Chapter Four: Just Who Are You?
Greg stepped up into the Command Truck, his 'team sense' humming away in the background. In the year since he'd first 'acquired' the 'team sense', his control over it had improved a thousand-fold. These days, he kept the 'team sense' off when off-duty and on when on-duty with no issues whatsoever. "Spike?" he questioned, his eyes swinging to his tech and one brow hiking in silent question.
"No eyes yet, but this should help," Spike replied, glancing up and then back at his screen. "The guard said certain areas of the building were closed off for the party. I can confirm none of these locks have been breached."
"That's good. Narrows our search by half." Switching gears briefly, Greg informed his team leader, "Eddie, the west side of the building is clear. Just keep heading north."
The group shifted from being bunched up to spread out, Ed in front, as they reached the dark exhibit gallery. The two Aurors were in the middle of the line, wands up and glowing a little in the darkness. Sam and Jules were right behind Ed while Lou and Wordy brought up the rear. The group entered the maze of glass exhibit displays, the light from their gun-mounted flashlights glinting off the pots and decorative plates on display. The Aurors glanced around, curious about the tech museum even as they kept an eye out for the shooter…or any civilians.
Onasi started to move his wand in a detection spell when Sam hissed, "Three o'clock."
Ed advanced to the end of the next display and turned sharply on his heel, yelling, "Drop the weapon! Hands up now!"
"Police!" Sam roared, his own weapon aimed.
The civilians cringed as they stood, hands high in the air and their fear evident in the light of the flashlights. Onasi and Simmons traded looks, surprised by the harsh orders and aimed weapons. "Let's go! Let's go!" Ed ordered.
"Don't shoot!" one of the women cried.
"Slowly!" came the bark from the team leader.
The foremost man, with dark, bushy short hair, and in a nice tux, kept his hands in the air and announced, "We don't have any weapons, okay? There are no guns. Jim and I work for Brenton. These are our wives."
The guns came down as Ed asked, "Anybody see the shooter?"
"No," the group's speaker replied. "We were at the bar. We heard some shots. And then we just ran. We wanted to get out of there."
As he spoke, Sam checked the group for any hidden weapons; the Aurors hovered in the background, hoping that the group wouldn't remember them later on. "What do we got? What do we got?" Ed questioned the sniper.
"They're clean," Braddock reported.
"All right, let's go," Jules urged the civilians.
The civilians fell in step with Team One and the Aurors as they moved on. One of the women pointed up at the stairs and said, "He ran up those stairs."
"You saw him?" Ed inquired, looking back at her briefly.
"I heard him," the woman explained, "Everyone else was running. He was the only one walking."
As they reached the stairs, Jules told the civilians, "Just wait here for a police officer."
As she did so, Ed called in their progress. "Spike, Asian Gallery's secure. We have four people coming out and they need an escort."
"Copy that," Spike acknowledged.
In the museum, the officers and Aurors headed up the stairs; Onasi and Simmons traded nervous looks as they went deeper into tech territory. At the top of the stairs, the group bunched up again as they passed an exhibit of several birds in flight. "Avian Gallery clear," Jules reported as they ran.
"Our shooter's been quiet," Sam mused.
Parker's response was none too encouraging. "Mean's he's done, dead, or reloading."
"Let's hope for done," Ed remarked. Two gunshots shattered that hope.
"Ed!" Parker barked.
"Shots fired! Shots fired!" Ed yelled as they charged into the next room. A group of screaming, frantic civilians came charging out from the other direction. "Right there! Right there!" Ed hollered, fighting to be heard over the screaming.
"Stop where you are! Stay right there!" Wordy commanded, his own voice rising above the panic.
Onasi and Simmons both shifted their wands to set off noisemaker spells, but Lou grabbed Onasi's wand and shook his head at Simmons, before adding his own voice to the melee. "Everybody stop! Stop right now!"
Ed's bellow rose again, "Right there! Stop! Stop!"
To the surprise of the two Aurors, the panicked crowd actually stopped, though they looked as if they'd start running and screaming again at the least provocation. Onasi looked down at his wand and cringed, realizing that a noisemaker spell probably would have made things worse…a lot worse. In the dim light, he looked at the older Auror, who wore a similar expression of hindsight dismay.
