August 1988

My peaceful day off turned into a rescue mission for Tom Hanson. I was watering my plant that lives in the corner of my living room when Fuller called me at home from the precinct and said that I needed to get down to Taft High School as soon as I could. It was the perfect start to the beginning of the school year.

Taft High did not have the cleanest record for well-behaved students. I'm not sure what Tom's assignment was, but it went seriously wrong. Fuller informed me that he was being held captive by one of the students of the school in one of the classrooms with a bunch of other kids.

"I just wish I knew what was going on in there. Any ideas, Gregg?" Fuller asked me.

As I was brainstorming and looking at the school that was now surrounded by police officers and the SWAT team, one of the officers came over to us and said, "he is making demands."

Fuller frowned and asked, "what does he want?"

"He's asking for hoagie sandwiches."

"Hoagies?" Fuller grimaced. Then he ordered, "nobody goes in and nobody comes out, you hear me?"

I blurted without thinking, "get me in there."

Fuller looked at me with an unmistakable avoid in his expression. "What did I just say?"

"Listen, if he's making demands then he is more statically likely to let the hostages go, including Tom," I pointed out.

Fuller sighed and eyed me wearily. "That's true. He's armed."

"I know."

"Okay. Okay, give me a minute."

Fuller walked off and I stayed by one of the police cruisers. I kept looking at the school, trying to think of a better solution to this problem. If only we knew what was going on in there, we would be able to safely help everyone and get Tom out of there as fast as possible.

Fuller came back and tossed a blue and black uniform my way that belonged to a popular sandwich shop called the Waverly Sub Station. It's local and family owned, so it's one of the best sandwich shops in town. He also put a bullet proof vest on me. He said firmly as he snapped and tightened it, "you don't take this vest off for any reason. Do you understand me?"

I threw my hair into a ponytail and placed a hideous visor that matched the uniform over my head. I nodded, "loud and clear, Cap'n."

"Do not stay in there with them. Go in, deliver the sandwiches, then come back and let us know what's going on in there. That's an order."

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"Okay. Send her in," Fuller said and one of the cops from this district escorted me to the door. I heard him chattering on a walkie talkie stating that I was going in. I took a deep breath, holding nearly ten bags of sandwiches in my hands, with two guns hidden around my ankles.

I began walking through the hallway, and I was interrupted when I heard a low whistle behind me. I turned and saw one of the students, waving me over with a gun. I kept my face straight, and followed him into the classroom.

In the classroom, sat Tom and about fifteen other students who looked absolutely terrified. This reminded me of the first assignment we had with Fuller, where Doug and I went in to deliver pizzas. I tried not to look at Tom, in order to make it seem like I didn't know him and I set the sandwich bags on the teachers desk. I don't think they knew he was a cop.

"Who are you?" One of the kids asked me.

"Mickey Lantz," I answered. Elm Street. I nodded at a student who was sitting in the teachers chair and asked, "where's the money?"

He wore a black sweatshirt, with a gun in his hands. Fuller told me earlier that his name is Jamison. He asked, "what money?"

"My boss will kill me if I don't bring back the money for these sandwiches," I stated.

He gestured his head over toward Tom, "sit next to that one. Tommy Walker."

I walked over and sat in the empty seat next to him. I cleared my throat softly and scratched at my ankle in an effort to inform him that I was armed. Tom tapped the desk with his finger a couple times to indicate that he understood. I let out a small sigh of relief. Times like this made me thankful that we understood each other so well. No wonder why we make such great partners.

I noticed Jamison and one of his henchmen whispering and looking over at me. Then, Jamison walked up to me with a sickening smile on his face. "Take off the vest."

"I'd rather not," I said, my blood ran cold at the thought of taking it off.

"I said, take it off," he repeated through his teeth, changing his demeanor from creepy to angry. He pointed the gun at my jaw.

I slowly stood up so we were nose to nose. When I heard the gun click from the safety coming off, and I knew that he meant business. I carefully took the vest off, knowing that Fuller was probably cursing me out under his breath if he could see me through the window. I dropped the vest down on the ground by his feet, and tried to sit back down.

