A/N: Quite the cliffhanger from the last one, eh? Its what I do. Now that I have all my characters developed and introduced, I can start playing with them. Read and Review!
The red and white lights pierced the dark night sky. As the truck ran the red light, he honked the air horn several times.
One of the driver's comrades in the rear seat looked back behind them from the window. He was almost certain that the driver of the Honda behind them had an accident in his pants...
But that isn't what he should be thinking of. Four vehicle pileup on the DVP, or Don Valley Parkway. With four vehicles- that introduced a lot of gasoline, and a lot of potential sparks from severed wiring and broken battery casings. They didn't get a lot of detail from the 911 dispatcher- all they knew was that the collision involved an Ontario Provincial Police, or OPP unit vehicle.
In this call- the firefighters, for once would save the day.
We were on night shift, and we had finished doing our workout. After our workout, me and Ed were getting ready a cart of guns and ammo that we were going to take down to the shooting range in sub basement two.
"Not so fast." Greg said, as he poked his head into the weapons cage, as he motioned at me, "Mind if we have a talk?"
"No problem." I said, "Ed- meet you down at the range?"
"And leave me with the heavy lifting?" Ed joked, as me and Greg went into the hall, and started walking together.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Some people would call it paranoid, but we have cameras all over this place- you know that, right?"
"Yeah. What's this about?" I asked, as we came to a stop in front of Greg's personal office.
"Why don't we go in?" Greg asked.
Having no reservations, I followed Greg in.
"Have a seat." he said, as he motioned to a chair beside Keira.
Beside Keira? What the hell?
"So," Greg said, "Do the two of you know why you're here?"
I answered 'no', at the same time that Keira answered, 'yes.'
"Maybe this will clear things up." Greg stated, turning his computer monitor, and pressed a button.
On the monitor, was a black and white video of Conference Room Two. Inside was me and Keira...what the hell?
"When did that happen?" I asked.
"You have no recollection of this?" Greg asked, "Are you ill?"
"No sir, I'm not." I replied, with honesty, "Honestly sir- I'm at a loss here."
We both looked over to Keira, who squirmed in her seat.
"Keira?" Greg asked, "Do you have anything to add?"
She looked at me then at Greg.
"In his defence Sargent Parker, he was probably light headed, dizzy and disorientated...he most likely didn't know what he was doing." Keira explained in a small voice.
"Perra-" Greg said, "Your a good guy and an excellent team member. I don't want you to see you throw away your career. You understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. You were clearly taken advantage of in the situation. Keira- you're at fault here. Anything else to say?"
She shook her head, as tears rolled down her fair skin.
"Kiera-" Greg said in a comforting voice, "Your one of the best, but this is too much. And because...well, because I don't want to taint your career, which may or may not get you fired by the Police Disciplinary Board, which would then make it next to impossible to get another job in policing- I'm going to let you off with a warning- and a promise to me, to not let it happen again- you understand me Keira?"
Again, she nodded, this time with a constant flow of tears down her cheeks, her skin flushed, and her eyes darting away from the glances from me and Parker.
The siren came over the intercom.
"Team one- hot call! Hostage situation at a four vehicle collision on the Don Valley Parkway. Fire and EMS services en route."
Both me and Greg jumped out of our chairs, and left the office, leaving Keira crying in the chair.
Me and Eddie were packing up our SUV.
"Winnie- what do you know?" the sarge asked over the headset.
"Four vehicle pileup on the DVP, involving an OPP unit. Shots fired at first responders by a white male, early twenties. They believe that he's in possession of the firearms from the OPP unit."
"Copy that. Ed?"
I looked over to Ed, as we were know merging onto the highway.
"We're highly exposed- full shields. Spike, you cover the boss from upwind. Me and Jules- Alpha, cover from downwind, and come up from behind. Spike- we got any overlooking towers?"
"No buildings, but there are some telecommunications towers nearby." came Spike with the intel.
"Sam, your Sierra One, Perra, Sierra Two. Find a position, and overlook. You'll be our feeders- Sierra Two, you'll cover the parabolic for ears, and also be our eyes- do you copy?"
"Yes sir." I said to Ed, as we pulled up to the scene.
I got out, and went to the back of the SUV. I grabbed the bolt action rifle, safety harness, and the bag containing the extra gear I'd need in order to set up the microphone.
After a quick glance down the highway to get my bearings, I scanned my immediate horizon and found my tower.
The tower is surrounded by a fence. I'll need to find a gate and breach it.
I started looking around for the gate. Couldn't find it...Damn.
Climb the fence. Ignore the pain from the barbed wire. Once on the other side, find the ladder and scale the tower to a reasonable height and set up the parabolic.
Easy peasy.
I got to my position in the tower. I quickly put on the safety harness and used the industrial lanyard to tie myself to the structure of the tower.
