then he looked away, trying to catch sight of her.

“Ricky. Ricky. Look at me.”

“Mommy . . .”

“Ricky, please, I need to talk to you. Look at me.”

Ricky turned and saw her for the first time. He yipped like a puppy. “Did the bad man do that to you?”

“Not this bad man, Ricky. I’m okay but we need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m scared,” he cried as his shoulders shook.

“We’ll get your mommy over her in just a minute, Ricky. Did the bad man hurt you?”

Ricky shook his head. “The lady hid me.”

“Did the bad man let you leave?”

“No. He yelled at me. He told me to come back. I didn’t. And he shot his gun at me. But I ran. And he missed. I didn’t stop running. But I want my mommy, now.”

Lucinda looked over to the side lot where a woman strained to get away from a uniformed officer. She waved over and the woman was released and ran towards the ambulance. “There, Ricky, see. It’s your mommy. She’s coming. I’ll talk to you a little later, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded with a smile.

The woman reached Lucinda and said, “My boy. That’s my boy.”

Lucinda nodded and stepped away as the distraught mother wrapped her arms around Ricky, kissing the top of his head and saying his name over and over again.