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Fired Up

Previously: I let out a startled gasp of shock as the sound of shots rang out through the night.

Instinctively, I leapt from the car, but then stood, indecisively, not sure what to do. My heart was racing, and I clutched at my bag like a lifeline. Some part of my brain kicked in, and I rummaged quickly in my bag for my cell phone and my stun gun. Still, I wasn't sure what to do next. Should I call 9-1-1? Should I go over to see if I could help?

Out of desperation, I brought my phone up to my ear and dialled speed dial 1. It rang twice and then the honey baritone came through, "Yo."

"Carlos?" I said shakily. "There were shots. I heard shots. I don't know what to do. There were shots. What if the guys were shot? Should I call 9-1-1?" I babbled, frantically.

"Babe," Carlos' tone was firm and decisive, almost commanding, "Stop. Take a deep breath. Come on Steph, breathe with me." I heard him inhale slowly, deliberately, and then exhale equally slowly. Unconsciously, I matched his breathing for two breaths. Then his voice came back, "Better?"

I nodded, and then answered him, still a bit shaky, but much calmer, "Yes. Better. So, what do I do Carlos? Should I go over to help?"

"Are you armed, Babe?"

"My stun gun. I have my spray too." I knew he wanted me to have a gun, but I had never held one, certainly never shot one.

I heard a slight sigh, "Babe, please don't go in there without a gun. If you don't have one, then stay outside. Look, let's give it a couple more minutes…" As he was speaking, there were two more shots, clear and loud in the still night. "Babe? Babe are you there?" I heard the fear and tension in his voice.

"I'm still here, Carlos. I haven't moved. The shots came from inside the warehouse. Do you think they're OK? Maybe I should call 9-1-1." I was terribly frightened for the three men in the warehouse. I was also seconds away from running over to kick in the door; only Carlos' presence on the other end of the phone was holding me still.

I heard Carlos mutter something, it sounded like 'should be there'. I was torn by that thought. I wanted him here, beside me taking charge. But I knew if he was here he would have been leading the charge into the warehouse, not standing beside me. And I would have been only more frightened then. As we waited, I heard the faint wail of a siren, slowly getting closer. Someone had called 9-1-1.

"Carlos, I think someone called the police. I can hear sirens in the distance."

"Get back in the car Stephanie, now!" his tone was definitely commanding now. I moved to obey without thought, but once back in the car, I wondered why.

"What's wrong, Carlos? Why did you want me in the car?"

"Babe, please. Just get in the car, please."

"I'm back in the car," I acknowledged, "but I don't understand why."

"Steph, if something has happened, if one of the fugitives has been shot or killed, I don't want you involved as anything more than an observer. The police might arrest or detain the guys if there has been a gun battle, at least until they have got everything straight. I don't want you spending the night in jail or having to call for bail."

I could see his logic, but I was still really worried for the guys. Carlos assumed the fugitives would be the ones shot or killed, but what if it was Lester or Hector or Bobby? "What if one of the guys is shot though?" I asked.

"Then the police will call for an ambulance and you can follow them to the hospital. You can stay with them until I get there. If one of the guys is hurt, or if they're detained, I'll be on the next plane with Tank, Steph." I took another deep breath, sending up a prayer that they guys were all ok. As much as I wanted Carlos on the next plane to Trenton, I didn't want it at the cost of one my guys' lives.

The sirens were loud now, as I saw flashing lights a block away. A flash of movement caught my eye, and suddenly I could see the roller door come up. "Carlos, someone is coming out, the roller door just went up." A sudden thought occurred to me, "Carlos, what if the fugitives come out, what if they're running away? Should I go and stop them?"

"NO!" Carlos' command was almost a shout. "Babe please, neither of them is worth your life. If they get away, they get away. We'll track them down and get them later."

As he was answering me, I saw five shadowy figures coming out of the warehouse. One handcuffed figure was being dragged by his arm by Hector, and I could hear his angry cries of pain as he cursed at Hector. Another was sullenly silent. He had his arms behind his back, handcuffed too, and Bobby pushed him roughly forward. Bringing up the rear was Lester, and he looked to be limping badly, but he had his gun in hand, and was clearly watching everyone's backs. I was immensely relieved to see everyone at least walking, but then Lester stumbled, and he leaned heavily against a pile of boxes, clearly in pain.