I dropped my second bag down to the catwalk, and started assembling the parabolic microphone, complete with a cabled headphone and another cable to hook it into the radio.
Plug the cable into the radio, and pop on the headphones. I found a squared bar, and clamped down the microphone.
Remove the slung rifle from my back. Check the safety- safety off. Take a military spec 7.62x51mm NATO round from the ammunition sleeve on the buttstock and load it into the opened action. Slide the bolt forward and down- find my target.
"Sierra two has the solution." I said over the radio, "Parabolic in place and functioning. Subject appears to be armed with two 1911 framed handguns- most likely police issue. Three hostages unharmed, and behind a Pontiac sedan- hands on their heads. No police officers in site. More hostages possible in the vehicles- no confirmation- cannot see from this angle. Sierra One?"
"Sierra one in position." Sam said over the radio, "Confirmation of Sierra two's intel. Two officers in plain sight from my angle. One on the pavement. One in semi-crushed unidentifiable sedan. Appears to be stuck. Sierra one has the solution."
"Good job Perra, Sam." came Greg's voice, "Spike- cover me, and push forward. I need to make first contact. Perra- you have the parabolic in the radio?"
"Yes sir." came my reply.
I could hear everything from a mix of the radio and the parabolic...
"This is Sargent Greg Parker, with the Police Strategic Response Unit- is everybody ok?"
"Screw off!" yelled the subject, waving the gun the direction of the hostages, "Come any closer, and I start killing people!"
"Ok, ok. I'm not coming any closer, but I need to know if everyone is OK in there. Is everyone ok?"
"Screw off!" he yelled again, as he waved the gun over the fallen police officer.
"Boss- I think you need to try a different tactic here." came Ed's reply.
From here I could see Greg nod in agreement.
"Sir- you need to understand that there are two police officers in the collision there. You also need to know that with the mix of gas, and electricity-the entire scene could blow at any second."
"I don't care! Nobody cares. Screw this entire goddamn place!"
Greg tucked in behind the ballistic shields. "Sierras- anymore info?"
"None from here boss." Sam said.
"Same here." came my reply.
"Where getting no where boss. He's pissed, angry at the world, and he's not making any demands. Should we initiate Stockholm?" suggested Jules.
"Its as good a try as ever." Greg thought aloud, "Sir- can you tell me your name?"
"No!"
"What about the names of the hostages you have. I just want to contact their families and tell them they're ok. Is there anyone we could contact for you?"
Silence.
I scanned the scene, and saw the subject breaking down. He's starting to cry.
"He's crying boss..." I said, "Wait, he's talking to a female hostage."
"They can help you. They helped my sister when she wanted to kill herself...because of them, I have someone too." she said to the subject.
"Stockholm initiated boss. Good work." commented Sam.
"They can't help me!" the male screamed at the hostage, "These two low lifes took her away!"
Suddenly a double beep came over the headset, followed by a soft voice, as if recovering from losing their voice, "Boss," came Keira's voice, "I went through the traffic cameras. Based on the vehicle descriptions from the first responders, I may have found the vehicle your subject was driving- license number Bravo Tango Alpha Tango, Four Eight Niner- registered to a David Brown."
"Keira..." came Greg's condescending voice, "You remember the conversation we had before I left?"
"Yes- what is it?"
"Nothing. Thank you."
Greg turned to face the subject again, "David, I want to help you, and I want to help the people in the crash, but I can't do any of that unless you co-operate. You understand?"
"A female hostage- blonde hair, slim build is beginning to console the subject boss." I relayed the info.
"I understand that one of the women you are holding hostage David, is helping you. You mind telling me her name..."
"My name's Amber." she said, as it was picked up by the parabolic.
"Thank you for helping us Amber." Greg said, "Can you tell us how the two police officers are doing?"
"One is stuck in the cruiser, the other was ejected from the drivers seat and is unconscious."
"Thank you, Amber. What about the other hostages, are they ok?"
"Yes, they're ok."
Suddenly the subject stood up and started waving the guns around again.
"Shut up, bitch!" he screamed, as he kicked her violently in the chest.
"Hostage Amber has been kicked in the chest by the subject." Sam observed.
"Subject becoming violent." I added, "Boss- how long we gonna let it go on?"
Ed's voice crackled over the radio- "Greg, Alpha team can take down the subjects and contain the hostages, he still doesn't know we're here- but I'm going to need to take one of the Sierras."
"No Ed, they're relaying valuable information. Without them we'd still be trying to make first contact."
"I know Greg, but we can't just sit here and let them sit by a fire hazard." Ed snapped back.
"And the fact that a fire fighter was just yelling at Ed for the past five minutes about needing to attend to the scene." added Jules.
"Ok- Perra, your the closest to Ed." Greg said with exasperation, "Stay blue, and meet up with Ed. Transfer the parabolic signal to channel 3."
