Ecklie sat behind his desk holding a worn pink teddy bear in his hands. He had bought it from the hospital gift shop the day Morgan was born . He had been so nervous and excited at the time. He smiled recalling the memory. He had no clue how to be a father, but back then, it held so many possibilities. He still had no idea what he was doing, but he wasn't so optimistic anymore. Today was his last chance to make things right before his granddaughter was born. He had been running the words he had planned to say to Morgan through his mind when Russell interrupted his thoughts.
"Conrad, we have a problem," Russell started. Ecklie looked up at him, setting the toy on his desk. "We have a hostage situation in progress at a local diner. They are demanding to speak with you." Russell took a breath gripping the top of the chair in front of him. He continued. "We have reason to believe Finn, Hodges, and Morgan are some of the captives."
"Morgan?" the sheriff breathed. He stood up and started walking towards the door. "Let's go."
Greg and Sara were finishing up an interview with a suspect about her whereabouts the night of a murder when their phones buzzed again. It was the third time in last fifteen minutes. Looking at his phone, Greg excused himself and stepped out of the interrogation room.
"Russell, what's going on?" Greg began. Listening to his response, Greg stopped cold in his tracks. "WHAT?!'' he shouted, startling several people passing him in the hall. He paid them and their curious glances no mind, his thoughts elsewhere.
"We'll be right there." His throat went dry. He swung open the door to the interrogation room, slamming it against the wall. "Sara, we need to go. Now!" He felt his body trembling, anger and fear rising in him.
She looked at him in disbelief. "Okay," she said hesitantly, leaving the detective to finish the inquest. "What's going on?" she asked as they raced out of the building.
"Morgan is being held hostage."
They were lined up on the floor against the wall at the back of the diner, stripped of their phones and other belongings. There were eight of them in all: Morgan, Finn, Hodges, the waitress, the cashier, two of the kitchen staff, and an old grey-haired gambler who, down on his luck, had picked the worst time to grab a burger. Sitting in that position was so uncomfortable that Morgan felt a dull pain radiating down her back. She was taking small deep breaths trying to keep herself from panicking. She could feel her little girl doing somersaults inside her.
The men had said little since their first tirade, now speaking in hush tones only to each other. They seemed to be in disagreement with each other. One man appeared uncertain in his role, the gun shaking slightly in his hands and his pace quickening as he scanned the hostages. The man in the dark suit was more steady, in control. Morgan recognized the shaky gunman but couldn't place from where, and the slowly intensifying back pain wasn't helping her to think.
Sirens grew louder until they were vibrating right outside the diner, bright flashing red and blue lights seeping through the slats of the blinds. The phone behind the counter begin ringing.
"Watch them," the one in control barked to the other as he went to answer the phone.
Taking the opportunity, Finn whispered to Morgan. "How are you holding up?"
"Uncomfortable, but okay," Morgan answered. She closed her eyes, breathing through another back spasm.
"Are you sure?" Finn asked watching her. Morgan opened her eyes feeling liquid spread underneath her. She looked for the source of the spill until it hit her.
"Oh my God, I think my water just broke!"
Everyone was staring at her now.
Ecklie and Russell climbed out of the squad car taking in the scene. A dozen police vehicles flanked them on either side. Ecklie stood numbly staring at the dark cold building that held his daughter and her fate.
"We have contact," an officer said handing Ecklie the cell phone. Ecklie tried to remember his training. Rage coursed through him, but he couldn't let it show.
"This is Sheriff Ecklie speaking. What is it you want?" He spoke each word slowly, controlled.
"Pleasantries first, Sheriff. Don't you want to know who I am? Or do you already recognize my voice from our very insightful meeting a few months ago?" Cynicism traveled through the phone's speaker. And, all of a sudden, he did recognize. The sound of the voice bringing him back to that moment.
Seven months earlier and an hour before his meeting with Morgan, Ecklie sat in his office across from Samuel Eller. Eller's son, Jacob, had been killed a week before by law enforcement. He was the prime suspect in a convenience store robbery turned homicide, basically confirming his guilt when he returned to the crime scene for the money, shooting an officer and a CSI in the process.
"Look, you have my deepest sympathies, but that's about all I can give you," Ecklie told him. This didn't sit well with Eller, who dripped of money and power, obviously not accustomed to not getting his way.
"Like hell it is. You killed my only child and then ran his name, our name, through the mud. I think you owe me more than your sympathies."
