Disclaimer: See part 1.

A/N - Heads up, people. Some violence implied and briefly described. Just in case it triggers something, OK?

After Paris

By Gun Brooke

Part 2

"Please. Let us get this child over to the paramedics," Andy pleaded with the man holding the knife. He was tall, pale, with thin, black hair reaching to his shoulders. Dressed in what looked like a tattered uniform of sorts, he loomed over them. The whites of his eyes were red, and he kept chewing on something, and for a startling moment, Andy got the impression he was biting the inside of his mouth.

"I want to go," Beth whimpered. "Please. Please."

"Shut the kid up." The man's voice was low and rough, like gravel being crushed together. "Either that, or I'll make good use of this." He waved the knife at them."

Yamal coughed and stirred. Blood was still oozing slowly from his wound. "What…?" the boy murmured and then seemed to slip back into unconsciousness.

"Can't you see? He can die; he will die if we don't get him over there." Andy was ready to launch at the lunatic with the knife, but harnessed her rage. "Please. This is Yamal. He is ten years old, right, Beth? And this is Beth. They're friends."

"I don't give a fuck."

"I think you do. Why did you do this to Yamal? To the kids over there? And a teacher?"

"None of your fucking business."

Beth clung to Andy's right side, as she leaned over Yamal, protecting him with her body while she pressed down on his wound.

"I suppose not," Andy conceded, "but you're threatening us, and for no apparent reason. The police have the place surrounded. Let's end this before it's too late."

"It's already too late. Too late for me, and I'll make sure they know what I think of them and their crimes." The man made no sense. Crimes? Against him?

"How about I go with you? The paramedics can come to get Yamal and Beth if you and I move away." Andy looked down at Beth who stayed as glued to her side. "You can hold on to Yamal until they get here, can't you?"

"No. No. Please." The child trembled. "You can't go with him."

"If I don't, Yamal won't make it."

"All right. I need to get away from her wailing, anyway." The man's free hand shot down and grabbed Andy's ponytail. Pulling her with him, obviously keeping her between him and the police, he yanked painfully at her hair.

"Ow. Wait, wait. I have to show Beth…"

"I've got it. I've got it!" Beth cried, large tears flooding her cheeks as she pressed against Yamal. "Come back. Don't go. I don't even know your name!"

"Andy Sachs," Andy called out as the man forced her in behind the swing set and some bushes. Turning to the man, she shuddered at the hatred in his eyes. Hatred and something else, something desolate. "Let me call the paramedics over for Yamal." She held up her cell phone.

The man hesitated, and then nodded. "Sure, just be sure to tell them if I see them coming over here…that'll be the last thing you do."

"All right."

"Sit there." He pushed her down on the ground in front of him. Running the knife along Andy's neck, as if for emphasis, he laughed, a terrible hissing, unhappy sound. "Make the call."

Andy dialed the latest number she'd used, to Pam. The photographer picked up instantly.

"God, Andy, where are you?"

"I'm here. I'm okay. Send paramedics over to the swing set. A boy is seriously wounded, and a girl is pressing against his wound. He's dying, Pam."

"Got'cha. Stay on the phone, Andy. Please." Pam's voice came in bursts as if she was running. Andy could hear her relay the information and other voice calling out orders in the background. Then Pam was back on the phone. "Are you sure you're okay? Is he there?"

"He is."

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Hand over the phone, ma'am," a male voice interrupted. "This is Lieutenant Troy Bradford. Who is this?"

"I'm Andy Sachs. Reporter for the New York Mirror."

"And you're in the schoolyard?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. Are you getting help for Yamal? He's hemorrhaging badly. There's a little girl with him…" Andy sobbed. The knife at her neck pressed harder. "I think I need to hang up."

"No," the man behind her hissed. "Keep the police on the line. They should hear what I do to you, in case they don't abide by the rules."

"I heard that," Lt. Bradley said. "Have you seen any other weapons on him than the knife?"

"No."

"Can you judge if he's intoxicated in any way?"

"Doesn't seem to be."

"How is your situation right now?"

"Knife against my neck. Pretty scary." Andy winced as her words made the man press up harder against her. For some reason, that made her feel worse than the presence of the knife against her neck.

"I hear you, Ms. Sachs."

"Andy."

"Very well. Andy."

"Yamal and Beth need—"

"Paramedics are closing in together with part of the task force." Lt. Bradley spoke quietly. "How far are you from their position?"

"Twenty-five yards, maybe."

"I need to talk to this man now, Andy."

Andy relayed this to the man behind her.

"No. I don't talk to cops. I don't talk to councilors. All I want is to leave now and you're my ticket out of here. You can tell them that."

"I heard," Lt. Bradley confirmed solemnly. "I'm going to hand the phone back to your friend. Stay on the line. How's your battery?"