"We should see if she's wired," Jamison said loudly for his men to hear and agree with him. He said to me with lingering eyes, "take off your shirt."

"No," I said with clear disgust in my tone.

"Come on, darling, take off your shirt," he said.

"This has gone far enough," Tom said firmly.

Jamison did not care, he launched his hands up to my shirt and tried to lift it up. I tried to pry his hands off the fabric of my shirt just as Tom stood up and started to yell at him but in that split second, Jamison took his gun and fired it right above Tom's head. Any lower, and he would have blown a chunk out of his hair. Jamison shouted, "when this goes off again, I don't miss. Got it?"

Tom gulped, but he stood his ground. The silence was deafening. My heart was pounding out of my chest. He looked to me and he asked, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said in a strong voice. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," Tom reassured but I knew he was shook up. Even I was shook up.

"On the floor," Jamison ordered, "come on, I don't have all day."

Tom slowly laid down on the floor by my feet, and Jamison brought his attention back on me. I gave him my siren eyes, to show that I wasn't scared of him. And he knew it.

"Now. I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you wired?"

"No," I said truthfully.

"Prove it," he said.

As I felt Tom fiddle with my ankle, I slowly and hesitantly unbuttoned my shirt, and pulled it up over my head. I took my time in order to keep them distracted. I tossed it on a nearby desk, and I looked everywhere but at Jamison's sickening grin. The bra I was wearing was plain black with some lace. Not exactly something I was expecting everyone to be seeing on this fine afternoon.

"Happy now?" I snapped. It took everything in me not to look away from Jamison, but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of making him feel like he won.

"You could always hide it in your bra," he said with a snicker.

As soon as I felt Tom detach my gun from my ankle, I quickly smacked the gun out of Jamison's hand and twisted it out of his grasp. I swiftly got my other gun off my other ankle and pointed both of them at the other students. All their hands shot up, and they only had one other gun between them.

Tom was standing behind me, pointing his gun at them too. Everyone went quiet, now that they knew that we were in control. "You're under arrest."

"Carl! Shoot them!" Jamison demanded anxiously because he was not armed.

Carl shook his head with his hands still up in the sky. "I ain't gonna shoot no cop, man. No way."

Then, the cops from outside busted through the door and they started to arrest everyone who wasn't a hostage. Tom and I helped get the other hostage kids out of the room, and we were the last to leave. I grabbed my shirt from the desk and slipped it back on and slung the bulletproof vest over my arm as I walked alongside Tom to get outside. I buttoned a couple of the middle buttons so I didn't flash more people than I already did.

I went back to Fuller and handed him the vest. His eyebrows came together and he said angrily, "I thought I said that you were not to take this off for anything?"

"I thought him waving a gun in my face, threatening me if I didn't take it off, was a pretty good reason," I said sarcastically.

Fuller sighed, "fair enough. Great job in there. Both of you."

"Thanks," Tom and I both said at the same time.

"Keep up the good work," Fuller said and checked his watch. "Who wants to come into work to do the paperwork?"

Tom spoke up, "I will. It was my bust, Mickey should go home and finish the rest of her day-off in peace."

"Good thinking," I chuckled.

"All right. See you two tomorrow," Fuller said and left with the rest of the cops.

Tom and I said our goodbyes and began walking to our cars on the opposite ends of the parking lot. I paused and called out to him, "hey, Tom!"

He stopped and looked up at me.

"Are you okay?" I asked, "back there was a little... scary." I could not imagine not being shaken after someone fired a gun inches from my head.

Tom started to walk up to me, "I am a trained police officer. I'm fine."

I did not quite believe him but I had to. I smiled and said, "good. Because you owe me dinner."

"I owe you dinner? For what?"

"For saving your ass," I chuckled.

Tom smiled and looked down as he laughed.

"You bet. Where do you want to go?" He asked.

"How much is your life worth?" I asked jokingly.

"Le Tarte Tatin it is!" He exclaimed.

Le Tarte Tatin is one of my favorites restaurants in the area, but it's quite expensive. I only really go for special occasions, like my birthday. Tom knows it's my favorite, so this must count as a special occasion.