Chapter 188

... But then Tate saw something. Caitlin had just winked at him, a slow deliberate wink, obviously meant to get his attention. Out of McMasters' sight, she slid her right hand casually down to her thigh, spreading her index and middle fingers as far apart as she could make them go. The wink in addition to the movement and positioning of her hand and fingers alerted the Sheriff.

Oh, bless you, Joyce. You told your sister-wife about our hostage training, Tate thought.

Each time the deputies trained on the firing range, they also practiced taking down a perp who held a deputy hostage with a gun to his or her head. I wonder if Caitlin actually practiced this, or just remembers Joyce telling her about it.

Tate turned his right boot a little outward in acknowledgment. He could see Caitlin shift her eyes downward to look at his foot, then back up to stare him in the eye just as he and his deputies had trained.

"I don't want to die," she said in a trembling voice, stressing the last word at the same time she changed her fingers into a fist with her index finger pointed downward.

One, Tate thought.

McMasters continued to rave, obviously becoming more and more unhinged.

After a moment, Caitlin whimpered, "I don't want to die." Again, stressing the last word.

Tate didn't have to look to see if she were showing two fingers now – he knew. Two, he thought, the focus on his sights now taking up almost his entire being as he waited for Caitlin's command to fire. The hostage deputy was always in charge of the shoot – no shoot. It was the hostage deputy's life at stake. Now the nurse was making that decision. But Tate was worried. If she hesitated at the last moment ... He didn't even want to think about the consequences.

"What the fuck is going on with you two?" McMasters yelled. "I know you're doing something."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Caitlin whined. "I'm so scared, but I don't want to die." Timed to the word "die," she relaxed and dropped just as she uttered the last word.

Her weight suddenly jerked against McMasters' arm, her full weight slamming past. As hard as he was holding her, his forearm raked across her nose and face, but she didn't even feel the pain. Caitlin and Tate knew she would drop, and exactly when. "When" being the third time Caitlin stressed out the word die, but McMasters reflexes would have had to cut in before he could react. By then, Caitlin's head was well away from the gun, and Tate's .45 roared, the big round catching McMasters on his right eyebrow. The bullet passed through and out the back of his head turning his brain to mush, splattering a trail of blood and gore before expending the last of the bullet's energy on the cinder block wall thirty feet behind Caitlin and McMasters.

Caitlin was suddenly sitting on her butt with McMasters' dead body slumped over her, crushing her forward, his head gushing blood. "He's bleeding all over me," she hissed out as she struggled to get him off her. Quinton automatically holstered his weapon. A second later, he stooped over, and with an enhanced Alpha's strength, grabbed McMasters by the hair, slinging his dead body away from Caitlin.

"You okay, Baby?" Tate choked out as she reached for him. He pulled her to her feet as the hallway exploded with deputies. "It's over and the hostage is fine," Tate told dispatch just before he released the mike button to return to its normal position. "Let's go sit down and wait for your husband," Quinton managed to get out as he fought to keep his hands from shaking due to the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"I've got blood all over me," Caitlin sniffed. "I hope that bastard doesn't have AIDS." Then focusing on Quinton, "You'll get blood on your nice uniform," she said almost inanely, fighting the shock of what had just happened to her.

"Hush, Baby," the big man said as he scooped her into his arms, walked into McMasters' office and sat down in the dead man's chair with Caitlin in his lap.

Caitlin turned her face to his shoulder and quietly sobbed, her body shaking.

"You did great, Baby," he whispered in her ear while gently patting her back. "I'm proud of you, and your husband will be, too. I've trained for that dozens of times and I've never seen a deputy do it better."

"Joyce saved my life," she whispered, then repeated, "She saved my life."

"Both our lives, most probably," Tate agreed.

"She made us all practice it," Caitlin said with a shiver. "I griped about it and reminded her I was a nurse and not a deputy, insisting I would never need that type of training, but that made no difference, period. She made me practice, anyway. She made all of us practice. And ... your wives should be proud of you, too. I knew I would live when I saw you acknowledge that I knew the procedure. I'll never forget that you killed that man to save me. Never."

"I don't think I've ever heard it called a procedure before," Tate chuckled. "But you did it perfectly, whatever you want to call it."

The Shift Lieutenant stepped into the office doorway and cleared his throat. "Does any of that blood happen to belong to either of you?" he quietly asked, "I have a doctor and nurse standing by just around the corner."

Tate shook his head. "No, all of it is the perp's. Just have someone get Caitlin some water, and ... escort her husband in when he gets here."

The Lieutenant said something to someone in the hall before turning back to the Sheriff.

"Dispatch told me they had talked to Matthews' Security, per your instructions," the Lieutenant said, "but it will probably be a while..."

"He'll be here very soon," Tate insisted. "Just let the deputies know that no one is to try to stop him, then you, personally, escort him in."

"Yes, Sir. Uh, Sir, there's another oddity about this morning. There's a big helicopter sitting at the far end of the parking lot. I can see the two pilots, and the big door is open on the side of the thing, but no one has gotten out. One of the deputies said he saw another helicopter go over, but because of the low cloud cover, it disappeared before he could get a really good look at it. Another odd thing: it wasn't making any noise. He said it looked a little like an Apache, but its weapon pods seemed wrong, somehow. Do you have any idea what they're doing here?"

Tate forced a chuckle. "No, but just ignore both choppers, and make sure no one approaches the chopper in the lot. No one, Lieutenant. Understand?"

"Yes, Sheriff. I've already told my people to make sure the copter isn't approached. What's going on, Sir?"

