Burning Rage

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Burning Rage Page 3

by Anne Welch


  The SWAT team arrived and searched each building. Jay hadn't heard a shot in over ten minutes, so more than likely, the shooter was gone. He holstered his gun and checked on the officer who was being loaded in the ambulance. It appeared his injury was a shoulder wound and he should be fine. That was a relief.

  "Is this what this fucker wanted the whole time?" Mike yelled. "Take shots at innocent people?"

  "We have to get this asshole, now!" The anger was palpable in Jay's voice, as well.

  "Mike, they found the shooter's perch. I'm going to take a look, see if we can get any video footage from the buildings across the street."

  Jay's legs were shaking by the time he made up the stairs to the rooftop of the bank. All he could think about was how grateful he was Rachel wasn't there. And thankful no one died tonight. The shooter didn't leave much behind but he would have crime scene go over every inch, anyway. He looked around one more time and toed something brown with the tip of his boot. Jay put a glove on and picked it up. It was a cigarette butt. It looked like, in the shooter's hasty retreat, he left something behind. He bagged it and handed it to the crime scene tech, leaving instructions to notify him immediately, when they had something.

  Once in the stairwell of the building, he fished his cell out of his pocket and dialed Rachel's number. Even if she was mad at him, he needed to hear her voice.

  "Hey, Jay."

  The sound of her husky voice was what he needed right now. Loud music was playing in the background and he could have sworn he heard a male voice.

  "Rach, where are you? Who are you with?"

  "What do you want, Jay?"

  "Tell me where you are, right now." He came off sounding like some jealous psychopath. Hell, right now, the green-eyed monster was eating him up at the thought of her being with another man.

  "I'm having a drink at the bar downtown. It's my night off. Now, if you don't need anything, I'm hanging up."

  "Rachel." The line went dead.

  Chapter Five

  Rachel was dressed in her tight black jeans and silver tank top. She wore her three inch black heels and straightened her long, dark hair. She'd slept for over ten hours and didn't want to sit around in an empty apartment tonight. She called Blake and he met her downtown for a drink. She was leaning against the bar, waiting on another shot of vodka and a pitcher of beer for the table. A handsome red-haired man settled on the seat next to her and tried to convince her to dance with him, but she politely declined. She wasn't interested in meeting anyone tonight; she just wanted to have fun. That's why she'd called Blake.

  This was a firefighter bar they frequented. She came here tonight to get her mind off her conversation with Jay. Just when she'd forgotten him for ten minutes, he called. The ginger was persistent, she'd give him that. No didn't seem like a word in his vocabulary.

  "Look, you seem like a nice guy, but I'm not interested, okay?" she said, making one last effort to get ginger to leave her alone. But, apparently, it wasn't registering to him, because he grabbed her arm.

  "The lady said no! Let her go, now," said a familiar voice.

  "I got this, Jay, I don't need your help," she said, grabbing her drinks and heading for her table in the back.

  "Rachel, Rachel."

  She heard him but kept walking. She couldn't deal with him right now. She hadn't had enough alcohol yet. No such luck; he caught up to her right as she made it to her table.

  "I need to talk to you, okay? Can you give me five minutes, please?" he pleaded.

  "What is it, Jay?" The look in his eyes made her annoyance fade.

  Drinking her shot down, she glanced over to see Blake glued to one of the flat screen TVs. The news reporter's breaking story was about a sniper firing at first responders. She stated one police offer had been shot but was in stable condition. The shooter hadn't been caught yet.

  "This is why I called, Rach," Jay said, taking a seat.

  Of course, that's why he called. What was she thinking, he called because he was ready to hear I love you from her? She knew he was worried about her safety but she could hope, right? She, Blake and some of the guys from their station gathered around the table and listened as Jay filled them in on what happened. Rachel's heart began to race at the thought that Jay could have been hurt.

  "You guys need to be on high alert with each call until we catch this bastard," Jay told them. "The chief has made arrangements for all of you to have bullet proof vests. So please wear them and be diligent of your surroundings. This could be an isolated incident, but my gut tells me it's just beginning."

  He stood up from the table and reached for her hand. "Let me give you a ride home, please."

  "Go ahead, Rach, I'll catch a ride with one of the guys," Blake said as he hugged her goodbye.

  "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Jay's hand on her lower back sent fire through her body as he led her through the crowded bar out the back door. His eyes were constantly searching their surroundings. Her nerves were on edge by the time he settled her in the passenger seat of his SUV. He paused before starting the engine and looked at her, his eyes revealing what he wouldn't allow himself to admit. He reached across the seat and linked his hand with hers and squeezed. Not a word was spoken as he finally started the engine and drove to her apartment.

  He put the SUV in park and escorted her to her door. He gently took her keys from her when they were inside the foyer and said, "Wait here."

  She did as he asked while he searched her apartment. Today must have really shaken him up. Rachel refused to let herself read anything into his actions. He would have done this for anyone he cared about.

  "It's clear. Can't be too careful right now," he said as he put her keys on the counter.

  "You want something to drink, Jay?"

