Not So Innocent (Shattered Glass #2)

Chapter Sixteen

Three men stood at the entrance of the church. In the dim lighting, Cai couldn’t see more than their outlines and the guns being lifted. He kicked the back of the priest’s knees and ducked just as a popping sound echoed against the walls. Father Jeremy gasped, clutched his shoulder and crumpled to the floor. Fuzz went wild, growling and barking and viciously jerking at his lead. The noise masked footsteps, if there were any. Cai yanked the leash, scrabbling for the gun in his pocket. He raised the pistol and fired one shot aimlessly, hoping he’d at least slow them down while he scooted closer to see if the priest could crawl with his injury. Nope.

Grabbing the back of Father Jeremy’s collar, he braced his feet on the floor at either side of the priest’s shoulders and then tugged. Nothing happened. He had at least forty pounds on Cai. They’d be sitting ducks in less than thirty seconds. “Push with your feet!” he whispered harshly.

Father Jeremy groaned in pain but bent his knees to shove his foot against the floor.

They push-pulled slowly the few feet to the office, with Cai firing cover shots. His bullets ricocheted off the pillar closest to them. The dog’s barks pierced his ear drums. Between that and the ping of gunshots, it was difficult to judge the direction the men were moving. Thankfully, it wouldn’t matter. They’d reached the rectory.

Once inside the office, Cai slammed the door shut and locked it. He wiped sweat off his hands, then helped scoot Father Jeremy close to the outer wall. Back pressed against the thick armoire, he sank into a crouch.

“No. Don’t sit up, Father. Stay lying down.” Cai held out his palm like he’d seen Riley do. “?Siéntate!” Mercifully, the barking stopped. Fuzz sat and whined. “Can you call the police? I need to have my hands free.”

“Get my...phone. Pocket.”

Cai found the phone, dialed 911, and then gave it to the priest. Father Jeremy’s voice broke into grunted words while he relayed the church’s address to whoever had answered the call. Then his eyes closed. “I can’t,” he gasped.

The phone dropped and tumbled under the desk. A voice called out, “Hello? Sir? Hello?”

Cai ignored it, deciding the 911 operator had enough information. They’d hear a whole bunch more soon, anyway. The squawk on the other end lowered and then stopped. Silence closed in, fraying Cai’s nerves. He cursed every exhale, every heartbeat for interrupting his ability to listen.

Breath. Pulse. Breath. Pulse.

What were they doing out there?

The priest groaned. “Is it bad, Father?”

“No,” the man gasped. “No arteries hit. I think.”

A muffled thump brought their attention to the door. Cai grabbed a chair, pushed it up under the handle and then returned to his position against the cabinet, hoping the wood was thick enough for cover. At the next thump, he angled around the edge, fired two wide shots into the thick office door, and then plastered himself back against the wardrobe.

Breath.

Pulse.

Breath.

Chaos.

A torrent of bullets breached the room. Splinters and shards of wood blew out from the door and desk. Paper shredded and confetti blew up into the air. The barking intensified, the dog foaming at the mouth. Cai yanked Fuzz into the bridge under his knees. “?Siéntate! ?Siéntate! ?Quieto!” The dog fell silent as a sliver of wood pinged Cai below his eye. He winced, and sank back into a crouch, hiding his face in his knees and covering his head with his arms. The weight of the gun pressed against his ear. Shrapnel pelted his forearm and the top of his head. He exhaled, his breath filling the pocket of space in his lap with the scent of Pixy Stix, Fuzz, and coffee. Inhaling, slowly, he counted the beats of his heart.

Pulse.

One Mississippi. Two Missi—

“Cease fire! Cease fire!”

The bullets stopped.

Cai lifted his head and tried to listen beyond the ringing in his ears.

A voice came from outside the door along with broken bits of words. “Ricochet…alive…fucking drive.”

Father Jeremy panted. Blood trickled through his fingers as he squeezed at the space between his arm and chest. A mass of debris clung to his white shirt and black blazer. Fuzz belly-slithered over to the priest. Father Jeremy gently patted the dog’s head.

“Sorry, Father,” Cai said. He dropped out the gun’s magazine to count how many bullets he had left. Well, that was easy. Zero. He retrieved the last magazine he’d taken from the guy in the woods and slid it into the Sig with a satisfying click. “I didn’t mean to bring them here.”

