Chapter Five: The Real Loser
Ed kept his eyes on the screen, watching as Cory kept going along a path that he would regret for the rest of his life. Lou and Spike worked as quickly as they could, setting up the shape charge on the door. The helpful janitor had been shooed away; this was an SRU matter now. Ed's eyes narrowed as Cory and Wellstead ended up struggling, quite conveniently, away from the door. "Subjects are in the southwest corner, out of line with the door," Ed announced.
"That's good," Spike replied, " 'Cause it's gonna be a big bang, and it's blowing inward." The three officers crouched away from the door, shielding their hearing as Spike hefted the detonator. "Breaching in three, two, one."
The door blew inward with a muffled roar, followed by three SRU officers who drew their sidearms as they entered the tiny room, only to be confronted with Cory, who'd gotten his coach in a headlock with his left arm and held a lighted blowtorch in his right.
"Cory, right there, drop it!" Spike yelled.
"Drop it!" Lou snapped, picking up as Spike finished.
"Put it down! Right there!" Ed ordered.
Despite his position, Wellstead tried to take over. "Do what he says, Cory."
"Sir, let me do the talking," Ed growled. "Cory, listen to me. I have to consider that blowtorch a deadly weapon. That means if you show imminent threat to use it, I have to shoot here, son."
In a splendid show of trying to keep everyone alive, Wellstead protested, "Isn't this imminent?"
"Sir, please be quiet and do not struggle!" Spike called loudly.
"Cory, I don't want to shoot you here," Ed told the young man, "All right? I don't. So lower the weapon. You don't have to put it down, but just move it away from his face and we can talk, okay?"
It took a second, but Cory slowly lowered the blowtorch, though, naturally, he didn't let go of the weapon.
"That's it," Ed coaxed.
With a red face, sweat pouring down, and tears mixing with the sweat, Cory cried, "This here…this is all it boils down to for me."
"No, it isn't, Cory. No, it isn't," Ed countered, his eyes intense.
"I saw red! I went off on my friend!" Cory yelled.
"You know what Carlton told me?" Ed questioned. Without waiting for a reply, he continued, " 'Not Cory's fault.' Those were his exact words, son. But you know what? There is fault here. And I promise you we are gonna make sure that it comes out. And that's what you want, Cory. Justice. That's what you want."
In another brilliant show of cooperative spirit, Wellstead sneered. "Justice? I don't have to face justice."
"Sir, please be quiet," Lou ordered.
"No, I'm not gonna be quiet," Wellstead snarled. "My record speaks for itself, all right?"
"Sir!" Ed yelled, trying to keep the situation from going off the rails…too late.
The blowtorch came up again as Cory demanded, "You don't care if Carlton lives or dies?"
"Cory, don't, don't!" Ed warned, bringing his sidearm up and on target. No, he didn't want to do this, but he couldn't let Cory hurt the louse.
"Shoot him!" came the shrill, selfish demand.
"Sir, you pull yourself together," Ed countered, his voice frigid. "Cory, this is not what I want to do."
"Please…please," the pathetic man sniveled.
Greg and Sam hovered around the teenager as they coaxed him down the steps, one by one. The boy was shaking and panting as the aftermath of his experience kicked in. Greg, for one, was thanking his lucky stars that he was inside and not on the blasted roof anymore. He was shaking too, if for largely different reasons. Digging deep, Greg kept his voice even, "It's all right. Hey, hey. You're doing fine, Carlton. Have a seat."
"I'm shaking," Carlton replied.
"That's because your heart's racing. Just sit down. Sit down." Bit by bit, he and Sam got the teen down on the step.
"So is mine, pal," Sam told the teenager. "We're all good, okay? You showed a lot of strength."
"You just keep breathing. You have some water. We're in no hurry," Parker soothed, taking a bottle of water from his bag and giving it to Carlton.
"Boss," Sam hissed, jerking his head to the side.
Leaning over, Greg told Carlton, "We'll be right back, son. You hold tight." Then Greg followed his sniper to the side, the two of them turning so Carlton couldn't see them talking.
"I know, way outside the box, but what if we tell him what Cory's doing?" Sam whispered.
Greg's first response was, "Ah, that's too risky."
