Midnight Hero

by Diana Duncan

  Keeping to the shadows, they crept toward One Hour Photo, intending to fill their squirt guns. He’d feel better when he had a weapon again.

  Using the crowbar Bailey had added to her pack while she was waiting for him to set off the sprinklers, he broke into the booth and then the locked cabinet containing acetic acid.

  “Careful not to get any of this stuff on you,” Bailey cautioned. “It’s extremely caustic.”

  They loaded the four squirt guns and then exited the booth.

  Bailey swayed on her feet, and he grabbed her shoulders. “Steady, sweetheart.”

  She pressed her palm to her forehead. “I’m a bit lightheaded.”

  He rolled his wrist and consulted his watch. “No wonder. It’s nearly seventeen hundred and you haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day. Not to mention the toll of stress and trauma. Once I get you out the access door to safety, make them feed you, okay?”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “You need to eat. Promise me you will.”

  “Okay.” Still too listless, she glanced toward the mall’s main doors. “I guess we head back toward the bank now.”

  Without warning, an enormous explosion shook the building. Grinding crashes rolled up the walkway from the bank end of the mall, and then a series of smaller crashes echoed in succession.

  Bailey jumped. “What was that?”

  He had to force his heart out of his throat and back into his chest before he could speak. He sidled around the booth, peering toward the sound, but didn’t see anything. “I don’t know. But it didn’t sound good.”

  “Uh, Con? What is this?”

  He circled back, and found her staring at a glowing red dot on her chest. He looked down, and a red dot appeared on his chest. “Laser sights! Someone has high-powered rifles trained on us!”

  Bailey gasped. “They’re going to shoot us!”

  Chapter 7

  5:00 p.m.

  Aidan O’Rourke shivered in the stormy winter night as he strode across River View Mall’s south parking lot. Freezing rain pelted the top of his head, the backs of his hands. The murky rows of mall windows, backlit by emergency lamps, were barely visible in the icy gloom. He dismissed the storm, just as he dismissed the threatening emotional whirlwind inside.

  He assigned uniformed patrol officers to positions on the outer perimeter by the headlights of a patrol car. Until Captain Greene arrived, Aidan was high-ranking officer. Team leader and incident commander by default. He was too busy to think about anything other than the job. Too busy to worry. Too busy to feel. That’s what he kept telling himself.

  Maybe, eventually, he’d believe it.

  His exhaled breath fogged to white mist in the cold air as he studied the assembled Kevlar-suited SWAT team. The members of Alpha Squad…excluding himself and his younger brother Con. Con was trapped inside the mall with a crew of bank robbers. Unarmed and defenseless.

  Aidan snorted. Unarmed, yes, but about as defenseless as a blowtorch in a dynamite factory. If there was any man in the world who could triumph over nasty odds, it was Conall Patrick O’Rourke. Aidan would bet his own life on it.

  Con’s life was resting on it. As well as Bailey’s. And an undetermined number of hostages. Every man standing in front of him cared for and respected his brother. But Aidan loved him. With bone-deep, fierce, abiding loyalty. He and Con had forged a nearly inseparable bond since birth. A heart connection shared between all four O’Rourke boys that grew stronger by the day. No criminals were going to steal that from them. No matter the price, he would get his brother out alive.

  Dozens of patrol cars poured into the parking lot. The massive war wagon rumbled across the asphalt, loaded with tactical weapons, specialized siege-and-breeching equipment and SWAT officers from other teams.

  Aidan waited until the armored vehicle discharged its passengers before he continued giving orders. “Liam.” He pointed at O’Rourke brother number three. “Work Murphy around the inner perimeter sniffing for explosives. Scout building access and report back with all available intel.”

  Liam and his ears-up German Shepherd hurried away. Baby brother Grady, part-time SWAT officer and part-time paramedic, was also present. Packing his MP5 submachine gun and his stethoscope, Grady was equally proficient with both. New Year’s Eve at the mall had become a family affair.

  Aidan turned back to his ready warriors. “We’ll establish the command post…” He glanced across the street. The command post needed to be close in order to direct the action, but not close enough to endanger the occupants. A pink neon signed glowed above the door of one store, a small, cheerful beacon in the icy blackness. “At the Krispy Krunch doughnut shop.”

