Chapter Seven: Double Drop
Lance watched intently from just outside the door as the doctors worked around the three adult Lanes to save the life of the youngest, yet-to-be-born Lane. Uncle Ed was coaching Aunt Sophie through her breathing exercises and doing his best to keep her calm, but Lance kept his eyes trained on the medical equipment. No, he wasn't an expert in reading it, but he'd gotten a crash course during his sister's hospital stay. And it didn't look good; he glanced over his shoulder at Auror Onasi, giving the man a questioning look.
Auror Onasi sighed quietly, moving up so only Lance and Alanna could hear him. "Got a Healer on the way for Ed," he murmured, "But Sophie's too close to that sea-section to risk it."
Both siblings made faces, but they understood. Lance frowned. "Do we need to leave?"
Confusion glinted, then Auror Onasi drew in a sharp breath. "No," he refuted, shaking his head. "I asked for Healer Wesley; she's already met both of you and she's usually pretty level-headed."
Alanna looked back at the frantic activity inside the room, then over her shoulder and around. "Where's Clark?"
Humor flashed in Auror Onasi's eyes. "I gave him a mystery to solve."
Before the Calvins could press him for a better answer, Clark arrived, holding a picture and scowling at both the photo and Auror Onasi.
The slightest smirk quirked Auror Onasi's jaw. "Figure it out yet?"
Clark's scowl turned black and he glared instead of answering.
Colin Potter sniffed up another precious pinch of white powder as the elevator climbed upwards. He juggled his gun and the vial for a moment, tucking the vial in his pocket and out of sight. He sniffed hard, wishing, bitterly, that today's chain of disasters had never happened, that he'd never taken that stupid assignment to Afghanistan, but he had, and everything had gone wrong, and Meg was hurt and still in danger. Well, not any more…it didn't matter anymore…nothing mattered except keeping her safe…
The elevator dinged as it came to a stop and Colin edged out, gun tilted up and ready to go.
The last of Team One's trucks pulled smoothly into the parking garage for Cavelle's building. "Team Three, we're here," Parker announced. "What do you got?"
Donna approached the first four Team One members, informing them, "Drug Squad's undercover across the street. Your guy just entered the building."
"Which office does Cavelle use?" Spike asked.
"It's not an office, it's an executive lounge," Donna replied, "Tenth floor, red wall."
"Okay," Sam decided, "We'll take the stairs."
"We have a tac plan worked up on Cavelle," Donna added as Parker and Jules joined the group. "Drug Squad's gonna watch him from the outside, we're gonna take him down in the lobby."
Lou nudged Spike aside, holding up a phone quite similar to the ones Team Three was slated to get soon. "This the lounge?" he asked, tapping the screen, which automatically zoomed in and enlarged the blueprints.
Donna inspected it a moment. "Yeah."
Lou pulled the phone back and held it flat, tapping another control. Right before Donna's eyes, the blueprints expanded up and a faint blue outline of the room, right down to every last chair inside, appeared in the air above the phone. The impressed constable suppressed a low whistle.
"It's a big room," Spike observed, reaching out and somehow turning the image to get a good look at the lounge. "It's exposed glass."
"We're gonna need to know where he is," Sam growled.
"I got it covered," Spike reassured his acting team leader.
"Wait," Lou murmured, pointing to a spot behind what looked like a bar. "Wasn't on the blueprints I loaded, but that looks like a door."
"Wait, is that more up to date than the blueprints?" Donna demanded; dang, now she really wanted the new phones.
"Can be," Wordy informed her, leaning close to inspect the spot Lou had pointed out. He traced from the door and the hallway it led to, frowning thoughtfully. "Looks like it leads to straight to a staircase; if he makes it out of the lounge, we can pin him on the stairs."
"I'd come up from the lower floor," Spike agreed, manipulating the aerial blueprints to show both floors at the same time. "Cut him off at the pass."
"Those stairs look odd," Jules remarked, tilting her head to the side.
Her colleagues eyed the stairs as did Donna. Finally Sam shrugged. "We can make it work." His eyes turned to Spike. "You've got it?"
"Yep," Spike confirmed.
"Copy that," Sam acknowledged.
As Team One started to draw back, Parker told Donna, "Hey, go careful, Donna."
"Get your man," Donna returned, watching as Team One hurried into the building.
