Intemperance Volume 2 Standing On TopChapter 10c
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SamChapter 10C free porn video
I repacked the bag and put it on. With it in place around my hips, the bag rode just above my butt. In that position, the weight was hardly noticeable.
Just to be sure it wasn't going to be a problem; I played around on my monkey bars with it on. I had a lot of fun bracing myself in different positions on the bars and then dropping to the mat from the ceiling, like a spider on its prey. Every time I did it, it made Bambi jump.
I also tried climbing up and down the pegboard. I found that I could make it much harder if I used the holes that were as far apart as I could reach. That required much more strength and perfect timing to do.
When Neeka got back, carrying a garment bag, Bambi and I were sitting at the desk, poring over the manual for the radio. We had managed to get it turned on, and were listening to the general channel to get a feel for how it was used and how people sounded. I was surprised at the clarity of the voices that we heard. I had expected a lot of static and garbled messages, but there was none of that. I had also expected a lot more formality and use of 'Roger' and 'Over' and that sort of thing, but except for the frequent use of the 10-something codes, there was very little formality.
We both laughed the first time we heard someone say, "Dispatch, show unit P31 as 10-10, I gotta take a leak." Obviously 10-10, which was on the list as 'Temporarily Out of Service' actually meant 'Restroom Break'.
We left the radio on while Neeka got into her outfit. She had a pair of black stretch stirrup-pants, a low-cut black knit top with thin shoulder straps and a leather double-breasted jacket. She also had a pair of short black leather boots and a black chauffeurs cap. With the wraparound sunglasses, she looked like the chauffeur for some biker gang. All she needed was some chains hanging from the jacket and an Iron Cross embroidered on the back.
With the front flap of the jacket buttoned back, she showed a good amount of cleavage. When she pinned her shoulder-length red hair up and hid it under the cap, she looked very imposing and stunningly beautiful.
We were so busy posing and admiring ourselves that we didn't catch the first of the radio calls reporting 'robbery in progress'. By the time we started listening, the number of calls had picked up and the urgency in the voices was obvious.
As best as we could piece together from what we heard, there had been a robbery at a grocery store out on Highway 15 on the outskirts of town. Several units had been dispatched there and an announcement was made by the dispatch operator that unit Sierra-One was on-scene and in command. We were listening intently, trying to figure out what was going on when we heard the call, "Sierra-One to Delta-Romeo-One. Delta-Romeo-One, do you copy?"
I was waiting to hear the reply, when Bambi said, "That's you, honey!"
The call came again, "Sierra-One to DR-1. Do you copy?"
I swallowed a giant lump in my throat and pressed the bar on the base of the microphone. The click and the sudden silence were terrifying. I said in as firm a voice as I could manage, "Delta-Romeo-One copies Sierra-One. Go ahead."
"DR-1, Sierra-One requests assistance at 1340 North Highway 15. We have a situation here I hope you can help us with." Sheriff Foster's voice sounded tense.
"Delta-Romeo-One copies. Dragon is en route." My voice sounded more confident than I felt.
"Thank you, DR-1. Please hurry."
Neeka and I looked at each other and the same thought echoed through both our minds, "So soon! I thought we'd have more time!"
Bambi said, "That's the Big Star on the north side of town. You'll need to hurry to beat the rush hour traffic."
We all ran to the other end of the room. Neeka jumped on the bike, Bambi hauled the double doors open and I steeled myself to climb aboard the bike behind Neeka.
When the big bike started up, I thought my knees would fail me. I had just started to climb aboard when I thought of something. I ran back to the desk, got my badge and ID out of my bookbag and stuffed it into the fanny pack.
Wishing I had time to run to the bathroom first, I hauled my butt onto the leather seat behind Neeka and held onto her waist as she raced the engine and launched us out the door. She was using the request to hurry as an excuse to see what the bike would do.
I wish I could describe the trip to the crime scene, but the truth is, I had my eyes closed most of the way. I remember us tilting to one side and then the other so far that I was sure we would fall over and go sliding across the asphalt. I remember peeking out of one eye whenever Neeka stopped at traffic signals, and vainly hoping that the trip was over each time we slowed down. At some point the wind blew my cowl back off my head. I could feel it blowing through my short blonde hair.
After what must have been much less time than it seemed, Neeka nudged me and I opened my eyes and looked over her shoulder. We had arrived at the store and were approaching the parking lot. Ahead was a police cruiser blocking the entrance and a deputy waving at us to stop. Neeka coasted to a halt beside him.
"I'm sorry girls, but you'll have come back some other time. The store is closed right now." He seemed polite enough, but his gaze seemed to be more attracted to Neeka's cleavage than the badge I held out to him.
"Where is Sheriff Foster?" I asked.
The deputy allowed himself to be distracted long enough to look at my shield and answer my question.
"The command post is on the north side of the building," he said, looking from the ID to me and back again as though suspecting some trickery. "Look for the truck, you can't miss it."
