"Superficial."
"Pinned down?"
"No. Out of the perimeter. One building west of here."
She asked, "The third perp?"
The officer sighed. "Hell, he made it to the first floor of this building here." Nodding toward the tenement they were hugging. "It's a barricade. He's got a hostage. Pregnant woman."
Sachs digested the flood of information as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, to ease the pain of the arthritis in her joints. Damn, that hurt. She noticed her companion's name on his chest. "The hostage-taker's
weapon, Wilkins?"
"Handgun. Unknown type."
"Where's our side?"
The young man pointed out two officers behind a wall at the back of the lot. "Then two more in front of the building, containing the H-T."
"Anybody call ESU?"
"I don't know. I lost my handy-talkie when we started taking fire."
"You in armor?"
"Negative. I was doing traffic stops. . . . What the hell're we going to do?"
She clicked her Motorola to a particular frequency and said, "Crime Scene Five Eight Eight Five to Supervisor."
A moment later: "This is Captain Seven Four. Go ahead."
"Ten-thirteen at a lot east of six-oh-five Delancey. Officer down. Need backup, EMS bus and ESU immediately. Two subjects, both armed. One with hostage; we'll need a negotiator."
"Roger, Five Eight Eight Five. Helicopter for observation?"
"Negative, Seven Four. One suspect has a high-powered rifle. And they're willing to target blues."
"We'll get backup there as soon as we can. But the Secret Service's closed up half of downtown 'cause the vice president's coming in from JFK. There'll be a delay. Handle the situation at your discretion. Out."
"Roger. Out."
Vice president, she thought. Just lost my vote.
Wilkins shook his head. "But we can't get a negotiator near the apartment. Not with the shooter still in the car."
"I'm working on that," Sachs replied.
She edged to the corner of the tenement again and glanced at the car, a cheap low-rider with its nose against a Dumpster, doors open, revealing a thin man holding a rifle.
I'm working on that. . . .
She shouted, "You in the car, you're surrounded. We're going to open fire if you don't drop your weapon. Do it now!"
He crouched and aimed in her direction. She ducked for cover. On her Motorola she called the two officers in the back of the lot. "Are there hostages in the car?"
"None."
"You're sure?"