“Nikolaj, come...here. Away from the—”

Another thump fractured the wood door down the middle. It sprouted cracks like it was birthing a Daddy Long Legs.

Could he move the armoire? Cai considered its weight, checked the bottom and the distance between it and the wall. After scooting the priest slightly, he tried to shift the closet out enough to tip it. Other than a slight rumble of its contents, it didn’t budge.

When it quieted again, he checked the door. They’d breach it soon.

Cai threw open the wardrobe and began chucking out vestments, collars, candlesticks, chalices and even the inner drawers themselves. By the time he was done, the human battering rams had nearly split the door. Cai fired five shots, aiming low, toward knees and thighs, in case they were wearing vests. His line of fire was as straight as he could get it without having much practice with a gun in a few years. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. A muffled grunt and a low thud rewarded his aim.

His triumph was short-lived. The armoire still wouldn’t budge. He set down the gun down to get some leverage and a shadow darkened the stained glass behind the desk. Out of breath and defeated, Cai grabbed the gun, closed his eyes, and folded into a crouch again. Sweat streaked down his lids.

The window cracked and then a piece from the bottom corner fell inside. Cai fired, hitting the top portion of the window, missing his target by least a foot, but the shadow disappeared.

Scuffles sounded on the other side of the door, like the men were shifting positions around it. One of them knocked. “Hey kid. Look, give us the hard drive and we’ll go. That’s all we want.”

Without knowing if there’s another copy? Yeah, right. If he denied knowing about it, the dialogue would be over, and they’d continue firing. Buying time seemed the best option. “I don’t have it. Here.”

“Come out, show us where it is. We’ll leave the priest alive.”

“We’ve seen you.”

“For a second, from fifty feet away?”

The man said something else, too low for Cai to understand. Ordering an attack? Cai focused on the window where he and the priest were most vulnerable. He began to lose hope.

“How you doin’, Father? Hope you’re not hurt too bad,” the voice beyond the door taunted.

“The police are coming,” the priest whispered.

Another shadow swept by the window. Cai met Father Jeremy’s gaze. “It’s been at least three minutes. How long do they take?”

“They’ll...be here...soon. Patrol...” Father Jeremy winced. “Infrequent. Few more minutes.”

Cai checked the new magazine and cringed. “Dunno if we have a few more minutes.”

A silver tube shattered the window and bounced across the floor. Cai screamed, “No!” He shielded his face with his arms crossed in front of him. A white light flashed across his lids.

The bang came next. Like cymbals clanging against his ears. He blinked, tottered to his feet, and blindly fired where he thought the window might be.

Wait, how many bullets had he used? Five for the door, one for the window…how many had he shot after the flash-bang? Four. No, six. Six shots. Eight left. That might hold the window for a few extra seconds. But unless a miracle happened, they’d be inside very soon. He peered around the armoire to gauge how much time they had. A fist-sized hole ruptured the door near the knob. An arm reached through. He might forever regret what he needed to do now.

Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.

“Fuzz, ataca!”

The dog broke free of the priest’s hold and darted after the attackers, his vicious bark cut short as someone cried out.

Cai tried to check on the Fuzz, but blood dripped into his eye from the glass sliver trapped in his forehead. He rubbed at his lid, wincing as the glass cut into more skin.

Father Jeremy crossed himself.

* * *

The SUV slammed into a pothole, causing the phone to pop out of Riley’s grasp. He snatched it up from the footwell. “Watch where you’re going!”

Kelly’s eyes darted to him, but she said nothing.

Riley exhaled, shoulders dropping. “Sorry.”

“We’ll be there soon.”

Another call. Another voicemail.

A half-block from his home. Riley listened for sirens and looked for police cars, but only one was at his house.

“What’s going on?” he asked, unbuckling his safety belt. “Where the hell is the rest of the response team?”

“Not sure.” Kelly craned her neck, keeping the front of the house in her sight as they passed. Before they could park, her phone sang out a TV cop show theme song. She answered, “You’re on speaker phone, sir.”

“Good. Listen up,” McCleary said, “At 09:43, 911 received a call from Father Jeremy Wolff reporting multiple gunmen at Our Lady of Lourdes church.”

