Chapter 6

SIX

Kenzie and the others had taken cover behind Dolly, thinking the shattering glass was caused by bullets, not an explosive. Her ears were ringing despite the distance they'd been from the blast.

But James...

And Cole...

She gathered her wits, scrambled to her feet, and darted to the side of the tactical vehicle and scanned the scene. A small crater in the concrete smoked, but no bodies were nearby. "Report in, everyone," she ordered.

"I'm good." James ducked out from behind the dumpster, looking none the worse for wear.

But where was Cole?

"We're going to have to go in." Cole's voice came through her comms as though he heard her silent thought.

She vaguely registered surprise that she could hear through the ringing. "James? You sure you're good? You were closest."

"I'm a little deafened, but all in one piece."

"Thank God," she thought she heard Cole whisper. Then his voice came back louder. "You know the formation. Let's go."

She and the others crept forward, weapons gripped tight, caution in every rigid muscle. Where there was one grenade, there could always be more.

The hostage negotiator was on the megaphone. "Come on, won't you pick up the phone?" They'd tossed one inside and gotten a hand grenade as a thank-you.

While the negotiator kept trying for contact, Cole stepped from behind the police car and fell in with them.

"Don't shoot me!"

The young voice came from inside the building. Cole held up a hand and everyone froze.

Then shots came from across the street.

Greene yelped and spun, but stayed on his feet and turned to fire behind him while he ducked behind an old forklift parked up against the side of the building.

Another spate of pops split the air.

Buzz screamed and went down. Otis barked. The officers behind them hollered and continued to return fire.

"Take cover! Take cover!"

Cole's shout echoed through the chaos, but Buzz was on the ground. Kenzie darted toward the man, grabbed his good arm, and yanked him to his feet with adrenaline-born strength.

Bullets whipped past her, and she expected to feel one find its mark any second, but the officers returning fire must have rattled the shooter enough that he was off his game.

Kenzie shoved Buzz into the warehouse. Butler followed, ducking to the side of the door while Buzz sank to the floor, his hand wrapped around his upper bicep, blood leaking through his fingers. "Man, that stings."

Kenzie went back to the door. "Greene!"

"I'm good! Stay down!"

She hefted her weapon and glanced out the door once more, looking for anyone she could help. A bullet pinged off the metal above her head and she slammed the door.

Buzz grunted and Kenzie swept the area with her gaze. It was quiet. Too quiet even with the chaos still raging outside. "Thought this was a hostage situation," she whispered. "Where's the situation?"

"Yeah." Butler shifted, his weapon aimed at the darkness.

Thanks to the light filtering through the dirty windows above the door and along the wall Buzz leaned against, Kenzie could see about ten feet in front of her. Boxes lay scattered, trash littered the floor. Wooden pallets leaned against the wall, but that was as far as she could see. "Cover us, please," she told Butler. "I need to see to Buzz."

"I got it."

Kenzie dropped next to Buzz. "You okay?"

He quirked a brow at her. "Was counting on you to tell me."

"Someone's in here," Butler said.

Buzz nodded. "I heard him. Sounded like a kid. I'll be all right. Go find him."

More bullets sprayed the side of the building, taking out another window to her right. Kenzie crouched low and aimed her gun into the dark, musty interior of the warehouse, worried about Butler going farther alone. "Who's in here? Call out but stay down!"

The gunfire continued outside, loud pops that came fast and furious along with the answering fire from the cops who had cover. Kenzie thought she heard something not too far from where she stood. Feeling horribly exposed but needing to find who was in there—especially if it was a scared kid—she motioned to Buzz that she was going farther in to cover Butler. She pulled the Maglite from her pocket and aimed it into the darkness, flicking it over the discarded trash, empty beer bottles, evidence of drug use, and more.

James, Cole, and Greene burst in, stopping Kenzie's progress. Greene was tucked under Cole's shoulder, fighting to drag in a breath. He collapsed just inside the door next to Buzz even while he kept his weapon ready to snap up should he need it. Kenzie hurried to Greene, who waved her off.

