A/N: Good day, and welcome to my new fanfiction The Middle of Us. For information sakes, this fiction is the continuation of my previous fiction A New Beginning.
"Sierra- do you have the solution?" Sarge asked.
"Copy that." Came my reply.
"Scorpio."
"Lover…" Sara said in her sexy voice.
I turned around and kissed her. She wore her paramedic uniform as I wore my SRU uniform.
"I love you." I replied.
"Yeah," Sara returned, "You still didn't answer my question."
"Sorry, drinks tonight with the gang at the Goose."
"The sleazy bar where we met?"
"That'd be the one."
I walked into the main doors of SRU. Once inside, Dean Parker zip lined down from the ceiling to the floor right in front of me.
"Now you see what happens when you make a fool out of yourself, right?" I asked.
"Yea, sorry Megan- won't happen again." Dean replied frantically as he was trying to get himself out of the harness.
I gave him a quizzical look.
"Deep breaths," I instructed, "And slow down."
I turned to enter the women's locker-room.
"Yo!" came a familiar voice.
I turned to see Sam Braddock.
"Officer Samuel Braddock." I said with a smile.
"Here and in the flesh." Sam smiled back, as he started to enter the men's locker room with Dean.
My cellphone vibrated with a text message, so I grabbed it and read it.
"Suit up," I said, "Mike wants us in the debriefing room in five."
Once we had our full uniforms on- including firearms, ballistic vests and other gear, we all attended to the debriefing room, an area where SRU or Strategic Response Unit Teams would congregate to co-ordinate tactical plans and discuss events of calls throughout the day.
"Strategic Response Unit Team One." The Sargent of the team, Mike Scarlatti said, as they entered the room, "The best and brightest."
"I don't know about brightest," I replied, as we took a seat, "Dean looks green. You ok buddy?"
"I'm fine."
Mike dropped some files he was carrying onto the desk, and grabbed the remote for the projector, in which turned on a displayed an entire rap sheet of information.
"Thom Sawyer." Mike said, "Wanted for connections to the DiCamilo gang. Until yesterday, he didn't have a last known."
"And today?" I asked, knowing the question, as I read down on the projector screen.
"Residing at 14 Victoria Crescent." Mike said, "Which is why we have a warrant for his arrest."
"Containing?" I asked.
"Him, and any and all possessions at his current residence, including but not limited to cars, planes and trains."
"Trains?" Sam asked.
'Seriously, Spike, enough with the rhymes." I included, calling the Sargent by his old nickname.
Mike shook his head. "Warrant expires at 1500 so we need to hustle."
Then a loud horn rang out, followed by a woman's voice over the intercom saying "Team One, hot call!"
Mike looked out the open door to the dispatcher's desk, the location of the woman's voice.
"Jules!" Mike yelled out, "Up Team 3 from standby, we have a warrant."
"Team 3 was sent out on the domestic from an hour ago that you didn't want to go to." Jules reasoned, "I can call up Team 5 for the warrant."
Spike turned around and looked at the information.
"Yeah, ok, let's do that."
As soon as the details were finalized we were racing to the garage to get into our vehicles. In the process I purposely ran past the dispatcher's desk, where I got a 'good luck' wink from my mother.
I drove, as Sam was my passenger. In the truck behind us, were Dean and Mike.
"Jules," I asked over the radio, calling my mother by name, "What do we know?"
"Not much actually." Came her reply, "Man took a woman hostage, holding her at gunpoint on Younge Street.
"Any demands?" Mike asked, "What did the first responders report?"
"First responders reported a European man, approximately 40 years of age holding a younger European woman hostage."
"That doesn't really help us much, does it?" I asked Mike over the radio.
"We'll probably need a translator." Mike said, "Jules, contact the university and the consulate- see if anyone speaks the language."
We pulled up on scene.
"SRU on scene." I voiced into the radio, as we got out.
As soon as we got out, we were swarmed by media reporters, and newscasters. I grabbed a regular police officer by the arm and said, "We need a tighter perimeter- get these people back another forty feet."
I looked over my shoulder to Mike, who was also taking in the large crowd of both media persons, members of the public and almost every division of the police service.
I looked over my other shoulder and saw the command truck roll on scene.
"Command truck is here." I said, as we walked up to it, and entered it.
Once inside, Dean automatically sat down and started typing on the computers.
"Dean on intel." I said, "Boss, you want to talk to him?"
"Yeah, we're going to have to establish contact somehow."
"Ok, Sam, you cover him, ok?"
"Got it." Sam said.
I put my MP5 on the weapons rack and grabbed a bolt action rifle, "I'll get a Sierra post. Dean- set me up."
"Copy that." Dean said, as me, Mike and Sam left the truck.
Again, we looked at the crowd, which was now getting under control by the hundreds of officers on scene.
