Page 77 of Shielding Aubree

The officer shook his head. "I'd like to say that my primary concern here would be to preserve our ability to prosecute the kidnapper," he looked around, "but I can see from a quick survey of the group that wouldn't be the answer for everyone here. Let's get those maps and start figuring out how we're going to get our officer back. Hoyt?"

One of the SWAT team looked up. "Sir?"

"How close do we need to get you to do your thing?"

"My rifle, sir? Weather's good today. Eight hundred meters is a good bet."

"Good, then let's get Hoyt within eight hundred."

Aubree knewthat she was getting under his skin. His cold, calculated attitude from before were weakening. "You can ask me anything you want about the file, but you have to know that anything I say would be suspect."

"I'd think you'd want to make me happy. Give yourself a chance to survive."

"You just want the kill," she pressed on. "You want the numbers. I can see that you also want the FBI to know you're better than they give you credit for."

He smiled. "Maybe I ought to visit Special Agent Aparicio personally. She's gotten the closest so far."

She nodded. "And you're asking me for her information. Information that I might not want to give you. As much as you want to inspire fear and make the most out of your... skills. So do I." She tilted her head one way and then the other, shrugging her shoulders while she worked at the tape around her wrists. "What would it be like for me to do my duty while I was captured and threatened? When they find out that I found a way to keep pertinent information from you? What a name I'd make for myself."

He sneered at her, a muscle tensing in his jaw.

"You could have a name for yourself, Officer Cueva, but you'd be dead." He nodded. "What do you have to say to that?"

"These days you'd go down before you end up in court to tell your story. Suicide by cop. It's not like you'd get a chance to go to trial. You're not going to get the kind of coverage that Ted Bundy got. Back then a serial killer was something special."

"And now?" He lifted his chin and looked down at her. "I'd still make the news. They wouldn't want to kill me before the trial. People like a good trial. The prosecutors want to make a name for themselves as well. They'll want to get me on the stand, and I'd want to tell the story.

"No death penalty here in New Mexico but it would still make the news everywhere. People will want to know about me."

"Dime a dozen these days," she lifted her chin at him, mimicking his own gesture. "You'll be lucky to make a true crime podcast after a few months. If you want to be special. You'd have to-"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up!"

He rushed her and grabbed her throat, slamming her down to the ground with a speed she regretted.

She'd pushed, wanting to distract him.

She just hadn't expected him to react this fast.

If she lived long enough, she'd have to learn more about her interrogation skills.

"Don't you fucking smile!"

He lifted her up by her throat and slammed her back down to the ground. The dirt was hard packed with rock likely a few inches beneath.

"DO NOT PUSH ME!"

Her head ached at the heavy contact with the ground and the pain made the edges of her vision sparkle and flare.

Stars.

They looked like stars.

Aubree heard a chirp of sound and her lips pressed together.

The sound was... familiar in a way.

How?

---