Page 72 of The Fragile Ones
“I can’t do that. You just shot a guard and you’ve got a gun to another guard’s head.”
“They will shoot me.”
“Not if you do what I say,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
More officers came out and she saw the sheriff with them.
“Let’s just stay calm. Darren and I are going to have a chat. Okay?” She glanced around at everyone. “Okay?”
The officers, including the sheriff, remained in position. She stepped slightly to the side and assessed the injured officer who was on the ground leaning against the van. His shoulder and leg were bleeding heavily.
“Darren, what did you want to say? I’m here.”
Sirens sounded as the fire department and ambulance arrived, along with any patrolling deputies. They were all heading to the department. It would soon turn into a circus and Katie had to do something before she had no control over the situation anymore.
“What’s that?” he said.
“Just standard procedure. The fire department always gets dispatched when there’s a shooting.”
“Look. I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“I believe you, Darren,” she said, trying to sound sincere. “But this isn’t the way to get our attention. Let Officer Bush go, okay?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Give us something, okay?”
“I’m begging you,” he said. “I didn’t kill anyone—ever.” He tightened the grip on his hostage. “I’ve done bad things, but not murder. You understand? Please believe me.”
“Okay, Darren, I understand.” Katie realized that she was in way over her head—she wasn’t trained or equipped to handle this type of situation. “Let’s go back inside and talk.”
“No. He’ll find me.”
“Who?”
“You know him. You knowallabout him. You can reach out and touch him.”
Katie hesitated.
“He’s not who he says he is…”
She looked at the wounded officer. “Let’s go inside where we can talk away from everyone.”
“I can’t do that,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry, Detective.”
As if in slow motion, he turned the gun on himself and pressed it against the side of his head, allowing his hostage to break free. Then he pulled the trigger. Darren Rodriguez crumpled to the ground as blood poured from his head. He was dead before he hit the pavement.
“Nooo!” screamed Katie as a stampede of officers ran to him. But it was too late, the image was forever burned in her mind. She couldn’t stop it—she couldn’t save him.
Snapping back into the moment, she ran to the wounded officer. “Stay awake, okay?” She assessed his condition and saw that a vast amount of blood was coming from his leg. It was something she had been through many times on the battlefield. He was trying to stop it with both hands without much luck. She took her belt off and secured a tourniquet tightly, causing him to groan. “Don’t move, okay? The paramedics are close.”
She could barely hear him say, “Don’t leave.”
“I’m going to wait right here until they arrive, okay?”
“In case I don’t…”
“Don’t say anything,” she said, remembering losing some friends and how she had sat with them when they died. Her arms and legs tingled. Her mouth went dry. She felt removed from the situation even though there was shouting, moving about, and the sounds of a fire truck gunning its engine. The distinct smell of expelled gunfire infused everything around her—at least in her mind. She kept seeing Rodriguez pressing the gun against his temple and pulling the trigger.
