Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [123]
“I’m right here.”
Kyle walked through the kitchen doors, hands up.
They stood in the parking lot behind two SWAT vans looking at blueprints of the Sand Shack. Nick, Detective Dean Robertson, SWAT team leader Tom Blade, and several cops. Dean was in charge, and Dillon was on the radio.
“We have line of sight into all areas of the main dining hall. There’s only one window in the kitchen”—Dean placed his finger on the northern wall—“here.”
“My men have line of sight into the kitchen and my top marksman is holding at this position.” Blade pointed to an area on the map thirty yards away. “And another man here”—he pointed—“has sights on the back door. According to my men, Burns has Detective Kincaid and a minor child in the kitchen.”
“What about the bathroom windows?” Nick asked.
“They’re small split glass, no way an adult could fit through,” Blade said.
“We’ve secured the main doors. I want to send men into the main dining hall, but we can’t tell if he’s watching. If he stands here, by the kitchen doors, he’ll be able to see anyone who enters.”
“So we wait,” Dean said. “Let Dillon Kincaid try to negotiate a surrender. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“Sir,” Blade interrupted, “isn’t that a conflict? His sister’s in there.”
“Not for me,” Dillon said over the radio. “But we might not have the time. Burns is agitated. He feels trapped. He can and will do anything to get away. Remember, he has nothing to lose.”
“I agree,” Nick said.
“Do we have a line of sight on Kyle Burns?” Dillon asked.
Blade responded. “No, but he hasn’t left the building.”
“He’s in there,” Nick said, pointing to the kitchen. “My instincts tell me he’s right in the middle.”
“Carina said in her last conversation with me that Kyle was being helpful,” Dillon said, “but we need to be cautious.”
“I’ll go in,” Nick said.
“You’re out of your jurisdiction, Sheriff,” Blade countered. “My men have this covered.”
Dillon said, “Sheriff Thomas has experience with killers like Burns. Wire him and let him go in.”
Dean looked from Blade to Nick, nodded. “We’ll position men in the main dining hall if we’re able. Stay away from the kitchen window.”
Nick nodded. He pushed down his fear for Carina’s safety. This was part of the job. She was a fellow officer. His goal was to get the boy and Carina out alive.
Dillon said, “We’ll try talking first, urge him to put down his weapon and release the hostages. But our primary goal is to separate him from the hostages.”
“I understand,” Nick said as Blade fitted him with a Kevlar vest and wired him. If Brandon didn’t voluntarily surrender, their only choice would be to take him down.
“I’m patched through to your frequency,” Dillon said to Nick. “I’ll give you whatever help I can. But trust your instincts, Nick. They’re solid.”
“Ready?” Dean asked him.
“Ready.”
Brandon stared at Kyle.
“When I was talking to you on the phone, you were here. You were here with her.” He waved the gun loosely at Carina, then aimed it back in Josh’s general direction. He didn’t look comfortable with the gun. He may never have used one before. But even the worst shot could kill someone a foot away.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kyle said.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid!”
“Put down the gun, Brandon, please. Don’t do this.”
Brandon kept the gun on Josh. Carina had to find a way to distract him. Get him to release the kid. Brandon was standing close to the kitchen doors, his back against the counter. Josh was in front of him. Carina was also in front of him about four feet away, her butt up against the butcher-block-style work island. The stove was to her right, and Kyle was between the doors and the stove.
The work island was full of partially cut vegetables. A seven-inch-long knife rested on the edge, only a foot from Carina’s hand. Knife versus gun and hostage. Not fair odds, but it might be useful.
Brandon had put her gun high on the shelving unit inside the doors to his left, her right. Not easily accessible, as she’d have to stretch to reach it,