"You know what this reminds me of, right?" Spike asked Sam.
"First York." Sam replied.
I understood what they were talking about. Nearly a decade ago, at First York Plaza, a man had taken a woman hostage at gunpoint, and just like today, nearly every on-duty police officer, including some redundant ones, like the Marine and K9 units. Every officer wanted to act a hero. So much actually, that not enough enforcement was going on at the perimeter, which resulted in a young boy breaching the perimeter.
"Let's hope it doesn't end that way." I simply stated, "Parker- where's my perch?"
Dean found me a Sierra perch. It was on a rooftop of a nearby building that had been locked down due to the incident.
Once on the roof, I secured myself to a suitable anchor point, so I could properly lean down and off the wall to get a perfect shooting position. After I assumed the position, I immediately grabbed my binoculars and scanned the scene.
"Can you see me?" Mike asked.
"I can see you, but you need to move about 30 feet to your left to get an unhindered view. 20 feet...10 feet. Bang- you're good."
Over the radio, I could hear the conversation, or for better terms, lack of conversation.
"Sir, my name is Sargent Mike Scarlatti, and I'm with the Strategic Response Unit- can you tell me what's going on?"
The man replied, but he spoke in a foreign language.
"Ok, ok, sir, I really do just want to talk to you, ok?" Mike spoke, "But we can't talk until you put the gun down, ok? Do you understand that? Gun, down- put the gun down, ok?"
Again, more foreign speech.
"Dean, where's the translator?" I asked into the radio.
"She's here- Sarah Tyrell, Ph.D. in Global Linguistics."
"Honestly, I couldn't care less- just get her hooked up with a radio."
"Mrs. Tyrell, what language is it?"
"It's Croatian." She replied, "He's saying 'It's her fault, she made me do this'."
"Croatian…" Mike replied, "That's similar to Italian, right?"
"Uh, no."
I could hear Mike sigh loudly over the radio.
"Ok, Dean, get her suited up and bring her out here."
"As a TPI?" I responded, "Don't you think that's a bit early?"
"Megan, do you see another option?" came his reply.
"Nope."
"Do you have the solution?"
I grabbed the rifle and lined up the scope reticle.
"I have the solution."
"Hold Sierra. Await my Scorpio."
The next ten minutes were quite uneventful, as when the translator finally got to Mike and Sam's location, the man no longer wanted to talk.
"He's gone silent." Sam pointed out, "Maybe we need to show our hand."
"No," Mike responded, "We come out with our guns at his head; he's going to tunnel vision to the point where all he sees is are the weapons, which he'll take as a threat, and start shooting at us. No."
"Any other options?" I asked.
"Let me try once more." Mike replied, as he returned, with the translator's help to trying to talk with the man.
The man yelled something out, as he swung his weapon hand out and in the general direction of the translator.
"Spike, we need her to fall back now." I said, "The time for kid gloves is over."
"What did he say?" I heard Mike ask the translator.
"He said, 'stop talking, or I'll kill you first.'"
"That's a direct threat." Sam summarized.
"Sierra- do you have the solution?" Mike asked.
"Copy that."
"Scorpio."
I lined up my reticle again, as I moved it, back and forth, as I followed the bobbing man's head.
Using the special breathing technique, I lowered my heart rate, so it wouldn't affect my scope balance. With my thumb, I removed the safety. With my index finger, I pulled the trigger.
Like an act of God, I killed him.
After I shot the rifle, I sat down on the roof, with my back against the cold brick. Two detectives came. One of them I recognized- Inspector Stainton. The other one must be yet another protégé of his.
They took my rifle and my sidearm from me. They bagged it up.
They escorted me down to the police cruiser I was to get in, to take me to the SIU, or Special Investigations Unit interview, where I would be cross-examined by both representatives of the SIU and my lawyer, Emily Makinson, to ensure the use of lethal force was justified.
Once at the cruiser, the unknown detective opened the door for me. I was about to get in, when Mike came up from the other side of the police car.
"Hey, Megan, you ok?"
"Sargent, you know the rules." Stainton said to Mike.
"And I'm going to talk to her- you can either accept this fact, or you can pretend it never happened, while you eat another donut."
"Sargent Scarlatti, that is out of line." Stainton said sternly.
Mike came over to my side. "You ok?" he asked again.
I nodded.
"Yeah, it's just an SIU inspection."
The SIU inspection was at the SRU headquarters. We walked past the dispatcher's desk and down the set of stairs and into the basement were the conference rooms were.
We stepped into conference room number three, where my Police Services lawyer, Emily Makinson was.
"Mrs. Megan Perrasmith." She said, as she shook my hand. We sat down at one side of the table, where the detectives, along with the SIU representative sat.
