The Standoff
They got the call late at night. The Booths had pulled themselves out of bed and geared up. They adjusted the straps on each other's body armour and set out.
“One hostage. Perp is armed, identified as Malachi Shea.” Shea. The name pinged in Ella's head but she couldn't place it. “Do we know who the hostage is?” She asked the cop, and he shook his head. “No.” Shea. Why couldn't…was it something she saw in the database? She looked at Seeley. Maybe he knew.
Inside the house, beyond the barricade perimeter established by the…wait. Her Agent autopilot switched off. She knew this house. The tree lines.
Ella's mind snapped fully awake and she looked to Seeley. If the hostage was who she thought, the only way he could have gotten in this house was if the man who lived here was on call at his job.
“Seeley…call the firehouse.” She said.
They arrived at the house, parking up in front as she mentioned the firehouse. His eyes snapped to the treelines. “Colt?” It was less of a question, more of a statement. He recognised it too.
He punched in the number on his phone where he'd left it in the centre console and held it up. “Ambulance 51. Go get your captain, I'll hold.” He switched his phone to speaker and set it down, checking his sidearm and spares. “He's gonna go crazy, you know that, don't you?”
“Ambulance 51, Captain Colt Whitley, what can I do you for?”
“Nate. Seeley. Someone figured out who she is.”
“Fuck. Tell me she's OK. Please tell me she's OK?”
“We're here, but it's ongoing. I'll get back to you. You know I'll do everything I can.”
“Just… Keep her safe. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.” He hung up. Precious seconds were passing while he made that phone call, but he wouldn't leave his friends high and dry.
“Ready?”
Malachi Shea was pacing in the living room. “Shitshitshit….this was supposed to be easy. Easy. Kill the niece. Have official control….” He looked out the window. He knew if he touched the woman bound and gagged on the chair that he'd be dead in a heartbeat. He'd waited too long.
Katie looked out, saw the Booths readying themselves, and almost cried in relief.
“I want to negotiate! But only with a woman….” He screamed, and Katie flinched at the noise. Malachi was clearly unhinged. He wasn't making sense and that was dangerous.
Ella looked at her husband and smiled as a police officer came up. “Ma'am? He wants to negotiate but he won't talk unless it's a woman.” He looked to Seeley. “We only have men. Do you guys have a female negotiator? How long would it take?”
Ella's gaze turned towards the house. If they could get Malachi away from Katie, outside, that was what they needed. If they got Malachi outside, Ella could talk until their woman negotiator could be called in.
Seeley grabbed the radio and called in for a negotiator, this was already heading in the wrong direction, and it was going to take too long for a negotiator to arrive in time to keep her safe.
“Twenty-two seven oh five. Yeah, Whitley residence. No, we need a negotiator. No, female. Kidnapper wants a female negotiator. Well, hurry the fuck up then!”
He never swore. Something had him riled. Ella would know it was because it was his little sister in there. His friends.
“No. I know what you've got in mind. No.”
“Seeley…” Ella said softly, her eyes meeting his. “It's Katie in there. You know it. I know it.” She said softly. She swallowed. She knew he was going to be livid. He might even divorce her beautiful little ass but it was Katie in there. Katie, who didn't know how to defend herself.
“Malachi?” She yelled towards the house. “If you come outside, I'll talk with you, okay? Just….come out on the lawn.” She looked at Seeley, “It's safer if I can get him out here. Away from her. Please don't be mad…if it was us…you know they'd do the same.” She said quietly.
Minutes passed and Katie slumped when her uncle moved outside as Ella crossed the barricade onto the lawn. “I want immunity.” He stated flatly to Ella.
Seeley would have seen the way Ella's hand, at the side pointed towards him, moved to ready herself.
Malachi? How did she-FUCK! Now it rang bells. Big red flashing lights, loud alarm bells, everything bad you could ever think of. Radio.
“Twenty-two seven oh five. Booth. Set up an open line to the Captain at Ambulance 51. Yes, it's important. Tell him it's Seeley. Yes, Seeley. Patch him through to my radio, tell him to be quiet unless spoken to. Out.”
He crouched at the edge of the property, gun in hand, ready for anything.
