Read Online Death Row by William Bernhardt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Bernhardt
Tags: thriller
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situation had gone from grim to dire. Ben knew the snipers wouldn't shoot as long as he was moving and had hostages all around him. The brick walls beneath the windows prevented them from shooting below the chest, and a head shot, even if it hit Bob first, could easily travel on to one of the hostages.
"What's happening in there?" Hoppes was shouting into Mike's earpiece. "Fill me in!"
Mike didn't say a word. He couldn't take the risk.
"You can't hide from me!" Bob cried.
Maybe not, Mike thought, but I can damn sure try. He crawled to the other end of the condiment counter, hoping he could flank Bob and get behind him.
"Can you get him to drop the hostages?" Hoppes's voice crackled. "Or force him closer to the windows?"
"No," Mike whispered. "I can't."
"What do you want us to do?"
"Just stay put and keep your men out of sight. There's still a chance I can-"
"All right," Bob shouted, "you won't show yourself? Fine. I'll kill someone else!"
Mike cried out, "No!" But it was too late. A second later, the gun fired and the elderly woman who had opened the door for him crumpled to the floor.
"What's going on?" Hoppes asked. "What should I do?"
"Take him out," Mike growled.
"Still won't show yourself?" Bob said. "Fine. Here comes victim number two!"
"We can't get a clear shot," Hoppes said.
Mike sprang forward, snatching the baby away and shoving the mother to the floor. "Now!" he barked.
A nanosecond later, five rifles fired at once. Three of the bullets hit Bob, making him twitch like a dissected frog. The mother crawled to safety, and as soon as she did, bullets rained down on Bob. He looked like a wind sock caught in a tornado. He was torn one way then another, twitching as if suffering from some uncontrollable spasm, until finally, mercifully, his body crumpled lifelessly to the floor.
"All clear?" Hoppes asked.
"All clear," Mike whispered back. "Get some medics in here."
Mike returned the baby to its mother and looked for the people who were hurt. There were many. Way too many. At least five people injured, maybe fatally. And the woman by the door was definitely dead.
What a stupid, pointless waste. This could've been handled bloodlessly, Mike was sure of it. But instead, blood was everywhere. All over everything. Including him.
It was a tragedy, a stupid loss of life. And he knew what would happen once Chief Blackwell got wind of this. Worse, once the press got wind of it. Every move, every action he had taken would be scrutinized. Every judgment call would be questioned. And when the investigation was over, someone would have to pay.
And he had a pretty good idea who it would be.
Chapter 5
"How often do you have sexual feelings?"
"I do not have... sexual feelings."
"None at all?"
"Not anymore."
"Not even occasionally?"
"Of course not. You know why."
"Still, there must be something."
"Perhaps once. Several months ago. While I slept."
"What were you dreaming about?"
"I don't remember."
Gabriel Aravena hated these sessions. He'd be willing to do anything to avoid them-anything except break parole, that is. Life was full of unpleasantness. He didn't enjoy his visits with his parole officer. He didn't enjoy his work. But he despised his sessions with the psychiatrist.
Dr. Hayley Bennett was a thin, auburn-haired, angular woman. She wore black-rimmed glasses although Aravena suspected she didn't really need them. More a fashion statement, he thought, or a protective barrier between herself and her patients.
He didn't know why he hated these sessions so. Objectively, she should have been his favorite. She was much easier to look at than his PA, and he didn't sense the wariness, the suspicion, he did there. Which was ironic, in a way. Given all he had done, the woman should be the one who wanted the least to do with him.
"Have you been taking the medication?" Dr. Bennett asked, crossing her legs in a manner that, at another time, he might have considered provocative.
"Do I have a choice?" A
"What's happening in there?" Hoppes was shouting into Mike's earpiece. "Fill me in!"
Mike didn't say a word. He couldn't take the risk.
"You can't hide from me!" Bob cried.
Maybe not, Mike thought, but I can damn sure try. He crawled to the other end of the condiment counter, hoping he could flank Bob and get behind him.
"Can you get him to drop the hostages?" Hoppes's voice crackled. "Or force him closer to the windows?"
"No," Mike whispered. "I can't."
"What do you want us to do?"
"Just stay put and keep your men out of sight. There's still a chance I can-"
"All right," Bob shouted, "you won't show yourself? Fine. I'll kill someone else!"
Mike cried out, "No!" But it was too late. A second later, the gun fired and the elderly woman who had opened the door for him crumpled to the floor.
"What's going on?" Hoppes asked. "What should I do?"
"Take him out," Mike growled.
"Still won't show yourself?" Bob said. "Fine. Here comes victim number two!"
"We can't get a clear shot," Hoppes said.
Mike sprang forward, snatching the baby away and shoving the mother to the floor. "Now!" he barked.
A nanosecond later, five rifles fired at once. Three of the bullets hit Bob, making him twitch like a dissected frog. The mother crawled to safety, and as soon as she did, bullets rained down on Bob. He looked like a wind sock caught in a tornado. He was torn one way then another, twitching as if suffering from some uncontrollable spasm, until finally, mercifully, his body crumpled lifelessly to the floor.
"All clear?" Hoppes asked.
"All clear," Mike whispered back. "Get some medics in here."
Mike returned the baby to its mother and looked for the people who were hurt. There were many. Way too many. At least five people injured, maybe fatally. And the woman by the door was definitely dead.
What a stupid, pointless waste. This could've been handled bloodlessly, Mike was sure of it. But instead, blood was everywhere. All over everything. Including him.
It was a tragedy, a stupid loss of life. And he knew what would happen once Chief Blackwell got wind of this. Worse, once the press got wind of it. Every move, every action he had taken would be scrutinized. Every judgment call would be questioned. And when the investigation was over, someone would have to pay.
And he had a pretty good idea who it would be.
Chapter 5
"How often do you have sexual feelings?"
"I do not have... sexual feelings."
"None at all?"
"Not anymore."
"Not even occasionally?"
"Of course not. You know why."
"Still, there must be something."
"Perhaps once. Several months ago. While I slept."
"What were you dreaming about?"
"I don't remember."
Gabriel Aravena hated these sessions. He'd be willing to do anything to avoid them-anything except break parole, that is. Life was full of unpleasantness. He didn't enjoy his visits with his parole officer. He didn't enjoy his work. But he despised his sessions with the psychiatrist.
Dr. Hayley Bennett was a thin, auburn-haired, angular woman. She wore black-rimmed glasses although Aravena suspected she didn't really need them. More a fashion statement, he thought, or a protective barrier between herself and her patients.
He didn't know why he hated these sessions so. Objectively, she should have been his favorite. She was much easier to look at than his PA, and he didn't sense the wariness, the suspicion, he did there. Which was ironic, in a way. Given all he had done, the woman should be the one who wanted the least to do with him.
"Have you been taking the medication?" Dr. Bennett asked, crossing her legs in a manner that, at another time, he might have considered provocative.
"Do I have a choice?" A
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