"Freshly charged." Andy clung to her cell phone. Would they allow this maniac to leave with her in tow? "T-take good care of Yamal and Beth. They're just kids."

"Will do. Here's your friend."

"Oh, God, Andy," Pam said. "You're going to be fine. They'll get you out of there. Can he hear me?"

"Don't think so." Andy took a deep, long breath. "News desk send anyone else in?"

"Boss is coming himself."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Quite the commotion here." Pam quieted and seemed to move, judging from the noise. "Hey, they got the kids. The swat team is in position, from what it looks like. Bradley is keeping me here, so I can't talk to anyone else. Damn it, Sachs, you got yourself into a bind, didn't you?" Pam's teeth actually clattered enough for Andy to hear it.

"Get someone to bring you a blanket," Andy said. "Don't you dare let go of the phone."

"I won't."

God, I wish I was home in bed. Andy tried to get a little more comfortable, but as soon as she moved, the knife pushed harder against her skin. She expected to feel blood trickling along her neck at any second. "J-just remember. I'm your best bargaining chip here."

"Shut up. You're nothing. You're handy right now, but I'll slice you right up if you don't do as I say. He pressed his face into her hair. Andy thought she was going to be sick when bile rose in her throat. "For now, it serves my purpose for you to chat with your buddy over there."

Miranda disconnected the short conversation she'd had with New York's district attorney. He'd eventually seen things her way.

"Nigel," Miranda lengthened her stride. "When we get there, you will find Lt. Troy Bradley, who's in charge at the scene. The DA will have sent him a message by now."

"Certainly, Miranda." Nigel didn't sound surprised.

"Now to the call I never wanted to make in the first place, heaven help me." Miranda browsed the address book that Emily updated on a daily basis. Virginia and Richard Sachs, Cincinnati. That was it.

"Sachs residence," a pleasant female voice said.

"Mrs. Sachs? This is Miranda Priestly."

"Miran—? Excuse me? Did you say Miranda Priestly?" The woman sounded perplexed. "I'm Ginny Sachs. Why are you calling me?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sachs. I don't know if you've caught any of the current drama that's ongoing at one of the schools here in New York."

"No? I haven't had the TV on yet today. What…a school you say? Oh, God, a shooting? Why are you calling me about that?" Panic entered Ginny Sach's voice. "Mrs. Priestly?"

"Call me Miranda. Please. As it turns out, your daughter Andrea is at the scene and directly involved." Miranda closed her eyes. She was a mother herself, and could imagine the dread the other woman was feeling. Being far away and not able to do anything immediately of course made it worse.

"Oh, God. Oh, dear Lord." Ginny moaned. "Is she hurt? What happened?"

"She was sent to report the case for the Mirror," Miranda said and crossed the street in long strides. Nigel was right next to her, probably making sure no car hit them as she was not about to slow down. "For some reason, she ended up inside the perimeter set up by the police, and the perpetrator…seems to be in control of the situation in there."

"I…I…Are you there? Can you tell me anything else? Why are you the one calling me?"

"Because I don't think the police have made a positive ID of the people inside the schoolyard yet. I found out through other channels and I'm only one block away now. I promise you I will keep you apprised of Andrea's situation, Mrs. Sachs."

"You sound…I mean, Andy worked for you some time ago, and you sound…involved?" Ginny was clearly confused and there were tears lacing her vocal cords. "M-Miranda? Is Andy of some importance to you?"

Miranda knew she had to reassure Andrea's mother, or the woman might just hyperventilate enough into a fainting spell. "Yes. Andrea is important to me. I will not leave the scene until she's safe and out of danger. You have my word."

"Oh, God, thank you. I know Andy grew to care for you before she left. I'm so glad she told you and that you're there for her now. She was miserable for so long."

This information nearly made Miranda stumble on her four inch heels. Filing the information away from later, her heart contracting painfully as she did so, she merely promised to call back within minutes. In the meantime, Ginny was going to call her husband, Richard, and tell him the news and to come home.

"Here we are. There's the school." Nigel pointed at the long line of police cars and the ambulances. Several of the paramedics were working on small forms still lying on the ground in the schoolyard.

"Nigel. Who the hell can do something like this?"

"I can't even begin to imagine," Nigel said, going pale. "How many did he stab? They said it was a man with a long knife."

"Locate Lt. Bradley."

"Okay. I'll be right back, Miranda." Nigel hurried along the large crowd consisting of worried parents, onlookers, and press. Miranda stood among them, her eyes scanning the area. Inside, she prayed she'd spot the young woman who once worked for her. She would give anything to see her brilliant smile and emotion-filled brown eyes again. Seeing the casualties, children, for heaven's sake, she found herself begin to tremble.

Continued in part 3/?