Not So Innocent (Shattered Glass #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A second Black Hawk buzzed over Riley’s head. Windbreakers puffed up and dozens of police cruiser doors blew open.

“Pick up and hang up?” Kelly asked, her eyes following the helicopter.

With his hand hovering over the portable switchboard, Noah Smart waited for the helicopter to pass before answering her. “Yes. Almost exactly every five minutes.” He pressed the button to redial.

While Smart taking over negotiation, Riley had little to do but wait. And stew. This was going nowhere. His frustration mounted every time Smart redialed. Nearly two hours pissed away with fuckall to show for it and more than three hours since they took Cai. Kelly’s talk had the opposite of her intended effect. Images of Cai’s broken body flashed in his head. He’d never felt the urge to rip someone apart with his bare hands until now. “They’re waiting for something. Or someone,” he said. “They are not going to negotiate,” he repeated. “Where are our eyes and ears? We need to get in there.”

“Did we not have this conversation twenty minutes ago?” Kelly turned, meeting his eyes with a steady glare. She muttered under her breath, then caught something behind him. “SWAT is ready. Pull your shit together, because you are not going in like this. Get out of my sight before I decide you are a liability. Come back when you’re not fired up to run in there, guns blazing.”

Riley backed off, hands raised as he moved behind an SUV. He wasn’t giving her any excuse to remove him. Besides, she was right. He was on edge. Jittery and anxious. Hand on his gun. Checking his magazine every two minutes.

Calm the fuck down !

He’d trained himself to focus on what was expected of him. In the past fifteen years, he’d mastered being reliable, calm, and orderly. Perfect . Everything had been on track. He looked at his shaking hand. Fuck. For once, the ease of focus eluded him.

He rubbed his face, breathing into his palms

What am I going to do, walk up eight flights of stairs and start shooting?

He dragged his hands over his hair. Calm trickled in.

Focus and be logical. Whatever they are doing to Cai, he would not react with emotion.

Riley stopped pacing and watched the horizon swallow up the last rays of sun. Lights across Denver flickered on. A sea of stars illuminated the evening sky. Disturbingly peaceful.

From the roof of the building, a single gunshot cracked the silence. An explosion followed, brokering a millisecond of stillness before pandemonium swept across the parking lot.

“Shots fired! Shots fired!”

“Officers down! Helo-One down!”

* * *

The tip of a helicopter blade nearly clipped the window in the south as it rotated spastically in its descent. A second later, the earth rattled like the Richter scale went up two digits.

Riley’s on the ground. Riley’s down there. Papa, check if he’s okay? Is he okay?

“He’s fine. I promise, Arush. Figure out how to get out of this.”

Why did they do that?

“The FBI were going on the roof.”

Okay. What’s next then? What will the FBI do?

“Come up the stairs.”

They are going to blow the stairs. What will the FBI do then?

“Perhaps get in through another floor?”

They’ll be too late. We’ll be gone.

“Julian!” he whispered. “I need help. Please!” Julian didn’t or couldn’t answer. He stared at the carpet with glazed eyes while cradling his injured hand.

Cai took a chance. “Rachel?” Only her raspy breaths responded.

He was on his own.

Xander loaded an M4 and then set it down on the desk, along with grenades and pistols. He pushed furniture around in a makeshift barricade, while checking the monitors every few seconds.

Rivers disappeared down the hallway near the exit sign.

“How long?” Pierce asked as he looked down from the window in front of Cai.

“They’ll attempt a breach in the next half hour,” Xander answered. “They won’t risk another helo until the roof is secured. When Rivers takes out the first floor, they’ll regroup and plan a different entry, unless he manages to take out a good portion of their team. Either way, we have at least an hour. That’s forty-five minutes we won’t need.”

Why do they only need fifteen minutes?

“To go on the roof with you.”

