by Susan Stoker
Dude clenched his teeth. Volunteered his ass. More likely the two young women flatly refused to do it and the other woman was left, literally, holding the bag.
Dude was getting itchy. He wanted nothing more than to get his hands on that bomb…if there was one. At this point he truly didn’t know if anything the gunmen, or the hysterical women, said could be believed. There were no doubts that everyone in the area was in danger, however. The gunmen were unstable, armed, and getting more and more desperate. They wanted out of the store and Dude knew they’d do anything to get what they wanted. He wondered what their next move would be.
They didn’t have long to wait.
* * *
Cheyenne swallowed hard. She was boring Cheyenne Cotton…the woman that nothing exciting ever happened to, how had she ended up with a fucking bomb duct taped to her body? She thought they were going to make her carry the bomb outside…to show the cops they were serious, but the gunman had different plans. He’d made her hold the bomb against her stomach then started taping it to her. Going round and round and round her with the tape, until she couldn’t move. Then he flicked a switch near the bottom of the device and taped her up some more. He’d activated the bomb and taped the whole thing so much Cheyenne couldn’t see any of it through it all. But she could feel it ticking against her chest. She was going to die. Damn it all to hell.
* * *
Dude watched as five men inside the store walked toward the front door. He wished like hell his team was there. He hadn’t had time to call Wolf once everything started happening, and now all the police with their guns drawn were making him really nervous. Dude had no idea where the supposed bomb was in this cluster fuck, just that his hands were itching.
All of the police had their weapons pointed at the men as they walked to the front of the store and could be seen on the other side of the big plate glass windows. There was no way they were getting out of this. The men were walking in a triangle/rectangle formation with a woman at the point, shielding them. They were pushing her ahead of them as they walked. When they got to the front door it was opened a crack.
One of the men yelled out, “You let us walk out of here and we’ll let her go, you don’t, she’ll die, along with all of you, courtesy of the bomb she’s currently fucking wearing!”
Dude turned his attention to the woman. He hadn’t really been focused on her as the men came into sight, he’d been concentrating on escape routes and trying to ascertain what type of fire power the men had. Looking now, Dude couldn’t see anything on the woman other than miles of silver tape. It looked like they had used multiple rolls to mummify her in the heavy tape. Dude honestly couldn’t tell if there was a bomb under all that tape or not, the gunmen could be bluffing. But Dude knew they couldn’t treat the situation as anything but a bomb threat, for their own safety and that of the woman who was as white as a ghost and being held tightly by what would have been her upper arm if it hadn’t been encased in tape. If the look on her face was anything to go by, there most likely was a bomb under all the silver tape holding her still. She looked freaked and terrified out of her mind. She obviously knew, as did the officers all around him, that the odds of her getting out of whatever fucked up situation this was without getting hurt…or killed…were extremely low.
As soon as the man who’d yelled the threat shut the front door, all hell broke loose. Apparently the snipers had gotten the approval to take the gunmen out. There were five men inside the store, but there were also more than enough snipers to go around. Not only were they near a Navy base where SEAL snipers were plentiful, the local SWAT team had their own cadre of the deadly officers as well.
The standoff had been going on for well over four hours Dude knew everyone wanted it to end. Glass went flying in all directions. He knew the snipers were good at their jobs, but he hoped like hell they hadn’t missed and hurt the woman. The situation was chaotic and shooting through glass always held a modicum of danger. The woman was an innocent bystander, a terrified bystander. Dude had only gotten one quick look at her, but he’d been impressed at how she’d been holding herself together.
She was scared, yes, but she hadn’t screamed, hadn’t tried to wrestle herself out of the arms of the gunmen, and amazingly hadn’t been crying. If nothing else, Dude hoped the sniper’s bullets hadn’t hit her to reward her for her stoic behavior in the face of extreme danger.
* * *
Cheyenne flinched as the glass in front of her shattered. She immediately ducked as low as she could go, which wasn’t too far since she was bundled up in the tape. As she crouched on the floor, she was more than aware of the ticking of the bomb against her stomach. More glass shattered around her and Cheyenne felt a spray of wetness against her face and back. One of the gunmen sagged against her and she lost her balance, falling toward the front door of the store. Cheyenne couldn’t throw out a hand to stop her forward momentum and ended up wedged against the glass that hadn’t been shattered by the gunfire by the weight of at least one of the men who’d been terrorizing her for the last few hours.
Cheyenne quickly glanced around, taking in the broken glass, the blood on the floor, and the bodies of the five men around her. Damn, she was amazed she was still alive. Every one of the five men who’d held her hostage was lying dead on the ground. She’d always been impressed with the skills of snipers, but she was even more so now seeing their prowess up close and personal.
She took a deep breath; and knew she was losing her mind when she was thankful she could still feel the ticking of the bomb against her body. Falling hadn’t set it off, thank God, but it was still active and ticking away. She had no idea how much time she had before it exploded, but Cheyenne figured she was going to die. She didn’t see any way to get the damn thing off of herself without it blowing up, but she didn’t want any innocent people to die with her.
