White Night

Chapter 43

They hadn't repositioned; they'd broken into a building for supplies to smoke them out.

Connors shared a split-second look with Ross before they both leaned down and hauled Nikolai off the ground. A tiny silver object followed, sending flames roaring out in all directions as the lighter hit the gas.

They didn't have to drag Nikolai out of danger. He stampeded past both of them toward the back of the store as a second red container sailed through the window and the blaze soared to eye level. Her face felt like it was melting, boiling air searing her lungs.

Containers on shelves clicked and hissed, the heat swelling them beyond their capacity. More shots followed, inside the store now. She turned to defend their back and saw aerosol canisters exploding, no gunmen. Their attackers didn't have to enter the store. In about ten seconds, they'd have to walk out into the firing squad.

Ross choked and coughed as he pulled apart his barricade.

"Quickly, quickly, now!" Nikolai shouted, his hair already soaked with sweat.

She pulled at the shelving and wheel rims that Ross had stacked against the door. No need to watch their suspect, there was nowhere for any of them to run. Smoke filled the ceiling like a threatening storm. It was the worst place to shelter from fire; almost every store shelf held accelerants and aerosols.

The barricade dismantled, Ross hesitated to open the door. There were no safe options. The wailing sirens grew closer, but even if backup arrived in minutes, they would still be dead.

"Go, go!" Nikolai panicked and started to rush to the door. She jerked him back.

"I'll lead and lay down covering fire," Ross said solemnly.

She didn't have to tell him he would likely be dead before he took two steps. She also wasn't going to let him do it.

"No. We go together. With him behind us," she said, moving toward the door.

Ross put his hand on her arm as she reached for the door handle. Something in his eyes made her stop, and he wrenched the door open and stepped back beside her in one motion.

Rounds flew through the door, exploding the bottles on the shelves like a target range at an old-fashioned midway. The open door drew the smoke past them, and thick, black clouds rushed out of the doorframe, forcing them to crouch low to find oxygen. They waited for the shooting to stop, knowing it would only pause until they stepped in front of it. Eerie silence filled the air. She looked at Ross' soot-smudged face and he gave her a small nod. It was time...

Gunfire erupted again as they moved closer to the doorframe, but it wasn't at them. Someone was attacking their attackers.

"Joder!"

"Gilipollas!"

She'd been on the job long enough to know those were Latin swear words, but they couldn't wait for it to play out. The flames advanced with every canister that burst and bottle that melted, the heat pushing Nikolai alongside her and stinging the back of her legs.

Ross and Connors swung out of the door frame together, weapons scanning furiously for enemy threats, but the wind had changed and blinding smoke swirled around them as they crept forward. Shots echoed through the street, but it was impossible to know who they were aimed at.

Nikolai shoved them forward, keen to escape the melting heat. She jerked an elbow back hard into his gut and his head hit the back of her shoulder, launching him into rattling coughs. Tough shit; they weren't being pushed along by their perp.

Shapes scuttled crab-like through the clouds of acrid smoke, but she couldn't fire at shadows. Suddenly the sirens were no longer in the distance, and two radio cars roared into the street.

Officers leapt out of the cars and pointed their weapons at her and Ross.

"Drop your weapons! Do it now! Do it now!"

She turned her weapon sideways, Ross followed suit.

"NY—" She tried to yell, but her lungs were spent as she coughed grey swirls of spit onto the ground.

The officers crept forward, guns still trained on the two of them as the shapes melted away into the side streets.

She wanted to reach for her shield, but that could be fatal. One misinterpretation by a nervous rookie and she could be dropped before she got her hand to it.

"NYP—" Ross started, but he couldn't speak any more than she could. They both doubled over and she dropped her Glock, trying to raise her hands. She wasn't getting shot after escaping hell itself.

"Down on your knees!"

"Do it now!"

She was almost there already; her coughing wouldn't stop. Acrid soot clawed at the back of her throat as every breath got smaller.

An officer snatched her arm behind her.

"Whoa, detective here!" he shouted at his colleagues, raising his palm as he looked down at the exposed shield on her hip.

Ross, already on his knees, caught on, and fell onto his side to reveal the shield on his own hip.

"You guys okay?" the officer shouted, but she couldn't calm her throat long enough for a response.

"Chang, call for a bus!" he shouted.

Connors grabbed his arm and pointed back at Nikolai, who was starting to sidle around them. The officer nodded and looped his arm through Nikolai's cuffed arms, dragging him to another waiting officer.

More sirens swarmed into the area as a ball of flame blew through the door of the parts store, making everyone shorter for a few seconds.

More colleagues pulled her and Ross further away from the store as paramedics arrived and pushed oxygen masks over their faces.

"Ma'am, your leg?"

She sighed out the cool oxygen. Pulling the mask from her face, she gave her usual response. "It's fine, just an old injury."

The paramedic shook his head and pointed at the back of her leg, where the cloth had been singed away and a glistening red burn replaced the fabric. Faced with the evidence, her brain started to relay pain signals and her calf felt like it was being peeled apart in the middle. She was wrangled to a waiting "bus," where the medic cut the leg of her best work pants and washed the burn before covering it with a dressing.

Ross appeared at the ambulance door. "Can we have a minute?" he asked the paramedic, but his tone made it clear it wasn't optional.