  "I can't. I'm still on duty and have to get back to the station. I needed to make sure you were okay," he said as he walked towards her door.

  She was silent for a minute as he came closer to her. To her surprise, he pulled her into a fierce hug. She wrapped her arms around him and held on. Rachel breathed in his scent—sandalwood and ocean. They fit so perfectly together, her head resting under his neck. Too soon, he let her go and stepped back.

  "Promise me you will wear your vest and be careful, Rach, until we catch this guy. I couldn't take it if anything happened to you."

  "I promise, Jay. I couldn't take it if anything happened to you, either."

  "Lock up behind me," he told her as he left.

  She clicked the deadbolt lock in place and leaned against the door. She promised herself she would not cry, but the tears came. How could she be so in love with someone who wouldn't allow himself to be loved? Nausea hit her hard and she ran to her bathroom. She had a feeling she was going to regret that last shot of vodka.

  ***

  Jay waited outside Rachel's apartment door until he heard the locks click into place. He couldn't explain the urge that had come over him to see her in person, even though she hadn't been in danger or near the shooting. He wasn't sure how long he stood outside her door but he could've sworn he heard her cry. Part of him wanted to go through that door and just hold her. But the stubborn part of him won out. He walked to his SUV, fired the engine up and peeled out. Going home would be useless; there was no way he would sleep, so he headed back to the station.

  Normally, this late at night, the station was pretty empty but, with the shooting, several detectives were working overtime.

  "Hey buddy, I thought you went home," Jay said to Mike as he sat down at his desk.

  "I came back and took another run at Scooter, and something he said got me thinking. You remember, about a year or so ago, there was an accident involving a tanker truck near downtown?"

  "I seemed to recall the tanker lost control and plowed through a crowd of people near the park."

  "Yes. It was particularly crowded, due to the annual spring music festival in the park, that day."

  "You think there's a connection?"

&nbs
p; "Scooter mentioned a tanker truck accident, so I began considering any accidents involving Music City Gas Company."

  "And let me guess. It was their tanker," Jay said as he stood up from his desk.

  "Bingo."

  "Great work, Mike," he told his partner and slapped him on the back.

  Jay poured two cups of coffee and, after handing one to Mike, they began going through any reports of anyone who had been injured or killed that day. Just from his rough assessment, it appeared several hundred people were seriously injured and several others died. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least, they had a good start. This guy needed to be caught before more people died.

  "Why don't you try to catch a few hours of sleep, and I will keep narrowing things down here?"

  "I think I might take you up on that. The wife has been nagging me to come home since she saw the news report," Mike replied, letting out a big yawn.

  "Go home, and I'll call you if I find anything."

  "Try to catch a nap in Cap's office, will you?"

  "All right, man, give Marcy a kiss from me."

  Jay got up from his desk and started a third pot of coffee. He glanced at the clock on his phone; it was almost five o'clock in the morning. His butt had been sitting at this desk for almost four hours straight. He walked around a bit to stretch his legs and aching back. He'd been able to narrow down the list from over one hundred people to twenty seven and was pleased with the progress he'd made so far. But, the process was slow. He was feeling pretty ripe, so he headed to the locker room to freshen up. He took a quick shower and put on a fresh change of clothes. It would be a few hours before Mike got back, so Jay decided to take a quick nap in the captain's office.

  ***

  Cap had a worn out brown leather sofa that was reasonably comfortable. Jay toed off his boots and lay back on the couch. His thoughts drifting to Rachel and why it wouldn't work. In college, he'd had a girlfriend that he dated for over a year. It was going great until she found out he had to leave school and give up his football career and she couldn't handle that. Later, he dated an assistant district attorney on and off for two years. That was longest relationship he'd ever stayed in. She wanted to settle down, but he didn't, so she moved on.

  Thinking back, he wondered if he even tried to make a relationship work. Rachel had been a part of his life longer than any other woman, besides his sister. Maybe it didn't work before because none of those women were Rachel. He knew things between them had already changed, and if he didn't man up, she would disappear from his life or end up with some other man. He couldn't live with either choice.

  Chapter Six

  "Do not leave this firehouse without wearing your vests and be diligent of your surroundings. If something feels wrong, contact dispatch immediately. Let's have a safe shift and all come back home."

  Rachel sat beside Blake as they listened to the battalion chief address the room. The mood in the room was one of concern, but there was also the sense of comradery. They were a family and would look out for each other.

  "Webber, you and Blake hang back a minute," the chief addressed them. "You two are my SWAT medics, today, so if there is an incident, you will be first on scene."

  "Yes, sir," she and Blake said in unison.

  They'd trained hard in Dallas for this and she felt they were ready. She padded Blake's chest to make sure he had his vest on, and he just smiled at her. Sometimes, her partner thought he was superman, so she was glad to see him listening.

  "Let's go get coffee and food," she suggested.

  She grabbed a plate and filled it up with eggs, bacon, fruit and toast. She poured another cup of coffee and filled it up with hazelnut creamer and sugar. When she sat at the table across from Blake, he just laughed at her.

