Diane gave her a slight bow. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”
Hathaway was almost back to the cruiser when he stopped dead in his tracks. “God dammit, Pembrook. Get your head in the game!” He drew his sidearm and shot a masked gang member just before he could hurl a flaming liquor bottle at Diane’s back. The hostile fell backward and was engulfed in fiery liquor upon impact.
“Get to cover, ma’am. It’s not safe for you here,” Diane said. She pulled her sidearm and pointed it where the hostile lay burning. To her surprise, no other hostiles were nearby. She took a step backward and stood close to Hathaway. “Where is everybody? There’s never just one.”
Hathaway scowled at her. “Oh, now you’re talking to me? If you’re in such a chatty mood, get your ass over to the cruiser and call for backup. I’ll cover you.” He smirked and added, “Again.”
Diane inhaled to argue but thought better of it. She nodded and hurried to the driver’s side of the cruiser. She punched a button on the command console. “Pembrook to base.”
A scratchy female voice replied. “Go ahead, Pembrook.”
“Shots fired. Hostile down. Need backup at…” She wasn’t sure where they had parked. She began to back out of the car to check her location when a soft male voice spoke clearly to her through the console.
“Is the primary target eliminated?”
Diane gulped. “No sir. I’m on track for successful completion by end of shift.”
“Enough delays, Miss Pembrook. I will not brook failure. Your utility is commensurate with results. Reliable, consistent results. Return to your mission immediately.”
But I haven’t called in backup, Diane thought. If Hathaway finds out I left us marooned in a hot zone, he’ll…
Diane shook her head and let out a derisive chuckle. He’ll what, kill me? Diane backed out of the cruiser and waved to her partner. “Ten minutes, tops. How many hostiles?”
Hathaway spun around in a tight circle, his gun at the ready. “None. So far, it’s just the one. I’m not buying it.”
Yes, you are, Diane thought. “I think I saw another one in that alley over there.” She pointed across the street to a gap between a discount pharmacy and a nail salon.
Hathaway shook his head. “We’re not taking the bait. Let them come to us, if they want to dance. When backup gets here, we’ll set up a perimeter and choke them off, same as always.”
“Or, we could take the fight to them and end this. Backup can set up a perimeter while forensics figures out which one of us shot which hostile. That happens sometimes, too.”
“Too risky, Pembrook. What’s gotten into you? You can be as pissed off as you wanna be, but I’m not okay with reckless. You wanna be a hero? Do it without me.”
“I intend to,” Diane said, her voice as sharp as steel.
“Burn in hell, pigs,” a voice said. Diane and Hathaway snapped to attention and spun around, each seeking the source of the threat. Diane couldn’t see anybody. A moment of clarity struck her seconds before a flaming bottle did. It came from the roof. She waved her arm, fanning the flames. Hathaway looked at Diane, horrified.
“Stop, drop, and roll, Pembrook. Don’t make me do this alone.” He fired three shots at the roof line, striking a hostile in the forehead. Diane dropped to the pavement and rolled back and forth on her left arm, snuffing the flames. Her skin was streaked with black soot. Red-hot needles of pain tore through her arm. She gritted her teeth and focused on her mission.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Payback’s a bitch.”
Hathaway glanced at her before returning his gaze to the roof. “You don’t look okay. That arm looks like it would be right at home over some dirty rice and a side of corn bread.”
Diane spied movement behind him and whirled around. She fired a single bullet and struck a man wielding a baseball bat run through with nails. The bat clattered on the sidewalk. The man fell face-first into the gutter.
“I said, I’m fine.”
Hathaway fired at the roof, just missing another hostile. “Dammit, Pembrook, we’re sitting ducks. How much longer for that backup?”
Diane glared at him and shot the hostile Hathaway missed. “Who cares?”
“What the hell, Pembrook? This is dereliction of duty.”
Diane yanked his arm. “Backup’s not going to save us, partner. We need to get to cover.” She pointed to another alley, this time between a liquor store and a mobile electronics dealer. “Over there. We can bunker down. Make them come to us.”