I was narrating all this to Carlos on the phone while I opened the door to step out again. As the four men made it to the gate of the yard, two police cruisers pulled up, their sirens and lights booming through the night. By the time they had alighted from their cop cars, Lester had made it to the gate. Hector and Bobby made the two fugitives kneel in front of the fence, then raised their hands in the universal 'don't shoot' gesture to the police, who were shielding behind their cars, guns drawn and clearly ready to shoot at any provocation. Lester moved forward slowly, calling out to the police that they were fugitive apprehension, and these men were wanted felons.

I stepped forward, without thinking, since I had the capture paperwork in my bag. One of the police officers spun toward me, pointing their gun directly at me, and I froze, terrified. "Drop your weapon!" he barked at me, and I looked at him in confusion. His gaze flicked down, and I realised I was still holding the stun gun. I dropped it on the ground and stepped back, fearfully.

"Don't shoot!" I called. "I'm sorry, I forgot I was holding it. I'm sorry!" I babbled. "I have the bond recovery paperwork for the fugitives," I went on quickly, trying to defuse the tension, "I was just coming forward to give it to Lester." I pointed at Lester, who had not dropped his gun, but had it pointed at the ground.

By this point Lester was leaning against the fence, and I could see his normally latte-coloured skin was now approaching the colour of milk. Fear flashed through me that he was seriously injured, and I spoke again, "I think my colleague is injured," I pointed again at Lester, "Can one of you please call an ambulance?"

Bobby spoke, drawing attention to him, "He's been shot twice, in the leg and forearm. Arm's a through-and-through; leg the bullet is still embedded. I'm a paramedic, at least I was until a few months ago, and I patched him up, but he needs medical attention." Bobby then indicated the man kneeling in front of Hector. "He's been shot too, once through the shoulder. Through-and-through. It's not serious." As Booby said this the man yelled an obscenity at him. I could see Hector hiss something at him, though I couldn't hear what, and he shut up.

One of the police officers reached into his cruiser to pull out a radio, and I could hear him calling for an ambulance. The officer who had pointed his gun at me had lowered the weapon but came forward to speak to me. "You said you had capture paperwork, miss?" he asked fairly politely. I nodded and pointed at my bag. He nodded back, and I reached into the bag and slowly pulled out the wad of papers. I handed it to the officer, who moved toward a streetlight to skim it. "Looks legit; Sebring's," he called out to his fellow officers, "Paperwork's for Joseph Morrison and Anthony Turnbull." He looked back at me sharply, "Morrison and Turnbull?" he asked. "The bank job in North Trenton?" I nodded. He nodded back, decisively, and handed the papers back to me, before moving over to speak to the other officers.

After that, their attitude seemed to change, although I was not really sure why, and one of them moved forward to cover the two kneeling men, allowing Bobby to move to Lester's side. I saw his arm slide around Lester's waist as he spoke to him in low tones. He eased Lester to a sitting position on the fender of one of the cop cars, and I started to move forward to assist him, when I heard a faint, "Babe!" call from my left hand. I realised I had never hung up on Carlos, and I moved the phone up to my ear to hear him call frantically, "Babe!" again.

"I'm here Carlos," I said. "Everything seems to be ok, but Lester's been shot twice. Bobby's helping him now and the police have called for an ambulance. I was just going to help Bobby. The two men are both in custody." I heard Carlos' acknowledgement as I walked forward.

As I got to the cluster of men, I handed the phone to Hector, and made a gesture for him to speak to Carlos. I hoped he would fill Carlos in on everything, including the events I did not know yet. Hector nodded, and I saw him raise the phone to his ear and listen for a moment, before beginning to speak in rapid Spanish. Meanwhile I moved forward to where Bobby was examining Lester's leg. "Is he going to be ok?" I asked quietly, "He's looking awfully pale."

Bobby smiled slightly at me in reassurance, "He'll be fine, I think. He's lost some blood, but he should be ok once they get him to the hospital. The arm wound went through skin and muscle. The leg bullet is embedded in the vastus lateralis," Bobby pointed to the side of Lester's thigh. "I think it nicked an artery, which is why he is bleeding so much, but I've slowed it and he should be ok."

As he finished his explanation, I heard another siren, and saw an ambulance turn the corner and come toward the tableau. Hector called, "Estephania," and I turned toward him, and he handed my phone back to me. When I put it to my ear, Carlos spoke, "Babe, I'll be on a flight at 0500. I'll be in Trenton by 0930. Stay with Lester and Hector. Don't worry, everything is going to be fine. Hector tells me everyone acted within the law, and the fugitives shot first, that's how Santos was injured. Idiot," he added under his breath. "Santos returned fire and took down Morrison. It's going to be fine."

I drew in a relieved breath at hearing that Carlos was coming. But I still worried, "Should you be coming?" I asked quietly. "What about your appointments?"

