"The woman. The one brought here today. She was promised she'd be a martyr."
So he was here to kill her? CJ shook his head. "I don't know." He doubted very much that their only intent was to fulfill the bomber's wish of becoming a martyr. More likely, they wanted to silence her before she had a chance to speak to authorities.
The gunman rattled the rifle, digging it into the hostage's skull. The hostage stared at CJ, his eyes wide. A small part of CJ relished the man's fear. Now he knew what his victims felt like. Then CJ felt shame rush in. What if he was wrong and this was some other man? Now wasn't the time to play judge. He'd been holding his gun pointed at the shooter the whole time, but he'd almost forgotten that he still held it. Gripping it more firmly, he lifted it, holding it steady on the shooter.
He was surprised his voice didn't shake when he replied, "I don't know where she is. I'm just a patient here." He turned his wrist, just the slightest bit, lifting it to show the patient ID bracelet. His hope was to make the man realize that his mission was futile.
The gunman's eyes flicked to the ID bracelet and his gaze wavered but then hardened. "I don't believe you. You have a gun."
CJ gave a tiny shrug. "I had it on me when I came in."
The ice blue eyes narrowed in the holes of the mask. "I know you! You...you were on the news tonight! You are the one who shot Mariana!"
CJ hadn't seen the news but he didn't doubt the guy had seen him on it. He tried to placate the man. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to shoot anybody, but I had to. She was going to kill innocent people."
Where the hell was everyone? He heard rustling behind the desk to his left, and someone had silenced the alarms somehow, but as far as CJ could see, he was the only one visible.
"Innocent?" The man spat. "Like the people of Iraq? The people of Afghanistan?"
CJ ignored the comment, unwilling to be drawn into a debate. In college, he'd heard plenty from both sides about the justification of the war. No side ever won and the debate always ended up with heated words exchanged and hard feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was to antagonize the man further. While he had his own opinions, they were none of this guy's business. Inching closer, he held his gun steady.
His one advantage was that the gunman's mobility was limited due to having to hang on to the hostage. He couldn't aim the rifle at both CJ and the hostage at the same time. CJ hoped help was on the way because a hostage standoff was way beyond his rookie status with the camera. Sirens were approaching, which could mean police or maybe it was just another squad bringing in a patient.
The gunman tugged the hostage towards a door to a room marked, X-Ray. He couldn't let him get in there with the hostage in front. He'd be protected on three sides by the walls and in front by the hostage. He could level his rifle in that position. He'd eventually be stopped, but at what cost?
Stepping forward, CJ said, "Drop your gun and let him go. You can't win here."
"Oh yes, I will." He gave the hostage a shake. He might have smiled from the tone of his voice, but his mouth was hidden in the mask. "I have him to guarantee it."
CJ looked at the hostage. The guy seemed about to pass out. Was it fear or the effect of his prior injuries? Then the hostage focused on CJ, his eyebrows shooting up in recognition, and then his gaze darted to the nurse's station.
CJ couldn't help it. He had to know for sure. Looking directly at the hostage, he said, "Who are you looking for? A nurse? Scoping out a new victim?"
The hostage's eyes darkened, then he smirked.
The gunman tightened his grip on the hostage, erasing the smirk from the man's face, but CJ had his answer.
"No more talk! Take me to Mariana, or I'll kill him."
CJ shrugged. "Go ahead. That'll just make it easier to shoot you."
That wasn't the answer the gunman expected. He stared at CJ for a moment before he looked around as though wondering if someone else was going to step up and give in to his demands.
Inching closer, CJ said, "Remember, I'm the one who shot your friend, Mariana. Do you think I'll hesitate to shoot you, too?"
"But-" The gunman squeezed the hostage, tugging him higher until the hostage was on his tiptoes.
"Don't count on that guy saving you." If CJ's heart hadn't been tripping like a jackrabbit's, he might have relished the irony of the situation. "Too bad for you that you picked this guy as your hostage. He's probably the only person in this room who isn't innocent."