With the crowd stopped, Ed's orders changed, "Wordy, Simmons, contain these people! Get them out of here now!"
"Move! Move!" Wordy snapped at the civilians, already shifting to herd them out of the area to safety. Simmons joined him, his expression a bit relieved. Crowd control was something he understood…one heck of a lot better than Muggles who shot each other at close range. The rest of Team One and his fellow Auror helped to herd the people past and into the next corridor.
"Let's go, folks! Now!" Lane ordered, impatience reeking.
Far more patient, Wordsworth called, "Quickly! Please! Let's go! Come on, come on quickly!"
"Easy folks, you're just about out!" Simmons added, the shorter man's trademark calm finally coming to the fore. "Let's go! This way, please!" The Auror shifted to one side so he could bracket one side of the group while Wordsworth handled the other side.
Behind them, Simmons heard a gunshot and a yell from Callaghan. "Shooter twelve o'clock!"
"Go, go, go!" Lane roared. "Let's move!"
"Move that way now!" Wordsworth ordered their civilians, drawing Simmons' attention back to the task at hand. "Go! Keep going!"
Simmons jogged alongside the Muggles, trading a glance with his Muggle colleague, before calling, "Down the stairs to your right, folks! We'll have you out in no time!"
Simmons leaned back in his chair, enjoying his first taste of the comfortable Muggle chairs in Team One's briefing room. His dark eyes focused on the Muggle investigator across from him and her annoyance at his posture just amused him further.
"You are…Inspector Nathanial Simmons, am I correct?" the Muggle inquired, her voice calm even as her eyes snapped sparks at him.
"I am," the Auror confirmed lazily, leaning back even further in his seat, just to annoy her.
Her responding smile was pure ice…and just as brittle. "You and your associate Detective Onasi are not attached to Team One, from what I understand. How is it that the two of you were actually called in by Sergeant Parker?"
Simmons inspected his fingernails a moment, frowning at the specks of blood adorning them, before responding. "Team One has earned a great deal of respect in the division Detective Onasi and I work for. We've called them in many a time before. Seemed only fair to return the favor when they needed a bit of help."
"So…your arrival on scene was purely a return favor to a unit that's helped you out before?" The Muggle leaned back, considering him. "Then why, Inspector Simmons, are you and your associate mostly blacked out on the transcript?"
The Auror smirked without looking up from the specks of blood he was trying to get off his fingernails. "You are persistent, aren't you?" He finally glanced up and leaned forward in his seat. "Let me give you a bit of information and a bit of advice; as one person who doesn't like Parker much to another." Her expression flickered, betraying her surprise. "Oh, don't play coy with me, ma'am…if you'd shot any worse of a glare at Parker, he'd be dead by now. I'd have to be blind to miss that one."
The smirk spread wider. "What you've got is the best you're going to get…unless by some miracle you get yourself Official Secrets Act clearance…which I doubt. Now," his expression turned serious, "You think you're going to land yourself a nice big catch here tonight, but, quite frankly, between you and Parker…he's going to win without even trying. His reputation is impressive, his record since joining the SRU impeccable, and he just happens to have two charges that…in my division…are considered VIPs. You'd need a heck of a lot more than whatever you've cooked up here tonight to get rid of him. So, my advice? Just drop it…you'd get farther banging your head against that wall over there."
Dark eyes glinted in the lights from above and he bestowed her his widest, most insincere smile – the one he saved for suspects whom he really didn't like. "Now, Miss Hastings…is there an actual question – one that I'm cleared to answer – on the table?"
He quite enjoyed the Muggle's absolutely infuriated expression.
Wordy shifted in his seat; whatever Simmons had said to Hastings had obviously ticked her off, but then, the Auror seemed to have a special talent for that sort of thing. Usually, Simmons seemed to get the best…or worst, depending on how you looked at it…rise out of the people he interacted with; Wordy himself was probably one of the few exceptions as he'd gotten the better of Simmons without even hardly trying. On the other hand, it took a lot to get a rise out of the gentle cop.
With a bit of bite to her voice, Hastings leaned forward as he described getting the civilians out and said, "Wait. This was eight minutes in. Eight minutes since you entered the building and Ed Lane told you to stay."
"Yep," Wordy confirmed.
