Sorry for the delay – computer problems! Thanks for all the kind reviews and for your continued patience!
Staying low Steve edged his way to the back door of the cafeteria, his mind working over time. First a bombing and now a shooting and he was there on both occasions. Either he was really unlucky in his choice of eating establishments or someone was out to get his attention. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been targeted, but it never got any easer to deal with.
From where he was, he could see the main entrance to the hospital car park. Across the sidewalk from his current position, its eight storeys rose high into the night sky. The building was silhouetted by the pale silver light of the moon. A full moon he noticed. The parking lot had to be where the shots were fired from, there was no where else.
Holding his gun out in front of him, Steve squinted through the rain for any signs of danger. Nothing. The sidewalk was deserted, the shooting mere moments before could have been a figment of his imagination. But he knew that it wasn't.
It was still raining hard and the biting wind tugged at his hair. Stepping out further onto the street, he paused to catch his breath. Dog-eared posters advertising the hospital Christmas party fluttered eerily in the breeze. He was already soaked through and with the strength of the wind, it was a battle to maintain his footing, but at least he knew where he was headed.
Grimacing Steve pressed a hand to his throbbing side, knowing that if he'd guessed right the killer could be watching him even now. Painstakingly placing one foot in front of the other, he stepped forward cautiously, eyes scanning the surrounding terrain. In the darkness and driving rain, visibility was at a minimum. He felt vulnerable, exposed. Unaccountably a shiver went down his spine. If only Ron were here for back up, but he'd left the FBI agent back at Parker Centre still flipping through case files. At best, his father would have gotten through to the station by now and Ron would be on his way, but it wasn't soon enough.
The usually familiar setting of the hospital back lot was menacing in the half-light, strange shapes looming out of the shadows, each one a potential gunman ready to take him down. He could hear his own heart pounding inside his head, could feel his breath coming in ragged bursts.
Was that a movement to his left? He spun, but could see nothing. His mind was playing tricks. He moved on, taking more tentative steps away from the door and all the while he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. It was barely 100 yards from the back of the hospital cafeteria to the main door of the multi-storey, but unsighted and with little cover, he'd be a sitting duck if the shooter was still in there.
He swallowed hard, running a hand across a suddenly sweating brow. Since when did it get so damn hot? Feeling suddenly way too exposed, he dropped into a low crouch; muscles tensed and ready for action. There were some trashcans almst half way across the street. If he timed his roll right, he could use the trashcans for cover and be that much closer to his target.
Closing his eyes he took a couple of deep breaths 'Okay' he told himself 'on the count of three. One, two …' As he reached three, he pushed off hard, propelling himself into a sideways roll, exactly as he'd been taught all those years ago at the academy. The puddles of the sidewalk soaked his already sodden clothes and the movement tore at his injured side, but he ignored the discomfort, his entire being focused purely on survival. Coming swiftly to his feet, he held his gun out in front of his body. Damn it, he was still at least 5 yards from the safety of the garbage containers. Too far!
Almost immediately bullets peppered the ground at his feet. Steve flung himself desperately for the trashcans, crashing unceremoniously into the metal containers. Staying low, he looked up at his target. He was bruised, battered, dripping rain and liberally doused in distinctly pungent debris, but he was alive and now he had a bead on the shooter. The killer was still there and now finally he had a chance to catch him. Steve did the calculations rapidly – 1 bullet in the restaurant, another 5 on the sidewalk. By any rights the guy would have to reload right about now. This was his chance.
With the trashcans forgotten and barely a moment to catch his breath, he was moving again, feet pounding the sidewalk, frantically eating up the distance that would take him to safety. And then he was there; he'd made it. Exhausted, he collapsed against the sidewall of the parking lot, chest heaving, legs shaking. He now had a bruised hip to add to his injured side, but it sure beat a bullet in the head.
Having only just shaken off a heavy cold and still nursing the injuries he'd sustained in the fall out from the bombing last week, he wasn't exactly in the best condition to single-handedly take down a professional hit man. Resolutely pushing that negative thought from his mind, Steve weighed up his options. Police training combined with a tour in Nam had stood him in good stead. He knew exactly what he was looking for; it was simply a question of finding it.
Quickly his eyes scanned the building and then there it was, glinting in the moonlight – an outside fire escape that scaled the outer wall. Twisting and turning, it crept up the infrastructure like ivy. It was exactly what he wanted. Tucking his gun into his belt, he crept towards the bottom rung of the wrought iron ladder. With one more glance in the last known direction of the shooter, he reached for the stairway and painfully heaved himself up.
Back inside the cafeteria, Mark and Amanda had their hands full dealing with hysterical patrons. As such, they'd heard rather than seen the burst of fire aimed out into the main street. Amanda had spun round, her face a mask of horror. Mark was quicker. Diving for the door, all else forgotten, he had witnessed Steve's desperate lunge for safety behind the trashcans. A second later he'd watched his son sprint for the wall. With no gun to provide back up, Mark was left a helpless spectator, holding his breath as Steve made his suicidal sprint across the alley. Once he'd made it Mark breathed again.
That was close, he thought, too damn close. Where the hell was the back up? Mark cursed inwardly. Every second Steve was out there he was risking his life. Every nerve jangled and he itched to help, but right now there was nothing he could do. Keeping his eyes trained on Steve's last known location, Mark suddenly spotted him. He was heading for the outside fire escape. His insides twisted with fear – Steve was really doing it, he was going for the shooter, alone.
