to explain it all. Halloway's physical and mental conditions are deteriorating. I don't know how much longer he's got before he loses it completely. But when he does, he's going to take Feeney with him."
"Sharpshooters are in position. They can take him out using an on-screen visual."
"One stun and he's dead. That's what happened with Cogburn. Halloway's still a badge, Commander. And what he's done, what he's doing is not within his control. I want the chance to take him alive."
"You go in," the negotiator said, "and three cops die."
"Or live. I can tranq him. He's in serious pain. If the meds are there, he'll want them. Commander, Feeney trained me, he brought me up. I need to go in."
Whitney stared into her eyes. "Talk him into it. Make it fast."
It took her precious moments of bargaining, but she fell into the rhythm of groveling. That, she realized, was what he needed. Not just to be acknowledged as being in charge, but to be shown absolute subservience.
"He could very well fire on you the minute you're in the door." Roarke spoke softly as she waited for the MTs to prepare the medications and pressure syringes.
"He could."
"But you go in without a vest, without a weapon."
"That was the deal. I know what I'm doing."
"You know what you have to do. There's a subtle and dangerous difference. Eve." He laid a hand on her arm. It took everything inside him not to yank her clear of the room. Get her away. "I know what he means to you. Remember what you mean to me."
"I'm not likely to forget it."
"McNab's condition is serious. He took a hard hit at close range. The MTs were guarded, but he came around briefly before they transported him. It's a good sign."
"Okay." She couldn't think about McNab. Couldn't worry about him now.
"Three others were injured before Halloway grabbed Feeney and used him as a shield into the office. I'd like to know, just for curiosity's sake, how one man takes out four other cops without taking a single hit."
"Jesus, Roarke, this is EDD. Half the cops in here are glorified drones or geeks. You're more likely to see them pulling out an e-pad than a weapon."
"Lieutenant." The MT approached with a clear bag of meds. "Set these up like you wanted. Syringe with the red dot on the depressor's the tranq. Takes a man down in under five seconds. Second's the dummy. Nothing but a mild blocker. Pills are standard blockers, except for the one with the little yellow stripe. That's another tranq. You get him to use either of those, he's down pretty fast. Five seconds."
"Okay, got it. Back in a few minutes," she told Roarke.
"See that you are." And because he didn't give a damn at the moment about her much-prized rep, he yanked her against him and kissed her.
"Jeez. Save it, will you?" But it warmed her, steadied her as she walked over to the 'link and put through the next transmission. "I got your meds, sir." She held up the bag. "Pain blockers, oral and bloodstream. The MT informs me that the syringe will clear up the infection, and take care of your headache fairly quickly."
She held her arms up, turned a slow circle. "I'm not carrying. I know you're in control. I just want to give you what you need to resolve this situation to your satisfaction."
"Damn skippy." He swiped at the blood leaking out of his nose again. He was rocking, rocking, back and forth on his heels as if to soothe away the pain. His sandy hair was standing in mad tufts where he'd yanked at it. Sweat and blood had soaked through the top of his cheery green jumpsuit.
"Come on in, Dallas." His mouth moved into a terrible grin as he levered his weapon under Feeney's jaw again. "I'm going to show you just what I need to resolve this situation to my satisfaction. Keep that 'link open."
He paused, hissed out a breath, then rammed the heel of his free hand against his eye. "Keep that visual so I can see you all the way to the door. Anybody tries to pass you a weapon, this old man is over. Keep your hands up, keep them up where I can
"Sharpshooters are in position. They can take him out using an on-screen visual."
"One stun and he's dead. That's what happened with Cogburn. Halloway's still a badge, Commander. And what he's done, what he's doing is not within his control. I want the chance to take him alive."
"You go in," the negotiator said, "and three cops die."
"Or live. I can tranq him. He's in serious pain. If the meds are there, he'll want them. Commander, Feeney trained me, he brought me up. I need to go in."
Whitney stared into her eyes. "Talk him into it. Make it fast."
It took her precious moments of bargaining, but she fell into the rhythm of groveling. That, she realized, was what he needed. Not just to be acknowledged as being in charge, but to be shown absolute subservience.
"He could very well fire on you the minute you're in the door." Roarke spoke softly as she waited for the MTs to prepare the medications and pressure syringes.
"He could."
"But you go in without a vest, without a weapon."
"That was the deal. I know what I'm doing."
"You know what you have to do. There's a subtle and dangerous difference. Eve." He laid a hand on her arm. It took everything inside him not to yank her clear of the room. Get her away. "I know what he means to you. Remember what you mean to me."
"I'm not likely to forget it."
"McNab's condition is serious. He took a hard hit at close range. The MTs were guarded, but he came around briefly before they transported him. It's a good sign."
"Okay." She couldn't think about McNab. Couldn't worry about him now.
"Three others were injured before Halloway grabbed Feeney and used him as a shield into the office. I'd like to know, just for curiosity's sake, how one man takes out four other cops without taking a single hit."
"Jesus, Roarke, this is EDD. Half the cops in here are glorified drones or geeks. You're more likely to see them pulling out an e-pad than a weapon."
"Lieutenant." The MT approached with a clear bag of meds. "Set these up like you wanted. Syringe with the red dot on the depressor's the tranq. Takes a man down in under five seconds. Second's the dummy. Nothing but a mild blocker. Pills are standard blockers, except for the one with the little yellow stripe. That's another tranq. You get him to use either of those, he's down pretty fast. Five seconds."
"Okay, got it. Back in a few minutes," she told Roarke.
"See that you are." And because he didn't give a damn at the moment about her much-prized rep, he yanked her against him and kissed her.
"Jeez. Save it, will you?" But it warmed her, steadied her as she walked over to the 'link and put through the next transmission. "I got your meds, sir." She held up the bag. "Pain blockers, oral and bloodstream. The MT informs me that the syringe will clear up the infection, and take care of your headache fairly quickly."
She held her arms up, turned a slow circle. "I'm not carrying. I know you're in control. I just want to give you what you need to resolve this situation to your satisfaction."
"Damn skippy." He swiped at the blood leaking out of his nose again. He was rocking, rocking, back and forth on his heels as if to soothe away the pain. His sandy hair was standing in mad tufts where he'd yanked at it. Sweat and blood had soaked through the top of his cheery green jumpsuit.
"Come on in, Dallas." His mouth moved into a terrible grin as he levered his weapon under Feeney's jaw again. "I'm going to show you just what I need to resolve this situation to my satisfaction. Keep that 'link open."
He paused, hissed out a breath, then rammed the heel of his free hand against his eye. "Keep that visual so I can see you all the way to the door. Anybody tries to pass you a weapon, this old man is over. Keep your hands up, keep them up where I can
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