Running Hot by Jacob long (the lemonade war series .txt) 📕

cocked his head over to his radio and said, “Open cell 6.”
The door immediately opened and Reed stepped out.
“Alright, cowboy. How do you plan on getting out of here with that gun on me?” Smith asked.
Reed switched the gun from his right hand to his left hand and slipped his jacket off. He took his jacket and hung it on his arm; covering the gun.
“Now lead me out of here,” Reed said. “I made bail, got it?”
Smith grabbed Reed by the right arm and began leading him down the hall. The man in the booth saw them coming and buzzed the door open. They passed by without a word.
The halls were, of course, crawling with cops. Reed’s heart was beating faster and faster the closer they got to the front lobby. Every time a cop brushed past or shot Reed a look he became increasingly afraid of a bloody police shootout; but each one went by with no questions asked.
They got to the front lobby; and it was full of people. Cops ran every which way; people with their various complaints barked at a desk sergeant; a woman gave a description to a police sketch artist; and several desk cops were trying to do their work in the middle of it all.
“Keep moving,” Reed said through his teeth; poking the business end of the pistol into Smith’s side.
Everything was going well. The two were just shuffling their way through the rush of people; when suddenly--
“Where you taking him, Smith?” A desk worker had noticed them and remembered Reed coming in.
“He made bail,” Smith said flatly; pushing his way through the commotion as best he could.
“Really?” The man looked over his papers. “I didn’t get that memo.”
“Damn it, Kowalski, get your shit together!” Smith was performing exceedingly well.
After the serious chewing out from Smith, Kowalski put his head down and went back to his papers.
Reed and Smith finally reached the front door and pushed their way out into the bright sunlight.
“There. Now I’m leaving,” Smith said; turning away.
Reed grabbed his arm; and once again threatened him with the gun, “No; you’re coming with me.”
Smith started yelling. “But I got you out here!”
“Yes; and now you’re going to show me where the car park is,” Reed ordered.
Smith stared at Reed for long moment. “You just met the girl. Why do you care about her?”
“Because she doesn’t deserve what you dickheads are about to do to her!” Reed roared back.
Smith was breathing heavily. He didn’t appreciate being yelled at. He stood there, fuming; looking dead into Reed’s eyes and Reed looking into his with the same ferocity.
Smith gave up on reasoning with Reed and turned away; walking down the sidewalk. Reed followed. They rounded the corner and the car exit became immediately visible. They turned and walked onto the ramp which read: NOT A WALKING LANE. The power saver lights flickered on at their presence and they continued down into the parking lot.
The two came out of the exit ramp and immediately spotted Hutchison and Davis among the multitude of cars. Hutchison was sitting in the front seat; and Davis was lowering a very dismayed Laurel into the back. Davis noticed Reed and Smith coming toward them as he shut the door.
“What are you doing with him; Smith?” he asked.
“Davis, you should leave,” Smith tried to warn him.
“What are you talking about?” Davis didn’t even have an inkling that anything could have gone wrong.
Without warning, Reed pointed the gun at Smith’s leg and fired a single bullet into it. Smith screamed in agony and grabbed the area. Reed elbowed Smith in the face and he fell on his back.
Davis reached for his gun and Reed quickly popped two into his chest. Davis fell back against the open driver’s side door with gun in hand. Hutchison started clambering out of the driver’s seat; struggling with his holster. Reed shot at him and it tore a straight line in the skin on his shoulder. Hutchison reeled back into the seat and put pressure on the area.
Reed pulled his jacket off his arm and slipped it onto his back; returning the gun into his jeans. He power-walked over to the rear door and tore it open. Laurel was curled up in the fetal position on the seat; covering her ears.
“Laurel!” Reed yelled; reaching in and putting his hand on her shoulder.
She uncovered her ears and looked up. “Reed?”
Reed held his hand out to her. “We have to get out of here!”
Laurel grabbed his hand and he helped her out. When she saw all the downed cops she freaked.
“What? Reed, did you shoot them?” she squeaked.
“Come on!” Reed pulled her along; trying to get her to run.
“But Reed-!”
Smith tried to move through the pain. He slowly unclipped his holster and drew his gun. He aimed up at the two running perpetrators and fired a few pot shots; missing completely. The bullets screamed into the ceiling above the two. Laurel shrieked and covered her head. Reed continued to frantically pull her up the ramp. He really couldn’t figure out why, when bullets were being fired at her; that her plan of action was to stop instead of run. Soon they were up the ramp and out of Smith’s line of sight.
Smith threw his gun to the floor and called into his radio. “This is Officer Frederick Smith reporting a police shooting in the second precinct car garage; officers down.”
The response from Dispatch came swiftly. “Officer, say again; the second precinct car garage?”
“Yes goddammit!” Smith yelled. “Send an EMT!”
“Roger that.”
Smith rolled over and crawled to the police car. He quickly examined Davis’s bullet wounds and checked his pulse; he was dead.
Hutchison was still holding his shoulder inside the car. “How is he?”
“He’s dead,” Smith said flatly.
“Shit,” Hutchison breathed. “That guy was fast.”
“Stop whining,” Smith growled. “We’ll get him. Right now we just have to get our story straight for when the others arrive.”