The man didn't say anything, but his eyes met CJ's. They showed no emotion, but his grip on the hostage loosened a fraction. The hostage was no longer on his tiptoes and there was a separation of their bodies. Not a lot, but enough that CJ felt he had a clear shot of the gunman's head. It was only ten feet. Easy. But he didn't pull the trigger. He wanted to, but he flashed to the suicide bomber from the afternoon. He saw her falling, her leg gushing blood.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his father creeping up on the gunman's right. It was hard to mask his relief, but he had to keep the gunman's attention.
"I know you American cops. You don't let the hostages die."
Mark crept up behind his father, fanning to the right and CJ knew he was trying to get behind the gunman. The top of Jessie's head was showing over the counter, and he saw her hands, gripping her gun, steady on the counter. The gunman hadn't noticed any of them yet. It was all CJ could do not to sigh in relief that all three were safe.
He had to buy just a little more time. "I'm not a cop though. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, if you killed this guy you'd be doing everyone a favor. Especially the nurses in this hospital."
Now totally confused, the gunman's gaze flew around the ER as if searching for someone to clue him in.
"You don't know nothin'!" The hostage tried to pull away from the gunman, almost as if he wanted to attack CJ.
CJ's heart slowed a fraction as anger edged out fear. "Bullshit. I have a wound on my leg from you that's barely healed. I was there, remember? You attacked one of the nurses who was taking care of you just fifteen minutes ago. Did you even know that?" CJ met the gunman's eyes. "That piece of shit you're using as a shield is a rapist and he probably killed another nurse from this hospital." CJ kept his eyes on the gunman, and raised his chin. "Seriously, dude. You picked the worst hostage ever."
The gunman shook his head, his eyes warming. CJ wondered if he might be smiling behind the mask. His grip on the hostage loosened. He was going to give up. CJ could feel it. His stance relaxed a tiny bit, hoping that if he stood down a little, the gunman would give up. At this point, nobody was hurt. "I tried not to kill Mariana. I shot her in the leg and they took her to surgery earlier. I think she's still alive. Come on. Think about it. Do you really want to die? I know I don't. Nobody needs to be a martyr tonight."
The gunman seemed to be weighing CJ's words. His arm didn't seem to be wrapped quite as tightly around the hostage.
The hostage jerked free, having slipped out of his wrist restraint, and grabbed the rifle. He caught both CJ and the gunman by surprise as he turned and leveled the rifle not at the gunman, but at CJ.
CJ didn't hesitate. He didn't have a choice. He squeezed the trigger.
* * *
In the seconds after firing, CJ froze, his eyes fixed on the man he'd shot. There was no question that he was dead as he had fallen face up, eyes sightless. The bullet had hit him in the throat, and blood had sprayed everywhere, some splashing onto CJ. He shuddered; the gun dropping from his fingers. He was dimly aware that his father, Mark and Jessie had the original gunman down on the floor, his hands pulled behind his back. Jessie had her cuffs on her and used them to secure the prisoner.
There was so much blood. CJ backed away, swiping his hands over his face and hair. He had to get the blood off. He rubbed his hands on his legs, but there was blood there too. He groaned and stepped back, staring at his hands then at the bloody corpse.
"CJ!"
His dad stood before him, his hands on CJ's shoulders. CJ craned his neck
to look around him at the body on the floor. It was as if an invisible cable kept his focus fixed on the sight, pulling him back when he tried to look away.
His dad tugged CJ's shoulders, trying to turn him. His feet moved, but his neck swiveled, keeping his eyes locked on the dead man. The man he'd killed. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't.
"CJ...?"
CJ blinked at a gentle tap on his jawline. His dad was close, his eyes searching CJ's face. "Are you okay, Chris?"
Maybe it was the tone, quiet and full of concern, or maybe it was the use of CJ's given name, but the cable snapped and CJ spun away from the bloody mess on the floor. He bent at the waist, hands braced on his knees. Keep it together. He finally nodded. "I...I'm okay."
