by Susan Stoker
Tony ran toward the doors to the gym, while Aimee ran toward the children closest to the doors. She didn’t dare risk using her whistle to get the attention of the thirty-six or so children in the room. She took the arms of two students and hissed under her breath to the others nearby. “Quickly, everyone to the other side of the gym where the lockers are. Come on, now.”
The kids must have heard the urgency in her voice, because they didn’t even complain that their playtime was being interrupted.
“John, Mark, please help me round up the rest of the kids,” Aimee asked two of the fourth-graders. They immediately nodded and ran to the end of the obstacle course to corral those children to where she wanted them.
Aimee risked a glance up at Tony. He was standing at the doors, trying to figure out how they locked. Pushing a child toward the others, Aimee took the time to run over to Tony.
“They don’t lock,” she told him breathlessly.
“What?”
“They don’t lock,” Aimee repeated. “I mean, they do, but I use a chain and a padlock when I leave for the day. They’re in my office in the locker room.”
“Dammit.”
Aimee nodded, understanding his angst. If the doors couldn’t lock, they were sitting ducks for anyone who wanted to come inside. Tony put his hand on her shoulder for a moment and looked down at her. “You know what we’re dealing with?”
“No,” Aimee returned immediately. “But I do know those were gunshots. I’d recognize them anywhere.” She took a long look at Tony’s face. He was a bit pale, and she could see he was gritting his teeth. “Are you okay? Is this bringing back bad memories?”
“Shit, you’re too damn observant. No, this isn’t bringing back good thoughts, but I’m fine. We need to protect these kids.”
“Yeah.” Aimee spun to head back across the gym floor toward the kids, who were now gathered together looking confused. She grabbed Tony’s hand and held on as they crossed the gym floor to get to the students.
She kept her voice low as she plotted with Tony, but the urgency came through loud and clear. “We need to treat this like a game. A serious game, but a game, nonetheless. We need to hide them. I don’t know if whoever is shooting will make it here or not, but we have to assume they will.”
“Where are you gonna hide them? There aren’t too many places in here,” Tony asked, looking around as they hurried toward the children who appeared extremely worried now. He kept his hand in hers and held on tight.
“In the lockers. It’s not ideal, but they’re big. I think we can get two kids in each,” Aimee told Tony quickly. They’d reached the children by that time and she didn’t bother wasting any time seeing if he agreed with her or not. It was a moot point. There literally was no other place to hide all the kids. They couldn’t sneak them out of the gym and it had to be done now.
“Okay kids, here’s the deal,” Aimee told the frightened students. “There are bad guys in the school, and we need to play hide-and-seek so they can’t find us. Remember how we had that police guy come and talk to everyone earlier this year, and he told us all what to do in case of an emergency? It’s time to put into practice what you learned that day. I want you to stay with your buddy, and each pair is going to hide inside a locker. You can’t make any noise. Not at all. Understand?”
Just then, gunshots sounded again, closer this time. The students obviously heard them, because their eyes got big and some of the younger children started to cry.
Aimee knew this wasn’t ideal. There was no way the kids could deal with this like they needed to, but she didn’t have time to second guess her decision or to try to reassure them further. It sucked, but it was for their own good. She just hoped they didn’t turn out to be degenerates later in life because of the memory of being shut inside a small space while they were scared. Better them scared inside the lockers, and staying undetected, than facing down a lunatic, or lunatics, with a gun and dying in a hail of gunfire.
“Come on, in you go.” Aimee wished she could take more time to comfort the kids, but by the sounds of the shots, they didn’t have any extra time. She went down the line, shutting two kids into each locker. They had to stand, and it was a tight fit, but the important thing was that they did fit. Tony’s students were obviously scared, but the older students were taking their job of looking after the younger kid entrusted to their care seriously, and it was helping both groups deal with the terrifying situation. Most had their arms around each other before they were shut inside the lockers.