“Turn the car around!” Riley re-buckled the seatbelt with a hard snap. “East on 47th Street!”

Kelly peeled into a U-turn. “What do we know?”

At the same time Riley asked, “Is anyone injured?”

“Uniformed LEOs have been unable to enter the premises. They arrived on scene to gunshots and what they believe were flash bangs. This is what we can confirm...”

The sound of rustling papers grated along Riley’s nerves. A snap of ‘hurry up’ readied on his tongue.

“Father Wolff,” McCleary continued, “reports a single gunshot wound to his left shoulder. He and Nikolaj Strakosha are locked inside the rectory office. The call to 911 is open and the operator can hear chatter; however, there’s a lot of static as well as gunfire. Neither Wolff nor Strakosha are responding to attempts at communication. The concern right now is the perps. We have two patrol cars on scene, with more on the way, along with SWAT. They have Strakosha and the priest for leverage. And, if this is the same group that hit Thorpe and Lemelin, they have military grade equipment.”

“We’re two minutes out, sir.” Kelly screeched around a corner, barreled past a couple walking their Yorkie and tapped the breaks at a stop sign before tearing through it. “Make that a minute and a half.”

“Agent Marks, liaise with DPD until I arrive. I’ve assigned Bryant and Porter to the case, under your lead. They are on their way. Cordova—”

“Don’t ask me to stand down, sir.”

The silence on the other end confirmed Riley’s fear.

Finally, McCleary asked, “Our Lady of Lourdes is where you attend church?”

“Yes. And I built most of the rectory.”

“Coordinate with Marks.”

Riley let some of the tension in his body go. “Yes, sir.”

“And Cordova?”

“Sir?”

“That is all you’re to do. After he’s extracted, stay away from Strakosha and this case.” With that, McCleary hung up.

As they passed in front of Rooster’s, three patrol cars pulled into the street behind them. Several people in the bar brought their beers to the windows and sipped casually while checking out the parade of vehicles. Riley silently promised to buy Jeremy a plate of nachos every day.

And Cai?

“Give me a rundown of the church,” Kelly said.

“Twenty-five-foot-long nave with two ten-square-foot transepts at each end of the altar.”

“What’s a transept?”

“The inside of the church is built like a cross. One long aisle to the altar with two transepts, or you can call them short hallways, on either side of it. Facing the altar, left transept leads to the altar boy room, on your right will be the rectory. Each transept has two stained glass windows about a foot wide and ten feet in length.”

“Is that our way in?”

“No. Getting multiple team members through would be logistically unsound. It’s a good way out though. That’d be my exit were I them. The bottom of the frames are about knee-high. Break those open and you can easily slip into the garden which abuts Argo Park. Only downside is the six-foot stone wall. There is a wooden gate that opens to a narrow path that leads to the garden. It’s great cover. Lots of grass to mask footsteps. If one team goes that way, the other could set up in the park, in case the perps make it over the wall.” He fell silent as the cross over the main arch came into view.

“You ready?” she asked.

Riley unclipped his gun, checked his magazine. “Ready.”

His niece had been baptized at this church. He’d stood as best man for two sisters here, and as a pall bearer for his brother. His first mortal sin had been a stolen kiss in the rectory. What memories would this place leave with him today? The loss of his best friend? Of Cai?

The car came to a full stop. Riley pushed out the morbid thoughts and flung his door open. He followed Kelly to the groups of uniformed men behind a blockade of patrol cars. IDs raised to eye level, they split up—Kelly heading toward the officer with the most stripes on his shirt. Riley veered left to get a better view of the side gate. He divided his attention between the church doors and the wall surrounding the garden, gauging how much of the area was not covered by the few LEOs on scene. There was a lot of uncovered ground.

Three more patrol cars pulled up. Six officers doubletimed it toward Kelly. She spread her arms, pointing like a traffic controller. “Get around the back wall, through the park. You and you, east. You two, west. The perps are heavily armed and—”

Pops of gunshots and the crash of glass sent everyone ducking behind vehicles.

Riley flipped the tab on his holster open. He snuck around the front end of the patrol car and eyed the gate. With his gun held near his thigh, he bent low and ran. He didn’t care about his job, didn’t care about how angry Kelly would be, didn’t care about his orders. All his focus centered on one thought.

