by Cindi Myers
Richardson turned from Derek to Joe. “You’re the negotiator, right? The city has a good one of our own, but she had a baby a couple of days ago. She was still going to come in but I put a stop to that immediately.”
Joe nodded. “That was the right decision. I won’t let you down, Sheriff. I’ll do my very best to get everyone out safely.”
“Do you have building plans for the bank, Sheriff?” Derek asked.
“Yes.” He gestured over to a younger man who brought them over. Lillian joined them, and she, Derek and Hatton were soon poring over the plans.
Joe took a deep breath, looking out at the small bank. He couldn’t see anything happening inside. The Denver County police didn’t have a sizable SWAT team, but it did appear like they had a couple of marksmen. He knew Derek and Lillian were both expert sharpshooters also.
He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Why were the hostage-takers here at this particular bank? Had they tried to rob it then got stuck so took hostages? Robbing a bank wasn’t a very smart move and didn’t have a high success rate, but people did desperate things sometimes.
There were kids inside. That upped the ante a lot. Joe’s natural inclination was to march up to the door right now, even without backup. But he knew to set wheels in motion before Derek and the team were ready could spell disaster for everyone.
“Derek, there are kids, man,” Joe said softly. He knew he didn’t have to remind his friend of that—with his pregnant wife, it would be in the forefront of Derek’s mind, too—but couldn’t help himself. “They’ve already been in there a long time. Let me know which direction you’ll be coming from if it goes south and I’ll get started. At least get the kids out.”
“There’s not a lot of good options with a bank this old that was built in the fifties,” Derek muttered, studying the plans more intently. “It looks like the roof will be our best bet. Probably a ventilation shaft. We might have to send Lillian through alone if it’s too small.”
Lillian alone would be plenty enough to put down two tangos. Joe nodded at her; she winked at him. Despite her beauty, he had never tried to make a move on her. He knew better than to hit on a woman who made a living shooting people.
“Okay,” Joe said. “What’s today’s go-signal?”
The team always had a phrase and action, both meant only to be used as a last resort, that Joe could use to signal SWAT that the situation inside was out of hand and they needed to use deadly force.
“Word is sunglasses.” Derek glanced up from the plans. “Action is putting your sunglasses on your head.”
Joe’s shades were in the pocket of his shirt. Unlike the other Omega members, all wearing full combat gear and bulletproof vests, Joe was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans and casual brown boots. It was important that he seem as normal and nonthreatening as possible when he approached the hostage-takers.
“Be careful in there, Joe.” It was Jon who looked up from the building plans this time. “We’ve got a lot of blinds here. I know you’re good on the fly, but watch your six.”
Joe nodded, already beginning to walk toward the building. “Those kids and their mother will be coming out first. Be ready for them.”
He blew out a breath through gritted teeth, forcing his shoulders then jaw to relax. Coming in tense—or at least looking overly tense—never helped. There were two guys in there who needed to be heard. Joe wanted to do that. But even more he wanted to get the hostages out safely. Every one of them.
Joe walked up to the glass door of the bank and knocked, then held his hands up in a position of surrender so they could see he wasn’t armed. And he waited.
He was about to become best buddies with two potentially dangerous guys.
Just another day at the office for Joe Matarazzo.
Copyright © 2016 by Janie Crouch
ISBN-13: 9781488005978
PhD Protector
Copyright © 2016 by Cynthia Myers
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