Note: “Officer down.”  That is a code or broadcast no one in law enforcement wants to hear. This excerpt begins when January, now in a car on her own although with the shift sergeant at this time, hears this and knows it is Gunn who has fallen. At that moment she realizes just how much she cares for him despite their differences in which they have  reached an uneasy truce…

“Oh God, no,” Jan gasped. Let him be all right. She had caught the pain in Thad’s voice as he called in the code for officer down. In her mind’s eye, she suddenly could see five pictures on the wall in the lobby of the police station. No, No! Please God, let him live. Oh Please. She glanced at Wilson, whose face had blanched. He had clamped his jaw until the muscles stood out. He knows!

“Five and Eleven, Ten-Ninety-Seven Tenth and Buchanan.” January dropped the microphone on the seat. She could see Six’s lights flashing a block ahead as they turned skidding onto Buchanan. She strained to catch any sign of Thad.

Wilson stopped the car, shifting his body to reach for the door. “Farrell, take your brick and get over against the buildings. I’ll take the shotgun and go up to Thad. Be careful, and remember we’re a team.”

January fumbled her handi-talkie onto her belt and slapped the headphone and lip mike over her head. She released the seat belt, reached for the door latch. Wilson had cut off all the lights as they rolled up to Peter Six. As her eyes adjusted, January saw Thad lying on his side on the pavement, one hand stretched toward the microphone dangling out of the open door. She wanted to run to him. Every instinct shrieked, “go to him”.

“Don’t lose it Farrell. Move!” The sergeant’s voice cracked across her awareness like a whip.

January opened the door, shoved away from the car, and sprinted for the nearest recessed doorway. Stopping, she saw the black car’s rear end up on the sidewalk and the right front fender folded around a power pole. About six feet from her shelter, she noticed an upended city trash can close to the building, its contents scattered all over the sidewalk.

January moved up to the can and knelt behind it. From there, she had a pretty good view of both sides of the wrecked car. The next instant, she saw the flash at the left front door of the wreck and heard the sharp crack. That’s a hand gun. In answer, a shotgun boomed to her left.

“Farrell, I got him back out of the line of fire. Don’t shoot unless you’ve got a target.” That was Wilson on the radio.

“Ten Four, Sarge.” January held her pistol in both hands, barrel raised, while she scanned the black car. With a fragment of her attention, she heard the sergeant call for an ambulance and EMTs, then instructing other cars converging on the scene.

How bad is he? Oh God, let him live. I love that big hardheaded lug. It took something like this to make me see. Oh damn, will I ever get to tell him? She felt a tear roll down her cheek. Damn it, I can’t cry now, not until this is over. January sniffed fiercely. She could hear other units reporting arrival, some to the north and some behind her. At the sergeant’s request she transmitted her exact location. Hope the people in the Ford didn’t have a scanner. This trash can isn’t much protection.

January saw movement on the right side of the car. Metal screeched as an unseen foot kicked the door open. Someone rolled out of the car and under the door.

“Watch it, someone came out the right side and moved to the front,” January transmitted. At that moment, she saw the flash and heard the report of a shotgun from the front of the car. The spotlight on the right side of Peter Six went out. There was an answering blast from January’s left, a shotgun and then a pistol shot from down the block in front of her. January took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly. She did it again.

Suddenly she saw movement again. The person who had gone to the front of the car was now crawling towards the rear. January took another deep breath and let it out slowly as the figure rose stealthily, leaning across the trunk. Light reflected off a gun barrel.

January lined her sights on the figure. Without thinking, she squeezed the trigger. The second shot was gone before she realized it. The shotgun slid over the trunk and clattered to the pavement as the figure fell back onto the sidewalk.

“Eleven got one.” January kept her pistol aimed at the body on the sidewalk. She knew the ambulance and Emergency Medical truck had arrived, but she didn’t take her eyes off the body on the sidewalk. Don’t move. I don’t want to shoot you again.

“YOU IN THE CAR, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP. YOU’RE SURROUNDED AND HAVEN’T A CHANCE.”

January jumped at the sound of the bull horn. She waited, thinking she saw some movement in the car, but she wasn’t sure. Another moment and then, “Okay, I’m coming out.” It was a male voice. The left rear door opened and January saw two hands and then a foot. She swung her pistol to cover the new menace. A man got out, stood, his arms raised above his head.

Sergeant Wilson ordered the man to move forward, then to lie face-down on the pavement. He asked the prone man if there was anyone else in the car.

“No, you bastards killed her.”

Jan sucked in a deep breath. Her? Is she really dead or badly hurt? Will they take her in the same ambulance as Thad? They’d better not. Anger rose in her. She knew it was unreasonable, but so was Thad Gunn getting shot. She hoped again that she would be able to tell him she loved him. The thought was new and strange, yet it felt very right.

“Farrell, we’re coming south along the sidewalk.” January recognized Perez’s voice.

“Ten-Four Perez. Are you on the east side?”

“Yeah, I’m on the sidewalk and Rogers is out in the street.”

That’s a dumb place to be. Thad will raise hell about that. No, he won’t, he probably won’t ever know about it.

“Ten-Four, watch the one on the sidewalk next to the car.”

January could see Perez now, close to the store fronts, moving cautiously. Then Rogers appeared at the left front, shining his flashlight into the interior of the Ford. Perez had his flashlight on the figure lying on the sidewalk. He knelt and put his hand on the figure’s neck. He stood up. “Five, its Code Four here with a Nine Oh One.”

I did kill her. January stood, backed a couple of steps, and leaned against the building. Her pistol was still in her hand, a round in the chamber and hammer back. She raised the muzzle, pointing it towards the sky while she let the hammer down slowly. She holstered the pistol.

Perez walked up, reaching to take her by the arm. “Come on, Jan, let’s see how the Spook is doing.” Good Lord, does everybody know about us? Jan let Perez lead her toward the ambulance, but before they reached it, the vehicle roared away, lights flashing. Sergeant Wilson watched it go before he turned and saw January and Perez. He laid the shotgun on the trunk of Peter Six, and walked to January.

“He’s going to be all right, Jan. He’s lost some blood but the EMTs started a plasma IV. It was a pistol round, instead of the shotgun. Thank God.” Sergeant Wilson put his arm across January’s shoulder. “You did fine, kid. Thad’ll be proud of you. Just like that first night, you handled yourself like a professional. You’re a good officer and I’m proud to have you on my shift. We’re a good team, and you pull your weight.”

“Thanks Sarge. I try.” January felt tears running down both cheeks. She was relieved by the news, happy it wasn’t worse, but the still body on the sidewalk was going to haunt her.