There were several people motionless on the ground, pools of blood around them and red footprints tracking toward the door. Tanya tasted bile and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the sight, except the image was burned into her retinas.
“Against the wall now!” Mr. Reasonable in front of her yelled again. He seemed to be the more reasonable voice between the two vocal terrorists, while the third had yet to say anything or move far from his post at the front of the building.
“Tango,” someone whispered.
Tanya glanced over her shoulder and saw Goldie and Lotta clustered around Mallory. Tanya headed straight for the three girls. Her heart sank at the sight of blood staining Mallory’s arm and the white pallor of her face.
“Ohmygod, Mallory.”
Lotta held what looked to be a t-shirt against Mallory’s arm, but the fabric was soaked.
“Keep moving back,” Mr. Reasonable called out, the sounds of desperation easing from his voice.
Their group shuffled back farther, and yet no matter how far they went, they seemed to remain on the very edge of the group.
Tanya glanced around. “I need a shirt or something,” she said loud enough for those strangers nearest to hear.
“Here.” A large man she recognized as a derby husband shouldered through and handed her a plaid overshirt.
“Thanks.” Tanya accepted the offering and peeled back Mallory’s soaked t-shirt. The wound was jagged, seeping blood and tissue. There was no exit wound, which meant the round was still in Mallory’s arm. Tanya wasn’t a field medic. The best she could do was a few stitches. She shook her head and rebandaged the arm. “We need to get you out of here.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the trio of gunmen with their heads together.
What can I do?
Tanya lifted her arms high and began walking toward the track. “Excuse me. Excuse me.”
Three heads swiveled toward her and Tanya nearly wet herself.
“Stay right there,” Trigger Happy yelled, leveling his gun at her.
Yup, just wet myself a little.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interfere, but there are injured people.” She nodded toward the nearest unmoving body. The person was gravely hurt or worse, dead. “Everyone is very scared. We’ve been here for a long time and you haven’t even spoken to the police. Please, just tell us what’s going on. Maybe we can find a solution.”
“Come here.” Trigger Happy tipped the muzzle of his gun toward the ceiling and hooked his finger at her.
“Tango, what are you doing?” Mallory whispered.
“I don’t know,” Tanya muttered.
She kept her hands high and crossed The Warehouse floor, complete silence behind her.
Trigger Happy tapped his foot. Her progress wasn’t fast enough for him it seemed. He stalked toward her, pulled his arm back and backhanded her across the face.
Tanya spun, clenching her cheek and going to a knee. Her vision swam and she tasted blood in her mouth.
“You’ll shut the fuck up,” Trigger Happy yelled, bent over her so that his breath stirred her hair.
I’m going to die.
He’s going to shoot me.
A hand dug into her hair, pulling it lose from the pigtails she’d struggled to get exactly even. Pain blossomed from her roots as he pulled her to her feet.
“This is the Metro City Police. We’d like to talk to you,” blared over a loudspeaker outside.
Trigger Happy let go of her, whirling to meet this new challenge.
Tanya rushed back to her friends, tail between her legs.
“We’d like to talk to whoever is in charge. Can you pick up a phone and talk to us?” the female voice continued.
Tanya recognized the voice. It was the strange reality of her life. All the people trying desperately to save her and the other hostages, they were her friends.
“Tanya, don’t do anything like that again,” Goldie admonished, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the fold as though she were an errant lamb. She pulled Tanya’s hand aside and examined the growing lump on her cheek. “That’s going to be a spectacular black eye.”
“I figured,” Tanya muttered. She glanced over her shoulder at the three men, still with their heads together. “They aren’t talking to the negotiators. This isn’t good.”
“What do you mean, this isn’t good?” Mallory asked.
Tanya met her gaze, feeling grim about their future. “If they want something, they’ll tell the negotiator or the police so they can get it. If they aren’t talking, it’s not something they want, it’s the message they want to send.”
