Chapter 36
Bullets crisscrossed the hallway.
The deafening cacophony of sound rattled my skull. The thick, reinforced concrete walls and steel made it impossible to get cell service in this building.
There was no calling for backup.
The thug on our right fired another few shots, peppering the corner of our storage unit.
More chips of concrete spewed.
He hit the mag-release button, and the magazine fell to the concrete and danced away.
Jack took the opportunity to angle his pistol around the corner and open fire.
I covered him with fire in the opposite direction, blasting at Rodney.
Jack sent a bullet downrange. It caught the thug in the collar and spun him around.
Crimson spewed, painting the concrete wall and the orange steel door behind him.
His gun clattered away, and he writhed on the ground, moaning in agony.
One down, two to go.
I dropped my magazine out and reloaded, then fired a steady stream at Rodney.
Jack darted out of the storage space and hustled right. He made himself slim and pressed into the recess at a neighboring door. There was just enough cover from the jamb to offer some protection.
I kept putting down suppressive fire while JD advanced to the corner in another burst of speed. He angled his pistol around at the fallen thug and ducked out of sight. He kicked the perp’s weapon away, then knelt down and checked vitals. "Suspect Deceased!”
I breathed a little easier and shouted at Rodney, "This isn't going to end well for you. Put your weapons down and surrender. The police are en route."
"Fuck you!" he shouted back.
We exchanged another volley of gunfire, but I was running low on ammunition. Down to my last magazine, I wasn’t excited about the possibility of this dragging on.
I knew where Rodney was, but his comrade was out there somewhere in the maze of passageways.
Jack was likely trying to flank Rodney.
I tried to keep the scumbag occupied with a well-directed gunshot now and again.
It wasn't long before Jack reached the end of the next hallway that ran parallel to this one. Near the elevator, he angled his pistol around the corner and shouted at Rodney, "Drop the weapon!”
Like a dipshit, Rodney spun around and took aim at Jack.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Each bullet sent a shockwave through Rodney's chest. He twisted around and fell back to the ground, gurgling a few last breaths before rattling out.
"Contact down!" Jack shouted.
I didn't want to leave Shane or Brandi in the storage unit unarmed as long as there was another thug out there somewhere. But there was a distinct possibility that he decided to get the hell out of here. That was the smart play.
Jack advanced to Rodney and checked vitals. He shouted, “Suspect deceased!”
The distant sound of sirens warbled. Somebody must have heard the commotion and called the police.
I tried to get a signal again, but couldn't get a bar.
Jack moved through the corridors, clearing them one by one, making his way back around to us.
"I don't know where he is,” he said when he stepped back into the storage unit.
I told Shane to keep his mouth shut and let me do the talking.
The elevator door opened, and footsteps flooded into the corridor. With weapons drawn, PBPD officers closed in on Rodney's body.
I held my badge out of the storage unit and shouted down the hallway, "Coconut County Sheriff's Department.”
"On the ground!" an officer shouted, angling his pistol around the corner at me. "Face down."
I groaned. This was going to be a headache.