Sgt. Deacon 'Deke' Kay leaned on the communication desk in the back of the War Wagon as Lt. Harrelson received updates from the patrol sergeant on-scene at the convenience store holdup that went sour and became a hostage situation. The Olympic SWAT team members swayed as they prepared for action. Jim Street double-checked the magazine in his Colt 1911, slipping the full mag into the grip butt and holstering the gun in his shoulder harness. Dominic Luca adjusted his bullet-proof vest, fastening the front one-handed with his M16 in the other. TJ McCabe checked the scope on his Model 70 long gun, checking that the mag well was full with .308 cartridges.
Harrelson addressed the team. "Report is two perps in the store. Ski masks so no identification on them. Witnesses say the gunmen are really twitchy – likely on something."
"That certainly doesn't help," Dom Luca said.
"No it doesn't," agreed Harrelson. "We'll have to be on our toes."
"How many hostages?" asked Jim Street.
"Three didn't make it out before the gunmen got the doors locked. A pregnant woman, an older couple," Harrelson said.
"Would've been nice if someone could've helped them get out of there," TJ commented.
"I'm sure it was hectic for a bit, but, yeah, I concur." Harrelson looked at each man in turn. "This could get ugly with those hostages."
Everyone nodded agreement.
Sam brought the SWAT van to a screeching halt at a location strategic to the situation. The men exited, crouching behind patrol cars a discreet distance from the store front. Harrelson located the patrol sergeant.
"Hondo," the sergeant greeted Harrelson, "it's pretty ugly in there."
"What do we have?" Harrelson surveyed the store, the surrounding buildings.
"Two jacked crackpots with pistols, according to the escaped witnesses," the sergeant reported. "A very pregnant woman and a couple in their eighties were pushed down in the mad rush to flee and are now hostages."
Harrelson didn't miss the disdain in the sergeant's voice on the hostage situation. "We'll get them out of there."
Looking around, Harrelson called, "TJ, up on that sign catwalk. Stay alert."
TJ nodded and headed for the billboard advertising a brand of cigarettes at the edge of the parking lot.
"Deke, cover the back. Street, Luca, get on the roof and look for a way inside."
The men took off at Harrelson's command.
Dom received a boost up to a sub-roof, catching the rifles tossed up to him. Deke knelt and Jim stepped up on his horizontal thigh and up again on his clasped hands to reach the sub-roof. Deke then settled in behind trash containers to cover the back door. He radioed to Harrelson that he was in position.
Jim and Dom found a roof hatch just to the right of the rear door, likely leading into a storage or mechanical room. Quietly, they lifted the hatch door and peered below into a storage room. Jim laid his rifle across the opening and squeezed around it, holding fast, dangling above the floor. Letting go, he dropped into a crouch on the floor. Dom passed down both their rifles and, grasping the sides of the opening, dropped quietly to the floor.
Pressing his ear to the door leading from the storage room into the store, Jim heard muffled voices, but couldn't make out what was being said. He figured that Harrelson had his bullhorn out and was trying to diffuse the situation, but it didn't seem like the gunmen were taking it to heart.
Dom radioed them in position. They waited.
Just a couple of minutes later a shot rang out from inside the store. Jim heard screaming. Immediately, the radio buzzed.
"TJ, green light. Hostage shot. Green light." Harrelson's voice was urgent but clear.
Jim and Dom prepared to enter the store, waiting for Harrelson's go. Jim's hand clamped on the door knob – ready at any instant. They heard a distant shot, more screaming. That should have been TJ.
"Go!" Harrelson's voice erupted over the radio. "One gunman down."
Jim pulled the door open and Dom ran, crouching behind the aisle displays, to the left. Jim ran to the right, shouldering his rifle onto his back by its sling and unholstering his pistol. In such close quarters the rifle was overkill.
Dom closed in on the cash register at the front of the store where the gunmen and hostages were. "Police," he called out. "Drop your weapon."
As expected, the gunman turned toward Dom. Also as expected, Jim shot the gunman, hitting his shoulder. The gun dropped harmlessly to the ground and the gunman went to his knees, holding his arm. Dom ran in and kicked the gun away and got the gunman belly-down on the floor.
Jim checked the carotid artery at the neck on the other gunman, shaking his head. Deke had rushed in and had the elderly couple on their feet, herding them toward the door and outside. Jim looked into the manager's office and found the pregnant woman trying to hide behind a filing cabinet, her distended abdomen protruded beyond the cabinet, giving her away. He holstered his pistol and walked over to her.
"Ma'am," he said quietly, calmly, "it's over." He took her trembling hand and then noticed her arm bleeding. Immediately, he swept her into his arms and rushed outside with her. She clung to him, crying softly. An ambulance was there and he sat her on the waiting gurney.
"You're in good hands now," he told her, pulling away.
TJ joined Jim as the woman was loaded into the ambulance and it roared away.
"They shot a pregnant woman," Jim murmured, shaking his head. He walked back to the store with TJ.
Medics were stabilizing the gunman that Jim had shot; two patrol cops standing close by them.
Deke knelt beside the dead gunman and pulled off his ski mask. "Damn," he choked out, looking into the youthful face.
"It's a kid," TJ said. He paled. "I killed a kid?" Backing up, a disgusted frown tightened on his face. Wide eyed, he glared at Deke. "I killed a kid."
The medics had the injured gunman on a gurney. He saw his cohort lying on the floor. "Willy?" he called. "That's my kid brother. Willy!" The cops pushed the gurney out the door, shielding the gunman from the sight inside the store.
Harrelson took TJ by the arm, pulling him out of the store. "That kid," he growled, "shot a pregnant woman. He was holding up this store."
"But he's just a kid," TJ said, despair etching his face.
"It was a clean shoot, TJ. We aren't responsible for how old these perps are." He squeezed TJ's arm, shook it lightly. "It was a clean."
TJ turned toward the store, closing his eyes. "You don't shoot kids." He faced Harrelson again. "You don't shoot kids." He took a gulping breath. "He should be in school. Playing basketball, going to dances."
"But he wasn't," Harrelson said. "He and his brother decided to skip and hold up a store. Shoot a pregnant lady."
"And I killed him." Jerking away from Harrelson's grip, TJ sank to his haunches, leaning his back against the store wall. Steadying himself with both hands on his rifle, he lowered his face against his arms.
Harrelson wasn't certain of TJ's emotional state, but he stepped back and turned away to give him a private moment. Deke came over and stood next to Harrelson. Jim took post on the other side of Harrelson. Dom stood next to Deke. They provided a semi-circle shield for TJ from the outside world.