Listening to my commands, I engaged the safety on the rifle, and slung it over my back. With one quick move to my belt, I removed the radio, and switched it to channel three. Leaving the parabolic gear there, I descended the ladder.
Jump the fence. Use the trees as cover, make my way to Ed and join up.
I came into sight of Jules and Ed. I handed the rifle to Jules, who casually threw it into the back of the nearest truck.
"Less lethal?" I asked Ed.
Ed gave me a nod.
I drew my handgun, and removed the hot cartridge magazine, and dumped it into my drop pouch. From my mag holster on my load bearing vest, I selected a pistol magazine that had a piece of blue tape on it, and slammed it into the handgun.
"Ok- three prongs- Perra, you take the front centre- subdue and detain the subject, me and Jules, we'll wrap around and secure the hostages. On three we sprint..."
I nodded, and in anticipation, lowered my upper body to the ground, and bent my legs, much like a track runner would.
"One...two...three!"
Right after the fifth vowel left Ed's mouth I sprinted forward in the centre. It took me less than 10 seconds to run the 15 meters. I brought the handgun up and lined up the iron sights onto the subject.
"Police! SRU!" I yelled with unending ferocity, "Drop your weapon!"
I saw his one handgun come up to aim at me, and with seconds before him, I let out two rubber bullets into his abdomen.
But I heard three shots fire...
I looked over to Ed and Jules.
Ed came up behind the subject, and used some deft hand to hand techniques to the subject, to disarm him, as he had held onto the two pistols as if it was his lifeline.
I felt myself falling. I wasn't expecting it, so my face fell face first into the icy pavement.
Once on the ground, I snapped back to my senses, as I felt a burning sensation and wet fluid on my left shoulder.
I rolled over and applied pressure with my right hand. It was no good. I could feel my surroundings fade away to darkness.
And just before I passed out, I looked up to Jules, who was crouching over me.
I heard her yell something, but I couldn't make it out.
She stooped closer to me and softly whispered, "It'll be ok."
Haley woke up early. She had a hard time sleeping without her husband beside her.
She entered the dark kitchen, and glanced at the clock. 6:03am. I can catch the morning news.
She walked over to the fridge and turned on the small television perched atop it.
The volume was already low. Kris must've watched the 10pm news before going to work.
She turned around and started making the coffee, as she listened to the news.
"...say economists. Back to you, Gary."
"Thanks Jo-anne. Back to local news, reports are starting to come in of a four vehicle pile-up on the Don Valley Parkway..."
Probably people not driving for the conditions.
"Toronto's finest, the Strategic Response Unit was on scene. No persons in the collision were seriously injured, and the subject is in custody, appearing in court tomorrow morning on the charges of unlawful possession of a firearm, reckless driving, and causing bodily harm with intent, and causing bodily harm to a peace officer. During the altercation, one Strategic Response Officer was shot, and was airlifted to St. Patrick's Hospital."
She turned around quickly to catch the last bit of the video that they were showing. It was a simple pan over a wrecked car, and zooming out to see a Strategic Response Unit truck.
The woman began to weep. Why am I crying? It wasn't him. It can't be. He's one of the best- how else could he have been selected to be a part of Canada's top tactical unit?
She heard footsteps coming down the hall. She quickly wiped her cheeks, and continued making the coffee.
"Why are you up so early?" Haley asked Megan, stifling back some tears.
Megan looked at her mother, as she stretched and poked some buttons on her cell phone, as she had just received a text.
Megan read the text, and looked up at her mom, who's eyes were red, and a few tears could be spotted on her nose.
"I guess you heard, right?" Megan asked.
"About what?"
"The shooting on the DVP."
"Its ok," Haley said with a smile, "Your father is one of the best."
Confused, Megan looked back at her phone. No, she thought, That's what it says...
"Mom...dad got shot."
I woke up in the hospital. On my shoulder, there was a large patch of gauze, which was oozing red.
The pain...holy crap, the pain.
I looked down to my hand, and I was gripping the side of the bed so hard my knuckles were turning white.
I released my hand, as the frosted glass door opened, and a nurse, wearing light pink scrubs and carrying a brushed stainless clipboard in hand.
"Mr. Perrasmith, I'm glad your awake." she said, "My name's Monica. I need to ask you a few questions."
"What time is it?" I asked.
"The time doesn't matter, at least in your situation. Your emergency contact...a Mrs. Theresa Perrasmith, we called her, and she didn't know who you were. Is there anyone else we should call?"
"Its my mother...you should call my wife."
"Can you write down her number for me?"
She peeled off a sticky note and put it on the table, and placed a pen on it, and swung the table over to me.
"Are you allergic to anaesthetic?"
"No."
"Have you taken any drugs and/or medications in the last twenty hour hours?"
"No."
I looked up at the woman, my patience for her wearing thin. "Anything else?"