Elle was blind to all the evidence the sheriff had laid before him, finding some way to excuse each damning clue. Jacob's prints were all over the murder weapon, which he had been holding when he was shot. Eller blew it off as a scared boy picking up the discarded murder weapon for his own self defense. The video surveillance which showed a man matching Jacob's description performing the hold up was too grainy to be taken seriously. Besides, why would Jacob, heir to a real estate fortune, need to rob a gas station for a measly couple thousand? The answer: he was a nineteen year old with a fake id, a penance for blackjack, and a deep fear of disappointing his father.
"Do you have children, Sheriff?"
"A daughter," Ecklie said adjusting his tie, ready for the uncomfortable encounter to end.
"So if it was your child, I bet this would be a different matter. You would be doing everything you could to rectify the situation."
"Look, I wish I could help you, but there is not much that can be done."
Eller fumed. "You sit behind that desk, behind that title, and think that this doesn't concern you. That I'm just another person you can throw words at and wash your hands of." Ecklie began to show him out the door. "You haven't heard the last of this, Sheriff."
"I'll take your silence as a yes," Eller continued. "Ever heard of an eye for an eye, Sheriff. Or perhaps, a child for a child." Greg, who had just walked up, heard the conversation. He slammed the roof of the car with his fist.
"Don't you touch her!" Russell and Sara pushed him back and out of ear shot of the phone's receiver. Ecklie watched them walk away, dread overcoming him.
"What is it you want from me?" his voice edged.
The shaky gunman looked from Morgan to Eller, eyes widening. "I can't do this. I can't. It wasn't supposed to be like this," he rambled. Eller glared at him, ignoring his comment as he continued his conversation with Ecklie.
"I want you to feel the pain my son felt. I will exchange all the hostages for you. You have an hour to decide, and if I were you, I'd hurry because it looks like we're about to have one more join us soon. Your daughter just went into labor." He hung up. Marching over to his accomplice, he grabbed him by the collar.
"Listen to me. This is what you signed up for. There is no going back now. You knew that the moment you stepped in the door. Pull yourself together or this will become a solo act." He let him fall back against one of the tables.
Morgan was watching the exchange trying to control the contractions, when she finally remembered where she knew the gunman from. A few months ago, she had questioned him about the murder of his son and wife. He was distraught, unfocused. His wife's ex had been stalking her, threatening her. They had gotten a restraining order against him, but in the end, it did no good. He had come over while the man was at work and brutally murdered his wife and child before killing himself. Morgan remember how deeply disturbed the scene had made her, especially since she had just found out she was pregnant, about to be a mother herself. Paul Avery. That was his name.
"Look, we have him right where we want him," Eller said to Avery. "Another hour and this will all be over. We will finally have our justice. Just don't screw it up before then." Avery nodded nervously, tightening the grip on his gun.
Greg sat on the asphalt against the police car, head in hands. He had promised to protect them, to always be there. His daughter wasn't even born yet, and he had already broken his promise. His world was falling apart, and all he could do was watch it crumble around him. Morgan was in labor. If they didn't get her out soon, both her and the baby could be at risk of dying, gunman or not. He felt Sara's presence next to him.
"Greg, we are going to get them out of there."
"Alive?" he scoffed, wiping away tears.
"Greg, look at me." He met her eyes. "You have to believe it is going to be okay. You have to continue to hope, even if that is all you can do. Otherwise, they win."
He nodded as she patted his back. Ecklie looked at them, focusing on Greg. He strapped on the bulletproof vest under his shirt, preparing to give himself over to the captors. This was his fault. He had put them all in this horrible situation. He just hoped he wasn't too late to fix it.
"You need to let her go. You can have the rest of us, but she needs to go to a hospital now," Hodges spoke up. It pained him to see Morgan in such agony, withering every few minutes, struggling to overcome what was inevitable.
Eller smacked him in the head with the butt of his gun. "Anyone else care to voice their opinion?" He kicked a fallen Hodges in the gut before walking off.
The sound of the loud speaker vibrated through the walls, giving both men pause.
"Send out the hostages. We are ready for the exchange." A voice boomed.
Russell eyed Ecklie. "Are you sure you want to do this? There has to be another way. This is suicide."
"No, leaving Morgan in there any longer would be suicide. I need to do this." Ecklie walked towards the entrance, the SWAT team making a shield behind him. The doors opened. Eller held Morgan, hunched over and tear streaked, in front of him with a revolver to her head. The other hostages quickly filed out, running to the other side of the law enforcement's shields. Finn and Hodges glanced back at Morgan as they were pushed forward by the others.
"Ready when you are, Sheriff." Eller smiled victorious.