She noticed that Tony listened to her instructions before helping secure the students. She tried to give each pair a pep talk, with last-minute instructions, before closing the locker door on them.
“You’re being very brave and I’m so proud of you both. No matter what you hear, do not make a sound. Don’t bang on the door, try not to sneeze or cough. You can cry, but not too loudly. This will be a great trick we play on the bad guys, yeah? I’ll come and let you out when we’ve won. I promise not to leave you in here a second longer than you need to be. Okay?”
Every pair of kids looked up at her with trusting eyes and nodded seriously. Aimee’s heart almost broke when a little girl named Shamekia looked up at her with tears and snot running down her face and whispered, “Miss O’Brien, is Mr. Santoro gonna get rid of the bad guys?”
She controlled herself, barely, and whispered back, “Of course he is, sweetie, just be quiet like a mouse and before you know it, Mr. Santoro and I will be letting you out. Okay?”
The little girl nodded solemnly, taking Aimee at her word. She was a trusted adult and Shamekia, and all the other kids, had the utmost faith that their teachers would make this right for them.
Aimee wished there was an outside door or window she could usher the kids out of, as the officers who ran the active-shooter training suggested, but the locker-rooms only led to the hallway, which seemed to be a dangerous exit point when she didn’t know exactly what was happening outside the gym or how many shooters there were. When Aimee closed the locker door on the last the pair of children—thank God a kid was absent so they had an even number—she turned to stare at Tony.
He looked just as shell-shocked as she was. “Come on, let’s get away from the lockers,” Tony ordered, holding out his hand. “We don’t want to give their location away to anyone who might come in here. And if we’re standing here guarding them, that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
Aimee didn’t even hesitate. She grabbed hold of his hand again and allowed him to tow her across the room to the bleachers. They stood next to the bottom row and waited, hands still clenched together, facing the doors.
“Do you think we should hide or try to hold the doors shut?” Aimee whispered.
Tony shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. If someone comes tries to come in, I don’t think we could necessarily hold the doors shut and make whoever it is think they’re locked. And if someone does come in here, we don’t want him, or her or them, to get nosy and start looking around.”
“But if we’re not visible, and neither are the kids, maybe he’ll take one look inside and figure the gym is empty,” Aimee argued, playing Devil’s Advocate.
“Maybe, but are you willing to bet those kids’ lives and take that chance?”
Aimee sighed, knowing Tony was right. “No.”
He turned to her and pulled her into his embrace, obviously needing the intimate contact. They stood there silent for a beat before Tony said, “You did good, Aimee. You didn’t hesitate to take action. You made a decision and went with it. I can see now why you didn’t do more than four years in the Army. I bet you were a crap enlisted soldier, but you would’ve made a good officer.”
“I’m scared,” Aimee admitted, not responding to his compliment, too freaked out by what they’d done with the students and the unknown situation they were in.
“I know, believe it or not, I am too. But you pushed through it and you still did what had to be done.” He eased back and put his finger under he
r chin so she had to look at him. “I’ve seen career soldiers who haven’t acted as well as you have under pressure. I’m so damn proud of you, I can’t even tell you. I’ve been attracted to you for months, and you’ve just proven that what I thought about you has been right. Aimee, I’m going to do what I can to make sure we all get out of this. All right?”
“I’m not ready to die.”
“Neither am I. I didn’t live through all those missions to die this way. We’ll do what we can to help each other and get through this. Yeah?”
Aimee had just nodded when the door to the gym burst open and a man wearing a long black coat, holding two handguns, burst inside the gym as if the hounds of hell were on his heels.
Chapter Five
Jones was relaxing in his hotel room, hands behind his head, stretched out on the bed, not paying any attention to the show on the television but liking the background noise, when his cell rang. Reaching over to the bedside table, he picked it up and answered.
“Jones.”
“It’s Grey. There’s a situation. You’re still in Killeen, right?”
