Page 61 of Tasting Fire
“I’ll teach you to meditate,” he told her, “if you promise not to enjoy it more than sex.”
Her smile was teasing as she pulled her legs onto the catwalk and straddled his lap. He was careful to pull her close to his chest and away from the railing he’d insisted was safe. “Maybe you should show me how they’re different,” she said, her voice low and sexy.
She closed her eyes and leaned in. Her lips were a whisper on his when both their phones went off with a mood-killing call-out tone.
“So help me God if this is a surprise training exercise and you knew about it…” Cash groped for his phone as Emmy reluctantly dismounted his lap. His very happy lap.
“If this is an exercise, believe me, it’s all on the SWAT captain.”
Cash’s pager said:Hostage situation at Evergreen Apartments. Report of a teenage white male threatening to kill his sister and blow up the building.
“This has to be training,” he said as they made for the stairs. “We never get two SWAT calls this close together. Not in Haywood County.”
“Maybe,” Emmy said. “But the world is changing. Like you said when we were running in the park, even small communities have plenty of problems.”
The scramble for the two of them to get to their vehicles and gear was becoming a habit. Not a good one. They took the stairs down the water tower as quickly as possible and dashed for the truck without closing the gate and draping the chain back through. Damn, he’d have to ’fess up to Maggie. He didn’t want some kids to come out here and take it as an invitation to climb the tower.
In the truck, he and Emmy reported in on the encrypted channel on their separate radios.
“Kingston on SWAT One.”
“McKay on SWAT One.”
He and Emmy made it all the way to Main Street before hitting a red light that would allow him to text his sister about the unlocked gate.
Cash:Water tower lock cut. Can u send someone to fix?
Maggie:How wud u know?
Cash:Rt place at rt time
Her response was an eye roll emoji.
Back in town, Cash stopped in the middle of Main Street and idled while Emmy slid into her SUV and backed out. They both pushed the legal edge of the speed limit on their way to the scene.
Once enough team members arrived outside a mid-priced apartment building, one with brick naked of graffiti and recently painted trim, the captain gave them a quick briefing.
Definitely not a training exercise.
He and Emmy joined the standard stack formation this time, and Cash had to force back his instinct to push her behind him when she took the lead medic position.
At the suspect’s front door, the point operator called out, “Police! Open the door!”
Nothing. No answer. No call for help.
“Open up! Police!”
Not a peep from inside.
“Prepare to breach.”
The apartment door was standard issue flimsy and it didn’t take much to breach the lock, just a twist of the Halligan bar.
“Police!”
“Get your hands up!” The operators poured in, weapons at the ready. One after the other, they broke left and right into the apartment while Emmy and Cash hunkered just outside. From his vantage point, Cash could see the majority of the living room.
“Get down,” an operator yelled at a kid about fifteen years old. “On the ground.”