“I don’t like it, Pembrook, but—” The cruiser went up in flames as three bottles landed on it from three different directions. Two came from above. Diane caught sight of the third bottle-thrower and killed him with a single bullet to the chest. Hathaway huffed. “Point taken. Let’s move.”
Diane smiled and nodded. “After you. I’ll watch your six.” Hathaway eyed her suspiciously, then nodded. “Trust me,” Diane said, and licked her teeth with anticipation as he turned away and proceeded toward the alley. Diane looked skyward, as if to speak to the all-seeing Masked Man. “I’ve got this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Hathaway rolled a dumpster away from a grimy brick wall and waved Diane over. “We can take cover here until backup arrives. Anyone wanting a piece of us will be easy pickings at the entrance.”
Diane frowned at the high wall behind them. The more she inspected his makeshift bunker site, the more she disapproved of it. It went against everything the Good Book said to do when facing multiple hostiles. There was only one way in or out, for starters, which, despite Hathaway’s belief that it gave a tactical advantage by giving any attackers a single point of access, it meant it wouldn’t take much to incinerate them where they crouched.
Diane thought back to the hostiles she killed, saving the Sixth Precinct’s command post from being barbequed by six punks with two cases of liquor bottles. She almost fell into the same trap by the cruiser, now Hathaway was making it way too easy for the hostiles to take them out. So much for the two best shots on the force, she mused, if they got torched by a stupid Molotov. She groaned at the realization her partner was only doing what she suggested with the intent of luring him to his death, but this was plain foolish.
Diane considered her own objectives: survival was always first. The Masked Man wanted Hathaway eliminated today, no excuses. Diane smirked at her partner as he checked his magazine and nodded at the ammo count. One bullet to the head, and he’d be off her list. She still couldn’t bring herself to take such a flagrantly cheap shot. She was confident in her ability to kill him cleanly, despite his considerable skill with firearms. She wanted him to go out fighting. While this spot was secluded and perfect for a quick assassination, she didn’t like her odds of escaping the urban box canyon she and Hathaway were cornered in.
Diane shook her head as Hathaway snapped his magazine back into place. “I don’t like this. We’re worse off than if we were standing in the middle of the street.”
Hathaway cocked his head. “How do you figure? If any of them want a piece of us, they’ll get dropped before they even lift a finger. When backup gets here, we can go on offense.”
Diane sighed. “There isn’t going to be any backup.”
Hathaway lowered his gun and gave Diane a concerned look. “Sure there is, Pembrook. I know this seems like a tough spot, but I trust you. We can hold them off. We’re partners. Just watch my back, and I’ll watch yours. No sweat.”
“No, Hathaway. I’m telling you there isn’t going to be any backup. The console jammed when I was trying to call it in. Some weird static cut me off. I never heard anything back before the cruiser got roasted.”
“Holy crap, Pembrook, this isn’t funny. Please tell me this is your idea of a stupid joke.”
“I’m not joking,” Diane said. “We’re going to need to go on offense way sooner than planned. We need full line of sight on the hostiles. We need multiple escape routes. This,” she said, waving at the wall that kept them hemmed in, “is s
uicide. Let’s take the fight to them.”
“Jesus, Pembrook, you’re panicking. Look at you! You’re shaking. This is no time to lose your nerve. Just keep your eye on the entrance and be prepared to fire at will.”
Diane looked at her left hand. It trembled as she held it parallel to the ground. Her burns sent a steady stream of pain impulses directly to her brain. She clenched her hand into a fist and focused on staying in control. She applied Lady Diamond’s lessons and chose her words carefully. “Hathaway, I know what I said, but it was the wrong call. I’m sorry. If you want to make it through this alive, do as I say.”
Hathaway snorted. “All due respect, Pembrook, I know a little something about survival.”
Diane glared at him. “All due respect, Hathaway, I know a little something about killing.”
“Then let’s put our heads together and survive by killing these asswipes. How’s that?”
Diane smiled and nodded. “It is what it is.”
A young man with messy black hair and a red bandanna over his nose and mouth pointed into the alley. “Found ‘em, homes. Let’s light these pigs up.”
