From the doors of the police station, Jordan watched the snipers position themselves and heard the police move in. She didn't like the odds. Since the young man had run from the store, no more had been heard from the captors. They were not replying.
"Please drop your weapons and exit the store," a loud, firm voice said over a bull horn. "If you come out now, no one will get hurt."
A gun shot rang out and the glass door of the store shattered. The door opened and the two captors appeared, one with the woman and the other with Woody.
"No, no, no, it's not supposed to happen this way," Jordan said to her father.
Outside, Woody could hear the snipers' weapons click. They had taken aim. He could see the outline of some of them against the cold, Boston sky. He needed to try to position himself in front of the woman and her captor. That way he could avert the fire away from an innocent civilian. He began to struggle with the man, deliberately pulling himself in the line of fire.
Jordan could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Before anyone could stop her, she was out the door and running towards the scene, only to be pulled back down behind a squad car.
Then suddenly, it was over. Another shot echoed. The man holding Woody dropped. A single bullet. To the throat. Woody made a mental note to find out who fired the gun and buy that person a round of drinks.
The man holding the woman abruptly pushed her to the sidewalk and tried to run. Another shot rang out.
And the deed was done. The hostage situation was over. A significant afternoon for the Boston Police Department.
The police began to clear the area and Jordan could see Nigel and Garrett move in to remove the bodies of the robbers. She slowly rose from behind the squad car and tried to make her way over to Woody. He was surrounded by officers and paramedics. Slowly, she walked over to the front of the store.
The crowd around Woody parted for her to get through. For a few moments they just stood there, looking at each other. Woody saw Jordan sag from the weight of the day and the worry over the situation. Immediately, his arms were around her and she nestled close to his neck. "It's okay, Jo, it's over, it's over," he repeated. He was not quite sure if he was saying it more for him than her.
And it was over. Except for a few bruises around his wrist where he was tied up too tightly, and a few kinks in his back from sitting on the cold, hard floor all night, it was over.
"Hey, next time you need ibuprofen, how about asking Nigel or Garrett if they have some?" he said, trying to joke with her a little, to get her out of the frightened state she still hovered in.
Pulling away from him, to look into those blue eyes she had missed so much, she simply nodded. He hugged her back tightly to him and kissed the top of her head. The joke seemed to work, for he felt the tension leave her body. A small thing. A joke. An insignificant thing, in the great scheme of life. But then again, it's the little things that can have the most significance.
"Please drop your weapons and exit the store," a loud, firm voice said over a bull horn. "If you come out now, no one will get hurt."
A gun shot rang out and the glass door of the store shattered. The door opened and the two captors appeared, one with the woman and the other with Woody.
"No, no, no, it's not supposed to happen this way," Jordan said to her father.
Outside, Woody could hear the snipers' weapons click. They had taken aim. He could see the outline of some of them against the cold, Boston sky. He needed to try to position himself in front of the woman and her captor. That way he could avert the fire away from an innocent civilian. He began to struggle with the man, deliberately pulling himself in the line of fire.
Jordan could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Before anyone could stop her, she was out the door and running towards the scene, only to be pulled back down behind a squad car.
Then suddenly, it was over. Another shot echoed. The man holding Woody dropped. A single bullet. To the throat. Woody made a mental note to find out who fired the gun and buy that person a round of drinks.
The man holding the woman abruptly pushed her to the sidewalk and tried to run. Another shot rang out.
And the deed was done. The hostage situation was over. A significant afternoon for the Boston Police Department.
The police began to clear the area and Jordan could see Nigel and Garrett move in to remove the bodies of the robbers. She slowly rose from behind the squad car and tried to make her way over to Woody. He was surrounded by officers and paramedics. Slowly, she walked over to the front of the store.
The crowd around Woody parted for her to get through. For a few moments they just stood there, looking at each other. Woody saw Jordan sag from the weight of the day and the worry over the situation. Immediately, his arms were around her and she nestled close to his neck. "It's okay, Jo, it's over, it's over," he repeated. He was not quite sure if he was saying it more for him than her.
And it was over. Except for a few bruises around his wrist where he was tied up too tightly, and a few kinks in his back from sitting on the cold, hard floor all night, it was over.
"Hey, next time you need ibuprofen, how about asking Nigel or Garrett if they have some?" he said, trying to joke with her a little, to get her out of the frightened state she still hovered in.
Pulling away from him, to look into those blue eyes she had missed so much, she simply nodded. He hugged her back tightly to him and kissed the top of her head. The joke seemed to work, for he felt the tension leave her body. A small thing. A joke. An insignificant thing, in the great scheme of life. But then again, it's the little things that can have the most significance.
