Free Standoff by Sandra Brown

frantic young man had shrieked. "They promised us a doctor. Sabra needs a doctor."
    "Drop your weapon, Davison! Now!"
    "God dammit, all this time's been wasted." The veins in
    Doc's neck had bulged with anger. If the agent hadn't been holding a pistol, Tiel guessed that Doc would have taken him by the throat. "That girl's in trouble. Life
    threatening trouble. Don't any of you federal bastards get it?"
    "Ronnie, do as he says," Tiel had implored. "Surrender.
    Please."
    "No, Ronnie, don't!" Sabra had sobbed. "Daddy's out there."
    "Why don't you both put down your pistols." Although
    Doc's chest had been rising and falling with agitation, he had regained some composure. "Nobody has to get hurt.
    We can all be reasonable, can't we?"
    "No." Ronnie, resolute, had clutched the pistol grip tighter. "Mr. Dendy will have me arrested. I'll never see
    Sabra again."
    "He's right," the girl had said.
    "Maybe not," Doc had argued. "Maybe—"
    "I'm giving you to the count of three to drop your weapon!" Cain had shouted, his voice cracking. He, too, it seemed, was cracking under pressure.
    "Why'd you have to do this?" Ronnie had yelled at him.
    "One."
    "Why'd you trick us? My girlfriend is suffering. She needs a doctor. Why'd you do this?"
    Tiel hadn't liked the way Ronnie's index finger was tensing around the trigger.
    "Two."
    "I said no! I won't give her up to Mr. Dendy."
    Just as Cain had shouted "Three" and fired his pistol,
    Tiel grabbed a can of Wolf brand chili from the shelf nearest her and clouted him over the head with it.
    He had dropped like a sack of cement. His shot went wide of his target, which had been Ronnie's chest, but it came within a hair's-breadth of Doc before striking the counter.
    Reflexively Ronnie had fired his gun. The only damage
    that bullet did was to knock a chunk of plaster out of the far wall.
    Donna had screamed, hit the floor, and covered her head with her hands, then continued screaming.
    In the resulting confusion, the Mexican men had surged forward, nearly trampling Vern and Gladys in their haste.
    Tiel, realizing that they intended take the agent's pistol, had kicked it beneath a freezer chest out of reach.
    "Get back! Get back!" Ronnie had shouted at them. He fired again for emphasis, but aimed well above their heads. The bullet pinged into an air-conditioning vent, but it stopped their rush toward him.
    Now they all remained in a frozen tableau, waiting to see what happened next, who would be the first to move, to speak.
    It turned out to be Doc. "Do as he says," he ordered the two Mexicans. He held up his left hand, palm out, signaling them to move back. His right hand was clamped over his left shoulder. Blood leaked through his fingers.
    "You're shot!" Tiel exclaimed.
    Ignoring her, he reasoned with the two Mexican men, who were obviously reluctant to comply. "If you go charging through that door, you're liable to get a belly full of bullets."
    The language as well as the logic escaped them. They understood only Doc's insistence that they remain where they were. They rebuked him in rapid-fire Spanish. Tiel picked up the word madre several times. She could only imagine the rest. However, the two did as Doc asked and skulked back to their original positions, muttering to each other and throwing hostile glares all around. Ronnie kept his pistol trained on them.
    Donna was making more racket than Sabra, who was
    clenching her teeth to keep from crying out as a labor pain seized her. Doc ordered the cashier to stop making the god-awful noise.
    "I'm not gonna live to see morning," she wailed.
    "The way our luck's going, you probably will," Gladys snapped. "Now shut up."
    As though her mouth had been corked, Donna's crying ceased instantly.
    "Hang in there, sweetheart." Tiel had resumed her place at Sabra's side and was holding her hand through the contraction.
    "I knew…" Sabra paused to pant several times. "I knew
    Daddy wouldn't leave it alone. I knew he would track us down."
    "Don't think about him