Colin kept his gun under his jacket as he walked towards the lounge, bracing himself for what he was about to do. A sound brought his head around, but when he didn't spot anything, he kept walking towards the door.
Parker briefly took the lead up the stairs, then took up a position to cover his teammates as they raced past him; inside, his gryphon instincts thrummed in anticipation and the Sergeant grimly recognized that suppressing them wasn't doing a lick of good…he could keep trying to ignore them or he could use them to do his job, but he needed to decide now, before they pushed him into doing something he'd regret for the rest of his life.
The silver gun slipped free of his jacket as Colin approached the lounge, panting. He reached out with the key card in his left hand, unlocking the door as he brought his gun up and pushed the door open with his shoulder. No one was inside, so Colin edged all the way in and gently pushed the door shut behind him. Then he paced across the room to the windows, ginning himself up for what came next; what he had to do to protect his beloved Meg.
Sam reached the next landing and took over covering duties as his teammates streamed past him. This was it; everything they'd been through today and it all came down to this. If this was Team One's last call, Sam was utterly determined to make it a good one.
Colin looked around the lounge and wandered, resentment boiling up. A place like this and Cavelle needed more? A place like this and Cavelle felt free to threaten him? Threaten his wife? In his drug-addled mind, Colin thought he heard a sound and he hurried to a massive white support pole, hiding behind it and aiming his gun at the door. Eagerness spiraled through him; eagerness for all of this…to be over and done with…
Jules hit the next landing and immediately twisted to have her weapon ready for action as her teammates jogged past. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Sam and felt a warm thrill; he still wanted her. Everything she'd put him through and he still wanted her. She wouldn't let him down again, no matter what. Even if she lost her spot on Team One, it was worth it…he was worth it.
On the landing just above Jules' location, Sam took over cover duties again as Spike hurried past calling, "Heading into position one floor down." The rest of them continued upwards, to the tenth floor.
After a few seconds, Colin backed away from the protective pillar, feeling his pulse alternate between speeding up and slowing down. He panted hard, resisting the urge to take another pinch; no, he needed to save it, needed to keep it hidden for when the cravings got worse. Instead, he decided to investigate the bar, musing on if alcohol could settle his jangling nerves or if the bar would make a good hiding place.
Wordy extended his mirror to its full length, inspecting the hallway; though his headache still lingered, it had faded enough that it was more of a minor annoyance than anything else. He'd dealt with worse and still done his job, no problem. Lou lingered at his shoulder to provide the backup needed for if the subject managed to slip the net and reach the staircase. At least, that's what Wordy told himself Lou was there for; he had no doubt that Spike and Lou were still keeping an eye on him, a thought that both annoyed and warmed at the same time.
"Clear?" Sarge questioned as Wordy snapped the mirror back and pushed it closed.
"Yeah," Wordy confirmed, watching as his boss led the way past, Sam and Jules at his back; Lou moved past as well, but took up a position on the opposite wall, scanning for any unexpected movement.
"Spike?" Sarge demanded.
"I'm underneath," Spike reported.
From the elevators, Wordy and Lou watched as their boss dropped back, letting Sam and Jules move up on the door leading to the room where their subject was hiding. We got him.
Lance kept one eye on the proceedings inside Aunt Sophie's room and one eye on Clark. "I don't get it," Clark complained quietly, waving the picture in his hand. "What does some little kid have to do with what my Dad's been hiding?"
Some little kid? Lance turned, snagging the photo out of Clark's hand before the older boy could stop him; Auror Onasi winced and pointedly looked away, whistling innocently to himself. As soon as Lance saw the picture, he knew. Confused, he looked up at Auror Onasi. "That's me; why did you give Clark a picture of me?"
Gryphon hearing picked up a steady beat from the medical equipment in Aunt Sophie's room, but his attention stayed focused on a perplexed Clark and an abashed Auror Onasi. Auror Onasi looked the young teen in the eye. "That photo is from the investigation."
"What investigation?" Clark asked eagerly.
Lance looked down at the picture again and let enough of his magic loose to make the image of him start moving; Auror Onasi had frozen the photo before giving it to Clark. "My kidnapping," he replied simply, handing the photo back to Clark. "You wanted to know why you couldn't be told I was still alive? That's why."
Clark took the photo, hissing in shock at the movement in it. But his expression was bewildered. "But this is…you as a little kid? What, were you kidnapped before?"