“You don’t know that,” Goldie said.
“I hope I’m wrong.” Tanya glanced at a circle of large men at the back of the building. They looked just as suspicious as their captors, except there were more of them.
“How are you feeling?” Goldie asked Mallory, who was sitting on the floor.
“Dizzy.”
Blood loss, adrenaline drop. If dizzy was all Mallory was feeling, she was lucky.
“Keep her warm. Can we get anything to put on her? More clothes? Any of you have a phone?” Tanya asked.
The three derby girls shook their heads.
“Figures. Where are we going to fit them?” She glanced around, looking for someone who might be willing to part with their lifeline.
“What are you trying to do?” Goldie grabbed her hand and pulled her down into a crouch next to Mallory.
“I want to get hold of my husband. If I can communicate with him I might be able to give him information. Or something. I don’t know. I feel like I need to do something.” Doing anything was likely to put her in direct conflict with the spirit of Cole’s request to “stay safe”. Either she did nothing, remained relatively safe and risked their captors doing something to hurt or kill her. Or she did something, made her choices and took a risk that could mean freedom.
Goldie shook her. “It’s not your call.”
It was true, but Tanya couldn’t accept it. There had to be something she could do to get herself and others out of this situation.
“No, this is your fault,” Trigger Happy yelled.
Tanya jerked her head in their direction. The other she thought of as Silence had a hand on Trigger Happy, while the negotiator repeated her same message. Mr. Reasonable backed away and seemed taken aback by the hostility aimed at him by his fellow gunman.
The energy in the room was a palpable mix of fear, nerves and adrenaline. The hair on the back of Tanya’s neck prickled. She glanced back to the cluster of men and froze. They were moving toward the center of the track, and the three gunmen were distracted.
“Oh shit. Stay down,” Tanya said, hunching over.
It unfolded as if in slow motion. Two men rushed from the right side while three came from the left. They charged the gunmen in silence, the impending doom of the moment ready to blow them all sky high.
Silence and Mr. Reasonable caught sight of the danger immediately. Silence acted first, thrusting his left hand out.
“Stop right there or I let go of the trigger. This is a dead man’s switch. You make me lose my grip, we all die,” Silence yelled, his bass voice booming in the confines of the warehouse.
The five would-be heroes skidded to a stop.
Trigger Happy lunged, but Mr. Reasonable had closed in enough to jerk him back.
“Ohmygod, this has got to stop.” Tanya glanced around as if a new exit would appear, one where Cole was on the other side of the door and she could dive into his arms.
Goldie grasped Tanya’s arm and pulled her close enough Goldie could whisper into her ear. “In the office there’s a lift that lowers into a tunnel that goes under the street behind The Warehouse into the next building. The owner showed Lotta and me ages ago when we first leased the space. We could get some people over there and out.”
“What happened to the whole don’t-do-anything talk?”
“Yeah, that was five minutes ago. You’re right. T
hey’re going to kill us.” Goldie’s face was paler than usual.
Tanya’s heart stuttered to a halt. “Goldie, what about your boys?” Goldie always brought her boys to the game. They often helped the scorekeepers by flashing dry erase boards with each team’s score to the audience. It wasn’t a necessary part of the game, they had an electronic scoreboard, but it was cute.
“They’re at a birthday party, thank goodness,” Goldie replied.
That was one thing to be relieved for.
Tanya considered their options. They couldn’t take everyone out through the tunnel without drawing a lot of attention. She hated playing favorites or choosing who would get set free, but they had to make a move. If one person could get out, it was worth it to Tanya. “Okay, get Mallory back there and see what you can do. I’m going to try to get a phone.”
Tanya didn’t know how she was going to obtain a cell phone. It was like asking for a pony at Christmas. She got to her feet and wandered through the people, who were not all sitting anymore as requested by their captors initially. Who were all these people? She didn’t know who they were, which was a long way from where they’d begun. Once the bouts had comprised of the derby girls, their family and friends. Now she didn’t see a single face she recognized.