  A wry grin slanted his lips. Con would appreciate the irony. Never one to take himself too seriously, his brother loved cop humor.

  Aidan pressed the vibration mic of his headset more firmly over his vocal chords and spoke. “Command to Alpha Five. Ten-twelve, prelim status check. Over.”

  “Alpha Five. Intel imminent.” Hunter Garrett, the team’s regular scout and sniper responded. Even after years living on the West Coast, a hint of North Carolina woods drawled in his slow, exact baritone. The tawny-haired man’s trigger finger was as even as his cadence, his cool, gunfighter’s eyes as precise. “Moving to high ground. Visual confirmation, ASAP. Over.”

  “Ten-four. Command standing by. Over and out.” Aidan adjusted his earpiece and quelled his impatience. During an incident, not even the most minor detail could be rushed. Waiting the bad guys out was the one factor civilians, and sometimes even top brass, didn’t comprehend. The public and upper echelons often demanded immediate results. But a hasty, aggressive assault only made people dead. Both hostages and cops.

  “Cain, reporting in.” The negotiator stepped forward, and gratitude trickled through chinks in Aidan’s internal shield. Wyatt Cain was a shrewd negotiator, with uncanny instincts and a cool head under fire.

  “Wyatt, the suspects have popped the phone lines. Attempt to establish communication. Try to determine hostage count and condition, and obtain a list of demands. Get them talking. Keep them talking.” As long as they were talking, they weren’t killing.

  “Ten-four.” Wyatt strode off.

  “Excuse me.” An authoritative female voice demanded his attention.

  He spun around and came face-to-face with a woman. She appeared to be a few years younger than his mother, tall, regal, with blue eyes as icy as the freezing rain pummeling his head. “I assume you are the person in charge?”

  Great, just what he needed. A curious bystander or, worse, an irate neighbor complaining about all the noise. “Yes. You need to vacate the premises immediately, ma’am.”

  The brunette clutched her fur coat more tightly to her chest, and fear slashed her arrogant mask. “I’m Dr. Ellen Chambers. My daughter Bailey works in the mall. I’ve been trying to reach her for hours.” She paused to clear the tremor from her voice. “You just mentioned hostages. What’s happened?”

  She had his immediate attention and sincere empathy. They both had loved ones in the hot zone. “Dr. Chambers, I’m Officer Aidan O’Rourke. Let’s move across the street to the command center. You look like you could use some hot coffee, and the family liaison officer will update you on what we know so far.”

  “O’Rourke?” Her voice frosted over, colder than her eyes, as she studied him. “The resemblance is unmistakable. You’re related to Conall.”

  “Yes, ma’am. My brother Con is dating your daughter. He’s also inside the mall.”

  “I might have known.” Dislike hardened her sharp features. “Trouble sparks in that boy’s wake. Along with a lot of dangerous pheromones. If I were a betting woman, I’d wager my Russian fox coat Conall O’Rourke got my daughter into this mess.”

  “Command, this is Alpha Five.” Hunter’s transmission broke over Aidan’s headset. “Snipers in position. Ready with that ten-twelve. Over.”

  About damn time. Aidan held up a
hand that wasn’t as steady as he would have liked to Dr. Chambers. “Command. Go ahead, Alpha Five. Over.”

  “I have a confirmed visual. Alpha One is signaling for all he’s worth.” Aidan heard the grin of pride in Hunter’s voice. “He might be flying solo, but he’s already taken out two suspects. Over.”

  “Ten-four. Continue surveillance.” Sweet relief streamed through Aidan. He closed his eyes and breathed a brief, silent prayer of thanks. Then he confronted Dr. Chambers’s antagonistic gaze. “No, ma’am. Con did not get Bailey into this mess. But he will get her out.”

  Inside the mall, crouched behind the One Hour Photo booth, Bailey watched Con’s capable hands begin to execute a graceful, complicated ballet. “What are you doing?”