Sam persisted. "I know, but we have two critical incidents. Maybe one can help the other. Carlton's a team player. His teammate needs him."
"It could work, boss," Wordy put in over the comm, "Get him proactive, helping his friend."
"I think that's a good idea down here," Spike offered.
Two voices overlapped, Ed and Lou. "Agreed."
Greg considered, his 'team sense' alive with his team ready to back their boss, no matter what. "Okay, he's gone through a lot today, but he may be the only one who can reach his friend. All right. Let's do it."
The two officers headed back to the young man, Greg settling in next to Carlton and Sam hovering, but silent.
"Carlton," Greg started, drawing the young teen's attention at once, "I need to tell you something, and I need you to be strong. It's about Cory."
"Where is he? Is he okay?" Carlton asked anxiously, lowering his water bottle.
"He's fine," Greg soothed at once. "He's just in the middle of doing something that he's going to regret." So saying Greg offered the young man his phone, already tapped into the feed from the still set up camera in the vent of the boiler room. As Carlton stared at the stand-off, Greg continued, "The police, the school- everybody knows the truth. But Cory thinks he's doing that for you. That's revenge for ripping apart your friendship and pushing you out on that roof."
"Well, you have to stop him," Carlton cried.
"Will you help us do that?" Greg watched as Carlton's shoulders straightened, the young man managing, in that moment, to remind him of Spike, saving Sam regardless of the risks and the danger.
"Cory, Carlton's okay. He came down, he's fine. I promise you that." Ed knew, from the look on Cory's face, that Cory didn't believe him, but he had to keep trying. He had no desire to shoot the young man in defense of that utter louse of a basketball coach.
"You're just saying that!" Cory yelled.
Shaking his head, Ed replied, "No, I'm not, Cory. He's okay. He's here. He's gonna come in and talk to you."
"Coming in, Eddie," Sarge called. Ed couldn't look away from Cory, but, as Parker entered and came to a stop by Ed, he saw Carlton, with his hand on Greg's shoulder and clad in a bullet-proof vest.
"It's okay," Ed told Cory, shifting to make room for his boss and Carlton.
When the pair had stopped and Carlton looked up, Cory recognized his friend. Stammering, he pleaded, "C-Carlton. I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't want you…"
"I know, I know," Carlton told his friend, shaking his head a little.
"Coach…" Cory kept pleading.
"I know," Carlton overrode his friend, finally getting him to stop and listen. "Don't worry about it. Cory, put the blowtorch down. Do it for me."
Shifting, embarrassed, Cory observed, "So much for the season."
"No," Carlton countered, shaking his head again. "Man…plenty more games."
Ed stepped in. "Cory, you don't want to be like him. You don't want to do what he does, so just let him go."
"The coach is the loser here," Carlton told his best friend. "Seriously. He's done. We're not."
Cory considered his friend and his friend's words. Then, slowly, the blowtorch lowered and Cory let Wellstead go.
Greg guided Carlton out of the school and watched as the young man hurried to his mother and sister. He smiled at the reunion, then watched as Spike pulled Cory past and to a patrol car. Wellstead was taken to the ambulance; he would be treated, then arrested. Greg didn't look up as Eddie joined him, the team leader settling in next to his boss.
"You okay?" Eddie asked, not looking at his boss.
"I will be," Greg replied, glancing over at his friend.
Ed nodded slowly. Then, out of the blue, he questioned, "Why are you so much worse with heights now?"
Greg cringed, his only surprise that it had taken so long for any of his team to ask him. After all, the worsened fear of heights predated even his 'team sense'. But… "Not today, Ed," he stalled.
It took a minute for Ed to respond. "Okay, Greg." The two men looked at each other. "You got through today no problem, so I can wait. But we both know, heights are gonna come up again."
"Yes, we do," Greg acknowledged. "I don't think talking about it is going to help, though, Ed."
Ed's eyebrow arched at the statement, but his boss did not elaborate.
"I think I'm just going to have to live with this," Greg admitted quietly. "But I'll tell you one thing, Ed; it was worth it and I'd do it again if I had to."
The team leader looked back at the aftermath of the day's call. He had an inkling of when his boss's fear of heights had gotten so much worse, but he wouldn't ask. Not today anyway. Even if heights came up again, the team and their Sergeant could handle it…together.
~ Fin