No Choice

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Chapter 01 - Saturday - Officer Down

Gunshot.

Thorn crouched down slightly on the city sidewalk.

A scream – screaming voices.

Gunshot – small arms.

Really: it was not a PTSD flashback.

Thorn hears a woman screaming in pain, when not screaming, No!

He hears a child screaming, Mommy! over and over.

He hears an angry man screaming obscenities, many attached to the word, bitch.

All three voices echo off brick walls, coming out of the space between two apartment buildings a half block ahead of Thorn – and then so do the three people.

A man in his late thirties carries a struggling young girl in his arms as he cuts across the sidewalk and then out into the street, toward a black and yellow car parked there.

A young woman in a police uniform, blood running down her right arm, staggers out after them.

She makes it as far as a car on Thorn’s side of the street before she collapses onto it, sliding off the hood and down onto the sidewalk, hard, four or five steps in front of him.

The man in the street shouts, Ow! You bit me! You little – and starts to shake the girl in his grip. He screams, First you only want to stay with Mommy, now you bite the hand that feeds you!

Then more obscenities.

The woman – probably the mother – is a pale, pasty white, and groaning, using her left hand to press on the wound, high up on the right side of her dark blue uniform. Thorn can’t see clearly whether she is bleeding from her shoulder, arm, or chest. Her right arm is limp, jiggling slightly as the muscles twitch in pain and shock, blood dripping off her trauma numbed fingertips.

Thorn looks at her bloody hands, at the young woman’s terrified face, then at the man out in the street shaking the girl, who is starting to go limp.

Thorn reaches down and takes the service pistol out of the holster on the right side of the police woman’s waist.

As it clears, she claws feebly at his hand, then at his leg. Thorn looks down at her.

"I’m gonna kill you too!" screams the man out in the street.

The woman sees something in Thorn’s eyes and relaxes, just for a second. Don’t miss! she gasps, then groans in pain from that effort.

Thorn chambers a round, slides off the safety, steps out from between two cars, goes to one knee, aims the 9mm pistol at the man’s neck, and then yells, "You are an asshole!"

The man out in the street is so surprised to hear any comments from anyone that he straightens slightly, lowers the girl, and turns, angry enough to shoot whoever yelled that.

Thorn fires once and shoots the man through the neck.

The man out in the street drops the girl and his gun, and puts both of his hands up to his bleeding throat.

The girl, about nine or ten years old, crab-walks away a few paces. She is alert, and acting rather sensibly for someone so young, especially with all that is happening.

The man out in the street watches as Thorn stands up, makes sure no cars are barrelling down the street, and walks over to him, the pistol down at his side but ready.

The man drops to his knees as Thorn arrives, using one foot to nudge the gun the man dropped further away from the man – just in time, as he topples over, falling onto the asphalt.

His eyes are simply fearful now, although he does manage a snarl for Thorn.

Thorn looks over at the young girl and says, Please go help that policewoman. She’s hurt, but don’t be scared. I’ll be right there, and then we’ll both help her.

The girl looks at him, blinks, says, Okay! and actually checks for traffic before she runs back across the street.

Thorn looks down at the bleeding man, trying to make sure he doesn’t have any more guns hidden. Good kid, says Thorn. If that cop is her mother, I’d say she takes after that side of the family.

The man can’t speak, swallowing blood as he bleeds out into his lungs, getting ever weaker as he tries harder and harder to breathe. Thorn doesn’t try to help the man, just wanted to be sure he has no more guns handy to shoot Thorn in the back when he leaves.

When the medics get here, I’ll let them know you need help, Thorn tells the man. But somehow I don’t think you’ll be number one on that runway.

The man manages another half-snarl, but is dying fast now.

Thorn turns and trots back to the injured woman, who is bleeding and in pain herself, but also much improved by her daughter’s presence.

Both of them are in shock, however.

Thorn slowly put the police service pistol down on the ground near the cop’s right side, and then turned to check her wound. Slow it down. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.

Combat medic, he explained, deliberately slowing everything down inside his head now. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. I’ve seen a few of these. Let’s make sure you’re able to wait for the ambulance to get here, okay? Thorn smiled at her.

She was about his age, and an experienced police officer – she gave him a brave, worried half-smile, as she knew what Thorn really meant, but did not want to say out loud for her daughter to hear. What about B-Bobby? she asked, as he took her pulse.

She wasn’t gasping for breath, so there was no air leaking into her ribcage to cause a pneumothorax. The young police officer’s color was better, her skin was warm, and her pulse was eighty six and pretty strong, so she was generally stable at the moment, decided Thorn.

And also pretty tough, considering how much it hurt to get shot.

That was the next thing to look at.

She grunted and winced when she moved her right arm so Thorn could check the wound.