  “The red dots…the laser sights fixed on us? They’re coming from the parking lot. Alpha Team’s snipers can see us as well through their night vision scopes as if we were standing right in front of them. I’m telling them what’s going on.”

  “How do you know it’s them, and what they’re doing?”

  “For one thing, if bad guys were behind those rifles, we’d already be dead. As far as knowing what SWAT is up to, we’ve set up incident sites together so many times, we could all do it in our sleep.” In response to Con’s hand motion, the red dot on her chest bobbed back and forth, and he grinned. “Wave to Hunter, sweetheart.”

  Hunter Garrett. The wide-shouldered, soft-spoken cop with a golden mane of hair and the menacing grace of a stalking lion. His sharp, blue-gray eyes didn’t miss a trick, and his southern-bred manners were impeccable. He had a face as beautiful as an angel and the unerring trigger finger of the devil. If Hunter had his rifle trained on her, she had nothing to worry about. She sent him a wave, along with a wan smile.

  “The boys in black are on site and ready to kick bank-robber butt.”

  Wild hope cut through the dulling edge of pain and terror. “Will they break down the door, storm in and rescue us now?”

  He laughed. “Only on TV. When engaged in a standoff, usually the longer the scenario drags on, the better.” He shook his head. “No, we’re in for a wait.”

  “What about Syrone and the hostages? Syrone needs a hospital, and this kind of stress can’t be good for Nan or the baby.”

  “We need time for the suspects to relax and climb off the razor edge of reactive behavior. Time for SWAT to plan and rehearse a dynamic entry if needed.” Con rubbed his hand over his hair. “Time buys lives, darlin’.”

  Her emotions seesawed from high to low for the millionth time. “Feels like we’ve been trapped in here forever.”

  He moved as if to take her in his arms. His expression unreadable, he checked himself. “I know it’s been tough, and you’re feeling rocky. But the cavalry is here. We’ll get you out to them, and then you can stand down.”

  Shame washed over her. She’d reacted badly to the fight, and Con was suffering the effects. Yet, as always, his thoughts were focused on her safety. If only they had time to work things out. “Con, listen…I—”

  “No time to talk.” He pivoted away from the doors. “Let’s go.”

  Frustration and unhappiness churned inside her. No time for anything but endless flight, unceasing fear. Another crouching sprint up a gloomy corridor. Though the sinking pit in her stomach already told her the answer, she had to ask. “Are you coming out with me?”

  “SWAT needs eyes and ears inside. I’m elected.”

  She couldn’t leave with everything unresolved between them. What if the worst happened and she never saw Con again? She didn’t want his last thoughts of her to hurt. She drew a shaky breath. “Too bad you can’t decline the nomination.”

  “Other than the fact we won’t be together, I don’t want to. This is what I do.”

  Yes, it was. She’d learned in the last few hours exactly how capable he was at his job. And how hard and gritty the work. Bailey stomped down her roiling emotions. She could not, would not, think about how awful it would be walking out that door without him. She refused to be further hindrance. She’d have to snatch a few seconds to tell him her feelings before they separated. Once outside, she could indulge in a nice, quiet, private nervous breakdown. For now, hold it together. “What’s the plan?”

  “A couple of armed team members will be waiting for you outside the access door. The negotiator will create a distraction, and you’ll be free before you know it. Run to them. Don’t hesitate, don’t stop and don’t look back.”

  Another sprint up the mall, another fifty-yard dash toward freedom. Panting, she leaned against the shoe store. Running with the heavy vest on was exhausting her rapidly dwindling resources. The going was also slower and tougher now that the floor was wet. Behind her, Con was barely breathing hard.

  She shivered and rubbed her arms through the thin silk blouse. The chill was growing more bone-rattling by the moment. She hoped the robbers spared a thought to Letty’s age and were keeping her warm. Of course, if Con was right and they didn’t plan to let her go, they wouldn’t care. Bailey squelched the horrible thought. Concentrate on here and now.

  “No talking from here on. We’ll have to use hand signals.”

  In order to reach the hidden access panel, they again had to cross the wide open space by the back doors. Logically, one would think that after hours of constant terror, a person would get used to it. Maybe grow numb.