  "Hungry, Rach?"

  "You know breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and since I was sick the last two days, I have to make up for not eating," she replied between shoveling bites of eggs in her mouth.

  "So, what's going on with Jay?"

  "I honestly don't know," she replied, setting her fork down. Her appetite suddenly was gone.

  "He's going to break your heart, Rachel, and then I'll have to kick his ass."

  She raised her head slowly and looked at her partner and said, "Too late."

  "Shit. Are you in love with him?"

  "Why couldn't I be in love with you, Blake?" she said, purposely ignoring his last question.

  "Ah, Rach, you could never handle all this sexiness," he said, smiling. "Besides, kissing you would be like kissing my sister."

  He reached across the table and gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "You are one of my best friends, Rach, and you deserve someone who treats you like a queen. Nothing less."

  "You're a good man, Blake," she replied, squeezing his hand back.

  The alarm began screeching in the background. They stopped eating, leaving their plates on the table, and ran for the ambulance. Rachel's heart sped up when dispatch alerted them that the call was a gas station fire. Blake was driving the ambulance while she verified the address. They were first out of the bay and were followed by the ladder trucks and squad. When he turned the ambulance down 8th Avenue South, she could see the orange flames bellowing up from the top of the Music City Gas station. She couldn't get over a sense of dread with this call.

  When they arrived on scene, she was relieved to see several police officers there. This particular station had over fifteen gas pumps and was considerably larger than the others. It was crowded with early morning commuters filling up with gas on their way to work. Before Blake got out of the ambulance, she grabbed his arm.

  "Be careful; I have a bad feeling about this," she told him.

  "I will, promise."

  While the firefighters from her house began dousing the flames, they began triaging the patients. Rachel established a safe zone for non-life threating injuries. For the most part, there were only minor burns and smoke inhalation. She was treating an elderly gentleman with a gash in his right arm, most likely from flying debris, when she heard the first shot. She watched in horror as a police officer went down. He was about twenty five yards from her, and he wasn't moving. She looked around for Blake and saw him covering a patient with his big body. Rachel told the elderly gentlemen to stay put behind the ambulance. She got down and began to crawl towards the officer, who was holding his right shoulder.

  Blake motioned for her to get back. He was closer to the officer and made it to him first. She watched as he grabbed the officer's vest and began pulling him out of the open and behind cover. Before he could take two steps, another shot rang out and her heart stopped as she saw her partner fall, red blooming from his neck.

  "Blake!" she screamed as more shots rang out.

  This time, a firefighter closest to the gas station was hit. From this distance, she couldn't tell who it was. She couldn't just sit here and do nothing while they needed help. She snuck out from behind the ambulance and crawled to a concrete trash can closer to the officer and Blake.

  She took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and went to crawl out from behind the barrier, when strong arms grabbed her and wouldn't let her move.

  "Have you lost your fucking mind, Rachel? You can't go out there."

  "Let me go, Jay. I have to get to Blake!" she cried as she tried to break free from his grasp.

  "This bastard is still shooting."

  "He's not moving, I can't let him die while I just sit here and do nothing," she pleaded with him.

  "Look at me, Rach," he said and turned her to face him. "I have an idea, but you have to promise me you will stay here behind cover."

  "I promise."

  "I mean it! Are the keys in the ambulance?"

  "Yes. What are you gonna do, Jay?"

  "Stay here until I tell you to move, okay? Mike is with SWAT, and they are narrowing down the shooter's location."

  With that, he took off and headed for the ambulance, leaving her to wonder what his idea was
. That crazy man was using the ambo for cover. He backed it straight up to hide Blake and the officer from the line of fire. Rachels froze; her breath caught in her throat when bullets began pelting the ambulance. No! No. No. Jay had to be okay. He couldn't be hurt. She started breathing again when she saw him jump out the back of the rig. Now that the ambulance was blocking the shooter's visual path, he motioned for her to crawl over to him.

  On her hands and knees, she made her way behind the ambulance and, with Jay's help, turned Blake over. She checked him and he had a pulse, but it was weak. She handed Jay pressure bandages to place on the officer's shoulder wound while she attended to her partner. He was losing too much blood. The bullet went through his neck and nicked his jugular. If she didn't stop the bleeding immediately, he would die.

  "Jay, I need you here. Look in that trauma bag and hand me the hemostat clamp. It looks like pair of scissors.”

  “Is this it?” he asked, handing them to her.

  "Yes. I have to clamp this artery off before we can move him. Hold his head still."

  She placed her thumb and forefinger on the wound until she found the bleeder, then clamped it off with the hemostat clamp. Rachel placed rolls of gauze around the area and placed his head in a collar to prevent movement. Jay helped her get him loaded in the back of the ambulance, along with the officer. She heard Jay radio for a status update on the shooter while she attended to Blake. His blood pressure was dropping and he was going into shock due to the volume of blood he'd lost.

  She started two IVs with saline, wide open, and checked him for any other injuries.

  "We have to get to a hospital now or he won't make it!" she yelled.

 

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