"It's fine, Babe. My next appointment is not until next Tuesday, and if I'm not back, I'll either postpone or do it by phone." He reassured me.

I couldn't help a tiny smile that I would see him in less than ten hours, "Ok, Carlos, I… I can't wait to see you." I whispered.

"Me too, Babe," he replied. By this point the paramedics had arrived, and I saw them conversing with Bobby, who was filling them in on Lester's injuries and Morrison's wound. Lester began to protest about being taken to the hospital, saying Bobby could treat him, but I could see he was still weak and in a lot of pain. Carlos spoke again, "Babe, hand the phone to Lester."

I complied, and heard Carlos' deep tones barking orders at Lester, although I couldn't hear what he said. Sullenly, I heard Lester say, "Yes, Boss," and handed the phone back to me. After that he allowed the paramedics to wheel over a gurney and assist him to sit and then lie on it. I said my farewells to Carlos and disconnected.

The police officers told Lester that they would come to the hospital to take his statement, and I assured him that I would follow him to the hospital as soon as possible. The paramedic told me they were taking Lester to St Francis, so I nodded, and watched them wheel him away. Another paramedic was examining Morrison, and they told the police that they would take him as well to stich the minor wound, and then would release him to police custody. One police officer went with them, in the ambulance, and they led Morrison over to load him up beside Lester, the cop staying close.

After that, things moved quickly enough. The police took Turnbull into custody, and he was loaded into the back of one of the cruisers. They shackled him in and handed Hector back the handcuffs. The police started to take our statements, one talking to me, and one talking to Bobby. I explained the search for Morrison, confirming the warehouse as their hideout, and the planned apprehension. I described hearing the shots and seeing the men emerge. The officer thanked me and told me to drop by the station tomorrow and he would have the statement typed and ready for me to read and sign. About five minutes later, they finished with Bobby, and the officer moved over to begin talking to Hector in halting Spanish, while Hector answered slowly and deliberately to be understood. Within thirty minutes, the police had our statements, and told us we could go.

I spoke quickly with Bobby, and we decided that he and I would go straight to the hospital, while Hector would follow the police to the station to collect the Bond receipt. He would then join us at the hospital.

We all motored off, and I felt the tension of the night slowly leaving me. I felt almost limp with a mixture of relief, concern for Lester, and a niggling joy that I would Carlos so soon. I was so glad the capture was over.

At the hospital, we were directed to the ER waiting room. We were told that Lester had been examined and was scheduled for minor surgery to remove the bullet from his leg at 6am. Unfortunately, it had nicked a blood vessel and was embedded against his femur, so they did not want to do the surgery in the ER. We were allowed to go into see him once he was stabilised, and he was lying with his leg elevated in a sling, still looking pale and his face slightly pinched in pain. But even as we sat with him, the medication obviously started to kick in, and he began to relax slightly. I said, "So, I still don't know what happened in the warehouse. How did you get shot, Les?"

He grimaced and shook his head in disbelief, "Can't believe that asshole shot me," he grumbled, "As you know, Hector's surveillance indicated they were both asleep before we entered. We entered silently and went over to their campsite."

Bobby continued, "Morrison must've just got up to piss or something because his bedroll was empty. Les and I started to look around for Morrison, while Hector went to secure Turnbull. There was a little tussle since he tried to go for a gun, but Hector had him secured and handcuffed before he could. But he yelled out before Hector could subdue him. Next thing we know, Morrison was shouting at us to let Turnbull go or he would shoot. Naturally, we didn't, and Morrison started firing. It wasn't until we saw the gun flashes that we really knew where he was though, so that's how he managed to get Lester. I pulled Lester behind some equipment and started to patch him up as best I could."

Lester's voice had started to get drowsy from the pain medication and shock of losing blood, "Hec had Turnbull behind a pile of boxes, cuffed and facedown. Bobby and I were trying to locate Morrison."

Bobby took over again, "We saw a flash of movement to our right, and I've got to say, I've never seen reflexes like Lester's," his voice was admiring. "Even injured, he shot Morrison unerringly through the shoulder. After that, I managed to get Morrison cuffed and checked his shoulder, but it was just a flesh wound really, and we got ready to come out."

Lester's voice was barely a mumble now, "Shoulda aimed for 'is 'ead." I heard him say. I smiled ruefully at Bobby, and stroked Lester's hair gently as we watched him drift off to sleep.

I hope you liked the resolution of the capture! And Carlos is coming! Once again, Spanish is courtesy of Google Translate – please forgive me if it's wrong.

Please review if you can.