Tanis Archer jumped from her car, leaving the door open in her haste to get out. The rain soaked through her thin jacket and the icy wind bit at her face, but she didn't notice or care. The area surrounding 'Barbeque Bob's' was swarming with cops, as Tans pushed and shoved her way through the crowd. There were even TV cameras present, with white-toothed presenters filling LA citizens in on the latest gory details of life in the big city.
Police colleagues called out to Tanis in recognition and whilst one officer began filling her in on what had happened, another was already asking her for instructions. Tanis brushed them all aside; there was only one cop she was interested in talking to right now. Ahead of her she saw Turner and McBride, both with notebooks out, standing next to the paramedics. And then as they shifted slightly, allowing her a better view, she stopped dead, her spine turned to ice.
Through the driving rain, she saw a stretcher being loaded onto a waiting ambulance. The body on the stretcher was partially blocked from her view, but even with her limited medical knowledge, she could tell that the man's condition was serious. Paramedics were working feverishly, shouting instructions to each other, attaching drips and holding an oxygen mask across the man's face. As one of the paramedics leant forward; Tanis caught a glimpse of dirty blonde hair. Her blood ran cold.
'Oh my God, Steve' she said, breaking into a run.
Pushing her way through the crowds, she broke through the ranks of paramedics and elbowed her way to the stretcher
'Steve!' she cried.
But the man on the stretcher wasn't Steve Sloan; she knew that because the man on the stretcher was smaller, thinner. His face, obscured by the oxygen mask was blackened, his hair singed. There was a bandage along his hairline that was already seeping blood and his eyes were closed.
'It 'aint him Archer' McBride said gruffly.
'Jesse?' Tanis said uncertainly, her voice a mere whisper, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. He looked so still, so unlike his usual vibrant self. It was as if he was a wax model, some sort of macabre effigy, rather than the man himself. Reaching out a tentative hand, she lightly touched his shoulder, terrified of causing him any more pain.
'He's unconscious', the paramedic closest to her said 'and I hope for his sake that he stays that way for awhile'.
'Is he gonna be okay?' Tanis asked, her voice shaky.
The paramedic shrugged 'He's a fighter, I can tell you that. We're taking him to the hospital right now – they should have a better idea of his prognosis.'
Tanis nodded; then taking a deep breath, she asked the question she was terrified to ask 'Any other casualties?'
The paramedic nodded 'Afraid so. They'd closed up for the night, so there was just the two of them here. I guess it could have been a lot worse'. He looked at Tanis, his face solemn 'but the other one didn't make it, dead at the scene'.
Tanis felt all the blood drain from her body. She reached forward blindly, grabbing the gurney for support
'Steve, no!' she said, tears streaming down her face.
The paramedic looked at her in confusion. He'd never been a big fan of letting women on the force and this one seemed particularly unstable – girl looked like she might pass out. Grabbing hold of her shoulders, he forced Tanis to focus on his face.
'Look sweetheart' he said, 'I don't know who this Steve guy is that you keep talking about, but the other casualty was a young female, we're guessing either a waitress or a customer'. His eyes softened 'we're having trouble getting any kind of ID, as the body was pretty badly burned'. He shuddered 'Poor kid, it's a horrible way to go'.
'So Steve wasn't here?' Tanis said, her mind struggling to keep up.
'Looks like it was just the two of them' Turner interrupted 'Travis and the girl'. He looked at Tanis edgily; she looked pretty close to losing it 'Chill out Archer, okay your boyfriend wasn't here'.
She didn't respond. Her eyes glazed, she was obviously in shock. Turner looked helplessly at his partner, urging him to try and get a response from the white-faced detective. McBride shrugged and let out a breath
'Come on Archer' he said stiffly 'there's no need to get in a state, Sloan's okay'. Still nothing. He tried again 'Come on sweetheart, why the drama? I thought ya dumped the guy last week.'
You unfeeling bastard' Tanis hissed at him, her eyes flashing angrily, her hand raised to slap him.
'Hey break it up would ya?' the paramedic intervened 'Jesus, you damned cops, crazy the lot of ya'.
Tans was still staring angrily at McBride, her breath coming in big gulps, but the paramedic's voice broke through her anger 'We've gotta get this one to the hospital, so if you could move out now please Miss'.
Tanis stepped aside. Her heart was still racing, riding the roller coaster of emotions of the past couple of minutes. She had to see Steve, to reassure herself that he really was okay. Shoving away from Turner and McBride, she ran to catch up to the ambulance.
Watching her go, Turner slapped his partner on the back, shaking his head 'You sure have a way with women' he said wryly.
McBride shrugged 'Worked didn't it?'
Turner grinned 'Well it sure got a reaction'
McBride smiled 'Looks like things aren't as over between those two as we thought.
Turner nodded 'Ya know what, I think you could be right. Makes life kinda interesting don't it?
'Sure does'
They grinned at each other and then slowly headed back towards the restaurant to check in with forensics. It was gonna be another long night.
Catching up to the paramedic, Tanis tapped the man on the shoulder 'Are you taking him to Community General?' she asked, knowing at once that wherever Steve was right now, once he heard what had happened, his first move would be to go to Jesse.
The paramedic turned 'We were' he said 'but there's been a change of plan. We just got told that Community General is closed to trauma'.
'What?' Tanis said in surprise 'Why? What's happened?'
The paramedic shrugged 'Would you believe a shooting? They've got some crazy gunman on the loose and a lone cop in pursuit'.
Tanis' eyes widened in horror – she had a terrible feeling she'd just found out where Steve was.
TO BE CONTINUED ………….