“Nicolas, this is the police. Please talk to us.” The negotiator’s new line had everyone in The Warehouse pausing.
Nicolas?
Who was Nicolas?
Mr. Reasonable spun in a half-circle, one hand flying to his forehead.
Hello, Nicolas.
“Nicolas, pick up the phone and talk to us,” the negotiator continued. “We need to talk to someone. Please talk to us so we can help you.”
Trigger Happy and Silence clutched Nicolas’ arms, physically holding him back.
Something was going to happen soon. They couldn’t stay in a holding pattern like this. One side or the other would break.
Tanya spied a teenage kid trying to shield his phone from view. She crossed to the teen and touched his shoulder. He glanced up at her, eyes round, face pale.
“Excuse me, I need your phone. My husband is a SWAT officer outside and I need to talk to him,” she said in a rush.
“Yeah, here.”
“Thank you. Are you here alone?”
“I came with my brother, but I think he got outside.”
“Have you contacted your family?” she asked, that motherly switch flipping to high in her breast.
“Yeah.” He nodded.
She squeezed his shoulder again. “Keep your head down, do what you’re told. We’re going to get out of here.”
He nodded in reply.
Tanya stood and walked back to the general area where she’d hunkered down with the rest of the derby girls. As she walked she tapped out a message and sent it to both her phone and Cole’s.
Borrowed phone. Things dicey in here.
She hit send and prayed that it got to her husband.
“You, give me that phone.”
Nicolas grabbed the phone from her hands.
Goodbye, lifeline.
“Come here.” Nicolas grabbed her arm and hauled her several yards away from the line of hostages. “What the hell is the number?”
Um, what number? 9-1-1 wakeup call?
“Nick, do not do this,” Trigger Happy demanded. He glared at Tanya, and what she wouldn’t give to be anywhere else.
“They know my name. They know who I am. They might go after my wife. I have to talk to them.” Nick’s grasp on her wrist tightened. His palm was slick with sweat and soft, like that of a man who never did hard labor. And this guy built bombs? Doubtful.
“Think about your family,” Trigger Happy continued, leaning in close enough that the sweat beading his brow dripped on her arm. “Do not talk to the authorities.”
“How the hell do you call the police?” Nicolas shook the phone.
“9-1-1 is always an option,” Tanya offered and hunched her shoulders as both sets of eyes landed on her. If she had her own phone she could call the particular negotiator directly, but that option was gone.
“No, you aren’t putting my family at risk just to save your own.” Trigger Happy snatched the phone from Nicolas’ grasp and pocketed it.
Tanya stared at the pocket, her hands itching to take the phone back.
Wait, what were they saying? And why was she here?
The negotiator’s voice grew louder, as if coming closer. Chances were the B.E.A.R. truck was rolling up to the building. Those vehicles had loudspeakers and even recorded messages in many different languages. “Nicolas, your wife wants you to come home. Talk to us so we can make sure you see her soon. She’s worried about you.”
“Oh shit,” Nicolas muttered. He was sweating profusely now.
“You are not talking to them,” Trigger Happy said and took a step back.
Tanya opened her mouth to say something, but the throbbing in the side of her face made her think better.
Silence approached with all the notice of his namesake. “You two need to pull your heads out of your asses. They’re going to come in here if we don’t start talking to them.” His gaze flicked over her. Tanya was struck by the lack of emotion there. No sweat beaded his forehead, he seemed completely at ease. “If you don’t want them to recognize our voices, have her talk for us. She seems to be the helpful sort.”
All three sets of eyes landed on her, and Tanya fought the urge to crawl under the bleachers. She’d wanted to be part of the solution. Looked as though she’d landed in the middle of it.
“Okay, here.” Trigger Happy shoved the phone at her, which was quickly followed by him pointing the gun at her.