"Let's just say that dead fool in the hallway poked a hornet's nest." As the Lieutenant turned to leave, "Oh, Lieutenant, make sure the news media doesn't get within a block of here. Hostage situation and so forth. Unsafe for them. You know the drill."

A deputy handed the Lieutenant two bottles of water, which he gave to Tate and Caitlin.

"Thank you," Caitlin said before gulping down a third of the bottle.

"Uh, Sir. A couple of other things. Our cell phones, and apparently everyone else's around here, have stopped working. Land lines too. Seems the same thing has happened for radio transmissions, with the exception of our two channels. The only communications going in or out of here are ours."

"Go watch for Mr. Matthews. He'll be here momentarily."

"Yes, Sir."

A few minutes earlier, the Administrator's secretary had just walked back into Adair's office to give the latest report on the hostage situation. Solomon, nervous, jumped to his feet to badger her with questions she didn't know the answer to. Just as she opened her mouth to tell them the little she knew, Tate pulled the trigger on his .45.

The blast of sound from the big-bore weapon echoing through the halls did it. Solomon hissed in a deep breath and fainted, going over backward and hitting his head with a thud on the carpeted floor.

The Administrator jumped from the sound of the .45, then trying to sound calm and in control, although his breaking voice belied his efforts, he remarked, "Uh, I assume our hostage situation has reached a conclusion." Shaking, he stood to look over his desk at the Procurement assistant lying on the floor. "Hmmmm, I've never seen anyone's eyes do that," he said, indicating Solomon lying there with his eyes rolled back in his head. "Do you suppose that hurts?" he asked as he tried to cover his own terror.

"Should I send the deputy after a doctor?" his secretary asked. "None of our phones will work."

"No," Adair said as he sat back in his chair, "but you can tell the deputy in the hallway that one of the people I wanted to talk to the Sheriff about has passed out in my office."

A few minutes later, Solomon awakened to find that his hands were behind his back and he couldn't seem to make them move very much. Panic set in again as he struggled to sit upright, his mind still groggy. What's wrong with my arms? he thought, but then realized there was a deputy and a cop sitting not far from him.

"If you keep struggling, those cuffs are going to bite into your wrists," the deputy commented. "As soon as I finish this report, we'll get you to headquarters and processed."

"Wha..." Solomon got out. "I'm ... I'm under arrest? What about the gunshot?"

The deputy ignored Solomon's question about the gunshot. "We're going to hold you until we find out what has been going on. I'm almost finished with the preliminary report."

"I ... think I need a lawyer," Solomon said with resignation.

"When we get to headquarters, we'll let you use the phone. Just sit tight for now."

"But what about the gunshot?"

"Need to know," the deputy snapped back at him, "and you don't."

Jeff had been notified that Caitlin was fine and was with Sheriff Tate. The Prime had slowed to a fairly reasonable speed, at least in his mind, though his worries continued, albeit to a much lesser degree. As they neared the hospital, there were Sheriff's vehicles and two Winter Park police cars scattered near the hospital, not to mention Security's copter sitting on the back side of the lot, its big door open. Jeff almost smiled as he realized that this would be a good test of the camouflage suits in an urban environment, but then his frown returned as he worried about Caitlin.

Jeff's escorting helicopter took up a position a half mile out to the west, so the two copters wouldn't be in each other's line of fire, should something happen. Friend or foe capabilities should work, but better to not have to rely on them. Due to the low cloud, the only one who could see the copters was Jeff.

A deputy waved to the Matthews and motioned for them to park near the back entrance to the hospital. When they came to a stop, the Shift Lieutenant reached to open Jeff's door. "She's fine, Sir. Not a scratch on her, thanks to Sheriff Tate."

Jeff forced a smile. "Good. Thanks for letting me know so quickly."

Before the Lieutenant could continue, Diana, Arlene and Kayla piled out in a rush. Remembering what the Sheriff had put into written orders, he addressed Jeff, "Uh, Sir, your, uh..."

"Wife," Jeff offered.

"Uh, she's unhurt as I said, and I'm to escort you in. She has some blood on her, but it's the perp's. Just stay on the right side of the hallway and follow behind me so you don't step in the blood."

But Jeff was already through the back door before the Lieutenant managed to get in front of him. The three women pushed past as they hurried after their husband.

As Jeff stepped into the office, Caitlin dropped her bottle of water, took a couple of running steps and crashed into her mate's arms. Tate, grinning, snatched the bottle off the floor before much water could spill.

"Blood," Diana said.

"Not hers," Quinton got out. "It belongs to the ass in the hallway."

"Baby. Baby. Baby," Jeff said, cuddling his wife to him as she sobbed on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she sniffed past her tears. "Quinton killed him, or I would be ... dead by now."

Jeff directed a glance at Tate, and with the briefest nod of the Prime's head, he communicated his thanks. Somehow, Tate felt those thanks, and the big man blushed.

Diana walked over to Quinton and leaned to gently kiss him on the lips. Backing off a few inches, "Thank you," she quietly said. "We can never repay you for what you did."

Tate, flustered, managed, "I couldn't let her get hurt, and besides, Joyce is the one who really saved her when she taught Caitlin the thing about hostages."

"You mean where you drop so the officer can shoot safely?" Diana asked with a frown.

By now, everyone in the room was listening. "Yeah. She was perfect."

"Joyce taught all of us."

"Yeah, that's what Caitlin told me," the Sheriff remarked.

"Joyce will be here in a few minutes," Jeff commented after listening to his radio for a moment. "Security is bringing her in another vehicle. What do you want us to do, Quinton? When can I take Caitlin home?"