Dark City Blue: A Tom Bishop Rampage by Luke Preston Read Free Book Online

couple of cigarettes and passed one to Wilson. The pair of them got as comfortable as they could on the concrete.
    ‘What do we do?’ Leary asked.
    Wilson eyeballed him for a moment. ‘We wait.’
    Anxious. Eager. He couldn’t keep still.
    ‘Relax, kid,’ Bishop said with a smile that he meant to be reassuring. ‘It’ll work out.’
    ‘Call for Wilson or Bishop?’ a uniform yelled from a hidden position.
    Bishop called back and somebody threw him a radio. He held the receiver to his mouth. ‘Bishop here.’
    ‘Detective, are you on-site at the Oak Park Apartments?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I have a young lady on the line who claims to be inside.’
    Bishop flicked his cigarette and sat up. ‘Put her through.’
    The next thing he heard were the whispers of a scared teenage girl. ‘Are you a police officer?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes, I’m outside. My name is Bishop; what’s yours?’
    ‘Chloe,’ she whispered.
    ‘Chloe, can anyone hear you talking to me?’
    She took her time answering. ‘No. I mean, I don’t think so.’
    ‘If you hear somebody, I want you to drop the phone. Do you understand?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Bishop jammed the radio between his ear and shoulder, took out his notebook and pen. ‘Chloe, sweetheart, how many men are inside?
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘Are they all armed? Do they all have automatic weapons?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Do you know any of their names?’
    ‘I don’t …’
    She fell silent. Bishop held his breath. He murmured, ‘Chloe, are you there?’
    A breath. Then, ‘There’s lots of girls here, maybe fifteen or twenty. I don’t know them all.’
    ‘You’re doing good. Where are you right now?’
    ‘In the basement.’
    ‘Does anybody know where you are?’
    ‘I don’t want to be here anymore,’ she said.
    ‘I know you’re scared, sweetheart. You’re doing real good.’
    ‘I want to go, I want to go, I want to go …’ She was cracking, her voice breaking.
    ‘Chloe, listen to me. I’m going to get you out. I want you to say it with me: I’m going to get out.’
    ‘I’m going to get out,’ she said.
    Muffled thumps leaked from inside the apartment building. Every badge recognised the sound: gunfire.
    ‘Chloe?’
    For a moment, he thought she wasn’t there, that she had hung up. Then he heard her whisper, ‘I’ll be a good girl.’
    The thumps grew louder.
    ‘I’ll be a good girl. I’ll be a good girl.’
    ‘Chloe.’
    Bishop covered the phone, called to Leary: ‘How long to SOG?’
    ‘Five minutes.’
    Fuck.
    ‘I’ll be a good girl …’
    The thumps stopped. The line went dead.
    Bishop threw the radio aside and pointed to a uniform. ‘You!’ he yelled. ‘Shotgun.’ The uniform tossed it to him. Bishop racked it.
    ‘Don’t be stupid,’ Wilson said, but he was too late. Bishop was already off and running.
    For a moment, it appeared as if the shooters hadn’t seen him. Maybe they didn’t believe what they were seeing. When their minds caught up, they opened fire. Dirt and grass bounced up around Bishop’s feet. He aimed at the front door, squeezed the trigger and blasted a hole through the upper hinge.
    Racked.
    Blasted another hole through the lower hinge.
    Racked. A third blast took out the lock. Then he dived through what was left and into hell.
    *
    The first shooter stood at the end of the hall. Bishop put a shell in his chest. Shifted his aim to the second shooter, off to his right, in a doorway. The force of the shotgun blast sent him through the wooden door. Dropping to one knee, Bishop tossed the shotgun, pulled his pistol and squeezed off a round, putting a third scumbag to sleep with a shot that took out the back of his skull.
    His ears were still ringing from the gunfire so he didn’t hear the footsteps, but he felt the cricket bat slam into his back. The pain shot down his leg and up his neck at the same time. He fell to his knees. Dropped his weapon. His body was in shock. He needed a moment to push through the pain. The next