Be alive. Be alive.

* * *

Cai finished firing his gun until it clicked empty. He’d hit the window several times in any case. Maybe it was enough to keep the guy out there away. from it. His eyes burned from debris and blood. “Fuzz! Come. ?Ven! ?Ven!” Afraid to think about what they’d done to Fuzz, and unable to hear or see anything, he crawled out of his safe spot, frantically feeling for the leash. Please don’t be hurt. His fingers landed on the loop of the handle. He tugged on it and then sobbed with relief when the dog trotted back, shaking off whatever violence had been done to him.

“Quieto.” Fuzz sat in guard stance and remained close.

Cai used the lull to fake reloading and hung his head. No bullets left. If there were sirens, he couldn’t hear them. Father Jeremy looked paler and started to shiver. They were out of time.

He needed to assess the options they had left for an escape, but sweat, blood, and white spots dotted his vision. Dust filled his lungs. He coughed and swiped his arm across his face, wincing when a jagged sliver of glass scratched the skin. “Ow,” he whispered. Gingerly, he felt around the top of his eyebrow, found the culprit and scraped until a shard fell into his lap.

Father Jeremy tapped his hip with one black wingtip and tried to speak to him. Cai put a finger to his lips. The priest nodded and closed his eyes.

A radio crackled but Cai couldn’t hear what was relayed. The sound of glass breaking followed.

Fuzz bared his teeth, mouth opening and closing. Bits of flesh, blood, and saliva frothed around his muzzle and flung onto the carpet. The ringing in Cai’s ears finally tapered off, only to be replaced by loud piercing barks.

Ow.

“Silencio.” Fuzz instantly stopped, tail wagging tentatively. “Good boy,” Cai whispered.

“Hey...Pay attention!” A man outside the door banged against it. “You listening? ...Hey, kid? Kid! Can you hear me?”

They didn’t appear concerned or hurried. Did they know something he didn’t? “I’m listening,” Cai answered.

“You’re out of ammo. Put the gun down, come with me, the priest and the dog live. I come in there and that dog attacks, they’re both dead.

“If you’re waiting for a rescue,” the man continued, “they aren’t coming in here without trying to negotiate or route a breach. I’m going to get to you long before that. I’ll give you a few seconds to think it over.”

Was that true or a bluff? Cai didn’t know about police tactics, but that made sense. Still, they couldn’t know for sure he’d run out of ammo which is why they’d switched to talking to him. “If you really thought I was out of bullets, you’d be battering that door. You know I’m not.”

“That’s a limited time offer, kid,” another one grunted with a strained voice.

Oh, keeping the injured one alive. That was heartening. They were well-armed, but stupid about their team. He could work with that. “I...um, I think I’ll wait? Thank you.”

Thank you? he silently asked the ceiling. What?

They slammed against the door. It breathed out, the wood cracking. Wind gusted in through the window, lifting the few papers off the desk. The church’s shopping list floated onto the toe of his sneaker.

Bluff called.

“Wait!” he shouted. “I’ll...I’ll come.”

The priest watched him set down the gun. His eyes widened and he struggled and failed in a quest to sit up. “Don’t, Nikolaj.”

Cai met Father Jeremy’s gaze and shrugged. “Gotta.” After patting the dog goodbye, he wiped his palms along his jeans and opened the door.

A bad guy with a slick black ponytail had a wet bloodstain along his pants. Cai had a brief moment of schadenfreude before an even bigger guy with dead eyes grabbed a handful of his hair and dragged him to a broken window. Cai hissed and stumbled along, holding his arms out in case he faceplanted onto pieces of stained glass. Dead Eyes swung a leg over the knee-high drywall and pulled Cai through. They moved him too quickly, and he narrowly missed slicing open his palms on a piece of glass as he lurched onto the stone path. Ponytail hopped over next, making it two steps before they all were abruptly stopped.

“FBI! Put your hands in the air.”

No one moved.

“If you only knew how much I wanted to shoot you right now, you wouldn’t be hesitating.”

They slowly raised their hands.

