Page 113 of Protected By West
"We're sending in a phone for communication."
The man inside had a gun on Tracy with his right hand and his left?
He reached it out and curled his fingers to call them forward, smiling as he did.
Weston found himself looking over at Tracy at times just to reassure himself that she didn't look injured.
He could see her blinking more than usual and swallowing hard enough that he worried she might hurt her throat, but from what he could see, she was being a total rock star.
Duval nodded and Dally swung his arm in an arc and the bag sailed through the air, clearing the wreck of the car and into the credit union.
The world outside the building was still bright, but the lights inside made it easier to see inside.
The man took a step toward the bag and stopped. He used his free hand to point at the bag.
It didn't take a trained lipreader or the parabolic microphone pointed at the interior of the credit union for him to know that he'd told Tracy to go and get the bag.
As she moved forward, he looked at the screen where they'd tapped into the security camera feed of the credit union.
He watched as Tracy moved toward the bag. On the ground, near where she'd been standing, Estes was slowly sitting up, wincing a little as she moved.
"Damn," he heard Fox mumbling under his breath, "their cameras are better than ninety percent of what I've seen out there."
Weston couldn't help but smile. "She got a great deal on the system and some of the other credit unions are signing on to the same company."
Fox touched a button on the phone system and the phone inside the credit union started to ring.
"Keep calm, baby."
Tracy almost dropped the bag when the phone started to ring but quickly righted the bag and fished it out.
The man lifted his chin, and she accepted the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Miss Fagan." Fox took a shallow breath before he continued to speak. "This is Ranger Kelly Miller. How is everything in there?"
Weston saw Fox look at the screen where they'd pulled up the information about the registered owner of the car. The man with the gun on Tracy didn't look like the man who owned the car.
The man who'd climbed free of what was left of the windshield looked more like the image. Well, without the blood streaming down his face and the busted lip that was going to hurt with or without morphine.
Weston saw a message on the screen.
JACK - sent in a request for known associates of the RO
With some luck the man with the gun had been arrested with the car owner before and they'd be able to know more about him.
"My staff is safe. In the main room is myself. A prospective member of the CU who was knocked out when the car came through the door. The man holding a gun on me." Weston saw her tilt her head a little as she looked toward the front doors. "And a man who is going to need medical assistance as well. I believe he was the front passenger of the-"
"Hey!" The gunman barked at her. "Chatty Cathy! You're not being paid by the word!"
She nodded and he could see a muscle in her cheek flex. "I was answering his question."
The gunman shook his head and something about the way his body moved said that he might be hurting, too.
"Hey," Tracy's voice had softened in volume, but Weston could still hear some bite in her tone, "did you hit your head in the crash? You look a little undstea-"
"Shut up, bitch! No one asked for your opinion."
