Want You to Stay || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 30

Tim has heard plenty of gunfire in his lifetime. But never has the sound of a shot firing impacted him on such a cellular level. His senses are in disarray — the urgency of the voices around him lost amidst the dull buzzing in his ears. His eyes are glued to the monitor in front of him but he's not actually seeing anything, and there's a bitter metallic taste of fear filling his mouth.

The crisis team had positioned cameras and microphones in key locations outside the mini-mart, and Tim had been watching the scene inside unfold on a monitor with the rest of the unit. He had been filled with pride and relief and overwhelming gratitude as he had watched Lucy expertly navigate the precarious situation. She had done everything right. He had watched Joe's face change at Lucy's heartfelt words — had watched him lower his gun to the floor and lift his hands in surrender. It was over. Lucy was safe.

And then Patrick fucking Patterson — the moronic, child-murdering drug runner — had suddenly leapt up from the floor and rammed Lucy from behind with the force of a linebacker as he hurled himself toward Joe's gun. A scuffle between the two men had sent the gun skittering across the floor toward Lucy's motionless body. He had watched in horror as is happened — unable to warn or help Lucy, unable to do a fucking thing to protect her. The powerlessness was physically painful for him. He couldn't see much of anything past Joe and Patterson's wrestling forms; couldn't see where the goddamn bullet had gone. All he could see was that Lucy wasn't moving. She still wasn't moving.

"Fuck!" Tim curses loudly as Patterson manages to land a punch that knocks Joe to the floor, then bends down to take possession of the gun. Tim's last remaining hope that this situation isn't going to get impossibly worse disintegrates, and he clenches his fist, barely resisting the urge to slam in into the Crisis Response van as his fear and frustration threaten to completely overwhelm him.

"We need to go in," he snaps suddenly, turning his attention to the hostage negotiator, not giving a damn that he's speaking out of turn or calling shots that are absolutely not his to call. The only thing that has stopped him from busting into that mini-mart on his own so far is his decades of training and the knowledge that it would only make things worse for Lucy.

The negotiator turns to look at him with undisguised irritation, "Excuse me?"

"We need to go in now," he asserts again, jaw clenching as he works to keep his tone steady and at least give the appearance of still being in his right mind. Being a loose canon isn't going to do him any favors.

She shakes her head, "Sergeant Bradford, if I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. And I certainly shouldn't have to remind you that that is not how we do things. We don't risk civilian lives in an actively evolving hostage situation without first attempting to negotiate."

Tim's eyes dart back to the screen. Joe is lying motionless on the floor, struck unconscious by Patterson's blow. Gun in hand, Patterson is turning in a slow, wary circle as he tries to decide on his next move.

And that's when Tim sees it — a flicker of motion in the corner of the screen. Lucy is cautiously trying to get up, hands pushing against the floor as her head swivels, no doubt attempting to reevaluate the situation and come up with a new game plan. She is still in there, still ready to fight. Relief floods him as he sucks in a deep, ragged breath to steady himself.

Lucy has barely made it to her knees when Patterson whirls to face her. Tim flinches, breath frozen in his chest as Patterson aims the gun point blank at her head without an instant of hesitation. As obvious as it had been that Joe had never wielded the weapon, it's just as clear that Patterson knows exactly what he's doing.

Tim presses his eyes closed, unable to watch as the panic that had just barely subsided is drowning him again — suddenly certain that the moment he opens his eyes he is going to see the woman he loves be gunned down right in front of his eyes.

The negotiator briefly glances between him and the screen, her voice and expression softening briefly. "She's important to you?" she asks quietly.

And Tim just nods, not bothering to hide or explain it, heart still in his throat when he hears Patterson's voice over the feed.

***

"I'm not going back to prison," Patterson snarls.

Lucy tries to steady her breathing and stymie the trembling of her hands as she lifts them up in the air. It's not the first time she's been face to face with the barrel of a gun, but it doesn't mean she isn't absolutely terrified.

Everything hurts. And though she'd taken as much time as possible to orient herself before crawling up off the floor, she's still stunned. Still not totally sure how she ended up here, with the unnerving certainty that she is now dealing with a man that won't think twice about shooting her in the head if he can find some sort of upside in it for himself.

Her voice is soft when she speaks, the words finally breaking through the remnants of fog in her mind as she reassures herself that she can do this. "You have all the power right now, Patrick. You can ask for whatever you want — immunity, money, transportation to anywhere in the world, but if you shoot me or if that girl dies, it's over. They won't negotiate with you."

Patterson keeps his gaze locked on Lucy, and she takes it as an invitation to continue. She coaches him gently, "That phone is going to ring soon, Patrick. You'll want to be prepared. The first thing they'll ask you is how she is doing. They'll want to send in medics to take her out of here."

Patterson is rapidly shaking his head, "No. Nobody's coming in here."

"Patrick, listen to me. That's your first trade. Remember, you lose your power the minute someone dies, okay. What's the first thing you want? As a show of good faith?"

"Naw, man. I'm not stupid. You're a pig. You're trying to trick me. I'm not listening to no pig." He lifts the gun up again from where he's let it lower slightly.

"Patrick," Lucy pleads softly, "No one is going to negotiate with a cop killer. I have no reason to trick you, okay? All I want is to get out of here alive," her voice hitches slightly and she allows the heat to build behind her eyes, making use of the desperation she is actually feeling. "To get back to the people I love. I want everyone to get out of here alive."

"But you said you were here to put me away?"

"I was here to collect evidence, Patrick. But I don't have any. I can't put you away without proof."

The shrill ring of the archaic rotary phone behind the counter jars them both. Patrick eyes her warily and Lucy nods encouragingly. He steps forward abruptly, pressing the gun to her forehead, and for a second all she can hear is the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

"Don't fucking move. And if this is a trick, I'm going to kill you first." And his affect is so flat when he says it that Lucy doesn't doubt his words for a second. She swallows and just barely nods as Patterson finally turns to walk over to the phone.

And then she is fighting the urge not to roll her eyes when she hears Patterson asking for, "A million — no, a billion dollars," in exchange for allowing paramedics in to help Lani. She'd laugh out loud with misery if the situation wasn't so dire — this absolute idiot holding so many lives in his hands.