"Or was it Sergeant Parker?"
Why would Sarge give on-scene tactical orders? "Ed," Wordy countered with a frown. "We needed the crowd contained. This is all in the transcript."
Hastings studied him a moment. "Does your team leader have confidence in you?"
"What do you mean?" Wordy questioned, confused.
"Pursue an active shooter or babysit witnesses," Hastings drawled, "Ed Lane left you behind."
Wordy's voice turned firm. "Those witnesses were putting themselves and us in danger. They needed to be evacuated."
"Okay, I get it," Hastings replied, turning understanding all of a sudden. "It was important to keep them safe, so put a trusted officer on it."
"What is this, some solo version of good cop/bad cop?" Wordy asked, studying the woman closely. There was something going on…besides her unhappiness with the restricted transcript and Simmons' barbed remarks.
With a rueful laugh, Hastings replied, "Sorry. Old habit from the force."
"Okay," Wordy granted, "Well, it's confusing."
A sad smile spread across her face. "You would've just made my old partner Brian very happy. He thought it would trip up the bad guys if we sort of switched sides, mid-interrogation. I guess I still do it."
Her words gave it away…that and the sorrow he recognized in her eyes…sorrow he'd come close to sharing himself a year earlier. "It's hard losing a partner," Wordy observed quietly.
Congeniality fell away in an instant. "What?"
Not backing down, Wordy explained, "You said it 'would've' made him happy, not 'it will'." Hastings stared at him, no give in her eyes or expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
With a sharp clear of her throat, Hastings demanded, "So, what happened next, was that a mistake?"
Onasi ran to keep up with Team One, wand out, but likely not needed as they closed in on a man running with gun in hand. He drew even with Young as they rounded the next corner and flew past the next exhibit. "Police!" Lane roared, "Police!"
The man turned the next corner with Team One in hot pursuit and raced over a short bridge. Onasi felt his breath start to come in pants, but didn't slow as he and Lou brought up the rear of the chase.
"Right there!" Lane yelled, in the lead with Jules and Sam on either side.
"Police! Stop right there!" Braddock shouted.
"Drop your weapon!" Jules ordered, aiming her weapon.
The silver-haired man turned back, lifting both hands in surrender, but also waving in the direction he'd been running, before bringing both hands above his head, the gun aimed skyward.
"Drop it now!" Ed barked.
"It's not me!" the man cried.
"On the ground!" Sam snarled.
"Drop it now!" Ed repeated.
The man dropped his weapon as Lou and Onasi stayed back; there was no room for either man. "It's not me! It's not me!"
"On the ground now!" Sam snapped, but he was already moving, taking the man down with a single blow to the center of his chest.
"Stay down! Stay down!" Ed yelled, moving forward as the man on the ground groaned in pain.
Sam quickly frisked the captive while Onasi breathed a quiet sigh of relief…they'd done their job, stopped the shooter…now maybe he could go home and drown himself in Firewhiskey. "He's clean," Sam reported after a short search.
"Boss, subject secure," Ed called on the comm.
Two sharp reports came from farther into the museum in equally sharp counter-argument.
"Eddie?" Parker questioned.
"Correction. Subject still at large."
Author note: And now for the RL update: I have a project due Tuesday that's...huge. My Dad, an experienced software developer, took one look and said, "There's no way you can meet all these requirements in less than a week."
So...I've been given an Impossible Feat. Fortunately, I have Backup that's very, very used to Doing the Impossible... At least, that's the idea. I know there's no human way to get this thing done. I also know there's no human way to even try to get this done and also study all the material they threw at us this week.
Therefore...Please Keep Praying. Anyone who's been reading and not praying...please start, even if you don't believe in prayer. I'm not trying to guilt any one or call any one out...I just really, really need all the prayer I can get.
And...since it's late at night and I just need to get this out: Please, Lord, keep helping me. I know You've brought me this far. I know You brought me here for a reason. You are my All in All, my Kinsman Redeemer, my beloved Saviour. Guide me, Father, give me the eyes to see, the ears to hear, the words to speak. Grant me the wisdom to know when to speak and when to be silent. Help me in this task You have set before me. Not man, You. May I have Your peace, Your strength, and Your knowledge of how to meet this challenge. In Your Son's precious name, Amen.