"Thank you," I managed to shout as Neeka roared off into the parking lot in search of the truck.
The command post was right where the deputy said. Neeka drove up beside the big vehicle and hit the brakes so hard I slid into her back as we came to a stop. I was off the bike instantly and headed around the truck with Neeka right behind when Sheriff Foster and a man in a black uniform and a vest with pockets all over it stepped out to meet us.
"Who the hell are you two?" The officer in black demanded. "Don't you know..." He was interrupted by the Sheriff before he could finish.
"Can it, Grogan! This is the help I told you was coming."
From the way he looked at us, Grogan obviously had strong doubts about what help we might be. He opened his mouth to express them, but shut it again when the Sheriff addressed me.
"Who's this?" He said, indicating Neeka. "Your chauffeur?"
"Yes, at my agency we like to go first class." I said. He looked at Neeka, the bike, and me. I think he thought he was being put on, but he didn't dare laugh. I decided to save him from his dilemma. "She's also my Communicator. If you talk to her, you're talking to me. She will keep you advised of what I'm doing and where I am and if I need anything."
Foster obviously didn't understand, but the concept was clear enough. He nodded to Neeka. She touched two fingers to the brim of her cap in acknowledgement.
"What's the situation?" I asked.
"We've got a robbery gone bad, I'm afraid. Two armed men tried to hold up the grocery store here about an hour ago. The manager saw what was happening and locked the safe and ran out the back. Not willing to give it up, at that point the robbers took hostages. They've got two female clerks, a bag boy, and four customers — two women and two children.
"It's the kids that bother me. If I go with Lieutenant Grogan's recommendation and call for the full SWAT team, it will take at least a couple more hours to get setup for an assault. I don't want to let this go that long. I want it resolved as soon as fucking possible so we can get those kids out of there. If it was just adults, I might let them stew for a while, but every second we wait, those children are just going to be more traumatized.
"If we wait, rush hour will be in full swing and traffic that would normally go through here will be backed up for miles. An assault will almost certainly mean gunfire, and I don't want to risk any stray shots with the road packed with traffic.
"You see, I'm in a pickle. I need to end this fast and I don't want gunfire. You are the best chance we have to take those two out quickly, before they hurt anyone."
I nodded. This was exactly the kind of situation I had told Foster I could help with.
"What's the tactical situation?" I asked, hoping to sound professional.
"Grogan?" The Sheriff said.
"Two Caucasian males, mid-twenties. Baggy clothes. Canvas shorts and t-shirts. One is armed with a double-barreled shotgun. We think the other has a knife, but the witness wasn't sure. They are in the back of the store near the meat department. The hostages are on the floor beside the refrigerated cases. The perps are walking back and forth between them and the aisles. This makes it tough to get to them with sniper fire. If it was just one, or if they would stand still for more than a few seconds..." Grogan's unhappiness with the situation was clear. He swallowed his anger and went on. "We have two men at the southeast corner of the building, and two over behind that parked car across from the main entrance. Another two are watching the freight entrance around back. The two behind the car have limited sight into the back of the store, so we know where everyone is, but not all of them are visible at one time."
"OK," I said, thinking about how to sneak up on two armed men without getting a lot of innocent people killed. "I'll go in the back and approach from there. My associate will keep you informed."
As I jogged off down the side of the building, I heard Grogan and the Sheriff talking.
"She's just a little girl! What the hell is she going to do? We're just giving them another damn hostage. She's not even armed. I doubt she has more than a tube of lipstick in that fanny pack."
"Grogan, shut up. That little girl is the scariest bad-ass in this town. I've seen her work... and the aftermath. You go call for an ambulance."
Despite the Sheriff's conviction that he had just sentenced the two robbers to a trip to the emergency room, I swore I would try to bring this off without anyone getting hurt if I could at all avoid it. Not even me.
When I turned the corner of the building, I saw a black-and-white parked next to the loading dock. One officer was peeking around the open freight door. He heard me coming up behind him and turned around. I saw that his nametag said 'Rosario'.
"Where's your partner?" I asked.
"Inside, trying to get close enough to eavesdrop on them," he said. "Who are you?"
"The cavalry. Wait here until you get orders to move in. Or until you hear gunfire, in which case something has gone very wrong. Got it?"
"Yeah, but..."
I left Officer Rosario and crept into the dark storeroom. There were big metal light fixtures in the ceiling, but they were off. The only light came from the opening behind me and the windows in the door ahead. As I got closer to the swinging door leading to the front of the store, I saw Officer Murphy craning his head around a pallet of dishwashing powder. He was trying to hear what was going on in the store without being seen by the robbers.
The crepe soles on my shoes were as silent as if I were walking across a plush carpet. I got right up behind Murphy without him even knowing I was there. I put out a hand and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hello Murphy," I said in a whisper.
He jerked but didn't make a sound. After a few seconds of deep breathing, he turned to look at me.
"Who the hell are you?" He said in a strained whisper.
"Got that citation yet, Murphy?" I asked smiling.
