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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1929015-The-Rescue
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by Jordi Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1929015
hostage situation, police rescue
         He was awakened by a loud banging on the front door. Shaking his head to clear it from the fogginess of sleep, Dylan glared at the clock. 1.30am. Hell, he’d only just gotten in bed after a two day stakeout. He closed his eyes and swore as the banging sounded again. Loud, insistent and not going away.
         Throwing back the bedcovers, he pulled on his jeans and padded out of the room and along the hallway. Before checking to see who had the gall to come banging on his door, he unlocked the wall cupboard and removed his service revolver and bullet clip. With minimal noise, he slid the clip into the gun and loaded a bullet into the chamber.
         A look through the peep hole revealed nothing yet the banging continued. Keeping the gun hidden, Dylan unlocked the door and opened it slightly.
         “Toby! What the hell are you doing here?” He yanked the door open and dragged the small boy standing before him. His face was dirty, clear tracks marked a trail down his cheeks where tears had fallen unchecked. “What’s wrong, Toby?” he asked, his voice softening.
         “Dad turned up at the house. He was yelling and shouting at Mom. She told me to get out and come here.” The boy’s chin trembled as he looked up at Dylan. “I’m scared, Dylan. I didn’t know what to do.”
         “You did right. Let me get dressed and we’ll go and check on your Mom.” He gave the boy a reassuring squeeze before returning to his room and pulling some clothes on. He kept his mind focused on the present rather than thinking of Lisa alone with her violent ex-husband.
         Returning to the hallway, he found Toby leaning against the wall. His face was still pale and his trembling had eased since entering the apartment. “You okay?” Dylan asked as he gathered up his weapon and checked the safety was on before tucking it into the waistband of his jeans.
         Toby nodded. “I just want my mom safe,” he replied.
         Dylan said nothing, opening the door instead and ushering them both out into the chilly night air. He wanted the same thing as Toby although his reasons went far deeper than Toby’s. Toby’s bike lay on the grass verge next to his Mustang. Settling the boy into the car, he turned the key and the powerful engine roared to life, growling as they drove down the street.

         Toby’s street was silent as they turned off the main highway. Dylan eased the car to a halt at the opposite end and killed the engine. All but one of the houses were in darkness with not a sign of life anywhere.
         “I want you to stay here,” Dylan began as he rummaged in the glove box. He retrieved a small cell phone and switched it on. “If you don’t hear from me in ten minutes I want you to call Detective Logan and tell him to bring the cavalry. Okay?”
         Toby nodded as he watched Dylan tap a number into the keypad and save it into the memory.
         “Press and hold button one to contact Logan. As soon as I have your mom I will call you but you must stay in the car.”
         “I will. Be careful, please, Dylan. My dad was in a real bad mood.”
         “I will.” He ruffled the boy’s hair before slipping out of the car and heading off towards the lit house.
         Lights blazed out from the lounge but he could see no occupants as he passed the window and skirted around the back of the house. The kitchen was in darkness but a light could be seen from the dining room. Hugging the wall, he made his way to the back door and tested the handle. The door was unlocked and he slipped silently inside. Pulling his gun from the waistband of his jeans, he moved through the kitchen, keeping below the height of the counters so as not to be seen from the dining room.
         He stood by the dining room door, listening as he wondered where Lisa was. The house was quiet, almost empty, yet instinct told him that Lisa and her ex-husband were still somewhere in the property. He did not have to wonder at their whereabouts for long. A slap, a cry, the crash of furniture echoed through the silent house with crystal clear sound telling him of their whereabouts.
         “Where’s the boy? Where is he?” The voice was angry, irate, bordering on loss of control.
         “I don’t know.” Lisa’s voice was shaky in response. Dylan could hear her fear and also her determination not to let her attacker get the better of her.
         “Liar.” Another slap cracked through the room. Dylan had to bite his lip to prevent himself from rushing in and risking her life. “You know where he is. I want my boy, now!”
         “Well, you’ll just have to want because I don’t know where he is!”
         “You think you’re so clever, don’t you. Well, you’re wrong. I found you, didn’t I. Found you so easy and I will find him. You both are mine and you are never leaving me again!”
         “You do not own me or Toby. We are free of you and your bullying ways and I will never return to you or let you near Toby. You can go to hell, Bobby.”
         “Bitch!” The slap was harder this time, sending Lisa crashing to the floor.
         Dylan tensed, listening as he heard furniture falling over, Lisa gasping from the impact of the blow and Bobby sounding off about what he was going to do to Lisa once he found Toby. His nerves felt stretched to breaking point but he forced himself to remain calm. Lisa’s life depended on him keeping his cool and he would not let her down. As Bobby paused to take a breath he made his move and burst into the dining room.
         “Police! Hold it right there, Bobby!” He pointed the gun directly at Bobby, his finger poised over the trigger should the other man try anything.
