To her delight, it circled her once before it landed on her finger.
“Oh, wow!” For a moment, her reservations faded completely from her mind. She’d actually communicated with a different species. That was amazing!
Then, the bird pooped on her hand. “Ahh!” She dropped her hand, lost the aura, and the bird flew away as she wiped the poop on her training gi.
“Did you do that?”
“If you had full command of your aura, you’d already know the answer to that question.”
Kristen struggled not to roll her eyes. He sounded a bit too mystical for her taste.
Then, Stonequest’s visage cracked into a grin. “But enough of that for now. Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“We have a robbery in progress. Requesting units to the comic bookstore on Library Street. I repeat, requesting units to the Vault of Midnight. Someone made off with forty thousand dollars’ worth of rare comics.”
Kristen had been back at the station for a day and had a while to wait before her next training session. For some reason, Stonequest insisted that she alternate time between her human team and the dragon training. She bolted up from her desk and rushed to the gear room. She had to go on this one. If Brian found out she had saved comic books, he’d be beyond amazed. There were no doubt people in peril too and she didn’t forget about them, but it was pleasant to have something come up that wasn’t about people getting shot or blown up or taken hostage.
She raced through the halls and reached the gear room to find Drew there, geared up and with his arms folded. “You’re grounded, remember?”
“But…the comic books,” she protested.
“Take it up with the captain. She said to send you to her office if you came here.”
“Okay. Okay.” She sighed. “But try not to ruin the comics, all right?”
“Whatever you say, Hall.” He snorted a laugh as she trudged through the station and toward the captain’s office.
“Where did you think you were going?” Captain Hansen yelled as soon as Kristen stepped inside. The only thing worse than being yelled at by the captain for trying to do her job was that she was being reprimanded in front of Stonequest. He sat in one of the guest chairs and wore a broad smile.
“I only… Comics can’t be that dangerous. It’s probably only some nerds trying to get rich. How is SWAT even going out for that one?”
“The crooks made off with a Spider Man #1. People would die for that comic—or kill,” the captain stated matter-of-factly.
She raised an eyebrow. “Ma’am, are you a nerd?”
“What I read in my free time is none of your concern,” the woman snapped in response. “The fact remains that we have an assassin at large. And until Death is brought in, you will not leave your desk. I don’t even want you near the windows.”
“So, you did put me at that desk on purpose?”
“Of course, I did. Not everyone on SWAT operates on instinct like you always try to.”
“But ma’am, I need to be out with my team. Death obviously knows who I am, which means she might target my teammates. Right, Stonequest?”
“I have to say I agree with the captain. Death hasn’t targeted any other police officers, so thinking that she will is purely conjecture. Plus, your training hasn’t progressed enough for you to handle a major threat like that. Dragon’s flame, I’m worried about taking her on with my team from Dragon SWAT. If it were only you, especially without your dragon form, you’d be killed.”
“But I have steel skin,” she protested.
“Which Death knows all about. Sorry, Kristen. I’m with the captain.” He folded his arms.
“Ugh. Fine. Can I go back to my desk, then?”
“But of course,” Captain Hansen said.
She cursed inwardly because she had hoped that Stonequest was there to whisk her away for more training. Worse, it seemed that the two captains simply swapped notes, so there went any chance she had to deliver her planned monologue of protest about the hypocrisy of her being grounded. Damn.
Kristen didn’t think she’d ever experienced time pass as slowly as it did for the next three hours. What made it even worse was that when her team returned, they almost bounced off the walls with stories to tell.
“I could not believe when you hit their trunk and popped the lock,” Hernandez said to Keith.
He made no response aside from a hearty laugh.
The team moved to the break room, so she left her desk and fell into step to follow them.
“It was like a confetti of wizard cards,” Butters said.
“Wizard cards? You mean Magic the Gathering?” she asked.
“That’s the one.” The sniper snapped his fingers when he recognized the title. “They’d filled their trunk with these things. Apparently, the comics were too valuable to keep out of sight. Anyway, the Rookie got a lucky shot off—”
“It was not lucky,” Keith protested.
“It was mid-pursuit. It’s not like you can make shots like that on the regular. No one can,” Drew said.
Keith huffed and folded his arms. “Whatever. I did aim for the trunk.”
“Anyway…” Butters took the narrative back. “These cards scattered everywhere, and what did the perps do? They swerved and stopped and tried to pick the things up.”
“Not all of them.” Hernandez laughed. “One of them stayed in the back seat, reading comic books as fast as he could until we cuffed him.”
Everyone laughed at that, the demolitions expert so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eyes.
“So, Red, what have you been doing here?” she asked.
“Paperwork.” Kristen sighed.
“There’s more of that to come. The comic shop is throwing the book at us. Apparently, all that crap was insured and they argue that by failing to respond fast enough and then chasing the crooks, we endangered their livelihood.” Drew smiled. “If you want to help, we’d be happy for it.”
