NOTES: All right, I haven't run this one by Debbie either. I
kind of figure I can hurt Carter by myself, but I
really need her to patch him up again. So, all
mistakes are mine.
It was easy to see the black-clad forms as they
approached, even though the SWAT team was hunched over
double. Once they reached the door to the carriage,
however, they sank below the level of the windows and
disappeared. Before they could all take position, the
gunman was already screaming.
"Hey, motherfuckers! I can see you and I know you can
see me!" the gunman shouted over Carter's head,
holding the baby so that it covered his face from the
SWAT team's view. "And I'm sure you can see my little
friend - what's his name?" he asked the mother. She
whispered something too softly for John to decipher.
"Chris, my little friend Chris," the gunman shook the
baby roughly, and it started to wail its displeasure.
"I know what you want to do here, but I swear to you,
I will kill this squalling thing, even if you shoot me
right here, right now, with my dying breath I will
blow its tiny brains all over this train." Carter
could hear Chris' mother try to choke down a sob at
the threat.
"All right, calm down," the team leader spoke through
the closed door, using a condescendingly placating
tone that made Carter wince. They did this for a
living, and that was the best the man could come up
with? "We just want to talk."
"Sure," laughed the shooter, clearly as unimpressed as
Carter. "Let's talk."
"You got a name?"
"Oh, polite talk. And here I thought we were in the
middle of a serious situation. Fine. How about...
Bob."
"All right. Bob. Why don't you put down your
weapon-"
"So you can blow my head off?" the gunman finished
with another ugly laugh. "I don't think so."
This didn't seem to surprise the SWAT team leader. He
continued on without pause, "Has anyone been injured?"
"Just your rat-bastard pal on the floor there. Didn't
catch his name."
This time there was a slight hesitation; then, "Is he
alive?"
"Yeah. He's even got his own personal doctor here."
Bob kneed Carter in the back. "Tell him."
Carter cleared his throat. "Williams is alive, for
now. But - "
The knee jab to the back was harder this time.
"That's enough information."
Carter started to turn his head around to face him.
"You said I could get medical supplies."
"Don't piss me off right now, Doc, I'm having a bad
day already."
If the resident hadn't been angry, the comment might
have struck him as mildly amusing. Bob thought he was
having a bad day? But Carter had other concerns at
the moment. "That man is going to die if he doesn't
get treated soon."
"And Chris here is going to die even sooner if you
don't shut up!"
Before Carter could argue further, which he wasn’t
sure he wanted to do, the SWAT man spoke again, "We
don't want anyone else to get hurt here. Just tell us
what you want."
"To be perfectly honest, I hadn't thought about it
yet. Why don't you and your friends go have a beer
and I'll get back to you when I've had some time to
think it over."
"Look, all we want - "
"I don't care what you want," Bob interrupted flatly.
"Back down now." There was the unmistakable sound of
a gun cocking.
"We can't do that."
"I mean it... Five.... four.... three.... " The
gunman was sing-songing his countdown.
"For God's sake, back off!" Chris' mother screamed
hysterically. "Back off!"
"Two..."
The SWAT teams started to withdraw as quickly and
quietly as they had approached. The gunman stopped
counting; Carter could hear the rustle of clothing as
the man's arm dropped to his side, and the resident
breathed a sigh of relief for the baby boy. Chris'
mother was sobbing behind him - huge, gulping sobs
that filled the entire carriage.
"No!" moaned a middle-aged businesswoman, seated next
to the exit Carter was facing. "You can't leave us
here!"
"Shut up!" yelled Bob, watching them depart.
He glanced around the carriage, as if evaluating it.
Outside it was dark already, and the lights in the
train had not been switched on. After a moment's
contemplation, he pushed Carter back towards the
wounded policeman, and handed the bawling baby to its
nearly incoherent mother.
Then he turned to his other hostages. "Okay, all of
you, up!" he ordered. They gazed back at him without
comprehension. "Get up! I want you sitting backs
against the windows. Shift your asses!" Slowly,
almost one by one, they stood and looked at each other
in bewilderment. "For fuck's sake, if you move any
slower, I'm going to shoot one of you." The men and
women scrambled to obey. They perched on the window
ledges uneasily, feet resting on the seats, backs flat
against the windows - effective shields against
snipers, but also against any light coming into the
train-car.
On the floor, Carter could barely see his own hands in
front of him. Williams was still unconscious, still
bleeding, and Carter couldn't see a damn thing. He
clenched his jaw in frustration, doing what he could
to staunch the blood-flow from the entrance wound.
"We need some light in here," he told the gunman.
"I don't think so."
Carter bit back his automatic reply, knowing that an
appeal to the man's concern for Williams would not
result in any favorable outcome. There had to be some
way of making it seem to be in the captor's best
interests. He was about to speak again when Bob held
up his hand, brow furrowing.
The gunman crept to the window, prodding one woman a
centimeter to the left as though she were a curtain.
"Fuck, they're coming again! They're trying to screw
me over!" shouted the gunman, voice trembling with
rage. "They don't think I'm serious? Well, I'll show
them! I will fucking show them!" He took one step in
the direction of Chris and his mother.
Carter stood up swiftly, knees protesting the movement
after kneeling for so long, and intercepted him.
"How're you planning on showing them?" Carter
demanded, desperately trying to stay between the
gunman and the mother and baby without actually
manhandling Bob. The shooter was getting more
volatile by the minute. "By shooting Chris? You
think that'll make the police decide to let you go?
You kill that baby and you are *never* getting off
this train. There is no way in hell the police would
let a baby-killer go. They can't."
There was a short silence before Bob sighed audibly.
"You've got a point. But I gotta show them they can't
fuck with me. It's too bad, Doc, I was starting to
kind of like you."
Carter barely had time to realize what the words
meant. Bob grabbed his elbow and yanked him towards
one side of the train. He removed one hostage from
her ledge perch, grasping her shoulder and throwing
her to the floor of the aisle. Then he hauled Carter
up to within inches of the window, placing his gun at
the doctor's ribcage. "Hey!" the gunman shouted, his
breath misting up the clear plastic. Just as the SWAT
team members looked up, he pulled the trigger.
Carter heard the sound of the bullet leaving the gun.
Then his chest exploded in pain. And then he was
falling.
Part 4