         Bobby paused for a second, his eyes widening in amazement when he saw Dylan standing before him. Shaking his head, he grabbed Lisa and hauled her close to him whilst he pulled out a large handgun and pointing it at Dylan.
         “Back off, lover boy. You move one step closer and you’ll gain an extra hole in your head.” He waved the gun threateningly at Dylan.
         “You don’t have to do this, Bobby. You can leave here free and in one piece if you put the gun down and let Lisa go.” Dylan kept his attention focused on Bobby. He dared not look at Lisa and her battered and bloodied face. His own anger was bubbling just under the surface at Bobby’s treatment of her.
         “Yeah, you’re really going to let me go, cop. You’re going to either kill me or lock me away and throw the key away so that you can have my wife and son.” He smiled, a cold, ruthless smile as he pulled Lisa even closer. “You’re going to have to kill me because there is no way whilst I’m living that you are having my wife again!”
         “Don’t be a fool, Bobby. Do you want to risk Lisa’s wife this way? I’m sure you don’t want her dead.”
         “If she’s dead then you won’t have her either. Two ways to lose her, cop. I don’t care, because if I can’t have her, you certainly aren’t having her.”
         Without warning he flung Lisa to the floor before shooting his gun towards Dylan. Dylan, distracted by Lisa falling had only a split second to react to the shooting. Snapping a couple of shots off towards Bobby he flung himself to one side, cursing as he felt something sting his shoulder as he moved.
         Lisa’s screamed echoed in his ears as he hit the door frame, his gun still trained towards Bobby. He could feel the adrenaline surging around his body as he watched Bobby stagger backwards, a look of surprise on his florid face.
         “You shot me,” he murmured, all bluster gone, as he slid down the wall. A red smear along the wall followed his descent to the floor. “You actually shot me. Damn.” A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth, running down to drip down on to his shirt. He looked down at the spreading stain across his grubby t-shirt. “Damn,” he muttered again before coughing on the blood filling his lungs.
         Dylan made his way over to the fallen man. He could hear Lisa crying to the side of him but refused to look at her until he had secured the gun away from Bobby. Keeping his own weapon trained on him, he kicked the handgun away before looking across at her. He wanted to shoot Bobby again when he saw her swollen eye, the bruise across her cheekbone and puffed up lips from where his fist had repeatedly caught her.
         “Dylan!” she sobbed as she rushed into his arms. Her tears splashed on to his shirt, adding to the wetness he could feel spreading across from his shoulder. “Oh, my God, you’ve been shot!”
         Her words seemed to break down the mental barrier that had been suppressing the reality of the fact that he had been shot. Now, waves of pain radiating from his shoulder washed over him. Shock, combined with blood loss, made his limbs turn to jelly and he found himself with a strong desire to sit down.
         “Mom! Mom!”
         Both turned to watch as Toby raced into the room, closely followed by Detective Logan and several armed officers. Lisa grabbed Toby to her to shield him from his father whilst Dylan raised a questioning brow towards Toby.
         “I couldn’t stand waiting so I rang Detective Logan. Sorry,” he replied, nibbling on his bottom lip.
         “I’m glad you did,” Dylan said with a smile before sinking down on to a chair as his strength deserted him.
         “So am I. I don’t like getting new partners.” Logan grinned at his friend as he checked over the wound. “Paramedics are on the way.”
         Dylan watched through a hazy cloud as officers retrieved Bobby’s gun, covered the body up and took statements from Lisa and Toby. Paramedics arrived and ushered him onto a stretcher where they started to treat his wound. As they wheeled him from the house he wanted to tell them to stop, to take him back to Lisa but he was too weak.
         “You should go to the hospital,” Logan said as he stood with Lisa. “Get those injuries checked out.”
         “I’m fine. They’re nothing serious,” Lisa replied, raising her hand to cover the bruising marring her face. “Besides, I can’t leave Toby.”
         “Toby can stay with me tonight.” He turned to Toby who had been watching everything with a wide eyed interest. “You know my son, Mikey, don’t you?”
         Toby nodded. “He’s in my class. It’s alright, Mom. You go to the hospital with Dylan. I’ll be fine with Detective Logan.”
         Lisa bit her lip, torn between staying with Toby and going with Dylan. She looked over at the ambulance and then at her son.
         “Go, Mom. Dylan needs you more than I do at the moment.” He grinned up at her. “He’s a great guy.”
         Reaching down, she pressed her lips lightly to her son’s forehead. “So are you,” she whispered. After exchanging a glance with Logan she went over to the ambulance and climbed in. Their last view of her before the ambulance doors closed was of the attendant looking at her injuries and Dylan reaching out to grasp her hand.
         “Looks like you might need a suit, Toby,” Logan commented with a grin as the ambulance drove off into the night.
         Toby grinned. He would tolerate wearing a suit if it got him a father like Dylan.


Word count 1991.
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