4)
“Reed Newton? Is that the guy’s name?”

Despite all of Reed’s precautions, he had been made. Matthew Brice, a New York native and New Jersey detective had recognized Reed from his extensive news coverage and took an interest. Matt had a soft face that made him kook younger than he was; matted brown/black hair and dark blue eyes. He went to the cell block but found Reed’s cell empty; of course. He had just made his escape. When the guard in the booth told Matt not to bother, that Officer Smith had already escorted the prisoner out, he was thoroughly dismayed. He scratched his head and walked back to the lobby.
Matt was undaunted as he went to the prisoner record manager, his good friend Jessop Kowalski, for some answers.
“Hey Jess; do you know why Officer Smith took Reed Newton out of his cell?” he asked.
“Reed Newton? Was that the guy’s name?”
“Yes,” Matt answered. “So do you know?”
Kowolski scoffed. “Yeah they walked right past here. Smith said the perp had made bail; but I didn’t get that memo. When I asked him about it he bit my head off; telling me to find it, then he just left with Reed. I still can’t find any record of bail being posted.”
Matt let out big, exasperated sigh. “So, he’s gone.”
“Yeah.”
Matt was about to leave but, being a detective, he had weighed the evidence and had considered the worst of possibilities. What if Reed and Smith were working in tandem? With Reed Newton’s reputation Matt really couldn’t put it past him; and Smith wasn’t exactly the nicest guy in the world either.
“Did Smith say where he was going?” Matt asked.
“No; he just left.”
“Crap,” Matt breathed.
Suddenly one of the sergeants started yelling. “Quiet! Quiet! Everyone shut up!”
Matt knew the sergeant. It was Wolfgang Nitch; a good man. Whatever he had to say had to be important.
Finally the room fell silent. The only sound that remained was a dispatch lady’s voice over the radio. “Attention all units; reported police shooting in the second precinct car garage; officers down; repeat, officers down.”
After a moment of shocked hesitation, the sergeant ran for the front door and a few other armed officers followed; including Matt. A few unintelligent ones made for the elevators.
Matt and the gang of cops ran around the corners and rushed to the exit ramp. A crowd of people had heard the gunshots and had gathered around the entrance; gazing down into the abyss.
Sergeant Nitch started shouting and pushing people out of the way. “All right, move out of the way! Police coming through! Jesus Christ. Who would shoot at cops in the police station parking lot!”
Matt was almost right behind him now. He began briefly glancing at the faces of all the shamelessly curious bystanders as they turned away from the hole. Among them were a short, fat woman, a tall man in a suit, a mother and her kids, a messy-haired man in a jacket, a beautiful blonde woman, two twins, and a mailman. Soon the sergeant had paved the way to the ramp and the squad charged down to the parking lot. They all split up at the bottom and took up tactical positions around pillars and such.
Eventually Smith yelled, “He’s gone you idiots! Help us!”
All of the confused policemen came out from behind the pillars and took stupefied looks around before holstering their guns. Then they ran over to the injured officers.
Smith and Hutchison were sitting up against the cop car; holding their various damaged body parts.
“Oh my god, Davis,” Nitch gasped at the sight of Davis’ already pale skin. He knew Davis couldn’t possibly still be alive but still checked his pulse for certification.
“What happened here?” Matt asked.
Smith shot him a look and said, “Hutchison and Davis here were moving Laurel Jacobs to Atlantic City. I was questioning the other suspect when he pulled out a gun and threatened me to take him out of the police station. He threatened my family, Brice!” Smith squealed. “I had to do it! He made me take him down here and then he just started shooting! He killed Davis; grabbed his girlfriend, and left!”
“How did he get a gun?” Matt shouted.
Here Hutchison had to do his part. “I—didn’t bother to frisk him when I brought him in.”
To Matt this was ridiculous. “Wha--?”
Nitch interrupted with the matter at hand. “Which way did he go?”
Smith flung his arm up and pointed at the ramp. “He ran up that way not one minute ago!”
All of the cops looked around at each other. Finally Nitch said, “I didn’t see him.”
“How could anyone make it out of here without being seen by that mob of people out there?” another cop asked.
“Maybe they didn’t,” Nitch put in; turning to some cops. “Ask around up there! Let no one leave until you’ve questioned everybody!”
The officers complied; running toward the ramp.
Matt was quiet; thinking about all the people in the crowd. Suddenly he sighed and slapped his hand on his forehead. “I saw them.”

The messy-haired man and the blonde woman suddenly detached from the group and walked away down the sidewalk.
“That was close,” Laurel whispered.
“Yeah; just keep moving,” Reed replied.
They walked down the streets for no more than twenty minutes; silent and with their heads down. Finally Reed turned them into an alley.
“Oh my god. We’re in big trouble,” Laurel said, lowering herself to sit against the side of the alley.
Reed took a couple glances around and then said, “Alright, good luck.” He offered up a short wave goodbye and turned to leave.
Laurel quickly