Up in Flames (Firehouse Three Book 1)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Man, fuck you. I don’t have to listen to you.”

  Jesse glanced at the detonator, flashes of red drawing her attention.

  “Guys…” She swallowed.

  “Either you start the timer, or they will.” Oscar stared at Benjamin.

  “Guys!”

  “What, Jesse? What?” Oscar snapped.

  “The timer’s going…” She shook as the numbers counted down.

  Benjamin scrambled over her, peering at the timer, muttering curses.

  She was numb.

  Twenty-nine minutes left in her life.

  What could she do with twenty-nine minutes?

  “Oscar? Daddy?”

  The street was eerily silent.

  “Mary?” Oscar’s arms went slack.

  Jesse sat down hard on the metal floor of the van.

  “Don’t listen to them, Oscar. It’s a trick,” Benjamin said. “I can’t believe they shot me! What are we going to do about the timer?”

  What the hell did Benjamin think the cops were going to do, when faced with an armed person driving a bomb? Throw rose petals?

  “Daddy, come home,” the little girl’s voice pleaded.

  Oscar’s face went white, his jaw slack.

  How had they gotten his daughter there? Was she there? Jesse couldn’t see her, but Oscar believed Mary was there.

  “Hear that, Oscar? That’s your baby girl. Now, I’d like to tell her that her dad’s going to be okay tonight, but the ball is in your court.” Arthur’s tone was easy. Friendly. “I’m going to call your cell phone, Oscar. I’d appreciate it if you’d answer.”

  There were tears in Oscar’s eyes. He’d always been a softy where his kids were concerned. He was the kind of guy who had their picture taped to the dash of his truck, and more in his wallet.

  “Don’t do it, man. Don’t do it.” Benjamin made a reach for Oscar, but he batted the other man’s hand away.

  Oscar moved into the passenger side seat, in clear view of the cops and everyone else. His phone rang. And rang. He stared at it, face slack, eyes a little unfocused. What wrongs had he thought he could right this way? Jesse couldn’t get it, but then again she’d never been in a situation like his.

  How much pain had he been in?

  His world must have crumbled for him to see this as the only way out.

  Being angry with her brothers made her want to do…something. But not like this. She wouldn’t hurt people. What happened to make someone do that kind of thing?

  “Oscar…” Benjamin glared at his accomplice. “Don’t do it. You give up on us, you know the boss’s guys. They’ll come after your family. You get out of this van, they’ll blow it up. They won’t wait.”

  Oscar answered the phone. He didn’t say anything, he just pressed it to his ear and stared out of the window, toward the detective.

  For several long moments no one spoke. Nothing moved. Not a soul stirred. She could hear the muted sounds of voices from Oscar’s cell, but the man never said a word in return. He covered his face and wiped at his eyes once.

  Who would go after Oscar’s family?

  Had someone put them up to this?

  Arthur had mentioned a group. He suspected Benjamin of being part of it. Were they behind this? Were they manipulating Oscar into helping them? Who was their boss?

  Something had happened in Oscar’s home life, with his wife and children. Something bad. And none of them had seen it. She felt awful she hadn’t realized something was going on. He hadn’t mentioned his kids to her in…ages. If she had realized…. If she had known… Maybe she could have stopped it before it got this far. But what kind of event could set off a series of actions like this? And what kind of people would do something like this?

  “I’m coming out.” Oscar popped the passenger side door.

  Take me with you…

  “No, wait!” Benjamin reached for Oscar, snatching his shirt, leaving long, bloody finger prints, but Oscar shrugged out of Benjamin’s hold and was out, on the ground face-down before Benjamin could get a better grasp.

  The cops swarmed, hauling Oscar off behind the barricades.

  “Shit. God damn it. Mother fucker.” Benjamin strung together every curse word he could in the span of a single breath.

  As angry and hurt as Oscar had appeared, he wasn’t the one that scared her. And now she was alone with Benjamin.

  Twenty-five minutes.

  Jesse huddled across the van from him, trying to make herself as small as possible.