There were two wounds: the bullet had gone through her right upper arm, and then cut a shallow furrow across the side of her ribcage. There were no bubbles or visible bleeders along that one.

He’s in no position to hurt your daughter again, Thorn answered absently, as he carefully probed her wounds. Nothing torn by the bullet was spurting blood externally from either wound, at least. He could now hear at least one distant siren.

He shot Bobby, the girl said to her mother. Bobby was going to shoot me.

Thorn went numb – this was a nine or ten year old girl, talking matter-of-factly about something that should cause fear, he would think. She wasn’t tearful or frightened.

He’d seen this before, but only in war zones.

And Thorn had given her a reassuring nod – then forgotten all about her even being here in one now, because she had stayed quiet, and let him concentrate while she watched out for her wounded mother.

He sighed. This kid has had a tough life so far.

The girl shook her head. It wasn’t right that Bobby hurt you, Mommy. That was just mean. Really, really mean. She looked at Thorn and asked, Is my Mom going to be okay?

Whatever was going on in her family, the girl was bright, and for some reason she now trusted him completely.

The sirens – more than one now – were getting louder every second.

I think she has a very good chance of getting to a hospital where the doctors will be waiting to fix her all up, Thorn declared, with honest conviction. I really do. I’d even bet on it, and I only bet on sure things. My name is Thorn.

Trish Lydell, said the woman. My daughter, Terra. She was no longer gasping in pain, was able to talk, and her previously pale shocky skin color was pinker, although it would never quite hide her freckles.

"Two ‘r’s, like Terra Earth, said Terra Lydell. Hi, Thorn."

Sirens filled the air, then stopped.

Thorn heard car doors opening.

He put his open hands high up in the air and called out, Help! There’s an officer down over here!

Chapter 02 - Saturday - Just The Facts

Thorn tried not to flinch when he saw the guns pointing at them as the cops assigned to cover this part of the crime scene first made certain that no one over here had any guns in their hands to shoot the cops or anyone else.

That took them five seconds, then all of the cops went into full assistance mode – one of their own was down, as was the evident shooter, a man in plain sight, lying dead in the street, with a gun near his body.

Properly stabilizing Officer Trish Lydell for transport was painful enough for her that she was in no state to really say anything. In the commotion, the initial impression of the first responders on scene was that a wounded Officer Lydell had managed to shoot her assailant, and Thorn was simply a helpful citizen passing by.

They moved Thorn right off to the side for questioning later, and while some got to work on treating Officer Lydell, others set about securing the scene for processing. It did not take long for more to arrive. Although the press had not made an appearance yet, the clock was ticking.

Thorn saw two detectives or plainclothes cops talking to Terra Lydell, and she soon told them who had shot who here on this early Saturday afternoon.

It did not take long for one cop, then the other, to give Thorn an altogether harder sort of stare.

The woman – Special Agent Bernise Cruz, sir, she said, with an FBI folder I.D. to prove it – was the one who stopped by first, while the other one, the guy, handled Terra Lydell.

Just call me Thorn. He was slightly surprised it was an FBI agent who questioned him first.

Bernise Cruz was his age or very close, had straight black hair style-cut to collar length framing her face, beautiful, very dark blue-gray eyes, and was as reserved as she was pretty, even though she certainly wasn’t trying to be pretty. She had minimal make up, and possible dimples, although those were strictly speculative at the moment, and unlikely to be confirmed any time soon.

Cruz was brisk. Can you tell me what happened here, sir? she asked, in her best just the facts pitch and tone.

Thorn, the man who Terra Lydell said had just shot Robert Bobby McGuffin dead, was about her age, definitely worked out, and had a politeness combined with shooting skill that suggested a military background (any past or current police officer would have said that by now). Thorn was a potential suspect of sorts, so Cruz didn’t think of him as handsome (a lot like the actor playing Thor most recently, just not as moody looking), but she was aware he was definable that way – and that was how Bernise Cruz handled that, as she waited for his answer.

He isn’t the first good looking potential suspect you’ve ever questioned, Cruz, she thought. Let’s hear what says, see what he looks like when he talks, and see what the other evidence shows.

Thorn saw Terra Lydell waving to him as she passed them, riding inside a car being driven by the other cop/agent, following after the ambulance taking Officer Trish Lydell to the hospital.

Thorn waved back, then turned to Cruz and said: I was walking by when I heard two gunshots, then three voices shouting as they came out from between those two buildings over there. He pointed.

Cruz took a definite second to study him, thinking about whether he was trying to distract her gaze for some reason, then looked over at the two buildings for half a second or two. Then she was back to watching Thorn, and waiting.

"The young lady was being carried toward the yellow and black car – over there, across the street – by the gentleman now in the