Read Online Death Row by William Bernhardt - Free Book Online
Authors: William Bernhardt
Tags: thriller
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one ever responded well to it. "My name is Mike Morelli. I'm a policeman. I want to negotiate with you. I assume there must be something you want or you wouldn't be doing this. Tell me what it is, and I'll do everything I can to make it happen. All I ask is that you don't hurt anyone. If you don't hurt anyone, no one will hurt you. You have my word on that. May I come in?"
Mike lowered the bullhorn and waited. And waited. Had the wild man with the gun agreed? Had he even heard?
Mike heard a groan of disgust from Hoppes. He tried again. "I am not armed. No gun, no knife, no nothing. You have my word. I'll come in naked, if it will make you more comfortable. I will not harm you. I just want to talk. May I come in? Please?" He waited another few seconds. No response. "Please."
A moment later, the side entrance to the Burger Bliss opened. An elderly woman who appeared to be absolutely terrified pushed her head through the door. "He says you can come in."
It worked! He was halfway home.
Now all he had to do was get those people out of there safely, Mike told himself. And not get killed in the process.
He slowly approached the side door, talking quietly into the microphone buried under his bulletproof vest.
"I'm going inside. When the SOT team arrives, put them into position, but keep them out of sight. I don't want to agitate the gunman."
"Yes sir, Major ," Hoppes snapped back.
Mike kept moving. "There doesn't seem to be any resistance. Maybe he's ready to give up."
Hoppes's voice crackled in Mike's earpiece. "Maybe he's going to shoot your sorry butt the second you come through the door."
A cheery thought. Mike heard a squeal of Jeep tires somewhere behind him. The SOT team had arrived, no doubt. In a few minutes, they would be armed with sniper rifles and waiting for a clear shot. If he was going to end this mess without bloodshed, he was going to have to move quickly.
Inside, the decor and layout looked pretty much like any other fast-food restaurant, with the standard bright plastic tabletops and the efficient order counter McDonald's had pioneered years ago. Most of the hostages sat at the tables, but a few of the employees were still behind the counter. As a whole, the hostages were staying admirably calm. A few were crying, trembling, worried that this inexpensive meal would be their last. The kids were the worst. Some of them were toddlers. They couldn't possibly comprehend what was happening or why. They just knew there was a man with a gun. And they were terrified.
He heard Hoppes barking in his ear. "Can you see him? Are you in a position to shoot him?"
"No," Mike murmured. "I don't have a weapon."
"You-what? Why in hell not?"
"Because I gave him my word."
The man with the gun had barricaded himself between two large trash receptacles. His gun was out and his hand was shaking. He was a thin, long-haired man. Couldn't be more than twenty. He was wearing a solid black T-shirt and had a few scruffy hairs on his chin passing for a goatee. He was drenched in sweat. His eyes were red and worried; they never seemed to stay in one place for more than a second.
"My name's Mike." He kept a good ten feet away. "What's yours?"
The young man whipped around, pointing his gun in Mike's direction. "Why do you want to know my name?"
Mike tried to keep his voice even. This guy was worse than on edge. He was already in the midst of a major meltdown. "No reason. Just so I know what to call you."
"You don't need to know my name!"
"All right. Then I'll just make one up. How about... Elmer?"
"That's a stupid name!" the kid shouted, waving his gun around. "Are you making fun of me?"
"Of course not. How about... Bob?"
The young man inhaled deep and long, like a diver with a bad case of the bends. "I can live with that."
Great. They'd made progress. "What is it you want, Bob?"
"I want my goddamn job back, that's what I want."
Mike's lips parted. "You used to work here?"
"Damn straight. For almost two years. Till that
Mike lowered the bullhorn and waited. And waited. Had the wild man with the gun agreed? Had he even heard?
Mike heard a groan of disgust from Hoppes. He tried again. "I am not armed. No gun, no knife, no nothing. You have my word. I'll come in naked, if it will make you more comfortable. I will not harm you. I just want to talk. May I come in? Please?" He waited another few seconds. No response. "Please."
A moment later, the side entrance to the Burger Bliss opened. An elderly woman who appeared to be absolutely terrified pushed her head through the door. "He says you can come in."
It worked! He was halfway home.
Now all he had to do was get those people out of there safely, Mike told himself. And not get killed in the process.
He slowly approached the side door, talking quietly into the microphone buried under his bulletproof vest.
"I'm going inside. When the SOT team arrives, put them into position, but keep them out of sight. I don't want to agitate the gunman."
"Yes sir, Major ," Hoppes snapped back.
Mike kept moving. "There doesn't seem to be any resistance. Maybe he's ready to give up."
Hoppes's voice crackled in Mike's earpiece. "Maybe he's going to shoot your sorry butt the second you come through the door."
A cheery thought. Mike heard a squeal of Jeep tires somewhere behind him. The SOT team had arrived, no doubt. In a few minutes, they would be armed with sniper rifles and waiting for a clear shot. If he was going to end this mess without bloodshed, he was going to have to move quickly.
Inside, the decor and layout looked pretty much like any other fast-food restaurant, with the standard bright plastic tabletops and the efficient order counter McDonald's had pioneered years ago. Most of the hostages sat at the tables, but a few of the employees were still behind the counter. As a whole, the hostages were staying admirably calm. A few were crying, trembling, worried that this inexpensive meal would be their last. The kids were the worst. Some of them were toddlers. They couldn't possibly comprehend what was happening or why. They just knew there was a man with a gun. And they were terrified.
He heard Hoppes barking in his ear. "Can you see him? Are you in a position to shoot him?"
"No," Mike murmured. "I don't have a weapon."
"You-what? Why in hell not?"
"Because I gave him my word."
The man with the gun had barricaded himself between two large trash receptacles. His gun was out and his hand was shaking. He was a thin, long-haired man. Couldn't be more than twenty. He was wearing a solid black T-shirt and had a few scruffy hairs on his chin passing for a goatee. He was drenched in sweat. His eyes were red and worried; they never seemed to stay in one place for more than a second.
"My name's Mike." He kept a good ten feet away. "What's yours?"
The young man whipped around, pointing his gun in Mike's direction. "Why do you want to know my name?"
Mike tried to keep his voice even. This guy was worse than on edge. He was already in the midst of a major meltdown. "No reason. Just so I know what to call you."
"You don't need to know my name!"
"All right. Then I'll just make one up. How about... Elmer?"
"That's a stupid name!" the kid shouted, waving his gun around. "Are you making fun of me?"
"Of course not. How about... Bob?"
The young man inhaled deep and long, like a diver with a bad case of the bends. "I can live with that."
Great. They'd made progress. "What is it you want, Bob?"
"I want my goddamn job back, that's what I want."
Mike's lips parted. "You used to work here?"
"Damn straight. For almost two years. Till that
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