Chapter One

"The suspects finally answered the phone. Looks like we have a robbery gone sour. Maybe we can work with their demands."

The negotiator's voice, heard through Colin Foxe's headset, sounded relieved.

"Do you want us to hold?" Colin's team leader questioned.

After a considerable pause, the negotiator said, "Get your team in place, but wait for a go."

There was already an officer down inside; a cop who'd noticed something suspicious while driving by. She'd called it in, then gone inside. Shots had been fired. The situation escalated quickly after that, and now Colin's SWAT team was on the ground and on the move.

He could smell the wounded officer's blood through a bullet hole in the window. He could also sense the faint flutter of her heartbeat. She wasn't dead, but she didn't have much time. He couldn't see inside, since curtains had been pulled across the wide windows at the front of the office building, but he could sense a tangled mixture of physical markers and high emotions.

It was everybody on the team's job to stop this situation, but Colin took it very personally. He'd taken vows to protect and serve humanity that were far stronger and more binding than even his oath as a Los Angeles police officer.

He and his SWAT team were here to see that the hostages and injured cop were saved. It was a great team, well trained, well coordinated, well led; he was proud to be a part of it.

Dressed entirely in black, he moved in line with the rest of the team. Crouching low, they formed in a loose circle that was stealthily closing in on the one-story building. Their target was a small publishing company located in an office park on a quiet side street. There were at least four armed men inside, holding a dozen hostages.

The cloudy night covered the team's movements. They used nightscope goggles to focus on their objective—all but Colin, who'd perched his on the brim of his helmet. He could see in the dark.

Though he was outwardly calm, the excitement of the hunt burned through him. He was aware, the extra senses he reined in much of the time now fully focused. He could smell fear, and taste it as well. The threat of violence hung around the office building like a pall of smoke. And one touch of anger scratched across his senses like nails on slate.

He didn't think the fury was coming from one of the perps. It was one of the hostages, and she—yes, that was definitely a strong sense of femaleness—she was royally pissed off. In a hostage situation, it was better to be scared than angry. Scared people were more likely to keep their heads down and do as they were told, increasing their chances of survival. Colin didn't like this; it added risk to the situation. If this woman did something stupid…

Telepathy wasn't his strongest sense, and using it might distract him from the team effort. Besides, there were far too many people with heightened senses inside for him to affect one individual. Still, he risked sending one thought toward perps and hostages alike.

Calm down.

I am calm, came the immediate reply.

It took all his training to keep him from surging out of his crouch in surprise. She heard him! And answered! And the brief touch of her mind on his made him red-hot.

Shouts erupted from the building, followed by shots. And screams.

"Go!"

He was up and moving even as the command came.

He was the first one through the door, rushing in just in time to see the flying side kick that knocked away the gun of the man who would have shot him.

Copyright © 2005 by Susan Sizemore