“I don’t mind talking to the comic shop,” Keith said and grinned. He’d found a mop in the corner of the breakroom and thrust it into Kristen’s hands. “Hall has stuff to do here to be useful. The station won’t clean itself.”
Everyone laughed and she joined in, although hers was a rueful chuckle.
As soon as the Rookie’s mouth closed and his grin faded to hide his teeth, she slapped him across the face with the dirty mop.
“What was that for?” He wiped dirty water from his face.
“You said to clean. I simply looked for the dirtiest thing handy.”
Hernandez leaned in and sniffed him. “Sorry, Rookie, but Red has a point. You stink.”
Chapter Sixty
A call came in for a mission and Drew assembled his team. Part of him felt bad that Hall wasn’t allowed to join them, but he agreed with the captain. Death was too dangerous to mess around with. That aside, it was also pleasant to run missions with only regular people.
He had been on SWAT for years and was good at his job. Damn good at it, if he was honest. And it wasn’t that Hall wasn’t good as well. Really, he loved her like a sister and thought she was a damn good cop. But there were times when it was nice to be more than back-up for the Steel Dragon.
Well, not nice. Dealing with armed criminals was never nice, but it was what he knew how to do, and he did it well.
They loaded into the van with him at the wheel and headed out.
“What’s the mission, Drew?” Butters asked.
“It’s fairly basic.” He raised his voice and spoke over his shoulder so those in the back could hear. “A couple of robbers hit a convenience store. They have a hostage, but the place is locked down and the officer in charge says things are looking good to get them to surrender. They only want us as back up in case it doesn’t go well.”
“We can handle that without the Steel Dragon,” Hernandez said. “She’d probably rush in there and snap their necks before they could even piss themselves.”
Ever
yone laughed but it was forced. Without Kristen on missions, their team didn’t feel complete. All too often, he’d have to remind himself how pleasant it was to be a team of normal humans—exactly like he’d done a few minutes earlier—but the truth was that he missed her as much as they did. He didn’t know how the hell they would catch Death, but he hoped they did and that it was soon.
Drew appreciated that his team had to work harder and be more precise with Hall grounded, but he didn’t like what her being stuck at the base did for his team’s morale. Steel Dragon or not, she was part of them now. Not having her there felt as odd as it had to lose Jonesy. He rarely entertained the thought that if they didn’t catch the sniper soon they might lose her as well.
He issued the standard basic orders—Butters and Beanpole on sniper duty, the Wonderkid and the Rookie headed around back—and after a few minutes, they arrived at the convenience store.
What was it about those kinds of establishments that criminals loved? He would never understand it. They seemed to attract the slightly insane and mostly incompetent. After they’d arrived and assessed the scene, he could tell that this situation was no different than most.
Two guys had tried to steal cash and maybe some scratch-offs and hadn’t escaped quickly enough. When the cops showed up, they took the clerk hostage. It was almost pathetic how common a story it was but his job wasn’t to ponder societal ills. They were there to save lives.
He could see he’d need to do that today. One of the crooks stood in the doorway with the hostage in front of him and a handgun held to the man’s temple.
“Where’s the other one?” Drew asked over the radio.
“Inside behind a shelf. You can see his shoulder poking up,” Butters replied.
“All right. I’m going in,” he said to the officers who’d called in the situation. “Cover me and be ready to move in. This guy wouldn’t stand in the doorway if he didn’t want to talk. I’ll go radio silent. Hernandez, if Keith and Jim find an entrance, it’s your call whether they go in.”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded, drew his handgun from its holster, held it in the air, and placed it on the pavement at his feet. “I’m unarmed, see? They called me in because I like to talk,” he said to the man. The trick with talking to criminals in these kinds of situations was to be loud enough to be heard over their own heartbeats pounding in their ears but to not sound like you were screaming at them. His low, booming voice worked well.
“Talk is cheap, pig,” the robber yelled in response.
Typical. They often liked to start with a line from a movie, especially if there was more than one of them.
“You’re right. So is robbery. With the right lawyer, you might do less than a year. If you hurt that man, though, you’ll find yourself facing far more time. No one likes a murderer.” As he spoke, he approached the convenience store slowly with his hands raised.
“I’m not a murderer.”
“I know you’re not. Believe me. We’ve seen monsters and you don’t seem like one, merely a man down on his luck.” He made it a few steps closer.
“You don’t know the half of it, pig.” There was desperation in the man’s voice. That could be good if properly channeled but could also be extremely dangerous.
“Luck changes. Yours can change. What’s your name?” he asked as soothingly as he could.
“Fuck you! You assholes will only feed me to your fucking pet dragon.”
“That isn’t true.” He took another step forward. “And anyway, she’s not with us today. It’s only us humans. My name’s Drew, by the way.”
“Not another step closer.” The man shoved the pistol against his hostage’s head. “They call me Dogface.”
He could see why. The man’s face was so badly pockmarked it looked like whiskers, and one of his ears was damaged. The top half of it hung down like a bulldog’s. Drew frowned inwardly. Dogface probably wasn’t the best name to negotiate with, but that was what he had.