"Got my vest."

James covered the area in the shadows beyond, while Cole hurried to Buzz, who shook his head. "It's just a flesh wound. I'm fine."

"Fine's stretching it."

Buzz stood, his face etched in granite—except she caught the flash of pain in his eyes before he was able to blink it away. "Need to clear this place. There's a kid in here and who knows who else?"

"Stay down," Cole said. "We'll find him."

Preferably before another hand grenade went off.

Buzz hesitated, then sank back to the floor.

Butler stepped toward the darkness. "You sure it was a kid?"

"Sounded like it," Kenzie said. "Voice was still high-pitched and a little cracky." She stood beside Butler to search the black hole with a narrowed gaze. It was useless. With no windows on the back wall, there was nothing to illuminate the inside and the Maglites weren't picking anything up.

"Anyone else hit?" she asked Cole.

"Just Buzz and Greene."

"Lucky us," Greene muttered.

Cole shifted and pressed a finger to his ear. "Where are you, Magic?"

"Pinned down in Dolly," the man said over the comms. "As soon as I can get in there without getting shot, I'll be there."

"Stay put," Cole said. "Don't take any chances. King, stay with Buzz and Greene. Butler, Cross. Clear the back."

As long as her medical expertise was needed, she wouldn't be clearing warehouses. And she was fine with that. Now that she knew the guys had the warehouse covered, Kenzie hurried back to Buzz. She knelt next to him, and he moved his hand so she could get a look. Blood seeped but wasn't spurting. She checked for an exit wound and sighed. "Sorry to tell you this, but you've got a bullet in there."

"So get it out."

"I think we'll let the surgeon handle that."

He huffed. "Just give me a knife and some tweezers."

"As if. Magic Man has the medical supplies, so this is going to be a bit of temporary battlefield medicine I'm practicing here."

"Nothing I haven't been through before."

She knew the big man had done two tours in Afghanistan. "Well, it's not necessary for now." She grabbed her kit and dug inside for gauze and tape. She wrapped the wound, then patted his shoulder. "Stay put for a sec."

The gunfire had stopped, but no one had found the kid in the building. Or any other hostages. Or a hostage taker. And why had the bullets come from outside the warehouse? All those thoughts raced through her mind while she transferred her attention to Greene. "You gotta work on your bullet-dodging skills," she said.

"Yep." Otis, resting in the down position at Greene's side, looked up, then licked the man's hand. Greene scratched the dog's ears. "I'm all right, old man." But his clenched jaw and narrow-eyed gaze told her the pain he was in. He met Kenzie's gaze. "Really. I'm good. Like I said, it got my vest. Took my breath away and stings a bit, but I'm not hit otherwise."

Thank God. "Otis?" She ran her hands over the dog's torso that was also covered in a bulletproof vest. "How are you, boy?"

"I checked him. He's good too." Greene's voice was an octave lower and, for a moment, unfiltered gratitude shone at her.

"Okay." She gave the dog an ear scratch and a light pat. He rewarded her with a swipe of his tongue up her cheek. "Then you two hang tight."

"Yep."

With the triage finished and no one in immediate danger of bleeding out, she scurried over to Cole. "Greene will be good. He'll have a bruise where the bullet got him in the vest. Buzz is going to need surgery, but it's nothing life-threatening. Otis is uninjured."

"Good. Stay with them until we find the kid ... and whoever else might be in here, but keep your eyes peeled and your weapon handy."

"Got it."

He moved toward Butler and Cross. "Come on out, kid. You're not in trouble. We're here to help."

Kenzie strained to see while James used a Maglite to light the way, sweeping the beam left, then right. James' hand rested on Cole's left shoulder and Butler's hand would be on James'. Silent communication. A tap, a squeeze, or pulling a team member out of danger. All possible with that hand.