Hathaway gestured to the hostile with a quick bob of his head. “Ladies first.”
Diane raised her sidearm and fired once. The hostile’s head burst open as her bullet passed through his brain. He collapsed onto his right side. She nodded to Hathaway. “Here they come.” She and Hathaway fired six shots in rapid succession, killing five hostiles and wounding the sixth. The sixth man grabbed his bloody bicep and staggered out of view. Diane shot Hathaway an annoyed glance. “He was on your side.”
“I shot him in the throwing arm, at least.”
Diane trained her weapon at the mouth of the alley. She found it eerie and unsettling that no vehicles passed by from either direction. No civilians wandered into the fray, either. She wondered if a perimeter was being set up after all, despite the call for backup being intercepted and squelched by the Masked Man. She looked over at her partner and swallowed hard. Unlike Hendricks, Hathaway was a good guy, she thought. Hendricks seemed like a good partner, then she learned the truth about how he really felt about her when he was paired up with Cade Goodwin. She scrunched up her nose at the memory, as if she suddenly caught the scent of a dirty diaper being held over rotten eggs.
Diane shook her head and re-focused on her objectives. Hathaway would be dead in a few minutes. She would break free of the makeshift bunker and apply everything the Good Book taught her. She just needed to make it look like he died in the line of duty. She wanted him to have a good death.
A bottle sailed into the alley from a sharp angle. Flames spread across the wall where the dumpster once stood. Diane frowned at the fire. It was no threat by itself. But it reminded her that they could be pinned down and burned alive if the hostiles figured out where and how to hit them.
Hathaway jutted his chin at the flaming remains of the Molotov. “Nothing to worry about, if that’s the best they can do.”
Glass shattered to their left. “Come on, grab whatever’s closest and go with Lenny,” a husky male voice said.
Diane smacked her forehead. “Um, seems to me we’re next to a liquor store.”
Hathaway tipped his head. “I saw an electronics store. Maybe they’re doing a smash and grab before blowing out of here. We might be out of the woods sooner than you think.”
“No, that’s on my side. The liquor store was on the right when we ran over here.”
“No, it’s on your right. I distinctly remember seeing it on the left,” Hathaway said, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Seriously? You’ve got that memorized? Listen, they’re reloading. I hear bottles.”
Hathaway raised a shushing finger. “No, that’s just shards of glass from the break-in. New plan, Pembrook. Now’s our chance to put them down on our terms, not theirs. Cover me.”
Before Diane could object, Hathaway rushed out from behind the dumpster and crept toward the mouth of the alley. Hornets buzzed inside her skull as she plotted a clean shot to the back of his head. Obey, said the Masked Man’s voice in her head. Do not fail me.
Diane squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “I won’t fail you,” she said.
Diane crept toward her partner as he stood on the sidewalk with his gun trained on a surprised hostile clutching a caseload of rum. “Drop your weapon,” he commanded. “Hands where I can see them. You’re under arrest.”
Diane raised her gun. She couldn’t take the screeching in her head any longer. While this wasn’t the best opportunity to complete her mission, she reasoned, it was convenient, and it would have to do. This is it, she thought. Goodbye, partner.
“Pembrook! Behind you!”
Hathaway whirled around and fired once. He shot a hostile clutching a nail-riddled bat before he could drive it into Diane’s skull. Diane fell to one knee and put her hand to her head in surprise. The butt of her gun pressed against her temple. The hostile with the rum turned to run. Diane squeezed off a shot and struck him between the shoulder blades. The case of rum crashed onto the sidewalk, followed closely by the hostile.
Diane put her left hand to her forehead. What have I done? Why didn’t I kill Hathaway as I was ordered? Diane shook her head and decided not to dwell on any of that now. What mattered was helping her partner. She stood by his side and gunned down the last four hostiles. The gang leader was the last to die. Diane crouched over his bloody corpse and felt around for a totem. He didn’t wear any jewelry, and anything in his pockets was too hard to reach without attracting unwanted attention. She pressed two fingers to his throat. “He’s dead.”