  She didn’t have to be a cop to recognize the fact that Benjamin was backed into a corner and likely to do something stupid. He’d excelled at spectacular fuck-ups as a kid.

  “Benjamin Salazar?” Arthur said over the loudspeaker.

  “Fuck you,” Benjamin bellowed back.

  Jesse winced.

  “I just want to know if Jesse Durcell is okay. That’s it. Let her tell us she’s okay.”

  “What about me?” Benjamin muttered. He speared her with his gaze. “Tell them you’re fine.”

  “I-I’m fine,” she said, pitching her voice louder.

  “Jesse? That you?” Arthur asked. “Benjamin, I’m going to call Jesse’s cell phone. We’ve turned it on remotely. I’d like to talk to you, too.”

  “Fuck off,” Benjamin yelled back.

  Jesse’s phone rang and though she knew it was coming, she still jumped.

  “What the fuck?” Benjamin reached over and yanked it out of her hands. “Oscar was supposed to take that away from you. It was you. You did this!”

  He pointed the gun at her.

  She huddled down farther.

  He was going to kill her, and then detonate this bomb. Lots of people were going to die, and it would be her fault. And then she’d never get to knock her brother’s skulls together or hug her dogs or…or…or tell Hunter she was in love with him…

  18.

  “This isn’t going well.”

  Hunter didn’t need Arthur to tell him that one.

  The cops couldn’t use less lethal forms of disarming the suspect because of the bomb. Too much heat, a spark, hell, just jostling it and the whole thing could blow. Hunter knew the basics enough that he could identify a shit situation.

  Hunter had walked the perimeter while Arthur made contact with Oscar. From the back he could see enough of the bomb to know this was bigger than they were prepared for. It’d do massive damage to anyone in the blast zone.

  They were in a showdown now.

  Benjamin wasn’t answering Jesse’s phone. The cops had zero form of contact with the man, and that couldn’t be good. Hunter had been on the sidelines of enough barricaded persons to know the signs of a bad situation. This? By far one of the worst.

  “He wants something, right?” Hunter turned toward Arthur.

  “I…don’t know for sure. Oscar isn’t talking.”

  “What’s Justin’s number?” Hunter pulled out his phone.

  Something clattered onto the pavement.

  Hunter squinted at it.

  Jesse’s phone.

  God damn it.

  “What’s Justin’s number?” he asked again.

  Arthur handed his phone over and Hunter dialed. Chances were the brothers weren’t even aware of what was going on. Unless Jesse had texted them as well, and then they’d probably have the whole Durcell crew on site soon.

  “Justin speaking.”

  “Justin, it’s Hunter.”

  Silence.

  “Is Nick there? I need to talk to him. It’s important. It’s about Jesse.”

  “I don’t see a reason to—”

  “Nick’s cousin has Jesse at gunpoint in a van with a bomb the size of a small car. Is Nicholas there?”

  Justin sputtered something. Voices in the background grew louder then faded.

  “This is Nick.” He sounded…defeated. Resigned. “What’s Ben done now?”

  Hunter quickly related the bare bones to Nicholas, plugging one ear to block out Arthur’s continu
ed attempts to communicate with the other Salazar since he wouldn’t answer his phone.

  “Are you serious?” Nicholas asked when Hunter was finished.

  “Can you hear the cops?”

  “Yeah. Christ. Okay—Ben’s mom was deported. She was an illegal immigrant, which meant his dad went through hell raising Ben and his brothers. It wasn’t…things weren’t good. Ben made a lot of stupid mistakes he’s going to pay for for the rest of his life. He’s always said the system was out to get him, that he’d make someone pay someday for taking his mom away. Christ.”

  “And you think they’re the kinds of things he’d blow himself up over?”

  “No. Ben…he’d make someone else do it. He’s pretty spineless. Is…is Jesse okay?”

  “We’ll see. I’ll call you back.”

  Hunter ended the call and returned to Arthur, relating Nicholas’ take on everything.

  “And Oscar’s soon-to-be ex-wife was using the system against him. We’ve already got her with two patrol officers and another detective working on a timeline.” Arthur grimaced. “Two men unhappy with how they’ve been treated. Shit.”