No. Four minutes max for Rivers to get back up here from the ground floor. Two minutes to gather us and walk to the roof. That’s ten minutes. These are precise, military plans. They need fifteen. Why?

“To set other explosives. Many explosives.”

Yes, Papa. On other floors.

He studied Julian and Rachel.

Are they good leverage or useless?

“They will slow you down. Let the cops get them.”

No, Papa. Julian is terrified and will follow any order they give him. They won’t kill him. Rachel? Can she even walk? No point killing leverage, even damaged leverage, right?

“Right.”

Am I too biased? Can I not see the smart thing to do because it’s Rachel?

“Leave them. Break the window and go.”

Shh. Rivers is gone. I need to plan.

“What do you want to do with those two?” Pierce pointed at Julian and Rachel.

“Why do you wait? Nothing can kill you. Just go.”

I won't leave Rachel and Julian! And I can’t listen if you’re all talking at the same time.

“Bring the other two. Once Rivers is back up here, I’ll take Strakosha and Thompson.”

“And if Rivers doesn’t make it back up?”

Xander stopped and looked out the window. “He’ll make it.”

On which floors would Rivers place the explosives? Cai’s whole plan hinged on Rachel and Julian making it down at least two flights.

They can’t blow every floor, or it might take the whole building down. They’ll take out a few stairwells and the elevator. That would leave one way out or into the building—through the roof, where they have the sniper, and the guy with Thumper, whatever or whoever that is, and a helicopter.

“Shoot the window and jump, Arush. They will watch you. Then your friends will run down.”

Yes.

Simpering came from the figure seated across from Cai. His attention whipped to Tommy. The palm of his hand bled from the grip on his blade.

After I kill him.

“They’re coming,” Pierce shouted, jogging to the bathroom and disappearing behind the false door.

“Julian,” Cai hissed. “I will fucking kill you first if you don’t listen to me.” That got his attention. Cai’d never used the word so much as he had the past few days, but they had limited time with none of the bad guys within ear shot. “I will take out whichever one of them comes near me. When I do, you need to get down on the floor. I’ll get Rachel to you. Once I distract the other one, you get her to the stairs. Go down two floors and hide. Don’t use the elevator. If you cannot move her 'cause of your leg, get under the sofa and pull her in with you.”

Xander picked up a radio. “Rivers, report. Over.”

“Nod if you got it, Julian,” Cai gave his voice the sharp edge it needed.

Julian nodded and croaked out, “Yeah.”

Rivers whispered his reply. “Ten meateaters nut to butt facing target one. Two true blue pulling up the rear. Drop in roger minus thirty seconds. Acknowledge. Over.”

“Affirm. Out.” Xander put the radio back on the table.

True blue would be…cops?...FBI?

Ten meat eaters nut to butt? What could that mean?

Nevermind that, concentrate on the important things!

Target one was the stairs for sure.

What’s target two? Or three or four? You didn’t number things one unless there was a two.

What’s a meat eater? Police dogs?

Decoding that conversation kept Cai’s brain occupied far longer than it should have. He understood they were coordinating the explosion. None of that information was useful for a better escape route.

Drop in roger minus thirty seconds? Drop what?

Twenty seconds to figure it out.

Useless information!

Rivers down on floor one. That was useful. Just Xander and Pierce left.

Julian would hopefully figure out when to get to the floor. Rachel was the problem.

Release wrists, pull Rachel to the floor? She’ll smack her head, but better than a bullet. Slice throat. Pull Rachel to the floor. Shoot Xander. Difficult but doable if he could get to the gun quick enough.

“They can’t kill you. Nothing can kill you with me here.”

Slice, pull Rachel down, get gun, shoot.

“Again, Arush.”

He went over his movements. Playing them out over and over.

Breath.

Slice, pull, get gun, shoot.

Pulse.

Slice, pull, shoot.

“They will die tonight.”

Yes.

“Like I taught you, Arush. Wear their blood like a trophy.”

Yes, Papa.