Cheyenne managed to use the shaky glass in front of her to brace with her shoulder and push herself upright. She scooted away from the body of the man leaning against her back, the man she’d thought of as the leader of the gang. His eyes were open and staring sightlessly toward the ceiling. He looked almost as scary dead, as he was alive…just without the maniacal smile he’d shown her as he’d taped her up. She stepped to the left, around the bodies of the other men littering the tile at the front of the store…stepping around the broken glass and rapidly spreading blood pools, and walked backwards toward the aisles in the store. Cheyenne kept an eye on the front parking lot, willing all the cops and rescue personnel to stay away as she made her way away from all the commotion in the parking lot, away from the people so she didn’t kill them as the bomb blew up.
* * *
As soon as the dust settled, Dude was running toward the store along with about ten of the other officers who’d been waiting and watching the front of the grocery store. He didn’t have a gun, but he wasn’t concerned, he was there for the bomb, the other officers would take care of peripheral safety. Time was of the essence. It always was when bombs were involved.
Dude heard the officers shouting to someone, “Stop, don’t move,” as they moved forward. He saw the bodies of the gunmen on the ground by the door, but didn’t see the woman who’d been trussed up like a mummy. When Dude got further into the store and looked down one of the long aisles, he saw her, still bound up in all that tape, backing away from the officers as they moved toward her.
They were all yelling at her to stop, to surrender. She was shaking her head and saying “No, no, don’t come near me, you don’t understand.”
The woman was as pale as the tiles under their feet, and her dark hair, which had been in some sort of ponytail or braid at one point, had mostly come loose and was hanging limply around her face. She had blood sprayed on her face and right side and she was stumbling a bit as she backed away. Dude couldn’t stay quiet anymore.
“All of you halt,” he ordered in his best Alpha voice. The officers stopped at once, guns still drawn and mostly pointed at the ground instead of
at the bound woman, but she kept backing away from them all, ignoring the command in his voice.
“Let me through,” Dude urged as he elbowed himself to the front of the line of officers. He turned his back on the woman and spoke to the twitchy men in front of him, “If that is a bomb she has strapped to her under all that tape, I need to get to it. I can’t do that if she keeps backing away. Give me a moment.”
The officer in charge nodded, knowing exactly who Dude was and why he was there. “You have two minutes, she might be in on it with them. We won’t put our guns down. We’ve got your back.”
Dude nodded, not agreeing with the officer about the terrified woman being in cahoots with the gunmen, but knowing he had to work quickly to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. He knew the local cops were used to working with the military, but they were on edge and their adrenaline levels were sky-high. He’d learned to control his adrenaline high through his training. “Just let me talk to her,” Dude told the officer curtly and turned back toward the woman.
She’d steadily backed herself halfway down the snack aisle and hadn’t stopped while he’d momentarily stopped to talk to the officers. Dude stepped toward her, leaving the line of officers behind him without a second thought. He knew they’d split up and were coming in behind him and probably around the next aisle to cut off her retreat. It’s what he and his team would do if they were in this situation. Dude knew he had to figure out what was going on before that bomb went off and they were all killed.
“Why don’t you stop and talk to me, it’s okay, it’s over, the men are dead, you’re okay.” Dude kept his voice low and soothing, but put just a hint of the man he was behind his words with the hopes she’d respond to the subtle command.
Cheyenne just shook her head, didn’t they understand? She was the bomb for crying out loud. What was he doing? Why was this man coming toward her? She didn’t listen to his words, she just wanted to get away from him and hide somewhere in the back of the store. She figured she could find a place to hole up so when the bomb exploded it didn’t kill anyone…well, anyone but her. But holy cow, from what she could see through the tears in her eyes, the man in front of her was gorgeous. She didn’t want to be responsible for killing him. Hell, he probably had a family, a wife, kids…she couldn’t kill him.
She kept backing up. Cheyenne could barely see through her unshed tears. She would not cry, she would not cry, she had to get these people out of here. Through her panic, Cheyenne heard something behind her, she turned and was horrified to see two police officers at the end of the aisle. They’d cut her off. Shit, they were all going to die after all she’d tried to do. She turned sideways, so her back was to the shelves and shut her eyes tightly. A couple of boxes of something fell off the shelf behind her, but she didn’t bother opening her eyes to see what it was. At this point, making a mess was the least of her worries.
“Ma’am,” Dude said again, seeing her stop after spying the officers at the end of the aisle. “Can you hear me? Look at me and talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”
Cheyenne opened her eyes and looked more closely at the man who’d followed her down the aisle for the first time. He didn’t have a weapon, but was standing about ten feet from her. His hands were at his sides, palms out, showing her he was no threat. But Cheyenne knew he was close, too close. If she could just get him to back off, maybe he’d somehow survive when the bomb went off.
“Please,” she croaked, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Please, you have to get out of here….just go…”
Dude saw her trying to hold her composure together, and his impression of her rose. “You know we can’t do that, these police officers have to make sure you’re all right and that you aren’t an accomplice.” Dude saw her eyes widen in surprise. He’d purposely tried to shock her, so she’d stop and listen to him. “Yeah, I know, seems unlikely to me, but they’re just doing their job, no matter what you or I say to them. Why don’t you help us and we’ll all get out of here and have some lunch.” Dude tried to get her to smile just a bit.
