8:58 p.m.
This is dedicated to the four police officers and one DART officer who were tragically shot and killed one year ago today (July 7, 2017) in the Dallas shooting against police officers.
Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider
8:58 p.m.
July 7, 2016
Main Street, Dallas, Texas
Alex wasn't sure how it happened.
He was currently hunkered down beside a police car, with fellow police officer Bryan Colby. Colby had taken a shot to the leg, but he wasn't letting that get in his way. He swung around and returned the fire that was coming from a building at the end of Main Street. Alex did the same, studiously avoiding looking at the fallen bodies of other police officers and the screams of protesters around him.
Alex let his mind wander as his instinctive shooting took over. It had been a long night and it was only going to get longer. But Alex's concern was not for himself. It was for the protesters who were scrambling for cover.
"Hide!" Alex screamed at a woman right before she was gunned down. She hit the pavement and clutched at her leg.
"Damn it," Alex hissed.
Colby finished firing and leaned back against the car. He changed the magazine for his gun. He shifted his leg, groaning as the action aggravated his injury.
"You alright?" Alex asked, drawing back.
"Fine," Colby said through gritted teeth, his Texas accent suddenly more pronounced. "Someone needs to go after this son of a bitch."
"Yeah," Alex agreed. He ducked as a bullet hit their car, pulling Colby down with him, ignoring the officer's strangled yell as Alex's flailing foot caught his leg. Alex apologized. Colby waved him off.
Alex took a moment to survey the scene. Around him people were running, trying to get away from the shooter. The other officers (the surviving ones, Alex's mind supplied) were lined up behind their cars, firing at the shooter. None of them had tried to go after him yet. So Alex decided he would.
Alex stood up over the hood of the cruiser, counting on the element of surprise to save him. He counted wrong. As soon as Alex started rising, he felt a bullet slam into his shoulder. He gave a grunt of surprise and fell back, dropping his gun and clasping a hand over his bleeding shoulder. Luckily the bullet hadn't hit any arteries.
"You idiot Brits!" Colby yelled.
Alex was shocked at how fast the shooter had gotten him. He hadn't even stood up fully yet! Obviously military trained, Alex thought. Only someone with training and brains could have orchestrated this whole event.
Alex stayed down. The sound of gunfire faded away slowly, telling Alex that the shooter was on the move. Alex cautiously stood up again. No bullets came after him.
"Rider!" another cop yelled. "What the fuck are you doin'?"
"Get back!" someone else yelled. "SWAT is going in!"
That gave Alex pause. Maybe SWAT could handle it, he thought. No need for him to get involved or play hero. Alex made his decision and ran back to the fallen officers. He checked for pulses and bowed his head when he couldn't find any.
"I'm sorry," he told the others sincerely. He crawled over to Colby and slowly started to do what he could for his partner's leg.
Four hours later it was all over.
2:30 a.m.
July 8, 2016
El Centro College, Dallas, Texas
Alex's shoulder had stopped bleeding and wasn't inhibiting his movement, so he decided he could continue. His commanding officer said otherwise but eventually caved, saying they had more important things to worry about.
Alex was the one who gave the chief the idea to use the robot. He had made an off-hand comment in frustration saying how much easier this would be if they were robots. Next thing he knew, Chief was sending in a robot with a pound of C-4. Alex watched as the windows of a hallway in El Centro College blew out. He knew that the shooter was dead.
The explosion made Alex's mind flash back to when he was in Egypt, watching someone else get blown up. He banished the thought before it could go further. He couldn't have a flashback now. Alex wandered around, making himself useful for a while before his name was called.
"Rider!" the chief barked.
"Yes, sir," he called back, heads of people he didn't know turning at his accent, so different from theirs.
"There's an ambulance leaving in twenty minutes," he said. "I want you on it."
"No, sir," Alex declined. "I'd be of more use here. I can fix myself up when I go off duty."
"Rider," Chief said gently. "You don't need to patch yourself up. We got doctors for that up at Parkland. I want you there. Someone will be 'round to get your statement tomorrow." Alex still wasn't convinced. "Your wife is probably worried sick," Chief continued. "If you won't go for yourself, go for Sabina and your kid."
Alex sighed. "That is unfair," he muttered. But he went anyway, knowing that Chief was right. He really needed to see Sabina and his son. So Alex went down to where the ambulance was, catching t just before it left. The medic on the job took one look at his shoulder and told him, very roughly, but not without kindness, that he should have gone to the hospital straight away.
"How could I have when my friends were hurt worse than me?" Alex responded. "Or worse, dead."
The medic, who Alex noted had dog tags around his neck, just gave him a look of understanding before giving him a shot of morphine for the pain Alex wasn't feeling.
The doors were closed and the ambulance started on it's journey.
11:00 a.m.
July 8, 2016
Parkland Memorial Hospital, Dallas, Texas
Alex was sat up in bed, with his three year old son clasped tightly in his arms. Sabina, his wife of five years, was seated in a chair next to his bed, hands resting on a swollen stomach.
"Is he asleep?" Sabina whispered.
Alex looked at his son's tear-stained, but peaceful face. When Sabina had been allowed to enter his room after hours of waiting with his son, the boy had flung himself at his father and started sobbing into his neck. Alex had put his arms around him, not caring that it pulled at the fresh stitches in his shoulder.
"I think so," Alex whispered back.
Sabina finally let herself crack. "I was so worried," she said, crying. "Not knowing if you were alive, especially when they said that there were officers down. John was hysterical; it took me hours to calm him."
"I'm alright, Sab." Alex was quick to reassure. "I'm going to be fine."
"I know," Sabina said. "I know. It's just worrying. You being out there. But you're helping people. I know that matters to you."
Alex smiled at her as a nurse came in to change the bandages around his shoulder. He tried to hand John to Sabina, but the boy wouldn't let go, his grip seemed ten times more powerful when he was asleep. So Alex just shifted him so he was curled up in his father's lap. He sent an apologetic smile to the nurse, who waved him off with a cheery smile of her own, even though Alex knew she had to be feeling the pressure from having seven police officers under her care.
After the bandages were changed, Alex settled back in his bed, content to spend a day with his family before reporters came asking for a story. Sabina came and snuggled into his side, clinging to him in a way that let him know just how scared she was. Alex rested a hand on her stomach, staring at the vision that was his wife.
Alex realized how lucky he was. It easily could have been him who was killed. But it wasn't. And so he got to see his wife and kid again, while his comrades couldn't. He tried not to feel guilty. He knew it wasn't his fault. Five officers were dead, and one wasn't him. It was hard not to.
Alex looked down at his son. This event made him realize just how important his family was to him. And how important he must be to them. Alex smiled and pressed a kiss onto Sabina's forehead.
If only MI6 could see him now.
No comment about the robot was made in reality. I thought it would be something Alex would have said despairingly in the situation.
The Dallas shooting was the single deadliest incident for U.S. law enforcement since 9/11. If you want to learn more about this event, this video has a diagram re-enactment of what went down. And of course, there are always eyewitness accountants and amateur videos.
watch?v=6uCP3EfXvhc