Chief Baker had also included a five-dollar bill.
Her insides clutched painfully. He’d carried her note for weeks. Baker was going out of his way to show that he was nothing like a robot. Everything about him was tailor-made to ensnare her; he was funny, thoughtful, measured as the Chief, but hiding a goofy side that she wanted to glimpse.
It wasn’t in her nature to avoid temptation, but even her nature couldn’t take yet another rejection from him.
Next, Captain Williams insisted on watching another thirty minutes of awful instructional videos and then reviewed how to set up the half partitions to signify the walls in the false scenarios. The police officers took out brightly colored prop guns and nightsticks, all adorned with stickers.
Elias brought written scenarios on cards and selected volunteers. Aiden and Erin were picked to be injured victims on the floor. They were supposed to be shot in a bank robbery with the perpetrator having fled the scene.
Unfortunately, despite the instructions, the group put together the fake hallway without making it wide enough to get the gurney to the victims. The first attempt spectacularly knocked over the hallway and the fake room.
Someone shouted, “Earthquake!”
Another voice responded, “Sharknado!”
Williams glared, and it went quiet. Chief Baker was sitting off to the side, working on his ever-present paperwork and not interfering.
It took ten minutes to set up the walls again, which gave them time to ‘alter’ the scenario for kicks. Elias ordered everyone back to the beginning, and they started again. Vanessa and Theo, flanked by Elias’s and Charlie’s team, managed to roll the gurney down the fake hallways and turn the corner.
“What are your injuries?” Vanessa dramatically landed next to Aiden.
“’Tis but a scratch,’” Aiden role played, winking at Charlie again.
“’A scratch? Your arm’s off!’” Vanessa picked up the fake arm they used to practice placing IV’s which had been hidden under Aiden.
“’I’ve had worse. It’s just a flesh wound,’” Aiden said.
Vanessa faked CPR and feeling for Aiden’s pulse. “Sorry, this one’s dead.”
“’I’m not,’” he retorted.
“Yes, he is,” Vanessa got a sheet and covered Aiden. She tried not to crack up and dutifully went through a mishmash of lines fromMonty Python’s Search for the Holy Grail.
“’I’m getting better. I feel fine,’” Aiden protested, snatching at the sheet.
“’No, you don’t.’ Am I supposed to hit him with a club or something now?” Vanessa asked Elias.
Elias handed her his fluorescent yellow night club. “Make it count.”
Both teams roared with laughter.
The sole exception was Captain Williams, who exploded. “What the hell is this!”
Vanessa answered, “Monty Python.”
“This is an active shooter drill. It’s not a joke or a game. People will live or die by your training.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We got bored, and it seemed funny,” Vanessa said, likely emboldened by hitting on Charlie and seeing Williams’s set down.
“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Williams roared. “I don’t care if PD went along with you on this. You are my firefighters, and I expect you to take this seriously! People die in these shootings! People who were minding their own business! People bleed out on the floor if we don’t get there in time! How many times have you watched someone die in your hands because you didn’t move fast enough?”
At this point, Aiden sat up, his face pale white.
“I got the cake!” Carver proclaimed, innocently walking in through the back door with a large box, the clear window in the front displaying a four-tier chocolate cake frosted with pink words announcing ‘Jay-Z World Tour.’
Williams turned toward him, murder on his features, “You—”
“Fifteen-minute break, everyone,” the Chief announced hastily, adding to Carver, “That cake looks amazing.”
