"I need you to back off!" Spittle flies from his mouth. "All of you! Get back or I swear to God?—"
"Okay. Okay, we're backing up." I raise my hands, take two steps back. Behind me, the tactical team shifts, but they hold position. Good. "See? We're giving you space. Now tell me what you need to make this right."
Through my earpiece, my partner Baker's voice:"Harlow, HRT has the shot. Green light whenever you're ready."
I don't acknowledge. Can't. Daniel's twitchy enough without seeing me talk to voices he can't hear.
"I just wanted the money." Daniel's voice cracks. "The money. That's all. But she had to press the button, call you people?—"
"I know. I know it wasn't supposed to go like this." I edge closer, just inches. "But here's the thing, Daniel. You haven't hurt anyone yet. This is still fixable."
"Fixable?" He laughs, high and broken. "I'm going to prison."
"Maybe. But prison's better than dead. And that woman you're holding? She's got two kids at home. A husband. They need her to come home tonight. You can make that happen."
Something shifts in his face. The gun wavers.
"Harlow, subject is showing signs of agitation. Recommend you pull back."
I ignore Baker. I'm close now. Close enough to see the tears tracking down Daniel's face. Close enough to make this work.
"Let her go, Daniel. Put the gun down. We'll talk this through. I promise."
His arm loosens around the hostage's throat. The gun drops an inch.
That's when everything goes to hell.
The hostage jerks, trying to break free. Daniel panics, gun swinging wild. The tactical team sees the threat and moves.
"Wait—" I start, but it's too late.
Gunfire cracks through the store like thunder. One shot. Two. Daniel goes down.
The hostage screams and runs. Safe. She's safe.
But something's wrong.
I turn, and Baker is on the ground. Blood spreading across his vest, too high. Neck shot. Arterial spray painting the concrete.
"Officer down! Officer down!"
I'm moving before my brain catches up, dropping to my knees beside him. My hands go to his throat, trying to stop the bleeding that won't stop. Can't stop.
"Baker, stay with me. Medic! I need a medic!"
His hand finds mine. Squeezes once.
"Not..." His voice is wet, bubbling. "Your fault."
Then nothing.
Those warm brown eyes that smiled at me over coffee this morning, that promised we'd talk about the future after this case closed—they go fixed. Staring past me at nothing.
The light just stops.
Medics swarm. They pull me away. Someone wraps a blanket around my shoulders. Someone else guides me to an ambulance.
The review board meets three days later. Justified shoot. Daniel's gun discharged when he went down. Ricochet caught Baker in the throat. One bullet in the wrong place at the worst possible moment.