“No doy, Pembrook. You’re not big on letting anyone live to fight another day.”
“You shot them too.”
“I know. I’m learning.” He grinned at her.
Diane wiped her eye with her knuckle. “Me too.”
Hathaway gave her a quizzical look. “You okay? I mean, I know we saw some action, but you never get emotional about it. At least, not that I ever saw.”
“I’ll be okay. We just… I won’t see you ever again.” She slipped her sidearm into her holster.
“Whoa, where’s this coming from? We won, Pembrook. Someone had to have called this in. Some civilian was probably on the horn the second the shooting started.” He patted her shoulder. “And everything was by the book. I’ll back you up all the way if anyone says otherwise.”
Diane patted his hand and let a tear slide down her nose. “I appreciate that, partner. You’re a good friend.”
“Oh? We’re friends now?”
“Friends have each other’s backs,” Diane said. “Don’t they?”
Hathaway smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “They go out for drinks after work, too.”
“I’d love to, sometime.”
“I was thinking, maybe, tonight.” He gazed into her eyes intently.
Diane looked up at him and saw something she had never seen in a man’s eyes before. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t desire. It was… everything she ever wanted. For a moment, she saw a future with him. Not just as partners on patrol with the Panther Division. She saw a house in the country with dogs playing in the yard and the happy sounds of children. She felt something primal within her goading her to reciprocate his unspoken affection, his unrequited need.
Instead, she shook her head sadly. “Sorry, partner. I’ve got a thing.”
“Maybe after,” he said hopefully.
“I doubt it. It’s, uh… I can’t get out of it. I’m going to be tied up for hours. It’s going to be torture. Murder, really. I’m already wishing I could die now and get it over with.”
Hathaway’s shoulders slumped. He secured the safety strap on his holster and looked around at the dead hostiles. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a crap-ton of reports to file, and Sergeant Griggs was going to show me his method for processing requisitions. Maybe tonight’s not the best idea, come to think of it.”
Diane watched him shuffle toward the front of the store. She ha
ted pushing him off. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the luxury of watching the rest of her fantasy play out. She cradled a baby in her arms and smiled at the sunrise. She turned away from the screen door and walked into the kitchen. Lyssa kissed her cheek and turned down a burner on the stovetop. “Breakfast is almost ready, sweetie. Call the twins to wash up.”
Diane snapped her eyes open and felt a weight press on her shoulders at the sight of her dejected partner. He wasn’t the one. She was committed to Lyssa. She couldn’t put those feelings aside for anyone else, not even him, after saving her life. Twice.
“Hey,” Diane said. Hathaway turned around and tried to hide his disappointment. Diane kissed his cheek and stared intently into his surprised and confused eyes. “You’re a good guy, Noah.”
“You too, Pembrook,” he said, then winced.
Two squad cars screeched to a halt outside the liquor store. Officers Gupta and Fairbanks stepped out with their guns drawn.
Hathaway waved them off. “We took care of it,” he said. “All hostiles have been neutralized.”
Gupta lowered his weapon and nodded to Fairbanks. Fairbanks, on the other hand, kept his gun trained on Hathaway. “Not all of them,” he said.
Diane reached for her sidearm. In an instant, Hathaway was doubled over with a bullet to the gut. Fairbanks shot Gupta in the arm, then turned to shoot Diane. She fired a single bullet into his shoulder, sending him backward onto the pavement.
Diane ran forward and trained her weapon on Officer Fairbanks’ forehead. “Who do you work for? Is it him? Did he send you?”
Fairbanks bit down on something white. Foam bubbled at the corners of his mouth, then he died.
Diane fell to her knees and pounded on his chest. “Damn you. Damn you all, you cowards!”
A black SUV glided to a halt beside Gupta’s cruiser. The rear passenger door opened automatically, revealing an empty seat. Diane glowered at the vehicle and wanted to tear it apart piece by piece. She took one last look at Hathaway as he struggled to stand up, then she tossed her gun aside and ambled toward the SUV. Diane climbed into the vehicle with an air of resignation. The door closed behind her and the SUV sped away.
Hostiles Page 20