Movement just beyond a stack of wooden pallets captured her attention. The guys saw it too. "Come on out!" James' order cut through the silence. "Hold your hands up so we can see them!"

A young boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, stepped from behind the crate, hands up. "P-please, don't shoot me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I-I'm sorry. He told me to do it. He said it was a training exercise. I didn't think it was real. He paid me and said you knew about it."

The kid babbled while Kenzie listened and exchanged frowns with Greene and Buzz. The kid's words registered. Someone had paid him to toss a hand grenade at the team?

COLE STOOD TO THE SIDE while James patted the kid down. All he found was a hundred-dollar bill, corroborating the payment story. Thankfully, no more grenades. "What's your name, son?" Cole asked, taking the money from James.

"Micah Martin."

"Anyone else in here?"

"N-no, it's just me."

James walked away speaking into his radio, reporting the situation, while Cole nodded to Butler. "Make sure? And find out what's going on with our shooter across the street."

"On it."

"Come on over here. Let's sit for a minute and have a chat."

He led the boy to a pile of stacked crates and motioned for him to sit. Micah did and Cole squatted in front of him, registering the sound of chopper blades beating the air above the building. Kenzie was still off to the side with Buzz and Greene. "Okay, Micah, I need you to be honest with me no matter how scared you are, okay?"

Micah nodded and bit his lip. "I always tell the truth." He rubbed his nose and looked down for a second before he sighed. "Well, maybe not always, but I will with this, I promise."

"Thank you for that. How old are you?"

"Twelve. I'll be thirteen next week."

"Where's your mom?"

"At home, I guess."

So, not being held hostage. "Dad? Brothers and sisters?"

"I have two brothers and two sisters and two cousins who live with us because my aunt and uncle died in a car wreck. I'm in the middle of them all. Don't have a dad. He left when I was nine because he didn't want to be ‘saddled'"—Micah wiggled his fingers around the word that he'd probably overheard—"with two more kids."

And he was the middle kid of seven children living in the home? "Money tight?"

Micah swallowed and slid his gaze away from Cole's once more but gave a subtle dip of his head.

"Understandable. You can look at me. It's okay. Nothing to be ashamed of." Micah met his eyes. "Tell me who paid you to throw a hand grenade out the window."

Before Micah could answer, James and Butler returned. "It's clear," Butler said. "No one else in here but the rats and roaches."

"Okay. As soon as you get the all clear, get Magic Man in here with the medical supplies. Kenzie can help if he needs it."

"Copy that."

They went to pass on his instructions and he turned back to Micah. "Sorry about that. Go ahead."

"This cop came up to me and asked me if I wanted to earn some money."

"A cop ?"

"Uh-huh. He was dressed like you."

Cole blinked. "In SWAT gear?"

"Yeah, but ... different. He had his face covered. I could only see his eyes."

Some SWAT officers used gaiter-like face coverings as part of their uniform.

"What color were his eyes?"

"Blue, I think." He frowned. "Maybe."

"How tall?"

Micah studied him. "Can you stand up?"

"Sure." Cole did so. Micah stood next to him and looked up. "Not as tall as you. Maybe like to your nose."

He was six feet two inches, so the guy Micah was describing was less than six feet tall. Five ten or five eleven. "Good, good. That's helpful. Keep going. How did you meet him?" Cole sat down again and motioned for Micah to do the same.

"I live in the trailer park up the road. We have a basketball court. Sort of. Anyway, I was playing with some friends. They left and I stayed behind to shoot some more hoops even though the ball is almost flat. I wanna play on the high school team and I only got two years to practice. Just as I was about to leave, this dude dressed like you walks up to me and says y'all are doing a training thing today and he needs me to throw a fake grenade out the window." He shrugged a bony shoulder. "Then he slipped me a hundred, brought me here, told me to be real careful because it was like a flash bang and could hurt my eyes and ears if I didn't pull and throw. He said there was just smoke in there, I swear."

