One Tough Cop by Dahlia Rose Page A

was parked close by the building. He sat in his seat and psyched himself up to be the negotiator, the one who had all the answers and everything the perp needed. Until every option was run through he’d be the guy’s best friend, his confessor, his priest, whatever the fuck he needed. Then if it went bad, he would be justice and he’d do whatever was necessary to get the hostages to safety.
    Max picked up the telephone and played the game. The phone rang and hung up a dozen times before he got the guy to answer. When he did, he listened to the screamed threats and the demands silently until the guy ran out of breath. It was only then that he spoke, making sure he’d be heard clearly.
    “Hey guy, calm down. I’m Sergeant Max Kincaid and I’m here to get you out of this mess. Are you good, do you need something to eat, maybe a six pack of beer?” Max laughed casually and took a breath. “I had two cold ones and the Jets game on when this call came in so I know the feeling if you do.” He stopped and listened to the screaming again, only speaking when he had silence. “Let me help you, buddy, so start from the beginning. Who are you looking for?”
    He’d begun the dance, all the while assessing the situation for if and when it went ugly. In the background he could hear the sobs of a terrified woman and her pleas. Don’t hurt my baby, please. Then and there he made the decision to go in if it turned bad. Somehow the plea struck him and he felt in his heart he was meant to save her. Which was unusual, because Max would be the first to tell anyone that he had no heart at all.
    * * * *
    Five hours later, the guy was building himself up to a frenzy again. Max could tell this fucker was on something or had some kind of mental problem. He had too many highs and lows; one minute he was laughing, the next he was crying, and then he had severe anger. They were getting nowhere fast and the situation wasn’t getting any better for the hostages. Soon after he made contact the pregnant hostage cried out that her water had broken. The stress had put her in active labor, so now not only was he listening to this asshole rant but the painful cries of a woman with no medical intervention and in pain.
    “Walter listen to me, we can get you everything you asked for, even the Super Bowl tickets.” Max rolled his eyes. “But you hear that woman you’ve got a gun to, she’s in pain and she’s bringing a child into the world. Like your wife did to your son, doesn’t her baby deserve a chance too?”
    “Get my wife and kid here and I’ll consider it,” Walter the perp snapped. “If not I put a bullet in her and her squalling will stop right quick. But I want the Super Bowl tickets first, so I can take my kid.”
    Max heard the director talking to Walter. “Listen, her contractions are very close, please untie me so I can help her.”
    “Shut up bitch!”
    He heard the strike as Walter hit her and the director cried out. That was it, Max had had enough.
    “Listen cop, get my money and my tickets and a car then have my wife ready to meet me at her sister’s. Bitch should know she couldn’t leave me!” Walter screamed.
    Max threw down his receiver. “Okay, we’re going in. Prepare for breach.”
    Jones threw down his straw. “About time, he was seriously getting on my nerves.”
    “Take over,” Max ordered another man on the team. “You keep him talking. Jones, breach the back door with the hydro bar. We’re going in on the second floor. Deploy a flash bang when I give the signal, and we’ll take him down hard when he’s distracted.”
    “Ten-four on that chief,” Jones said.
    When they stepped out of the mobile unit the rain was coming down in droves. Fall had a way of bringing all kinds of weather. Freaking tornados in Brooklyn and Hurricane Sandy destroyed the city last year. Instead of fall leaves falling to the ground they were being blown off by the wind and washed down the drain. He looked up into the sky for