While Riley retrieved their guns and ordered them to the ground, Cai rubbed his tender scalp. A third bad guy, likely the one with the flashbangs, lay handcuffed on the ground already. The schadenfreude returned, but the sight of Ponytail’s mangled arm made him forget his satisfaction. The guy was shot in the leg and Fuzz had torn his arm up.

“I don’t get it. Why didn’t you shoot him?” he asked no one in particular. Dead Eyes looked up at Riley. “No, not him. Him.” Cai pointed at the injured man. Riley’s glare was very similar to when he’d been caught with his hands down his pants earlier. That confused him further. Did Riley not understand why this was significant? “He must be important because otherwise he’d be dead, right? Can’t bring him over the wall. He’s injured. Dead weight. So, I mean why not shoot him? Cops can’t question a dead guy. But they didn’t. See? He’s the one in charge. You should talk to him first.”

“That does not mean he’s the one in charge.” Riley finished clipping the plastic cuffs on Ponytail. Then he roughly grabbed Dead Eye’s wrists. “I don’t have time to explain to you the brothers-in-arms bond, Nikolaj.” He lifted a handheld radio from his belt. “Outside of that, I really wish your answer to everything wasn’t, ‘Shoot it dead.’”

That reminded Cai. “Father Jeremy!” He turned and ran back inside.

* * *

As a frenzy of media converged on the scene, Riley waited at the perimeter to get chewed out—and possibly fired. He leaned against McCleary’s Impala parked behind the ambulances and police cruisers, where he’d been ordered to ‘not move a fucking inch!”

Lázaro, one of the neighborhood residents, waved one leathery hand to Riley in that succinct way soldiers communicated they wanted a chat. The man liked to gossip, which Riley found out when he shoveled the walks in the winter. He could only offer a brief smile in reply and tilted his badge, hoping Laz took it as ‘I’m working, sorry.’ Just in case it was important, Riley pointed at McCleary, indicating that’s who Laz should speak with.

The next fifteen minutes passed with him developing cramps from the force of his fist clenching. It wasn’t until the EMTs brought Cai out that he allowed his hands to flex. Cameras flashed. Reporters screamed questions. Half an hour ago, those grey eyes had been bright and inquisitive. Now, Cai stared vacantly at the ground while the officers led him to the back of the ambulance. Blood skimmed down his face from the minor wounds on his forehead and cheek, dripping onto the white t-shirt. Other than bruises and scrapes, Cai appeared okay.

Riley released his tension in a slow breath. His heart came to life with a mighty thump against his chest.

A DPD sergeant barreled past the paramedic treating Cai and appeared to be trying to take his statement. The instinct to rescue him kicked in. Riley almost took a step forward, stopping himself just in time for their gazes to lock. Cai’s lids fell shut, and the fear seemed to drain away from his neck and shoulders.

Somehow, his mere presence made Cai safe.

More paramedics broke Riley’s trance as they wheeled Jeremy out of Our Lady of Lourdes and into a second ambulance. A bloody bandage covered his friend’s bare shoulder. He hadn’t been ordered to stay away from Jeremy. And if McCleary thought Riley would wait for clearance to go with his friend, well, fuck that.

He jogged to the ambulance, flashing flashed his ID as he climbed into the back. Kelly looked over at him, and then eyed McCleary. The SWAT commander flagged her attention and she spoke to him while making a shooing motion at her thigh.

Riley cast one last look at the ambulance holding Cai but could only see the open door from this angle. His last image of the scene was his dog being brought out of the church.

He added ‘Find where they have Fuzz’ to the growing list of things to do tomorrow. Along with ‘Wring Cai’s neck’, ‘Lock him away and toss out the key’ and ‘Visit the doctor for blood pressure pills’.

“Riles,” Jeremy said as the doors closed. “Tell me the truth. This is the real reason you didn’t want to become a priest.”

“I tried to tell you,” Riley replied in Spanish as he moved out of the EMT’s way. “Bullets are your punishment for that erotic picture of the Angel Gabriel passed around at school.”

“That was you!”

“Then why did everyone think it was you?”

The paramedic interrupted with medical questions. Riley had some questions of his own, but none that he could or would ask in front of the EMT. He sat back and spent the remainder of the ride trying not to think about what he nearly lost. Then he prayed and thanked God for His small mercies.