Read Online The Omega Team: Assisting Aimee by Susan Stoker - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Stoker
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We have the building surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”
Chapter Eight
Aimee winced as Bill’s grasp tightened around her neck when he heard the voice over the loudspeaker. She kept her eyes on Tony, wanting to be ready for anything. She had no idea what he would be able to do, but she’d trust him with her life— was trusting him with her life at the moment.
“I want two million dollars and a helicopter,” Bill shouted back at the unknown person on the other end of the speaker.
“You know that’s not going to happen, man,” the person responded, sounding almost amused. “I want to help you, but I can’t if you make unreasonable demands. All I want is for you, Mr. Santoro, and Miss O’Brien to come out of this alive. Okay?”
“How does he know your names?” Bill hissed into Aimee’s ear.
“I don’t know,” she managed to squeak out. “I’m guessing the principal told him we weren’t outside and they assumed it was us in here.” Aimee knew good and well there were cameras in each classroom, and the gym. She’d resented them when she’d first started, feeling as if she was being spied on, but had quickly lost interest in them. It wasn’t as if the principal or anyone else was sitting around watching her teach, they had their own work to get done. Besides that, they really were a good tool when people had to observe the class, or in cases of emergencies…like this one.
“I guess we’ll see how much they like you then,” Bill mused before raising his voice to respond to the mystery man on the other end of the electronic device. “You don’t give a shit about me, so don’t pretend you do. You cops have no clue what life is really about. You sit in your fancy-ass cars, with your fancy-ass houses, with your fancy-ass wives, and look down on the rest of us who are struggling to get by. You’re so clueless, you have no idea your wife is probably fucking the neighbor the second you leave to go to work.”
“I’m not a cop,” the voice said, seemingly not ruffled in the least. “My name is Jones, and I work for an investigative agency in Florida.”
Aimee was just as confused as Bill obviously was.
He muttered under his breath, “What the fuck?” before saying it louder. “What the fuck? What is someone from Florida doing talking to me here in Texas?”
“I happened to be here on vacation,” Jones replied nonchalantly.
“Lucky me,” Bill said under his breath again. Then louder, he mocked, “Well, Jones, if that’s even your name, your wife is probably having a grand old time fucking your best friend back home on the beach while you’re here in this shithole of a town.”
Aimee had no idea what protocol was in these kinds of situations, but the man who’d called himself Jones seemed to have no sense of urgency in his voice. It was as if he was chatting Bill up at a party or something. She looked over at Tony. He was standing stock still now, but she’d noticed he’d moved about a foot closer to where Bill was standing with her in his tight grasp.
Tony’s shoulder was still bleeding, if the enlarging stain on his shirt was any indication. Amazingly though, he acted as if he didn’t even realize he was hurt. He wasn’t holding on to his arm, and didn’t even seem to be favoring it. Aimee had no idea how badly he was hurt, but surely it had to be superficial, because she figured otherwise he’d be swaying, or swearing, or something.
One thing she did know was that she’d never forget the way Tony looked right this moment. It was inappropriate as hell, but she figured God would cut her some slack if she died right now, because Tony was…glorious.
His hands were fisted at his sides, as if he was holding himself back by a mere thread. His eyes were narrowed, and focused on Bill and her. She couldn’t see his jaw under the beard, but she imagined he was probably clenching his teeth in aggravation. Amazingly, his hair was still up in a messy bun at
Chapter Eight
Aimee winced as Bill’s grasp tightened around her neck when he heard the voice over the loudspeaker. She kept her eyes on Tony, wanting to be ready for anything. She had no idea what he would be able to do, but she’d trust him with her life— was trusting him with her life at the moment.
“I want two million dollars and a helicopter,” Bill shouted back at the unknown person on the other end of the speaker.
“You know that’s not going to happen, man,” the person responded, sounding almost amused. “I want to help you, but I can’t if you make unreasonable demands. All I want is for you, Mr. Santoro, and Miss O’Brien to come out of this alive. Okay?”
“How does he know your names?” Bill hissed into Aimee’s ear.
“I don’t know,” she managed to squeak out. “I’m guessing the principal told him we weren’t outside and they assumed it was us in here.” Aimee knew good and well there were cameras in each classroom, and the gym. She’d resented them when she’d first started, feeling as if she was being spied on, but had quickly lost interest in them. It wasn’t as if the principal or anyone else was sitting around watching her teach, they had their own work to get done. Besides that, they really were a good tool when people had to observe the class, or in cases of emergencies…like this one.
“I guess we’ll see how much they like you then,” Bill mused before raising his voice to respond to the mystery man on the other end of the electronic device. “You don’t give a shit about me, so don’t pretend you do. You cops have no clue what life is really about. You sit in your fancy-ass cars, with your fancy-ass houses, with your fancy-ass wives, and look down on the rest of us who are struggling to get by. You’re so clueless, you have no idea your wife is probably fucking the neighbor the second you leave to go to work.”
“I’m not a cop,” the voice said, seemingly not ruffled in the least. “My name is Jones, and I work for an investigative agency in Florida.”
Aimee was just as confused as Bill obviously was.
He muttered under his breath, “What the fuck?” before saying it louder. “What the fuck? What is someone from Florida doing talking to me here in Texas?”
“I happened to be here on vacation,” Jones replied nonchalantly.
“Lucky me,” Bill said under his breath again. Then louder, he mocked, “Well, Jones, if that’s even your name, your wife is probably having a grand old time fucking your best friend back home on the beach while you’re here in this shithole of a town.”
Aimee had no idea what protocol was in these kinds of situations, but the man who’d called himself Jones seemed to have no sense of urgency in his voice. It was as if he was chatting Bill up at a party or something. She looked over at Tony. He was standing stock still now, but she’d noticed he’d moved about a foot closer to where Bill was standing with her in his tight grasp.
Tony’s shoulder was still bleeding, if the enlarging stain on his shirt was any indication. Amazingly though, he acted as if he didn’t even realize he was hurt. He wasn’t holding on to his arm, and didn’t even seem to be favoring it. Aimee had no idea how badly he was hurt, but surely it had to be superficial, because she figured otherwise he’d be swaying, or swearing, or something.
One thing she did know was that she’d never forget the way Tony looked right this moment. It was inappropriate as hell, but she figured God would cut her some slack if she died right now, because Tony was…glorious.
His hands were fisted at his sides, as if he was holding himself back by a mere thread. His eyes were narrowed, and focused on Bill and her. She couldn’t see his jaw under the beard, but she imagined he was probably clenching his teeth in aggravation. Amazingly, his hair was still up in a messy bun at
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