Jones sat up straight on the bed, knowing if his boss was calling him and getting right to the point, something big was happening. “Yes. What’s up?”
“Active shooter at Gerry Linkous Elementary School, on Fourth and Main. Reports are that there’s only one, but information is sketchy.”
“I’m on my way,” Jones told Grey without hesitation, already moving around his hotel room, collecting his pistol and identification. “Who should I report to?”
“Athena’s been in communication with a Captain May. It’s a long story of how she knew about what’s going down there, but it involves a buddy who lives in San Antonio who used to be a Delta. She worked with him on a joint-taskforce case when she was still on the force here in Tampa. Something about a bad guy who crossed state lines and fled to Florida after committing a crime there in Texas. Anyway, she told him last week that you’d be in the area at the conference and he knew it was a long shot, but he called Athena to see if you were still around. She immediately called the Captain to offer up your services if they were needed.
“He’s expecting you at the scene. I’m not sure there’ll be a chance for you to negotiate…typically the shooter is killed in situations like these, or the locals have their own negotiator, but he’s happy to have you there just in case.”
“Ten-four,” Jones told Grey, unlocking his car door, his mind already going through scenarios and what he should say to gain the shooter’s trust to try to convince him to give himself up without hurting anyone if he got the chance. The things he’d learned while at the conference the last few days whirled through his brain.
“The captain has also called the Army base. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Ghost and his team there at some point either,” the owner of The Omega Team told Jones, referring to their Delta Force friends.
Jones nodded in relief. Having the Delta Force team was a good thing. They most likely had more experience with this sort of thing than the local authorities. No one would know they were Delta Force, all Special Forces operatives were required to be tight-lipped about their involvement in the teams, but Jones knew if needed, they’d step up to the plate.
“Good. I had lunch with Fletch earlier today. They know I’m in the area and I’ll be sure to hook up with them as soon as I talk with the captain.”
“I fucking hate assholes who think it’s okay to kill innocent civilians. But there’s a special place in hell for people who choose a school full of little kids to make whatever asinine statement they feel they need to make.”
“Agreed.”
“Take this bastard down, Jones.”
“Without a doubt. I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll be standing by.”
The connection was cut as Grey hung up without another word. Jones was used to his boss’s abrupt mannerisms, and didn’t take offense. He pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot and headed as fast as he dared to the area of the elementary school, hoping his Delta friends would be there waiting. If negotiation didn’t work, Jones knew Fletch and the others would take care of the shooter one way or another.
Chapter Six
Not giving the shooter time to do anything, Tony stepped away from, and in front of, Aimee, and held up his hands, showing the man he was unarmed. “Don’t shoot. We’re unarmed.”
It was as if Tony hadn’t spoken. The man raised a pistol and shot toward them and Tony swore as one of the bullets grazed his arm. Ignoring the pain from the flesh wound, he turned and grabbed Aimee, taking them both to the ground and covering their heads. They could’ve run, but he figured that would definitely provoke the man to shoot them. They were sitting ducks on the floor in front of him, but it seemed a better option than further provoking the man’s need to kill by sprinting away. The situation was precarious and he knew it would take a miracle for either of them to get out alive.
Tony heard the click of the man’s gun, indicating it was either out of bullets or had jammed. He waited for the other gun to go off, but it didn’t for whatever reason. Temporary miracle delivered.
“Why are you doing this?” Aimee asked, her voice high and stressed, but steady as she looked over at the man from her position on the floor with Tony.
“Why?” the gunman repeated. “Why not?” he said, concentrating on the handgun, trying to reload it. “Maybe I’m Muslim. Maybe I’m doing it because ‘hashtag all lives matter.’ Maybe it’s because I was abused as a child. Maybe the President told me to do it, or because one of the many voices in my head ordered me to. Maybe I’m working with ISIS or I’m a Democrat or Republican. Or maybe I just want to fucking kill people. Does it matter?” His voice had steadily risen in agitation as he spat out his diatribe, but at the end, he finished messing with the weapon that had jammed and pointed it, and the one in his other hand, at them again and demanded, “Where are the kids?”