  “How can we get Jesse out of there?” Hunter asked. He knew his place wasn’t here, in the middle of hostage negotiations, but no one had said a word about making him leave either. Until they did, Hunter was one hundred percent involved.

  “We’ve got snipers on him, but there’s no guarantee they won’t set off the bomb. They weren’t supposed to fire in the first place.” Arthur glanced up to where the one sniper had squeezed off a shot. “Gas isn’t an option because there’s a one in ten chance the canister could spark. We can wait him out, but what happens when he gets jumpy and decides to make a statement?” Arthur shook his head.

  “Can you trade someone for Jesse? Like…me?”

  Arthur shook his head.

  It was a crazy suggestion, and far too likely they’d just be handing Benjamin two hostages instead of one. Still, Hunter had to suggest it.

  “We need a doctor,” a woman’s voice called out from the van.

  Jesse.

  Arthur stared at Hunter.

  Hunter stared at Arthur.

  “Oscar said Jesse was fine when he got out of the van,” Arthur said.

  “But Benjamin got shot. Send me in.”

  “No, we’ll send one of our officers in.”

  “No, Arthur. Think about it.” Hunter wasn’t proud of his past. He’d made his share of stupid mistakes, but he’d straightened out his act. Which put him in a unique place to understand Benjamin a little. “This guy? He knows what cops look like. He’s been in and out of the system his whole life getting into trouble. He’ll spot one and then what?”

  Where Benjamin just went further off the rails, Hunter had sorted himself out. Of course, Drake hadn’t given him many options. In the grand scheme of things, Drake and the pseudo family Hunter had with them had won over, and set him on the course to becoming a firefighter. To being here. Finding Jesse. He wasn’t going to let someone take her from him.

  Arthur grimaced and glanced away. There was no denying that anyone they had on hand could be easily made for a cop and then the body count would start.

  “Does Benjamin know you?” Arthur asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of. I know Jesse. I will be able to tell if something is wrong.”

  “Hunter, this is stupid.”

  “You got a better plan?”

  Arthur signed.

  “Detective Long?” Jesse yelled.

  “Fuck.” Arthur turned and waved at an officer. “Get him a shirt and a bag. Cover those tattoos, just in case.”

  Hunter bolted after the officer. His luck was strong today. The ambulance closest had a familiar face on duty. Hunter traded shirts with Spencer, who was of a similar enough size and build that they could swap clothes. The officer’s had a tiny microphone, the size of a pin head, attached to his collar so they could listen in on what was being said without tipping Benjamin off. Hopefully. In less than five minutes, Hunter was outfitted with a bullet-proof vest, an EMT uniform and a med kit.

  “Benjamin, Jesse, I’m sending someone in to help, okay? We just want to get everyone home today.” Arthur paused a moment, then when no one answered, he gestured for Hunter to go forward.

  He wasn’t trained for this, hell, Hunter was probably the worst person for the job, but it wasn’t like anyone except Benjamin and Oscar had planned on this today.

  Hunter walked the thirty or so feet toward the van. It wasn’t until he was ten feet away that he noticed the passenger seat had been pushed forward and the muzzle of a hand gun was barely visible.

  Chills skated down his spine.

  No one had ever pointed a gun at him before.

  If this guy was ready to point a gun at him, what had he done to Jesse? What was he willing to do?

  “My name’s Hunter. Benjamin, I’m coming around the back of the van.” He held up his hands, bag dangling from his fingers, and slowly stepped around to the back of the vehicle.

  Hunter nearly swallowed his tongue.

  The bomb was two big plastic barrels roped together, with wires and pipes coming out of it. The detonator sat on top of a five gallon bucket with C4 taped to the outside. It looked…like no bomb he’d ever seen in training or the movies. Still, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out how to attach a detonator to some plastic explosives and set the whole thing off. There were hundreds of tutorials online.

  Benjamin sat with his back against the passenger seat where he could look out the front, side and rear of the vehicle. Jesse sat in front of him, the man’s bloodied arm wrapped around her shoulders. She stared at him, her eyes pleading for him to do…something.

