“Copy.” Hart pressed the communications button on his chest. “Sienna three, what’s your status? Over.”
A few seconds passed before his third responded, sounding short of breath, “Sienna three in position, copy.”
“Roger that,” Hart answered. His team was ready. “Alpha Ten to command.”
“Come in, Alpha Ten.”
“We are in position; do I have command?” Hart asked. The police negotiator stayed in charge of the scene until he officially turned it over to SWAT. There could only ever be one commander on site.
“Ten four, Alpha Ten. Negotiator released at three-oh-five. SWAT has command. You are green for entry, Alpha Ten. Over.”
“Copy that.” Hart released the mic button. He turned to his right, Fox ready for his order. “We’re good.”
Another shot was aimed in their direction. His team was completely protected by their vehicle but once they moved beyond it, the threat was real.
“STAY BACK. GET OUT OF HERE! JUST GO AND I WON’T SHOOT ALL OF YOU!” a gunman yelled from the shattered window. It was so grimy Hart couldn’t get a good look at the suspect before he had to duck back behind the truck. Regardless, they weren’t there to gather intel or to build a case. At threat level red, they didn’t have the luxury of continuing with negotiations or trying to get the suspect’s name and history to research. Hart’s years of experience told him that sometimes a barricaded suspect couldn’t be talked down. They knew there was only one option for them. Imprisonment.
Hart’s IT officer held out the tablet-like device with the layout of the abandoned home. “We have heat signature images from Sienna two’s scope. She confirmed no one else is inside except our two suspects. One suspect is shooting, the other is crouched down in the same room at the east wall. Unknown if he’s armed.”
“Alpha Twenty to Sienna two.” Fox held his mic.
“Sienna two.”
“Is the second suspect a hostage?” Fox asked, staring at the screen as well. The man was hardly moving and he wasn’t retaliating.
“Negative. Just refusing to come out. Copy.”
Hart nodded. He glanced to the upper level then down again. He had to make a swift decision. The gunman was still swearing and issuing threats, including killing himself. “Let’s give them one last warning.”
“Ten four,” his negotiator inside the APC responded. Damn, he loved his team. They all knew exactly who he was talking to and when to answer. They knew their positions, their duties, and they executed them flawlessly. He was proud to be a part of this squad.
“This is Atlanta PD SWAT! We have the area completely surrounded and all exits blocked. This is your final opportunity to come out slowly, one at a time, with your hands in the air!”
The gunman clearly heard the warning through their amplified speaker then fired off another shot as a fuck-you.
Every now and then, Hart would get a glimpse of the suspect’s face. He spoke and acted like he was on something, like he wasn’t in his right mind. Usually, when criminals saw their truck roll up as brashly as they’d done, it wasn’t long before they were surrendering with their hands to the sky. But, not this time. This time they’d put all their constant practice to good use.
“He may be going for suicide by cop,” Fox growled, tightening his helmet. He had his special ops assault rifle nestled against his chest as he narrowed his eyes. “What’s the word, Hart?”
“We’re gonna have to smoke ’em out. They’re not gonna let us get any closer. And I’m not taking the risk with him still firing. We don’t know how much ammunition he has, or if he’s got any other weapons. The lower windows are boarded up. We’ll have to fire the gas into the second-floor windows.” Hart instructed them.
The seven-person entry team got into their diamond formation with their three ballistic shield-bearers at the front. Hart was directly behind him, with Fox to his right. Two of his men stepped away from the protection of the vehicle, armed with their multi-launcher gas gun. It resembled a large tommy gun with a six-shot grenade revolver. The two men stood to the rear, ready to fire at Hart’s order. While he and Fox took aim to protect them.
“Alpha Ten to command. Deploying gas,” Hart informed the reporter, who documented their every action from the moment they arrived on the scene. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
His team moved forward, then the big shields slammed onto the ground. Hart could still see the suspect through the clear rectangle on the shield. The man yelled and fired two shots that pinged off their armor. Hart was getting angry. He held his fist up, silently telling his launchers to wait for his clear. As soon as the suspect left the window, Hart motioned them forward with his hand.