Crossfire. B.J. Daniels

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СКАЧАТЬ his green eyes. Not this morning though.

      Flint felt the full weight of his gaze. He waited, growing more worried by the moment. Something had happened, that much was clear. And it wasn’t something Flint was going to like.

      “Flint, you and I have discussed at length my idea to put a paramedic on the SWAT team,” Max said after a moment.

      Flint looked at him in surprise. This was what Max wanted to talk about? He relaxed a little. “And you know how I feel about it.”

      Max sighed. “As you know, we had a court reporter, Lorraine Nelson, who suffered a heart attack during that shooting incident back in September. She lived, but suffered extensive damage to her heart and was forced to retire because of it. If the fire department’s paramedics could have gotten to her quicker, maybe she would have had a full recovery. George Yube died after the sniper shot him. Same story there. Had he gotten help faster, he might be alive today.” Max took a breath and let it out with a sigh. “The way it is now, we can’t get the victims any help until the area is secured. That’s not acceptable.”

      “It’s not acceptable to send a paramedic into a dangerous situation until it is secured,” Flint said. “Otherwise you’re risking the paramedic’s life or simply offering the criminals another hostage. The bottom line is, we end up having another person to try to protect, as well as the victims, when our main priority is to stop the bad guy before he hurts anyone else.”

      “I’ve taken all that into consideration,” Max said.

      “Have you forgotten that the last time we let a paramedic in with the team, the paramedic almost got killed?”

      “That paramedic wasn’t SWAT trained.”

      Flint shook his head in frustration and shifted in his chair. “Why are we discussing this again? You already know my feelings on this subject and I know yours. How long are we going to debate this?”

      Max tented his fingers under his chin, his gaze suddenly steely. “I didn’t ask you here to try to convince you. Or to ask for your approval.”

      Flint felt his heart drop. “I see. Well, if your mind is made up, then why get me in here so damned early?” He swore under his breath as he rose to his feet. “You’re obviously moving ahead with this no matter how I feel.”

      “Sit down, Flint.”

      Flint dropped back into the chair with a sigh.

      “I agree with all your arguments,” Max said quietly. “It is a risk, but one that I feel has to be taken for the victim’s sake.”

      There was no talking Max out of this. Flint could see that now. “We have a couple of SWAT members with paramedic training who might be interested in the position, I suppose.”

      Max shook his head. “I’ve found a paramedic with SWAT training and experience in situations we’ve been forced to deal with and some we haven’t yet.”

      “Really?” Flint couldn’t hide his surprise. “So when does he start?” He knew his men weren’t going to like this any more than he did. This guy better be flat amazing.

      There was a knock at the door. Max glanced at his watch. “The new SWAT team paramedic is here now, early, just like you were,” Max said with a wry smile as he got to his feet to answer the knock personally.

      Flint turned in his chair as Max opened the door. He felt as if a Magnum .45 had been emptied into his chest when he saw the tall, slim figure framed in the doorway. He staggered to his feet, his brain telling him it was a mistake. Dear God, this couldn’t be the SWAT team paramedic.

      7:15 a.m.

      LORNA SINKE LOVED to get to city hall before anyone else. She lived in the older section of town, close enough to city hall that she walked to work. She liked the fresh air, the exercise and the quiet. There were few people on the streets and traffic was light this time of the morning.

      She was a creature of habit, leaving her house every weekday morning at the same time. This morning was no different. Only today, she carried more than her usual lunch and thermos of coffee. Today, she had the cookies in the airtight container in her bag. They made a thumping sound as she walked, reminding her of what she planned to do before the day was over.

      City hall came into view, the white-stone, three-story building shimmering in the bright blue morning. Lorna always experienced a sense of pride when she saw it. She loved the inside even more, with its ornate moldings and high ceilings.

      Some people thought the old city hall building was cold and a waste of space, too much like a tomb, but Lorna loved it. A few years ago there was talk of tearing city hall down and building something modern. Over her dead body, Lorna had declared. After all the years she’d worked here, she felt as if it were her building. Fortunately the historical society had saved it. Lorna had led the charge—and made a few enemies along the way, including Councilwoman Gwendolyn Clark.

      But that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to her problems with the councilwoman. Gwendolyn Clark was on a mission to get Lorna fired, saying it was time that Lorna retired and the council got some “new blood” in the position. Over Lorna’s dead body.

      Crossing Washington Avenue, she walked down Robbin Street around to the employee entrance at the rear of city hall. Kitty-corner across the intersection of Bright and 12th streets, she caught a glimpse of the police department. She’d been taken there for questioning after her parents’ deaths. The building was new and impersonal, nothing like city hall. She was glad the city had put up a tall oleander hedge along the back of city hall that hid the newer buildings. Especially the police station. The sight of it only brought back bad memories and Lorna Sinke wasn’t one to dwell in the past.

      As she walked through a narrow entrance in the oleander hedge, she stopped to pick up a candy wrapper someone had irresponsibly dropped. Muttering to herself, she stuffed the candy wrapper into her bag and pulled out the key she kept on her kitten key ring.

      Her mind was on the day ahead and the outcome. She felt a ripple of excitement. If this day ended the way she’d planned it, she would be free of Gwendolyn Clark.

      As Lorna inserted the key into the lock, she sensed someone approaching from behind but didn’t bother to turn around. Blast the woman to hell. Gwendolyn Clark had taken it upon herself to come in at the same time as Lorna every morning for the past two weeks. The councilwoman was spying on her. Gwendolyn said she was working on a special project. Lorna knew she was that special project. The woman was trying to dig up some dirt, something she could use to get rid of Lorna.

      It was all she could do not to turn around and hit the woman with the heavy bag. Of course she wouldn’t do that. She did her best not to let Gwendolyn see how she felt about her. That alone had become a full-time job and one of the reasons Lorna had decided today she’d do something about the councilwoman.

      Lorna turned the key in the lock, planning to say hello to Gwendolyn, pretending, as she had been for weeks, that she didn’t suspect what the woman was up to. Today she would be especially nice to her. It would make it easier later this afternoon when Lorna offered her one of her special cookies. If there was one thing Gwendolyn Clark couldn’t pass up, it was sweets.

      As the door swung open, Lorna plastered a smile on her face and turned, expecting to see Gwendolyn Clark’s round, pinched face and disapproving gaze.

      To Lorna’s СКАЧАТЬ