Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,56
channels, and they can patch in.”
They sprinted to Outdoor Outfitters. Con read boxes by flashlight while Bailey located batteries. She stuffed packages of disposable hand warmers, two sets of foot-warmer heating pads and Polarshield emergency blankets in her pack. As cold as it was becoming, they might need them later. She also spotted a portable, retractable clothesline made of thin, black plastic-coated wire that might come in handy for tying up bad guys. She finished as he selected six walkie-talkies and laid them on the counter in the back of the store.
She inserted batteries into three red radios while he put them in three blue ones. He placed a hands-free headset and mic on her ears and clipped a blue receiver to her waistband. He then situated a headset and blue unit on himself. “I’m going to hook the robbers up with a modified two-way FRS system—family radio service—and lock in one channel. It’s short range and they won’t be able to hear or talk to anyone but us. SWAT will be able to tap into the transmissions, though. I’ll be the go-between. The robbers will be on the blue set.”
“And the red set?”
“The red set is a GMRS, or general mobile radio system. Transmits up to five miles, and to a greater range of frequencies.” He clipped a red walkie-talkie to her waistband beside the blue unit and then one on his own. “If we switch the headset mic back and forth, we can talk to each other, and SWAT on the red unit, and the bad guys can’t eavesdrop.”
“Who is the third red radio for?”
“Syrone.”
“Now for the million-dollar question. How are you going to deliver the radio to the robbers without getting caught?”
“I have a plan.”
“Of course you do. Will I hate it?”
He didn’t reply. “First things first. Back to the sky bridge.”
They raced to the sky bridge, where Con performed another complicated hand dance, and more flashing lights replied. She switched on her red receiver and he showed her how to operate the radios. “These are both manual and VOX, voice activated. If VOX is on we don’t have to key the mics. The receiving light will blink when someone transmits to us.” He plugged the headset mic into his red unit, and she heard his voice in her earpiece. “SWAT Command, this is the Nutcracker, do you read? Over.”
A few tense seconds of static buzz. Then a click echoed in her ears. The static disappeared. “Loud and clear,” his big brother Aidan’s smooth, deep cadence replied. “Nice to hear from you. This is SWAT Command. Is this channel secure? Over.”
“Ten-four. As much as it can be.”
“Got yourself into quite a conundrum there, eh? Over.”
Con grinned. Close to all three of his brothers, Con was closest to Aidan. Aidan had always razzed Con without mercy. The two played pranks on one another, and on their younger brothers that usually landed the pranksters in major hot water. Aidan was always there when he needed an ear. Steady. Dependable. No better man to have at your back. On a tactical op or in an emotional shitstorm. “Nothing I can’t handle. You’re command? Over.”
“That’s a ten-four. I’m the senior ranking officer on site. Alpha Dog is ten-seven and out of communication.”
“Oh, hell, we’re all in deep shinola. Over.”
“Nutcracker, what’s your status?”
“Lead-free and rolling. About to visual hostages and contact suspects. Crew leader’s name is Tony. He’s issued a deadline and threatened the hostages’ lives. Claims he’s wired the doors. He blew the vault, so he’s probably not bluffing. You have fifteen minutes to form an aggressive assault plan that doesn’t involve the main doors. If you don’t hear from me, green-light it. Over.”
“Ten-four. Fifteen minutes. Make sure you’re clear of the area.”
“Roger that. And Command?” Con’s voice cracked slightly. “He’s wearing Dad’s watch.”
“What?” Shock echoed in Aidan’s sharp question. “Repeat. Over.”
“Tony is wearing Dad’s watch. The one he had on when he was killed. My gut says this crew has been pulling the string of unsolved bank jobs and home invasions. I know it’s a long shot, but get somebody on the computers and see if the name and MO pops. Will advise next move. Stand by. Over.”
“Ten-four.” Aidan paused. “Nutcracker?” The low admonition belonged to the big brother, not the cop. “Watch your back.”
“Always do.” The emotion layered beneath the carefree words was the younger brother’s. “Don’t worry about me. Just nail this scumbag’s butt to the wall. Over and out.”
No matter how many times she witnessed it, the