"No, never," Lance informed Clark and, in his hand, a small globe of golden light materialized. Magic whispered and he turned, laying his hand flat against the window between him and his pseudo aunt and uncle. "You've got all the pieces now, Clark. Everything you need to figure this out."
Spike hefted the pole in his hands, raising the thermal scanner up to the ceiling. Intently, he watched the screen as he moved, looking for the least bit of disturbance. Then the monitor lit up. "I got him," Spike announced. "He's on the move in there." Brown eyes narrowed and Spike's grip tightened on his equipment as he followed the subject's movements. When the subject paused, he called, "Black wall."
"Copy," Sam acknowledged. "Let's take down the door."
Gryphon instincts surfaced and Greg hunched his shoulders, feeling like a predator about to spring. Good, he thought viciously, Let Potter find out what it feels like to stare down the barrel of a gun with no way out. Sam fired twice at the door, shattering the hinges; with a surge of fury and adrenaline, Greg kicked the door down, watching as it flew back and thudded to the ground with grim satisfaction. Jules whipped around the door frame, throwing two grenades into the room.
A quick glance to the side at just the right moment kept Greg from being blinded by the explosions and he reveled in seeing Potter reel back against the bar, knocking several bottles to the ground with a crash of broken glass.
"Police! SRU!" Sam yelled, charging in the door with Jules and Parker right behind him.
"Drop your weapon!" Jules ordered.
"SRU!" Greg roared, frustration rising as the smoke from the grenades obscured his view of the subject.
"SRU!" Sam called, moving to the left to block Potter's escape.
"SRU! Hands in the air!" Jules called, moving right.
Greg caught a quick glimpse of Potter scrambling to his feet and running as Sam's orders rang out. "Drop your weapon and show us your hands!"
"Put your hands in the air! Put your hands in the air now!" Jules yelled, inadvertently blocking her boss as he tried to race past and block the subject's escape. "Drop your weapon!"
The door clicked shut as Greg reached it; his snarl of fury went unheard as Sam reported, "Spike, he went through the back door!"
"I'm on it," Spike called as Greg yanked the door open and threw himself through, intent on his prey.
Spike left his equipment behind as he raced out of the room and hustled for the stairs. They couldn't let him get away, not after what he'd done to Ed.
Wordy and Lou bolted from their positions, racing past the elevators to cut off one of the subject's escape routes. If they could funnel him down the stairs to Spike, it was game over.
Colin took the time to shove the door shut behind him; anything to delay the cops, especially the stocky one with an inhuman rage in his eyes. Even after Afghanistan and everything he'd seen there, never had Colin seen anything that scared him as much as that cop had in the few seconds they'd locked gazes. The former journalist nearly fell as he ran from the door, keeping his gun pointed back at it. As he reached the building's internal staircase, he swept his gun around, looking for more cops, then threw himself downwards, panic fueling his flight.
Molten fury pumped and Greg kept the lead, ignoring his team's usual leap-frog strategy as he raced after Ed's shooter. Behind him, he heard Sam and Jules scrambling to keep up, but he was too enraged to slow. Ahead of him, he could hear the subject panting as he fled, down the stairs and into their trap. Parker let loose a predator's grin as he rounded the staircase and jogged downwards, finally slowing enough that Jules and Sam could catch up.
Spike raced up the glass staircase, his gun at the ready and satisfaction flowing. They had him, they had him. Another few seconds and they'd have Ed's would-be killer in cuffs and on his way to a lifetime in prison.
Colin threw himself down the steps; no, no, no, this wasn't happening. He was supposed to take out Cavelle and make sure Meg was safe, not end up running from a group of cops, at least one of whom was out for blood, preferably his.
He leapt down into an area with no concrete walls, only the staircase's glass between him and open air; his gun was still in his hand, pointed back in an effort to be ready should those cops catch up to him. Then a shout came from ahead of him; he jerked around to see an angry raven-haired cop aiming a submachine gun at him. "Drop your weapon! Do it now!"
Colin backed up, but the three cops from before were right behind him, the demon-eyed cop in the lead; he swore he saw the cop flash fangs at him. "Get back!" Colin shouted, aiming his gun at them; they drew back, into cover. "Don't! Don't! Stay back!"
Wordy and Lou reached a ledge overlooking the inner staircase just as their teammates cornered the subject. The two ducked down, keeping themselves low so the subject wouldn't realize they were above him.
"We've got vantage and concealment," Wordy reported, sneaking a look over the railing to watch the tableau below.
