His hand started to shake even more. “What’s it matter? I’m screwed.”
“But you’re not dead. Would you rather leave this to your lawyer or your undertaker?”
He pondered a brief moment, moving his lips in some silent inner dialogue. And just when Nikki thought he might have come to his senses, he threw the front door open. She brought her piece up, but Paxton had already lunged behind the door and run out into the hallway.
Everything that happened next happened fast. The door slammed hard as Nikki scrambled for it. Behind her she heard guns clearing holsters, footfalls, and Raley on his walkie-?talkie. “Suspect is ten-?thirty-?two. Suspect is armed, repeat armed, with handgun on sixth floor. Detectives in pursuit.”
Heat slammed her back flat to the wall, shoulder even with the door frame, and her Sig Sauer up in an isosceles stance. “Cover,” she said. Ochoa performed like clockwork. He went low, crouching on one knee, fisting his Smith & Wesson in his right hand and grabbing the knob with his left. “On yours,” he said.
Without pause, Detective Heat calmly said, “Go.”
Ochoa pulled the door and held it open for her. Nikki pivoted around the jamb, squaring her aim up the hall. She stopped, still holding her combat stance, shook her head, and mumbled, “Mother…”
Ochoa and Raley rolled out behind her and stopped, too. Raley spoke quietly into his radio, “All units, we have a hostage.”
Rook was standing halfway up the hall with Paxton snugged behind him holding the gun to his head. He looked at Nikki sheepishly and said, “So, I’m gonna guess it’s Noah.”
Heat Wave
TWENTY
“Stop squirming,” said Noah Paxton. Rook started to turn his head to say something to his assailant, but Paxton jammed the muzzle of the gun hard into his skull.
“Ow. Hey.”
“I said hold still, damn it.”
“Do as he says, Rook.” Nikki still had her Sig Sauer up, keeping a bead on the small sliver of Noah Paxton that was showing behind his human shield. She didn’t need to turn to know that Raley and Ochoa were doing the same thing with their weapons behind her.
Rook raised his eyebrows contritely and looked at her like a kid who’d broken a living room lamp with a baseball. “I am really sorry about this.”
“Rook, be quiet,” said Nikki.
“From now on, I’ll do what I’m told.”
“Start now by shutting up.”
“OK.” Then he realized he was not shutting up. “Oops, sorry.”
“I want you to drop your guns,” said Paxton. “All of you.”
Heat didn’t say no because a direct verbal confrontation could heighten tensions. Instead she maintained her isosceles stance and let that be her answer. She spoke in a calm tone. “You’re smart enough to know you’re not getting out, Noah, so why don’t you let him go and end this peacefully.”
“You know, she makes sense,” said Rook. Heat and Paxton told him to shut up at the same time.
Paxton’s left hand held a handful of the back of Rook’s shirt in a bunch to keep him close. He gave it a tug. “Back up.” When he didn’t move, Noah gave a sharp pull. “I said move. That’s right, go with me, easy, easy.” He led Rook backward, taking baby steps to the elevator. When he saw that the three detectives were moving forward, matching his pace, he stopped. “Hey, stay back.”
Heat and Roach stopped but didn’t retreat.
“I’m not afraid to use this,” Paxton warned.
“Nobody said you were.” She was calm but sounded in command. “But you don’t want to.”
Paxton moved the gun away slightly to adjust his grip, and Rook slid forward, only to get jerked back. “Don’t be stupid.” Noah again pushed the muzzle hard against the soft bone behind Rook’s ear. “All it takes is one. Do you have any idea what this will do to you?”
Rook nodded as much as he dared. “Scrambled eggs.”
“What?”