"Do you have any objections to some visitors?"
"No."
The nurse left, and just before the door closed, Jules, Spike and Greg entered.
"What, I don't get the whole scooby gang?" I replied with a smirk.
"You're in good spirits for a guy who just got shot." Jules said, as she pulled up a chair.
Greg looked over to Spike, who was fiddling around with his phone.
"Spike- how many times do I have to tell you- technology goes off in hospitals." Greg said, "How you doing bud?" he asked me.
"Don't worry boss, just sending Megan a text."
"Who's Megan?" Greg asked, as he took a seat opposite Jules.
"My daughter." I answered.
Two male nurses came in.
"Ok Mr. Perrasmith, an OR room just opened up. You're scheduled for surgery to fix your severed tendons, remove the bullet, and stitch it up."
I nodded to the team as they carted me out of the room.
Outside in the hall, we went by Ed, who was stern faced, as he talked to an administrative nurse.
Jules, Spike and Greg followed Perra out the door, as they watched him being carted down past a
'No Admittance' sign.
Greg looked stern faced, as he looked down the hallway, bustling with people, hopelessly.
"I'm glad we got that sorted out." Greg said, as he looked over to Ed, who was sitting down-tapping his foot nervously, "Ed- its not your fault."
"I never said it was" Ed snapped back.
"Eddie...c'mon," Greg started, knowing what to do, to push Ed off the edge.
"I shoulda done it, Greg." Ed butted in, "It was my choice, and I put him to the primary prong in a three-prong setup."
Greg sat down beside Ed, "Its not your fault he got shot. Most likely anyone in that position would've been shot...if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I should have tried to talk down the subject more- take the Stockholm deeper."
Ed shook his head, as he furrowed his brow- hoping that his team-mate, no, his friend, is going to be ok, not blame him.
Jules stepped outside the hospital and grabbed her personal phone, and pressed in a speed dail number.
"Hey, Sam?" she asked.
"Yeah?" came his reply.
"Everyone is kinda shook up because of this, and I just need someone to talk to."
"I'll be at your place in five." came Sam's quick response.
Jules gave a weak smile, as her current thoughts were on their new team-mate in an operating room, breathing in air smelling of sleep and disinfectant.
Spike didn't really know what to do with himself. Should he stay? Should he go? He saw Jules leaving...Probably to 'hang out' with Sam. They've been doing a lot of that lately.
Parker and Ed were talking in the hallway adjacent, and Spike could overhear parts of the conversation...Ed felt responsible...Greg telling him it 'it's not your fault'...Greg's going to the cafeteria? Ed talking about calling his wife, telling her that he'd be staying at the hospital...
Should I stay or go? Jules left. Sam isn't here. Greg's going to take his mind of off it by downing a cup of joe and a muffin...
"Spike!"
Spike jumped, not expecting a petite brunette to be running at him, followed by Perra's gorgeous wife...God, she could be a Maxim model...
"Hey Megan." Spike said, as he started tapping his foot, "Haley, right?"
The blonde gave him a weak smile, "Yes." she responded.
Spike's robocop-like intuition went into hyper drive. She's been crying. Very hard. Red streaks from the eyes, and small beads of tears.
He stood up, and gave the woman a hug, wrapping his lean muscular arms around her.
Haley stood there, unknowing of what to do. She wasn't comfortable hugging back, but she did understand the sentiment.
"He just went into surgery." Spike explained, "He lucky, it didn't break any bone. Tore up some ligaments and tendons pretty bad. They're going to do there best to fix it."
I woke up, back in the hospital room. Probably the same one. This time, he was hooked up to more machines. An IV drip was set up with what appeared to be some sort of painkiller...
"You're up." came a woman's weak voice.
I looked across the room to see Haley leaning against the wall, as if to keep it from falling.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
She came closer and grabbed my left hand. I could feel her purposely rubbing the gold wedding band on my ring finger.
"Your going to need to take physical therapy for the next few months, and your boss says you could probably come back to work next week, under light duties, so long as you can requalify to standards at a preset later time." she explain.
She put my hand down, as she walked away in the other direction and sat down.
My SRU training in emotional profiling kicked in- she's angry at me.
"Why?" she asked. "Why do you bring unnecessary stress into our home? Why couldn't you have stayed in unit 52? Everything would be much simpler..."
"Hales- we talked about this. You said you could deal with the added emotional stress..."
"Well I obviously can't!" she yelled, with a few tears rolling down her cheeks.
She looked at her watch, and became flustered again, "It's almost noon. The sitter could only watch Matthew for a bit. Did you want to see him?"
"Should he see his father like this?" I asked.
"He's two, Kris, he probably won't remember it," she said, as she grabbed her purse and coat, and opened the door, "When I get back, I hope your ready to love me again."
A/N: Crappy ending? Most likely. Read and review- I'd like to hear what you think!