And I also knew the SIU representative. Jenna Preiur-I had been examined by her before in some of my past SIU interviews. She also knew my father.
Jenna grabbed a recording device and pressed play and put it on the table.
"Monday, December 14th, 2014- SIU Detective Jenna Preiur examining Strategic Response Unit officer Megan Perrasmith." She spoke, stating the facts for the record.
"Actually, its Team Leader Megan Perrasmith." My lawyer corrected.
"Team leader." Jenna parroted, as she adjusted my record in her file, "Ok, Sargent Michelangelo Scarlatti called Scorpio, and you took the shot, as instructed, correct?"
"Yes." I said.
"Why?"
I looked at her puzzled. "Why what?"
"Why did Sargent Scarlatti call Scorpio?"
"He called Scorpio because there was a direct threat to the third party invigilator."
"Who was the TPI?" Jenna asked, "Sorry, but your Inspector is very bad at getting me the documents I need."
"Hey." Inspector Stainton said, "I heard that."
"I was hoping you would." Jenna bluntly replied. "Who was the TPI?"
"The third party invigilator was Sarah Tyrell from the University of Toronto."
"Ph.D?" she asked.
"Yes, In Global Linguistics."
"Was there a language barrier?"
"Yes. The suspect…"
"Geoffrey Cabe." Jenna interrupted.
"What?" I asked.
"Geoffrey Cabe. You do know the name of the man you shot, do you not?"
I was thinking of replying, but I looked over to Emily who shook her head, signing for me not to reply.
"Stick to the facts, please." Emily pointed out.
"What language was he speaking?" Jenna asked.
"The interpreter identified it as Croatian."
"Do you think all possible attempts of a peaceful resolution were utilized before the use of lethal force was enacted?"
"Yes." I replied, although I hardly believed it myself, "My Sargent took several attempts of speaking to the man to lower his weapon so the situation could be discussed."
Jenna nodded, as she turned off the recorder. "Very well, your sequester is nullified."
I was the last person to leave the conference room, as SIU required me to surrender my uniform to them for evidence purposes. Thankfully, someone had taken the liberty to go to my locker and have some of my clothes delivered.
Once I was back on the main floor, Mike, Sam and Dean walked out of the debriefing room.
"You guys are a bit overdressed for drinks at the bar." I joked, as they were still wearing their uniforms, "Meet you guys there?"
At the bar, I found a large booth. A few minutes after I sat down, Jules came and sat down beside me.
"Where's Sara?" she asked, as she ordered a drink.
"It's her parent's anniversary." I said, "She wanted me to go."
"And instead you're here having drinks?" mom asked, "Real classy."
I gave her a dark look, as Mike, Dean and Sam sat down.
A waitress came over to take their order.
"Two beers?" Mike asked Sam, who agreed, "And a ginger-ale for this guy here." He said, as he messed up Dean's short hair.
"I'm old enough, I'm having a drink." Dean said.
"No, you're not." Mike replied, with a laugh, "He'll have a beer too."
"Where's your dad?" Sam asked Dean.
"He was right behind me." Dean said, as he looked around, "I highly doubt he forgot his way to this place."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Greg Parker asked, as he took a seat next to Jules, "Where Kristina?"
"With the sitter." Jules said, "I wouldn't take my daughter here."
"Does that make me a bad parent?" came a man's voice.
We all turned around, to see Ed come in, carrying his six year old daughter, Isabel, with Clark, his son, behind him.
"Yes, it does." I said, jokingly.
Ed leaned over and grabbed Dean's beer from in front of him, "I better check this for you."
Ed drank a large portion of the drink. "Yeah, it's good."
"Can I have it back?" Dean asked.
"No, get your own." Ed said, jokingly as he slid the drink back over to Dean.
Clark finally found a chair and set it up at the end of the table.
"So Clark, how was work today?" Spike started a conversation.
I tried to keep my mind in the conversation but my mind raced back to the SIU inspection.
Geoffrey Cabe…I shot Geoffrey Cabe.
Suddenly I needed to get up. Everyone let me out. I tried to hide it as much as I could, but I walked as fast as I could to the ladies room.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I am a murderer. I killed Geoffrey Cabe.
I bent down and splashed some water in my face. When I brought myself back up, I saw Ed in the reflection of the mirror.
"Jesus- Ed!" I said, "Privacy!"
"I heard about what happened today." Ed coolly replied, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he stood in the women's washroom, "You ok?"
"I'm fine."
Ed started to walk out. As he got to the door he turned back and said, "No, you're not."
Ed left, leaving me to decipher his cryptic words.
A/N: As you can tell, there's already an interesting psychological story arc here with Megan, and we're only one chapter in.
Please read, favorite and review. Or at least one of those, but at the same time, if you don't favorite or review, I get kinda sad.