He sucked in a lungful of air, feeling as if he couldn't quite get enough. As if he'd been holding his breath for days. The tremors started as a shudder shook him. His dad stood by his side, rubbing a circle on CJ's back. After a few more gulps of air, he straightened. "I'm all right."
Mark and Jessie approached, but then Chicago police burst into the room, their guns drawn.
"Arms in the air!"
His father turned to face the officers, slowly lifting his hands to shoulder height. "I'm Jim Sheridan, FBI, Special Agent in Charge of the Chicago Field Office. The scene has already been secured."
The cops ignored his dad.
Stunned, CJ was slow to react, expecting his father's clarification to appease the officers, until one of the cops pointed his gun at CJ. "Hands up!"
His arms shot in the air. He looked at his dad, who was glowering at the cops, but kept his mouth shut. CJ shifted his gaze to Mark. He had also raised his hands, his eyes wary and watchful, but not overly concerned. CJ let out a breath. Jessie had her ID out and the gunman standing and cuffed. "We have it under control. What took you boys so long?" She tilted her head at the cop, her eyes conveying that she was only giving them a hard time.
"Don't I know you? Bishop? I thought that was you." The cop lowered his gun. "Jeez, you feds are everywhere lately." The officer spoke into his shoulder radio and the other policemen relaxed, still alert, but their weapons were no longer pointing at CJ, his dad, and Mark.
CJ's dad reached into his pocket, glaring at the cop nearest him who stiffened at the action. "Hold your fire, buddy. Just getting my I.D. out."
As soon as the cop scanned the I.D. his manner changed. "Sorry, sir. You understand we had to make certain."
His father gave a brusque nod and pointed to Jessie. "You seem to already know Agent Bishop." Then he gestured to Mark and CJ. "And these men are with me."
CJ's gaze shot to his dad. Men? He'd included him in that phrase. His father looked him in the eye, giving him a faint nod, his eyes warming.
Mark looked between them, his mouth turning up at the corners, then he stepped up and held out his hand. "Well done, CJ. I think you'll do okay at this camera thing."
"Whew!" CJ expelled a breath and clasped the offered hand. "Thanks." Then he cocked his head. "Where were y'all when I was out there with the gunman? I swear, it felt like everyone disappeared."
Jessie chuckled. "We did. You kept him busy enough for us to get everyone into the medication room. It has heavy doors that lock. It was the safest place we could find."
"You got everyone in there?" He was shocked. How long had he been talking to the gunman?
"Yes, thanks to you, nobody except the hostage was hurt-not even the gunman." His dad clapped him on the shoulder. "You did well. Very well."
CJ wanted to accept the compliment, but his gaze drifted to the body on the floor, now surrounded by Chicago police officers. The nurses and doctors milled behind the desk, their voices adding to the increasing volume in the room. His head pounded and he rubbed his forehead. Patients had wandered out to see what was going on, and police were taking statements from everyone.
He lowered his hand, saw the dried blood on it and tried to rub it off on his T-shirt, but there was blood there too. He shuddered. "But I shot him. I shot the damn hostage!" How could that ever be okay? "And that's not even the worst of it. It was the second person I shot in twelve hours."
"You had no choice, CJ," Mark spoke, but his dad nodded agreement.
He knew it had been him or the other guy, but it didn't make it much easier. He hadn't had a choice earlier either, it had been shooting the bomber or watching the bomber commit suicide and take out a busload of kids as well as his dad, Mark and Jessie. "I know. It's just..." He sighed, unable to express how he felt. The guy he'd killed had definitely attacked Blanche and had probably killed the other nurse, and maybe others. And he was pointing the rifle at CJ. Why did he have to do that? Everyone could have escaped without any injuries at all.
"CJ, you were saying something about the...the guy," his dad waved vaguely at the body, "being a rapist. What were you talking about?"
"Yeah, I was wondering, too."
CJ spun at the voice behind him. Blanche approached, twisting a washcloth in her hand, unmindful of the water that dripped.
"He's the guy, Blanche. The one who attacked you. I recognized his voice. Then he didn't deny it. I bet if they check his DNA, they'll find he killed the nurse, too. Your coworker." CJ watched her as she studied the body.
