Not to the Swift

Chapter 7

Kazsinski spun the wheel. "That's us, man. We're almost on top of it."

"Multiple shots fired," the radio squawked. "Possible injuries on scene. Any available officers, please respond."

Mason grabbed the transceiver and keyed the mic. "Cruiser One-Seven is on it." Oh God, oh God, this is really happening. Shots fired.

The lights danced on buildings and reflective surfaces as the cruiser tore through the streets, siren blasting. The police car caught air on a downhill. Eyes wide and intense, Kaz let out a "Whoo!"

Mason checked over his equipment. Body cam secured. No helmets, can't help that. Weapon loaded, safety off. The double-action trigger wouldn't misfire even if dropped. He reached in his door panel and donned his ballistic glasses. These aren't stopping a bullet, but every little bit helps, right?

In the distance, Mason heard soft popping sounds like firecrackers going off in clusters of two to four. Kazsinski barely slowed as the cruiser sped through the school zone of Pulaski High. It's after four. All the kids should be long gone. I hope.

Kazsinski slammed on the brakes near a black sedan blocking the alley. The driver's door hung ajar, its window shattered. A body lay on the ground among the glass shards. Gunfire echoed around the corner.

Mason looked to Kazsinski for guidance, but Kaz burst out of the car as soon as he hit the emergency brake. He rushed to the wall of the nearest building then slid toward the alleyway, his Beretta held level, clutched to his chest.

A young man's voice resounded in Mason's ears. "This is Pinoy turf now. Run home an' tell the Kings." More gunshots punctuated the demand. Someone wailed for help out of sight.

Kaz thrust his pistol around corner as he leaned to get a view. "Police," he screamed. "Drop your weapons, hands above your head." He whirled back into cover. Brick chips and dust sprayed past Kazsinski's shoulder as bullets riddled the other side of the building.

Laughing voices swore in English and some other language, but Mason could make out "pigs" among the curses. He hunkered down and hustled over to where Kaz stood.

The vet swore. "That was close. Shoulda just let them shoot each other up a while and arrested whoever survived." He tapped his temple with his left hand. "File that plan away for another day."

Two more gunshots rang in the alley. Footsteps of tennis shoes on gravel sounded as the gang members sought new cover. Mason drew his weapon and checked the safety once more. "What's the plan?"

Kaz pointed the pistol toward the car. "I'll move behind there for another view while you cover me. We can't both be at the same position and overlap our fields of fire. Ready?"

Mason and Kaz traded places so Mason could lean out to fire down the alleyway. He took a deep breath to steady himself. It didn't do much good.

"Now!" Kaz dashed behind Mason, seeking cover behind the sedan. Mason stepped to the side and thrust his hands out, supporting his weapon and searching for a target.

Gravel sprayed and bullets whizzed past as the gang members fired at Kaz. Mason popped off two shots at one of the assailants before spinning back behind the corner. Kaz ducked behind the sedan's trunk.

"Looks like two left in the middle," Mason called. "Three or four at the other end of the alley. At least one wounded there too."

"Ain't worried about how many wounded," Kaz said. "Gonna make some more of them before this is over." He popped up, fired off two shots, and dropped back into cover. Someone in the alley screamed in pain.

More gunfire broke out at the other end of the alley. They're distracted, still trying to kill each other. Mason poked his weapon around the corner—scraping his body cam across the wall. He found a target and took a shot.

One of the big guys at the other end jerked with a hit to the shoulder. His weapon fell in the rocks, and he dove to retrieve it.

Someone in the middle loosed a burst of bullets that riddled the man Mason wounded. The body flopped into the gravel and twitched once before going still.

A twinge of guilt struck Mason. Did I just get someone killed? He shoved the thought down. The guy was clearly a threat looking to be neutralized.

Kaz fired a couple more rounds, alternating fire from the left and right sides of the car. Then another gunman sprung from the corner of the building across the alley from Mason. With a clear view of Kazsinski, he cracked off three shots with a pistol. Kaz spun and returned fire, striking the shooter in the chest and head. But he fell to the ground, blood soaking through the shoulder and side of his uniform.

"I'm hit!" He writhed on the ground and swore repeatedly. "Oh god, it burns."

Mason froze. He almost ran to Kaz, but more gunfire down the alley cut him off. "What do I do, man?"

"Get to the radio. Call for backup and an ambulance. Son of a—what are you doin' standin' there? Go, dammit!"

Training kicked in. Mason ran to the driver's side door and ducked inside, snagging his body camera on the doorframe as it swung open. He keyed the mic as he grabbed the transceiver. "HQ, officer down at Eighteenth and Madison. Officer is responsive but bleeding heavily. Situation still in progress with sporadic gunfire and multiple offenders. Send backup."

A woman's voice crackled through the mic. "Hold position, drag officer to safety if able, backup enroute. Ambulance support will be dispatched."

The body cam swung loose and rattled with Mason's every move. He ripped the thing off, left it in the car and called out to Kaz. "I'm coming to get you, man. Hang on. Ambulance on the way."

Kaz lay still, the gravel and dirt beneath him stained red.

Bullets struck the hood of the cruiser, and Mason dropped to the ground behind the open door. One of the gunmen tried to flee the alley but got pinned down behind a dumpster on the other side of the sedan. Concrete shattered as bullets sprayed the wall above the dumpster. The gunman whipped back and forth between keeping Mason in cover and shooting at his enemies down the alley. He fired again, creating a spider-web in the cruiser's windshield.

Mason held his gun at the ready and tried in vain to calm his racing heart.