Cut and Run 4 - Divide and Conquer

casualties.
    Divide & Conquer | 231

    Ty closed his eyes and lowered his head. He‟d promised himself
    and all of Baltimore that they would stop these monsters, but all he‟d
    done was get embroiled in it, making himself a target, making Zane a
    target, egging the bombers on, and seemingly making the attacks more
    personal and the attackers more bold.
    He couldn‟t shake the feeling that this was on his shoulders.
    The van careened to a stop, sending the agent next to him
    tumbling against his side. Neither one of them acknowledged it, instead
    hurrying to open the door and spill out to surround the entrance to the
    bank.
    Following the predetermined plan of action, they fanned out to
    cover the two entrances and check all vehicles present, and one of the
    assistant SAICs made the call inside to touch base with the manager
    before a team moved inside.
    The call wasn‟t answered. It was some kind of miracle, but the
    team had found the right bank.
    Ty knelt behind the wheel of a police cruiser, a city cop beside
    him, listening over his earpiece for instructions. There was a sudden
    burst of chatter, and Ty turned, pointing his gun with its scope over the
    hood of the car at the entrance to the bank. A skinny man in a
    cheesecloth hood exited the bank, a woman held hostage in front of
    him, a gun held to her head. The cops surrounding him shouted, but Ty
    was hearing the words in his ear instead.
    “Yellow, do you have a shot?”
    “Negative.”
    “Green?”
    “No line of sight.”
    “Red?”
    “Nothing clean.”
    “Blue?”
    Ty squeezed one eye closed, looking down the scope at the bank
    robber. Looking at the man‟s trigger finger in his scope. It was resting
    232 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

    on the trigger guard. He brought the scope up, checking line of sight to
    the target‟s head.
    “Affirmative,” he murmured in answer.
    “Take the shot.”
    Ty breathed out carefully, taking a moment to ask for forgiveness.
    Then he squeezed the trigger.
    The hooded man‟s body snapped backward as the bullet struck
    the shoulder of his gun arm. There was no danger of him squeezing off
    a shot with his finger on the guard, and they wanted him taken alive. A
    gruesome spray of blood painted the glass doors behind him, and the
    bullet impacted the glass, sending tendrils of splintered bulletproof
    glass outward. The man let out a high-pitched shriek as he bounced on
    the concrete. The hostage yanked free and ran, leaving the cops and
    agents with clear shots. If the hooded man raised that gun so much as a
    millimeter, Ty would take his head off.
    But the gun clattered to the ground as the man rolled around on
    his back, still howling and clutching at his shoulder.
    Ty raised his head and watched as agents and police officers
    surrounded the man. The cop beside Ty gave his shoulder a pat. “Nice
    shot, brother.”
    Ty nodded at him, standing to watch as the man was dragged
    toward the police line to be questioned and unmasked. A call was put in
    to the bank and was answered immediately. There was no one else in
    there, they were told. Only one bank robber had been there.
    Surely all this wasn‟t the work of one man? There had been
    reports of two to three in each robbery, and with the bomb spotter, they
    had the group pegged for up to four. Ty moved closer to the ambulance,
    his gun over his shoulder as people parted to let him through. The man
    was on a stretcher, crying out in pain, a scream so feminine that it
    sounded almost like a child. The mask was ripped off to reveal his face,
    and Ty stared in shock.
    It was a woman. No, a girl , a goddamn kid , eighteen if she was a
    day. And she wasn‟t taking the injury well, sobbing and red-faced,
    saying over and over that it hurt, calling for her mother.
    Divide & Conquer | 233

    “Get this,” a city cop said, stopping next to Ty. He had the girl‟s
    weapon in hand. “It‟s not even loaded.”
    “What the hell was she thinking?” the first cop said in disgusted
    wonder.
    Ty shook his head, speechless. Shooting a teenage girl through a
    sniper‟s scope had not been on his bucket list. His stomach curled,
    threatening to send his lunch back up.
    “It‟s a clean shot,” the EMT announced. “She‟ll be fine, but we
    need to get her moving.” They lifted the would-be bank robber up and
    headed for the ambulance, two cops alongside for the ride.
    “Hey,” the assistant SAIC said as he stopped at Ty‟s side. “It was
    a good shot. Saved her