It was obvious his attempt at humor fell flat, when she flung her words at him. “No, you have to go, all of you. I’m not ‘in’ on anything.” Cheyenne gestured to her chest with her chin. “This bomb is going to blow up and kill everyone.” Her voice dropped and she changed tactics, begging now, “Please, just go, I don’t want anyone to die.”
Dude suddenly understood and his stomach clenched with respect. She wasn’t trying to get away; she was trying to protect them. He hadn’t been sure there even was a bomb, but now that he was closer to her, Dude could see a lump in front of her body that could be anything, but with the way she was acting, it probably was exactly what the bad guys had said it was. If that bomb did go off, there was a good chance many of them would die, or at least be badly hurt.
Dude abruptly turned away from the woman who was obviously scared to death, and to the officer in charge who’d followed at a close distance behind him down the aisle.
“Get your men out of here, now!” Dude bellowed. “That bomb strapped to her chest could go off and we need to clear the area. I’ve got this.”
The officer took one look at Dude’s serious face, and ordered his men back.
Dude turned back to the woman as the officers backed away from the aisle on each end, and made their way toward the front of the store. “Okay, they’re leaving, now will you let me help you?”
The woman resumed her relentless retreat away from the front of the store now that the officers weren’t blocking her way.
“No, you have to leave too, don’t do this to me.” Cheyenne looked at the man in horror, suddenly recognizing him as “Cooper,” the military guy she’d semi-stalked in this exact grocery store. Oh my God. It was even more important he just let her go. He couldn’t die. Not him.
Dude ignored her words and strolled steadily toward her and said again in the low commanding voice that, in the past, women had a hard time disobeying. “Look, you’re wasting my time. I’m a bomb ordnance technician, if anyone is going to prevent that bomb from going off and killing you, me, and anyone else nearby, it’s going to be me, so for God’s sake stop backing away from me and let me help.”
Cheyenne stopped, surprised by his words and the tone of his voice, and let the man get closer to her. As he came up toward her, she whispered, “I don’t want you to die.”
“I’m not going to die if you let me take a look at that bomb. If you don’t, then we’ll both definitely die because I’m not leaving you.” Dude was slightly surprised at the words that left his mouth. It wasn’t like him to be reckless, or to let himself be swayed by a woman, but there was something about the bravery and self-sacrifice of this woman that touched him deep inside. She had been one hundred percent honest with him, he could tell. She’d honestly rather just lock herself away in a back room and let herself be blown up, then allow anyone the chance to help her, just in case she couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t acceptable in Dude’s eyes.
Dude reached out and took her arm, or what he thought was her arm…it was hard to tell since it was under miles of duct tape, and steered her toward the back of the store. “You’re right though, we have to get away from the windows up front, come on.”
Cheyenne let herself be led away from the front of the store and the officers and onlookers that had congregated there.
Dude led the woman into the small room behind the meat counter. He helped her lean against one of the butcher tables where the meat was packaged and stared at the tape around her body, trying to work it all out in his head before he tackled it physically.
“Talk to me,” Dude said to the trembling woman now standing in front of him. “Tell me what they said as they put this on you and how it’s attached.”
Cheyenne didn’t like the fact this man was here with her and in such horrible danger, but she didn’t know what else to do. She really didn’t have a choice. He seemed to know what he was doing. She couldn’t get the tape off herself, and
she certainly couldn’t disarm the bomb. She took a deep breath and did as he ordered. Maybe, just maybe, she could give him something that would help get the damn bomb off of her.
“He didn’t say much. He asked me to hold it in my hands, which I’m still doing, and they started with the tape. Once I was mostly taped up, he flicked a switch near the bottom, and then taped me up some more. I can feel it ticking against my body.”
The man hadn’t looked her in the eyes since they were in the aisle; he was wholly focused on the contraption and her mummified body, as if he had x-ray vision and could see under the tape.
“I’m afraid I might hurt you trying to get some of this tape off,” Dude started to tell her, looking up in surprise when the woman let out a sharp laugh.
“I think the tape will hurt less than the damn bomb going off…go ahead, do your worst.”
Dude looked up at her for the first time. She was splattered with blood, a tear had escaped from her right eye, and she had what looked like the beginning of a black eye, but she was still standing there in front of him, with a bomb strapped to her chest, and making a smart ass comment. Amazing.
“By the way, my name is Dude.”
Cheyenne sighed, did it matter? Yes, she thought it did matter. “Dude?”
Knowing she’d probably ask, Dude had purposely given her his nickname. “Yeah, it’s a nickname. When my buddies in boot camp heard I’d spent most of my time in high school surfing, instead of studying, the name stuck.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Faulkner. Faulkner Cooper. What’s your name, hon?”
“Cheyenne Cotton,” she told him softly.
“Well, Cheyenne, let’s get this thing off of you.” Dude pulled a chair over toward her and sat down to work.
After ten minutes of Dude trying to get the tape removed, without either hurting her, or prematurely triggering the bomb, Cheyenne said urgently, “Promise me something.”