"He came in with a gunshot wound in the side. Looked worse than it was. He said he got it when he was cleaning his gun, but he had scratches on his neck. He couldn't explain those, but..." She shook her head. "I can't say if he's the same guy. I never saw him clearly that night and I didn't recognize his voice."
"I'm sure of it." CJ hands shook as he rubbed his arms. Why was it so damn cold in here? With her indecision, his doubts resurfaced. What if he'd been wrong after all? What if he'd killed an innocent man? But the guy had practically admitted it.
Blanche cast a quick look over her shoulder then faced CJ again. "I don't know if he’s the same guy, but I do know that the first man with the gun was dangerous." She bit her lip, before lowering her voice to a near whisper, "Did you see this in your photos?"
CJ searched her eyes, looking for signs that she was mocking him, but saw only sincerity. He nodded. "But at first we thought it was supposed to be tomorrow night...that's why I wanted to meet you for lunch. To warn you. But then you said you didn't work."
Her eyes widened. "Was I in the photos...again?"
"Not the photos, but in my dream, you were there-and not in a good way." Then his face heated at the implication of the last bit. Why had he said that?
She didn't seem to notice his blunder and asked, "Was it bad?"
He knew what she was really asking. Had she died? He couldn't answer her, but she must have read his expression because her head dropped and her shoulders shook. Jessie moved up beside her, putting her arm around her. "It's okay. CJ stopped it."
She nodded, then lifted her face to CJ. "What are you? Like, my guardian angel or something?"
Guardian angel? That sounded a little too pure to CJ's liking. He lifted one shoulder. "Or something?" He smiled.
She pursed her lips, as though to stifle a smile, then tilted her head and reached up with the washcloth. "You have..." she waved towards the body.
CJ followed her gesture, puzzled at first, then realized what she was saying and tried to snatch the cloth from her hands to clean his face. Here he was talking to her with blood and gore on his face.
She pulled the cloth back. "Let me."
Mark stepped over to CJ's dad. "Come on, Jim. I think the cop over there is trying to get your attention." He cast CJ a grin and Jessie nodded as they herded his father away.
Blanche dabbed at his cheek and said, "I think that camera of yours wants me alive. Why do you think that is?"
CJ grinned. "I can think of a lot of reasons."
The End
Get Capture: Book Two (CJ Sheridan Thrillers)
Pre-order now, live on 2/25/16
From the Author
Author Notes:
Five years ago, I never expected my story about th
e magical camera to go beyond one book, No Good Deed, but thanks to reader response, the series grew to five books, and now, a spin-off series.
Will CJ’s story continue for four more books? I don’t know. I have at least one more planned. Reader response drives everything I do because nothing is a better motivator than knowing readers are out there waiting for the next book. With that in mind, if you want to read more about CJ, just let me know! I love to hear from readers .
If you have a moment, a review letting other readers know what you thought of the book is one of the best ways to let me know what you want. Review Shoot
To learn about my newest releases, I invite you to join my mailing list. : Sign up here
Email is also a great way to contact me.
Email MP McDonald
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Website
If you haven’t read the Mark Taylor Series, and are curious about what Mark endured, the first book in the series is free at all retailers. Here it is on Amazon:
No Good Deed
This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandmother, Blanche Gavigan. She used to always tease everyone in the family by asking them to name their next daughter, Blanche. We would all nervously laugh and try to politely tell her that we had another name in mind. She'd just laugh, knowing that her name was not in vogue anymore. Well, I thought it was time someone carried on her name, and the more I typed it as I wrote this novel, the more I liked the name. Maybe it'll make a come-back?
Acknowledgments
A huge thank-you to my beta readers. Without them, I would never be able to get this book to readers.
J.R. Tate-who is also an amazing author in her own right.
Vickie Boehnlein
Pam Moore
Al Kunz
Allirea Brumely
Also, to the Antioch Writer’s Group—your feedback has been extremely helpful.
Shoot: A Crime Thriller (CJ Sheridan Thrillers Book 1) Page 19
