SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

The sound of the megaphone system clicked on with a chirp, and the field fell eerily silent. Hart’s deep, booming voice was all that could be heard, maybe for miles. “This is Atlanta PD SWAT! We need you to exit the bus immediately and lay down your weapons. I will not ask again!”

They waited a few seconds, and when they were met with continued silence, Fox knew Hart would take that as defiance. Wrong move.

“You think you’re safe in there because I can’t see you?” his captain barked.

Fox pumped his shotgun, and the four shield men split like the Red Sea. He held his breath a fraction of a second before he pulled the trigger. The suppressed pop of the hard beanbag leaving the barrel was music to his ears as the first window shattered. The crowd erupted into shrieking gasps, and cameras flashed like strobe lights, but Fox didn’t deviate from his course. He pumped the weapon in rapid succession and took out the four large windows, filling the bus with broad daylight. The guards closed in, and Fox fell back to Hart’s side. He automatically held out his hands, and he felt the heft of the shotgun shift back to his assault rifle.

“I can see you now!” Hart boomed. “There’s nowhere for you to go, and there’s only one way this will end, and that’s our way!”

The passengers were frantic now and hollering for help. Fox’s insides buzzed like murder hornets in his stomach. He needed to save them, all of them. Hart gave the signal for the other riflemen to close in. Fox caught glimpses of the robbers’ heads, the dread and fright in their wide eyes, as they attempted to duck between the seats. But there was nowhere for them to hide.

“Come out slowly with your weapons raised above your heads, right now!” Hart said with finality and handed the mic back to Roch. He tucked his rifle into his shoulder and fell in step beside Fox.

There would be no negotiations. Their team wasn’t called in to listen to grievances or make compromises. The scene negotiator called for them when all other options had been exhausted, and it was time to bring the situation to a swift and safe ending. And that was exactly what they did.

The three men stood one after the other with their weapons high over their heads. They nervously walked off the bus in single-file, then stood frozen in place like deer in headlights.

“Down on the ground!” Fox yelled as his team secured the weapons. Once the men were cuffed, he hurried onto the bus to assist the victims.

“Hart ten to command. Suspects apprehended. Over.”

“Copy that. SWAT is clear,” Fox heard in his earpiece.

In the first seat, he found an elderly couple where a man lay bent over his wife, covering her body with his own. Fox swallowed roughly. “Sir.” He reached out and gently shook the man’s frail shoulder. “It’s okay. You can get up.”

“Everyone, walk, please! Do not push,” Dinah yelled as she helped a pregnant woman who was holding a bleeding gash on the back of her neck.

Fuck. Fox was sure he’d shot the beanbags in the top left corner of each window; there was no way it could’ve hit any passengers huddled on the floor. “Let’s get them some medical attention. Move it!” Fox demanded, feeling a painful clutch in the center of his chest.

He wouldn’t second-guess what he’d done because nothing could’ve been done differently. He knew that. They’d cleared the scene in record time, and as far as he could tell, the gunmen hadn’t had a chance to hurt anyone or formulate a successful plan. But every time he knew he was doing something right, authorities told him he was wrong.

Fox walked with his team back to their armored vehicle, tapping a few of them on their helmets to tell them good job. They had been flawless in the field as usual, and he was proud to work beside each man and woman on his team.

Fox sat at his desk in their department at eleven o’clock that night, completing tedious paperwork while his captain was in his own adjoining office next door getting a nice shoulder massage while he worked on his. Hart’s obscene groan filtered over to him, and Fox leapt to his feet so fast his chair slammed into the file cabinet behind him. He was glad his captain—his best friend—had found a boyfriend, and Lennox Freeman was an amazing guy… but Fox didn’t want to hear the joys of their love. Especially tonight. Not when the tension in his neck had built to the point of discomfort and there was no one to rub his knots but himself. Growling, he went to the wall that separated their offices and slammed the inlaid blinds to the closed position.