“What kids?” Aimee asked, trying to sound sincere.
“There should be kids in here,” the man grumbled.
“They were,” Aimee ventured, “but their teacher picked them up early and I have a planning period now.” She tried to sound as earnest as possible, but wasn’t sure how successful she was.
“So why is Paul Bunyon here?” the gunman asked astutely, jerking his chin in Tony’s direction.
“We’re dating. My class is at music and I came down here to spend some time with her,” Tony explained quickly.
The gunman laughed as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life. “Oh that’s rich. Good to see fraternization in the ranks is still alive and kicking. Sorry I interrupted your pussy time,” he sneered.
All three turned toward the door, hearing a commotion outside.
“Lock these doors,” the gunman ordered, gesturing to the doors while backing away from them, farther into the center of the large room.
Tony and Aimee stood up slowly, but didn’t move toward the entrance to the gym. “They don’t lock.” Aimee repeated the explanation she’d told Tony earlier. “The school board decided it was too dangerous to have them able to be locked.”
“Fucking hell,” the man swore.
Tony tried to ignore the wound on his arm, which was slowly oozing blood. Aimee had noticed, of course, and had her hand clamped down over it, trying to staunch the blood flow. It hurt like fuck, but he’d been injured much worse in his previous job.
He fell in love with Aimee at that exact moment. There they were, their lives on the line, the man could shoot them any second, but she still had the presence of mind to put her hand over his arm and try to stop the bleeding. She wasn’t freaking out, wasn’t crying. He had no doubt she was as scared as she’d admitted earlier, but she was keeping her cool. For a former Special Forces guy who was dealing with a slight case of PTSD, she was a perfect fit for him and a small miracle.
Tony’s resolution to get them out of this situation solidified even more. There was no way either of
them could die before he found out what her lips felt like on his. What she felt like under him, skin-to-skin. He mentally sent a quick prayer up, asking God to look over both of them, so they had a chance to see where a relationship could go.
Tony looked over at the shooter. For some reason the young man had stopped spraying bullets, and while it was dangerous for them to stay in the gym with the kids hiding yards from where the shooter was, Tony was still grateful bullets were no longer flying. The last thing he wanted was a stray bullet piercing one of the lockers and wounding, or killing, one of the students.
Tony tried to memorize everything about him just in case he managed to get away, as unlikely as that might be. The man was Caucasian, looked like he was in his mid-twenties, and, honestly, was pretty clean-cut looking. Nothing about him stood out, except for the long black coat in the Texas heat. He wasn’t declaring his allegiance to Allah, wasn’t yelling anything that could give a reason as to why he’d walked into an elementary school and started shooting. Tony wanted to know why he was doing it, but right this second, the whys didn’t matter. Getting out alive did.
The man strode over to where Tony and Aimee were, shoved one of his guns into his waistband at the small of his back and, keeping his other pistol aimed at Tony, pulled Aimee toward him by her ponytail, saying, “I’m not going to be shot by some dumb local cops. I’m getting out of here.”
Aimee squeaked in pain as she was forced to her feet to walk backward.
“What’s your name?” Tony asked suddenly, standing as the man pulled Aimee away from him, wanting to try to connect with this man in some way. He’d wanted to keep hold of Aimee—the last thing he wanted was for her to be in the man’s clutches—but playing tug-of-war with Aimee’s life wasn’t high on his list of things to do.
“Mohammad.”
“No, it’s not.” Tony couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Cut the shit. You’re no more a Mohammad than I am. If you’re gonna kill me and my girlfriend, at least be honest and tell us your real name and reason for doing this.” For a moment, Tony thought he’d gone too far, that the guy was going to shoot both him and Aimee right then and there, but miraculously, the shooter seemed to approve of his straightforward skepticism.
