Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 69

The detective shifted on his feet, glancing up at the sky with a short breath.
I knew better than to think the police would even allow an exchange like this, but I also knew that he wouldn't have called me over to him unless he had more to say. He didn't seem like the kind of man to waste words. I waited.
"These kinds of situations are sticky, Oana," he finally said, hooking his fingers through the belt loops on his grey slacks. The fact that he'd called me by name made me inwardly flinch. Officers only did that when they were trying to get someone to trust them. David had mentioned it to me before. I gripped my arms tighter to my chest and nodded once. The detective took that as his cue to continue. "Me and my officers think it's possible to get your two friends out if the captors believe we've agreed to the negotiation. Now, so far, there's been no sign of violence from the captors- to our knowledge- though it's hard to tell if they're armed. . ." The detective paused, watching me closely as I processed his information. I kept myself from glancing back to David and Greyson, because I knew one or both of them might read my expression and come over.
"Ok."
The detective raised his eyebrows. "That's it?" He asked.
I uncrossed my arms. "We've got no other options." I met his gaze, waiting for him to interject other options, but when he didn't respond, I knew there were none. The detective scanned my face once more, as if processing, before a ghost of a smile washed over his face.
"Come with me."
*
Soma's POV
*
I sat on the couch, my hands behind my back, tied painfully tight with one of my headscarves. Damon was sitting to my left, his hands also tied, but one of the four men had also tied his feet together. I wondered briefly if I was going to get out of here alive when I glanced across the room to where three of the men were standing. The fourth man was standing in front of Damon and I, his face screwed into a tight scowl. His expression hadn't changed for twenty minutes.
I looked back to the three men, trying to catch a glimpse of the tall blonde woman who was whisper-yelling at them, but the three men all had such broad shoulders that it was hard to see her clearly. She came in after Damon and I were tied and at gun point. All I could hear of her angry whispers were a few words like police, jail, dead, and some choice Spanish curse words. I didn't pay much attention to their conversation after I heard the sirens outside, until I heard Oana's name. That's when I realized what was happening. Damon had heard them too, but when he'd tried to murmur something to me, the man guarding us had flashed his side piece and shut him up.
Now, I was staring hard at the backs of the men, because Oana's name had surfaced several times and they were holding up a cell phone. After a few seconds, one of the men spoke in very broken English and asked to speak to an officer outside of our current address. It was seconds before an officer was put through to him.
Part of me hoped they had given up on trying whatever they were trying, the threat of jail being enough to discourage them, but when I heard the man's offer to exchange me for Oana, I realized with horror that no such thing was going to happen. The captors were digging their heels in.
This wasn't going to end well for someone.
Damon was focused on the man in front of us, his jaw taunt and his eyes locked on the man's gun, but I could tell he was paying close attention to the conversation happening beside him. I really wanted to ask him what they were saying, but I was too scared of getting caught by the big man in front of us.
As I shifted against the couch, uncomfortable from the tightness around my wrists, I saw Damon move too. It was his hands. I frowned when I noticed that he was holding the TV remote.
I opened my mouth to whisper something, but he suddenly glanced in my direction and made a minuscule shake of his head. His expression was very grim.
He would be a gorgeous model...
I thought, trying to imagine what pose I'd have him stand in if I were painting him.
"You!" The gunman in front of me pointed his finger in my face, startling me from my thoughts. "No moving!" He snarled in a thick hispanic accent. I glanced down quickly to realize I'd started bouncing my left leg up and down. I did it when I was trying to concentrate on my work.
Nodding, I fell still and stared at the ground. His breath smelled horrible. It took everything I had not to grimace when he blew out a breath and settled back on his heels.
I glanced over at Damon. He was looking at me, concerned. I managed a small smile and crossed my fingers behind my back.
When the whispering beside Damon intensified, I winced and closed my eyes. Conflict made me nervous. Especially when I was bound and being held at gunpoint. The police needed to hurry.
*
Oana's Pov.
*
". . . and you are, under no circumstances, allowed to do anything other than what we instruct you to do." The detective continued, watching as I zipped up the jacket I'd been given to hide the mic clipped underneath my shirt.
A lot of good a jacket is going to do me if they find it.
I thought with a miniscule sigh. My heart was pounding so hard I wondered if the tape would stick.
Theoretically, there would be no time for anyone to even touch me, but I knew things like this hardly ever went as planned.
The detective finished briefing me on the details, then I was brought over to the S.W.A.T. team van to be checked one more time. I was wearing a bulletproof vest over the mic, which made the small bulge much more noticeable, hence the jacket.
The woman checking me over nodded and I turned to the detective, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. He'd told me that the chances were that they only wanted to make the exchange because they wanted to kill me, not Soma. Damon was just leverage.
How many times has Damon stepped in and saved me?
I told myself as we approached the apartment building and the team assembled behind me.
I shook my head.
I owe him this one.
My hands started shaking so I shoved them in my pockets. Someone behind me whispered a reminder for me to pull them back out. I'd forgotten one of the rules. Hands visible. Always.
As I stepped up onto the first flight of steps, my heart hammered harder against my ribs, a constant reminder that this could very easily be a heart-stopping moment for me. Yet, that wasn't why I was scared.
Damon is alive. He has to be.
Was the only thought in my mind. I was convincing myself that Damon was ok. The detective said they hadn't gotten eyes on him in a few hours, but no gunshots had been heard. He was alive.
Calm down. Stop thinking so much.
I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Overly aware of the silent echo my single footsteps made as I rounded the third flight of stairs. The team was going to wait behind me out of sight until some of the hostage holders were out in the hall to retrieve me.

Hey lovely readers! I know it's been a horrific amount of time since I've uploaded, but to help make up some lost time I'm posting TWO chapters todayyy! Hopefully time between updates will never be this long again! Enjoy the next chapter!