"No, that's on for next week. Who are you?"
"I'm your fairy godmother. I'm the one who leaves hold-up suspects lying around on street corners for lucky deputies to scrape up. In a minute, I'm going in there and deal with those two. I want to know that you're chilling here so I don't have to worry about what's behind me. If you aren't cool, go back and wait with Rosario."
"I'm good. Really."
"Great. Wait here. When I have them both disarmed and down, come and cover them and we'll get them cuffed. OK?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Anything I have to, Murphy. Anything I have to." I wanted to laugh out loud at my false bravado. I didn't have a clue what the hell I was going to do. But the time had come for me to do it.
I slipped away from Murphy and knelt on the floor right behind the right-hand panel of the double swinging doors. I eased up until I could see out the small, grimy window. I had to stand on my toes to do it.
The robbers were pacing up and down in front of the row of refrigerated cases about thirty feet to my left. I couldn't see the hostages, but they must have been on the floor at the robbers' feet because they kept looking down as they paced.
I watched for a bit to see if they followed some kind of pattern. The one with the shotgun was closest to me and always came close to the end of the row of cases before he turned to go back toward the hostages. His buddy never left the area where I thought the hostages must be. I noticed that the buddy held a knife in his right hand and waved it around as he paced. Both of them seemed highly agitated. Their movements were jerky and abrupt and the gestures they made indicated frustration. I thought the Sheriff was probably right to be worried. These two looked like they might do something stupid and violent any minute.
I decided that the one with the shotgun had to be my first priority. He could do the most damage of the two. When he was down I could go for the one with the knife.
I slid back down to the floor and 'spoke' to Neeka.
"I'm at the door to the front of the store. Murphy is here with me. He's going to back me up. Has the situation out there changed any?"
Her voice rang clearly in my head, "Just a sec... no. No changes. Everyone is still in the same position. Good luck, Sam."
I went back over to Murphy to attend to one final item.
"Look, Murphy, I'm going to show you something now so you won't be startled later, OK?"
He nodded assent, if not understanding. I looked right in his eyes and took on the aspect of the Dragon. His eyes went real big when my face changed, but after a second he nodded again. In the dim light of the storeroom, it must have been a chilling sight. I was going to need it to startle the robbers into what, if I was lucky, would be immobility.
I went back to the door and knelt behind the left-hand panel. I closed my eyes briefly and tranced. It was harder to do with my heart pounding in my chest and my nerves screaming at me and the shadows of doubt flickering at the edge of my vision, but I managed. Trance made everything seem to happen slower. I hoped that would give me another edge.
With a last deep breath, I slowly eased the right—hand door panel inward. When it was open enough for me to crawl through, I wedged it in place with a block of wood that was on the floor for that purpose.
I pulled the cowl up over my head as far as it would go and lay down flat on the floor with one eye looking around the door. I waited until the robber with the shotgun turned his back to me and started to crawl through the door. I had only gone a few feet when I realized that I couldn't get as flat to the floor as I wanted. There was a gap in my contact with the floor caused by two significant parts of my anatomy.
I carefully rolled over on my back and slowly backstroked my way out to the end of the nearest row of cases. I got there just as the guy with the shotgun did. I lay motionless on the floor on the backside of the display case as he turned and walked back the other way.
As soon as I heard his retreating footsteps, I crawled around the end of the case and peeked around it with my head pressed to the floor. Everything was as I expected. The hostages were sitting in a row, bunched together at the feet of the knife-waver. They all looked scared to death. The women customers held their children to them with a grip that was more desperation than comforting. I could see that the kids were two little girls, both about seven years old. Their faces were so screwed up with fear that it was painful to look at them. I fought back my emotional reaction as hard as I could. I tried not to think about them and that they were only eleven years younger than me. I put out of my mind that they looked just like I had at that age and that they had mothers that loved them very much. Sure I did.
When I heard the robber approach, I eased up into a crouch at the end of the case. I leaned onto it, put my head down and waited for him to walk past me. When he was two steps by, I stepped out behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around and the barrel of the gun slapped right into my waiting hand. With my other hand I brushed his hand off the stock and I bent down and slid the shotgun across the floor toward the storeroom door. It slid halfway through and stopped.
That was good enough, I thought. The first robber was no longer a problem. If he went for the gun, he would run right into Murphy and without the gun, he was no longer number one on my list of priorities.
I spun around and took one step toward his buddy with the knife, when I saw the shiny handgun stuck in his waistband. That changed things. He was at least twenty feet away. I might be able to get to him before he dropped the knife and pulled the gun or I might not. In the split-second while I was trying to make up my mind, the first robber made up his. Instead of going after the shotgun, he grabbed my arms.
I was about to yank free, when I saw the guy with the knife smile and start toward me with the knife held at the ready. He thought his friend had me under control, so he felt secure enough to rely on the blade, rather than switching to the gun. The blade couldn't hurt me much, and the further he got from the hostages, the better I liked it. I faked struggling and waited for him to come to me.
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