"That's what he said. ‘Pull and throw'?"

"Yeah. He made me repeat it after him like ten times and practice on a pretend one. He said the team would be coming toward the building, and as soon as they got close, I was supposed to throw it. So I did. I pulled and threw just like we practiced." He swallowed. "But the one I threw, that was a real one, wasn't it?"

"It was."

A shudder rippled through his slender frame. "I didn't know. I swear."

"I believe you," Cole said. And he did. There was nothing but truth in the boy's eyes and words. He'd been a pawn in a dangerous man's game.

Micah frowned. "Why would he do that? I'm just a kid. I shouldn't be handling stuff like that."

No kidding. "That guy wasn't a real cop, Micah," Cole said. At least he prayed he wasn't. "No real law enforcement officer would ever ask you to do something like that."

The boy's green eyes with lashes all women would envy widened. "Then who was he?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

"Garrison?" James' voice came through the comms.

"Yeah?"

"Micah's mother is here."

He held a hand out to Micah, who took it and let Cole pull him to his feet. "Your mom's here."

Micah flinched. "She's going to be so mad at me."

"Maybe not. We'll talk to her."

The boy shifted and bit his lip once more.

"What is it?"

"The money. Do I get it back?" Tears formed in his eyes, but he straightened his shoulders and swallowed hard. "Mom needs that money."

Cole sighed. "I have to keep it for right now. It's evidence. But I'll make sure you get it back as soon as the lab is done with it, okay?"

"When will that be?"

"I don't know. Probably a few weeks."

"Oh." His shoulders drooped.

"You have something to spend it on before then?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "They're going to turn the power off tomorrow if Mom doesn't pay the bill. That would have paid the power and bought some groceries too."

Two things no twelve-year-old should be worried about. He patted the kid's shoulder. "We'll see what we can do to make sure the power stays on. Anything else?"

"Um. I don't know if it's important, but something fell out of his pocket when he pulled out the money." He dug into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small label. "I only picked it up because I wanted something to remember the day by. I thought it was going to be a cool one, something to brag about to my friends. Now I don't want it."

Cole's radio went off with the code for the all clear. He took the tiny piece of paper by the edge with forefinger and thumb. No way to get a print off that, but ... "King, you got an evidence bag?"

"Heard the all clear so I'll get one out of the car."

She left and returned in seconds. He slipped the piece of paper into the bag, sealed it, and labeled it. Then took a good look at it. "It's a label from a piece of fruit."

"Guess that's stupid, huh?" Micah asked.

"No way. This might actually be super helpful. Good job." The boy's eyes lit up and he offered Cole a small smile. "You ready to get out of here?" Cole asked him.

"Yeah."

Cole led the way out with the others following him. As soon as they reached the barrier of the crime scene tape, a woman who looked to be in her midforties gasped. "Micah!"

"Mom!" Micah ran toward his mother. As Cole got closer, he could see Micah was a miniature version of her with his dark hair and green eyes. She wrapped him in a tight hug while tears slipped down her pale cheeks.

She met Cole's gaze. "Will there be charges?" she whispered.

"I can't say for sure, but we'll talk to the DA and explain everything. Micah didn't realize what was going on. There was no malicious action on his end."

She swiped away her tears, sucked in a breath, and nodded her thanks. "Can I take him home?"

"Sure."

Once they were gone in her beat-up minivan, Cole returned to the warehouse to find Magic Man working on Buzz. "He's okay?"

"Will be. Paramedics are headed this way."

No sooner had he spoken the words than the door opened and the medics rushed in pushing a stretcher.

Cole walked to the door, aware of the action going on behind him but his gaze sweeping the area. Someone was out there who'd deliberately planned an ambush and tried to take out his team.

Someone who used a twelve-year-old kid.

Someone who was probably fuming that his plan had failed.

And maybe someone who was already formulating a new one?