  “Your shirt. Show me your shirt.” Benjamin’s voice was strained. He pointed the gun at Hunter at least, and not Jesse.

  “Okay, okay. I’m just going to set my bag down.” Hunter placed the med bag on the ground then untucked his shirt and turned in a complete circle, showing Benjamin that he wasn’t carrying any kind of a weapon. “I just want to take a look at that wound, okay? Jesse, right? How you doing? You okay?”

  “Get in here.” Benjamin waved the gun. “Now, man.”

  Hunger grabbed the bag and crawled into the back of the van. This time of year, it was an oven inside the metal vehicle. Which created another issue.

  C4 could sweat. Hunter didn’t know how fast it happened, only that it could literally sweat nitroglycerine and become increasingly less stable. Jesse would know better than him.

  Was that why she looked so pale?

  “Jesse, you okay?” Hunter asked again.

  She nodded.

  “I’m the one who got shot, dick bag.” Benjamin pushed Jesse roughly to the side and sat forward, the gun trained on Hunter’s chest.

  This close, if the gun went off there was a good chance the vest wouldn’t do shit for him. There was also the risk of setting off the explosives.

  “I’m going to—”

  “Stay right there.” Benjamin scooted halfway down the vehicle.

  Hunter shifted, pivoting forty-five degrees.

  The longer this dragged on, the more dangerous this was going to be for Jesse and everyone else.

  He’d been tasked with coming in here, assessing the situation, but the way he saw it, they had to act before much longer, or their decisions would be made for them.

  Now or never.

  Hunter grabbed Benjamin by the wrist and hauled the smaller man straight out of the van, onto the asphalt. He landed on top of Benjamin, driving both knees in the man’s back and tightening his grip around the gun hand. Benjamin’s fingers slipped, likely due to all the blood and the gun clattered to the pavement. He bucked and thrashed for a second, but Hunter had at least twenty pounds on the man.

  “It burns! Fuck, man, get off me,” Benjamin howled.

  The Texas pavement could be at temperatures in excess of a hundred and forty.

  The closest cops rushed forward and the crowd
seemed to exhale.

  It was over.

  They were safe.

  Hunter pushed to his feet and turned toward the van.

  Jesse’s eyes were wide. She hadn’t moved. Hunter put his foot on the bumper.

  “It’s—”

  “Don’t, Hunter! Don’t come any closer!” She held out her hands and the new, chunky jewelry drew not just Hunter’s attention, but everyone else around them.

  “Back, everyone, back away from the van,” one of the closest cops said.

  Hunter knelt at the bumper, gripping the van with both hands.

  When had that happened?

  “Hunter, please? Please, leave.” Jesse squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out of the side.

  “Sir,” the same cop grasped Hunter by the arm, “sir, you have to—”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Hunter jerked out of the man’s grasp and stared at Jesse. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jesse wanted to scream, to flail, to do something, but she couldn’t. She had no idea what kind of thing Benjamin had attached to her wrist. Everyone needed to get out of here. There was possibly no saving her, and it was time to accept that.

  “Hunter…”

  “I’m not leaving you, sweetheart.” He was still kneeling at the back of the van, staring at her in a way that just about broke her heart.

  “Bomb squad is on the other side of downtown.” Detective Arthur Long stopped a good fifteen feet away. That was the closest anyone besides Hunter was willing to come. “They’re stuck until we finish evacuating downtown.”

  “The timer only has ten more minutes on it.” Hunter twisted to glance over his shoulder.

  “I know,” Arthur replied.

  “Do something,” Hunter pleaded.

  “I’m doing all I can do.”

  “Can you get them here faster? This is an emergency.”

  Jesse sucked down a breath. One thing Oscar and Benjamin had done well was picking the right spot to attack. All the support personnel were across downtown to man the rally. If she hadn’t alerted Hunter and the others, they could have driven the van into the heart of the crowd.

  “Jesse? Jesse look at me, please?”

  She opened her eyes and met Hunter’s anguished gaze.

  “We’re going to get you out of there, got me?” He was so sure, so passionate.