A new text message taunted her, but she didn’t dare check it. Not with three guns, bombs and whatever else these guys were packing so close.
Trigger Happy’s accent was getting stronger the more worked up he became. His clothing was soaked, save for the vest, and she didn’t want to think about that. “You say anything we don’t tell you to, I’ll shoot you.”
“Okay, I understand,” she said slowly, accepting the phone. “Just so I’m doing exactly as you want me to, should I call now? Or do you want—”
“Call now,” Silence insisted.
“Okay, I’m dialing 9-1-1.” She tapped those three ominous digits in and hit send.
“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Tanya inhaled a deep breath. Tingles radiated down through her skull. This whole situation was too surreal.
“Hello, this is—Tanya—Westling. I am a hostage at The Warehouse. The men holding us here want to speak to—to—the negotiators outside of the building. Could you connect us?” She bit her lip. Hell, she’d almost asked them to connect her to the negotiator by name. That wouldn’t seem suspicious. At. All.
There was the sound of some mumbling and scrambling on the other end. “Yes, Tanya, I can do that for you. Are there any injured?”
Tanya glanced at the three men, mouth open to answer. “I’m not allowed to answer questions, only communicate for the—the—men.”
“Tanya, I understand. I’m connecting you to the negotiator now. Her name is Lily Slade.” The woman’s voice quavered, as if she wanted to say more but didn’t dare.
“Thank you,” Tanya said. To the three men, she asked, “Would you like me to put the phone on speaker?”
“Yeah,” Nicolas said.
With their attention on her, Tanya hoped and prayed that Goldie and the others used the opportunity to get some of the people into the tunnel, or figure something else out. If at the very least the three women got out, so be it. That was three more lives saved.
“This is Lily Slade. Who am I speaking with?”
Tanya glanced between the three men. She needed to choose her words very carefully. There was also the risk that Lily might say something. She prayed the other woman kept their secret. Silence nodded, which she took as her permission to speak. She repeated the mantra speak slowly, speak clearly.
“Hello, Lily. My name is Tanya Westling. I’m a hostage speaking on behalf of the, ah, gentlemen holding us here. I’m not allowed to answer questions, only speak for the men.”
“Hi, Tanya, I’m glad we’re getting to speak together. I understand the limitations they’ve placed on you, but I will need to ask some questions. I hope we can work together on this. Can you tell me how it’s going in there? Are people safe?” Lily’s voice was the kind that invited trust. They weren’t close, but she was someone Tanya genuinely liked, and having her on the other end of the phone was a relief.
Tanya clicked the mute button. “What would you like me to say?”
“Tell them to give us some space,” Trigger Happy blurted.
Space? They couldn’t see out of the building to tell how close the cops were.
The other two men didn’t put forth anything, so she had nothing else to offer in the moment.
“Tanya?” Lily said.
She unclicked the mute button. “Hi, Lily, I’m only allowed to say what is said to me.”
“I understand,” Lily replied. “Ask them if you can tell me about the state of the other hostages. I’d like to know that people are safe and there’s no reason for anyone to get hurt.”
Trigger Happy’s eyes narrowed. She muted the phone.
“What do you want me to say? There are some seriously injured people here.” Tanya didn’t know how the police would react if they allowed her to say the truth about the situation of the injured. If she had to guess, fessing up to the seriousness of the situation might bring the entry team in. And Tanya didn’t know if any of them would live through that.
“We can’t tell them the truth. If they know how bad it is, they’ll come in here,” Nicolas said, echoing her thoughts. He was reasonable, rational and probably the biggest threat to the hostages’ freedom. Then again, he was the one with bombs strapped to his person, so clearly something had to be a little unhinged upstairs.
“Tell them everyone’s fine,” Trigger Happy directed.
Tanya opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. The police weren’t going to believe her, not when injured evidence had run straight into their arms. She unmuted the phone and directed her attention to the negotiator.
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