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He wasted no time.
Kitted out in his BDU’s, vest, and helmet, Cisco hunkered down behind the teams’ armored bearcat with his five-person unit, alongside Welker and his squad. The rest of the team was spread out around the block, but Mason had given B and H squads front row position within twenty feet of the main door.
The chief, along with Opal and Nolan, the team’s tech experts, were currently in the fortified command bus right next to them, orchestrating what they all hoped would be a brief showdown, but now looked like it would last well into the evening.
“So much for our plans,” Welker grumbled.
Cisco sighed. “You mean so much for my dinner.”
Welk snickered. “Of course, you’re thinking about your stomach instead of my?—”
“Uh, uh,” Cisco cut Welk off with a hiss. “Mixed company.”
“That’s okay, LT,” one of Welk’s unit members, Moira Bliss, a sheriff with the Penobscot County Department, spoke up with a snort. “We all know what Welker thinks about all the time, and what he gets up to on his off time.”
Cisco found it amusing that it was always Moira who gave Welker shit. He wondered if there was anything between the pair, but quickly dismissed it. Welker, like Cisco, didn’t fraternize within the ranks. Not that it was forbidden, but once a relationship went south, it was often times damned uncomfortable to work when two people on a close-knit team were attempting to ignore each other, post coitus.
Mason’s voice clipped out over their mics. “The perp is asking for a television interview. He wants someone from the press with a camera to meet him outside the building where he’ll be holding the bank manager as his hostage, at gunpoint. He has a message for somebody.”
“Any ID on who he is yet, and who he’s trying to rattle?” Mike’s question followed.
“So far, nothing. The man’s been keeping to the back of the bank, out of our line of vision, even from our snipers’ scopes. Once he steps outside, we’ll have facial rec. But from the sounds of him, he’s probably a local. He’s calling the bank manager by name.”
Shit. Cisco hated when the perp was someone teammates from Bangor might know. It made taking the bad guy down that much more personal.
Mason continued. “Who wants to play reporter?”
“I’ll do it.” Cisco offered immediately.
He was tired of waiting, and chances were, with him being from Orono, the hostage-taker would be unfamiliar with his face. “You have any civvies that will fit me?”
“On the bus,” Mason grunted. “Come suit up.”
And by suit up, Mason would try to get him to wear a vest under his plain-clothes, but it being summer, any bank robber with a brain in their head would see the bulk, so Cisco was going to decline. All he needed was a camera…and an excuse to get near the guy.
Ten minutes later, dressed in a white, short-sleeve button down shirt and chinos, Cisco hefted the professional news camera Mason had procured from the local TV station, onto his shoulder.
He was ready to roll.
“Your press badge is just about ready to print,” Opal told him with an amused look on her face as she stood by their copier, retrieved the item hot off the press, then ran it through the laminator.
Cisco didn’t have to wait long to see why she was snickering under her breath. When she handed him the tag, he read it. Peter Parkour.
“Funny.” He rolled his eyes while her partner in crime, Nolan, chuckled. Mason simply snorted, then picked up his phone and dialed the line he had into the bank. A few seconds later, the boss was all business.
“We have a reporter from WABI who’s just arrived. He’s agreed to video you, live,” Mase lied. “But you have to promise that he and the bank manager will both be safe.”
Yeah. Like the guy wouldn’t simply just agree to get his own way. But Mase clearly felt compelled to say something because the manager’s life hung in the balance, and yes, Cisco had eschewed any safety equipment.
“Right,” Mason continued, clearly having been given an affirmative answer. For what it was worth. “He’ll wait until you’re out of the building, then he’ll come toward you, slowly, where he’ll give you your interview.”
Mason must have heard what he wanted, because he hung up with a grunt, then addressed Cisco. “During the first few minutes of engagement, Units C and K will breach the back door to rescue the remaining hostages inside.”
“I’ll give them five,” Cisco agreed.
“That’ll work.” Mason gave Cisco the nod, and Cisco responded with grin and a thumbs up.
Piece of cake.