"Wordy, Lou, lay low, hold fire," Sam ordered softly. "Spike, you're Sierra."
"Copy that," Spike acknowledged.
The quiet exchange of orders gave Parker cover to calm down and attempt to get his gryphon instincts under control yet again. This close to his prey – no, darn it, the subject – it was…difficult. Ha! Try impossible, Parker. He leaned his head back, working his jaw and flexing his hands on his gun. "Wordy, you're my eyes," he murmured, fighting with all his might past the desire to rip his prey apart. Louder, he called, "Hey, Colin. Hey, Colin, I'm Greg Parker. I'm with the Police Strategic Response Unit."
He heard his prey whimpering and felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound. Even so, he still kept his voice even and calm. "What do you say we talk, huh?"
"Body language looks like he's gonna jump," Wordy reported from above.
Satisfaction vanished as Parker felt a low, rumbling growl in his chest; no, his prey was not going to escape him now, he was not going to get to commit suicide and deny the Sergeant the pleasure of taking him down.
With his gryphon side finally fully onboard, Greg drew in a steadying breath and called, "I know what happened today. And I know you were trying to…" For a split second, his mind blanked and he fumbled, "…you were trying to do what you thought you had to do, that, uh…" Get it together, Parker. "…that you didn't think you had another choice, that you were worried about Meg. Right?"
Ugh. A first year trainee could've negotiated better than that. Greg's grimace was unfeigned and he scrambled to mentally regroup, hyper-aware of the ever-so-nosy Toth listening to every word he spoke.
But somehow, it still worked; the subject responded, though Parker felt his hands clench as the subject replied, "I did exactly what I had to do. I didn't have a choice."
The Sergeant looked over at Sam, tilting his head. The two edged forward, ever so slightly into the open. "Hey. Col…"
The prey whipped around, aiming his gun and yelling, "Don't!"
"Okay!" Though he seethed, Parker backed off. "Okay, I'm not coming any closer, buddy."
As the two reached cover again, Jules pointed out, "Boss, he's past negotiation."
"Shot a cop and a soldier- I don't think he's seeing the happy ending here," Spike put in.
Lou piped up from above, "Told his wife he didn't care what happens to him anymore; he's been suicidal for a while."
"Boss," Sam hissed, "If we want to stop a suicide, the only way is a double drop."
"Staging area looks good," Wordy reported.
Jules finished the pitch. "We'd have him on the ground before he knew what hit him."
Protectiveness for the rest of his team surged. "Double drop ten floors up?" Greg demanded incredulously. Sure, he wanted his prey, but he didn't want him that bad.
"What's your take on that move?" Dr. Toth inquired of the nearby Commander Holleran, both of them listening to Team One's comm channel.
The commander's frown was closed and grim. "I don't like it," he replied.
"It's risky," Toth allowed, "But it's in the playbook."
"Yes," Holleran agreed, though he didn't look any happier.
"What would you do?"
The response was swift, rote. "Judgment call- it's never black or white."
"Yes," Toth emphasized, impatient with the evasion. "But what would you do?"
"I wouldn't risk my team."
Toth considered that, a new concern surfacing. Looking away, he murmured, "Unless you had something to prove."
"Boss, I'm not seeing another option," Sam remarked, watching his Sergeant with a faint trace of worry.
The gryphon instincts that had only half a minute ago howled for Potter's blood were now utterly silent, even loather than Greg to do what he was considering. "So I got to risk my team to save the guy who shot my TL seven times?" Parker couldn't help but ask.
Jules and Sam looked just as unhappy once their boss had laid it out like that. "It's your call, Boss," Jules murmured.
He couldn't do it, couldn't risk his team to save a man like that. Parker opened his mouth to give the order to pull back, then he heard his prey whimper, "I'm so sorry."
Glancing over, Greg saw the man by the edge of the stairs, staring straight down; he was talking to his wife, not them. "Please, please don't let them hurt him." Yes, it had been Jules who'd promised, but Jules was part of his team; in a way, he'd promised, too.
How many times had he and his team been on that edge, only to be saved by the unlikely, the improbable, the impossible? Maybe it was their turn to be someone else's impossible solution. And if he walked away now, could he live with his decision? With a rough swallow, Greg decided. "Okay, Sam, let's do it."
He watched Potter as his team headed back up the stairs. This had better work; I can't lose anyone else…