  She could testify that wasn’t the case.

  Bailey in front, Con behind, they crawled on hands and knees under the bank windows. Rustling sounds, rapid footsteps and the sharp tang of cigarette smoke drifted out the open doorway.

  “Filthy habit, smoking,” Letty’s calm soprano reprimanded. “It’ll kill you one of these days, young man.”

  Bailey wanted to laugh and weep at the same time. Her friend was alive, and still very much in possession of her indomitable spirit.

  “Pipe down, Grandma.” The graveled Bronx accent belonged to the man she’d encountered in the parking lot. “I got enough problems, I don’t need any more grief from you.”

  “I need to use the restroom.” Nan’s soft request was also calm.

  “We’re kinda busy at the moment, lady,” Bronx snarled.

  “I really can’t wait very long.”

  “I can escort her,” Mike supplied, sounding a lot shakier than the women.

  “Oh, right. Like that’s going to happen in this century.”

  “Hey, Tony, you were right about the C-4.” A second man’s voice, steeply pitched with excitement broke in. “Popped that vault slicker than snot on a banister. As soon as we get the dough loaded, we can finish it and get the hell out of here.”

  C-4? That must have been the explosion and first crash they’d heard. The robbers had grown desperate and blown the vault open. Finish it? Did that mean what she suspected? Bailey shivered again.

  “Attention, in the bank!” Wyatt Cain, the hostage negotiator, shouted from outside. He must be using a megaphone because his mellow baritone echoed through the deserted mall, loud and clear. “This is Riverside PD. The SWAT team has the mall surrounded. There is no way out.”

  A chorus of vile epithets spat from the men inside the bank.

  “Dammit! Doesn’t it just figure?” the man identified as Tony swore. “My last, biggest and most brilliant job. My farewell bash, and there have to be mouse turds in the punch bowl.”

  “Put down your weapons and surrender,” Wyatt continued. “Nobody will get hurt, and we’ll all go home.”

  That was the signal. While the robbers were distracted by the announcement, Bailey and Con crawled around the corner of the bank.

  “Surrender this, pig,” a different man’s voice challenged, and rough male laughter sounded.

  Con and Bailey ran past the fountain to Santa’s sleigh, which had tipped on its side. Water droplets beaded the intricate metal runners. Fallen reindeer lay drunkenly in the soggy cotton batting that was supposed to resemble snow. She peeked around the reindeer toward the access panel.


  Oh no!

  Stunned, she turned to Con, widening her eyes into a what now? look.

  He peered around her. She watched disbelief, frustration and anger chase over his face as he saw the North Pole workshop had tumbled to the floor. The sides and roof of the twenty-foot cottage had split and collapsed. Giant shattered toys and dismembered elves littered the floor like war casualties. Candy Cane Lane leading to the cottage had fallen like dominoes, and ten-foot candy canes lay stacked across the end of the mall. A snarled fortress of cracked support platforms, torn, tangled strings of lights and wet, broken plaster. Sealing off the panel. Blocking their escape.

  The display must have become unstable when soaked by the sprinklers, and then the concussion from the vault explosion had knocked everything down. That explained the smaller, secondary crashes. There was no way around the piled debris, no path through it, and no way to quietly move it aside.

  They had no choice. Con signaled to backtrack.

  Another long, cold and exhausting duck-and-run through the dark. The hunted feeling on the back of her neck was growing eerily familiar. With the heavy vest weighing her down, she barely made it up the escalators to the third floor. Con had to boost her with a hand in the small of her back the last ten steps.

  “I have to catch my breath.” Shivering with cold, and nearly too weary to stand, she leaned against the balcony railing.

  “Hang on just a few seconds longer.” He steered her into a craft store and behind the sales counter.

  Her legs gave out and she sank to the damp floor.

  “I need to go let the team know the number and position of hostages and suspects.”

  “You saw? How are Letty and Nan holding up, and Mike? How did they look? Are they scared? Are they hurt?”

  “They looked tired and stressed, which is to be expected. But healthy and all in one piece, sweetheart. And nobody is freaking out. That’s the most important thing right now.”