“Look, Dogface, I’ll be straight with you.” Fortunately, he didn’t have to raise his voice as much now as he was about ten paces away. “You won’t walk away from this. We have you surrounded. You’ll face a jury of your peers—people like you. What story do you want to tell them? That you were down on your luck and you messed up, but at your darkest moment, you let a man live? Or that you’re a killer?”
“I’m not a killer.” His pistol raised marginally from the hostage’s skin and lowered slightly. Drew had him. The man simply didn’t know that yet.
“Good. That’s good, Dogface. Now, here’s what we’ll do. You’ll lower that weapon to the ground and kick it toward me. I’ll tell your lawyer all this was your idea, of course. Then, you’ll tell your buddy to do the same, and you guys will come out of this looking like victims of circumstance. All right?”
“Al-all right,” Dogface stammered. He lowered his pistol a little more.
No sooner did he lower the weapon than a red hole appeared in his forehead and his brains blew back into the convenience store.
Dogface fell back, very clearly dead.
The hostage screamed and stumbled forward.
A moment later, Drew heard a gunshot in the distance.
Shock gave way to reality—Dogface had been shot.
“That’s the sniper! Find cover people. The asshole’s behind us.” Drew immediately fell prone. There wasn’t any cover available close by. He was in the parking lot between the police cars and the convenience store. Still, he scooted forward and realized as he did so that the bullet that might end his life could already be on its way to kill him.
He glanced up to where the cops scurried behind their cars. Hernandez had got them to come to the correct side anyway. Thank God for that.
The sound of broken glass was followed and a scream from inside the convenience store a second before the report of another shot cracked from behind them.
Drew turned his head as the other robber staggered out from his hiding place in the aisle, a hand clamped around his neck in an effort to stop the blood that gushed from his wound.
The sniper had got him. Through a window, a shelf, and a bag of chips, the sniper had still found her target.
He reached the front of the store before his hand slid from his neck and he collapsed next to his partner.
The hostage stumbled past and screamed in terror, so Drew did what he did every day at work. He pushed to his feet and helped someone—threw his arm around the man and led him to the police cruisers. They slumped behind a door and waited.
The clerk was crying, thanking his God, thanking Drew, and thanking the police. The SWAT team leader heard none of it. He waited for another shot. While he didn’t think the sniper could hurt anyone through a police car, that shot into the convenience store through the window was all but impossible. If they could do that at a distance far enough for there to be a delay in the sound, the regular rules didn’t seem to apply.
After a few minutes and no more shots, he felt confident enough to step out from behind the police cruiser.
He stood, faced the direction the shots had come from, and looked for a flash of light. If he saw one, he’d have a millisecond to dodge before the bullet killed him and seconds before he heard the weapon.
No shots came and everyone seemed to draw a collective breath of relief.
“I think we’re in the clear,” Drew said into his radio. “I want helmets on and Butters, keep your eyes in the direction those shots came from. Still, I think we’re in the clear.”
“You already said that, sir,” the Wonderkid said over the radio.
He tried to force a smile. This was a new sensation for him. Normally, he operated under the assumption that he could do his job because he had been better-trained than the common criminal and had a team that could protect him. With Death on the other end of the sniper rifle, neither was the case. It was a profoundly uncomfortable feeling.
What was worse was that they needed to do something about the bodies. He
called an ambulance, but that simply meant he had to stick around and make sure no one else was hurt.
He sent in a team to investigate where the sniper had been as well, but there were multiple apartment blocks in that direction. It would be basically impossible to find her.
It was also impossible to know if Death was simply waiting for them, which created additional stress.
But they went about their jobs, blocked the crime scene off for forensics, and ensured that EMS had what they needed.
Despite all the activity, no more shots were fired.
“What the hell do you think that was all about?” Hernandez asked as EMS left with the two bodies. She too was jumpy. Her gaze darted constantly toward where they had heard the gunshots come from.
“I think that was her way of saying she’s watching us.” Drew hadn’t realized he’d been sweating until he wiped his brow and found it slick.
She nodded. “She could have taken us out instead of the robbers.”
“I know. She chose to let us live.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means she thinks she owns us.”
“And what the fuck are we supposed to do about that?”
He sighed. “I have no fucking idea.”
Chapter Sixty-One
“Oh, thank God you’re all right.” Kristen had never been so relieved to see anyone walk through a door as she was when they entered the lounge. She’d followed the incident at the convenience store over the radio. It had taken everything in her power not to rush out after them, but given all that had happened, she saw now that it was good that she hadn’t.
The sniper could have shot her in the back of the head and there wouldn’t have been a thing she could have done about it.
But for some reason, Death has spared her team. For that, she was grateful, albeit confused. However, she could deal with confusion. She rushed forward—windows be damned—and hugged each one to make sure they knew she was happy they were okay, even Hernandez.
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