That was his wife out there. Woe betide anyone who messed with her.
“I can't grant you immunity, that's not my job to offer. Someone is coming that you can talk to. She can help you more than I can, but Malachi, that's your niece in there.” Ella said softly.
“I know who she is!!!” Malachi growled, his hand shifting. A knife.
“Put the knife down, Shea…we're talking, right? I'm just talking to you until Agent Neill gets here.” Her radio crackled and she turned it down. Just enough for her to hear. Malachi was unhinged. “She just wants to live her life. Katie Donnelly is dead. That's…Kathleen McMichael in there. All of Niall's children are dead.” She said. Of course she knew the ins and outs of the names. She was Organized Crime, after all.
“I'm looking at one of his kids in there! Mangione said I can't have the territory back until all of the Sheas are wiped out!” Malachi screamed and the knife glinted in his hand. Mangione. Ella didn't show it, but her hand inched closer to her gun. Seeley knew his wife's skill. She was one of the few who could have a fully holstered gun lifted, aimed, and fired in a heartbeat. Less than a heartbeat.
She was waiting. She knew she didn't look anything like Gabriella Carmichael anymore. No ink. But she knew she looked close enough that it could trigger the man if he knew anything about who the Mangiones were allied with. “You.” Malachi snarled and then he was running at her, then leaping.
Seeley followed at a respectable distance, keeping an eye on the house and his wife. Ready if she needed him. His radio buzzed with static as central gave him a subtle signal that they had Nate on the line. He turned it down before answering in a whispered voice.
“Nate. Get your ass home now. I don't care what you use as an excuse, she will need you. Shea.”
That name. He would know from the phone call that had placed him into their circle of friends. From the favours he'd called in to 'kill' Katie Donnelly. It was a rough beginning to the friendship, but it had grown from there.
“NO!”
“Yes. Malachi.” He kept creeping forward, trying to keep an eye on Ella, trying to keep an eye on the house, trying to track Malachi.
“I'll be there, gimme… Shit… 20 minutes. 15 if I don't get stopped.”
“Good, I'll le-” Malachi lunged. His hand was on the radio, not his gun, and he was too far away to make a clean shot without taking the time to aim. Everything slowed down.
Malachi. Knife. Running for Ella. NO!
Hand. Gun. Raise. Aim. Aim. Aim. Aim. Too long…
Ella watched as the man lunged at her and her fingers shifted. Unholster. Grip. Pull. Her gun came up. She could hear Seeley in the background, yelling something. “NO!”
But it was drawn out, her eye trained on the would-be attacker. Right finger shifted and….just a light caress… The criminal fell, blood pouring from his chest. Shit! He had to stand trial, get justice for what he'd done! She knelt, fell to her knees, rather, trying to hold pressure to the wound. Shhh. No. Hush.
“Five six eight four two. Booth, D…I need a medic stat, Whitley residence, possible fatality. Hostage inside, I'm going to need a counselor…” At least she was showing she could keep composure. But Seeley saw it in her eyes. She had gone numb to keep the static away.
“Che cazzo. Breathe, you figlio di troia…” She swore. Malachi gurgled a bloody laugh. “No one's…taking…me…aliiii…”
He was silent and Ella pressed bloody fingers to his neck. Mafankulo… “Five six eight four two. Booth, D. Fatality, Whitley residence. Malachi Shea.”
She looked at the body. Swallowed.
“Seeley?” She called quietly as she stared at her bloodied hands. Forearms. Her clothing.
First things first, he flicked his 1911 to safe click and tucked it into his holster click. Everything seemed so visceral, he could hear everything.
He stood up and ran thump towards thump his thump wife crunch with crunch bounding crunch steps. Across the lawn, then the gravel of the drive. His right arm was out in a motion of 'hold' behind him as he ran. He needed to be there to help her.
The first was always a bitch.
He was sliding on the grass, at her side as she called his name. He couldn't help it, his arms went around her shoulders. Blood and grass would come out. The feeling of killing a man? That would haunt her forever.
“I've got you. I'm here, Ella. I've got you.”
He would know. He remember the face of every single kill he'd made.
Next: Shea-ds of Grey
127.0.0.1