The Merger – 32

 

"And another one…" Josh said with a brief smile.

Mike had other things on his mind than finishing the words to the song. Comstock had Stanton backed against the center row of boxes, his gun pressed to Stanton's chest as he muttered, "Say your prayers, bastard." The words had barely left his mouth when he howled in agony. It took Mike a second to realize that Stanton had kneed him in the groin. A shot rang out, followed by a second one. Comstock went down as blood flowed from a shoulder wound. Unfortunately, so did Stanton, his hand clasped to his side, blood seeping between his fingers.

"Damn, I can't leave you alone for a minute without you getting into trouble," Thad said, rushing into the room, his gun drawn. He dropped down beside Stanton, asking, "How bad?"

"I'll live," Stanton replied between gritted teeth. "Get their guns."

Mike did, dropping them into the open safety deposit box sitting on the floor. Thad was on the phone. Mike figured he was calling 9-1-1, since he asked for an ambulance and the police.

Osborne had come into the room by then. He took one look at the fallen men then said he'd be right back. He was, a minute later, carrying a first-aid box. Flipping it open, he took out several large gauze pads, handing some to Mike. "See what you can do to help Stanton," he said, while looking in disgust at Comstock. "I'd rather let this son of a bitch bleed out, but…" He shrugged then began ministering as best he could to Comstock's shoulder wound, grumbling, "You couldn't have hit a bit lower, George, and nicked a major artery instead of a minor one?"

At that point, Josh came over to the group, kneeling to help Mike. It took Mike a second before he noticed that Josh's shirtsleeve was damp with what he was certain was blood. "Hell, you were hit, too."

"A flesh wound is all, from the ricochet," Josh told him. "Like George, I'll live."

"Mr. Osborne, could you let the police in," Thad asked, as they heard the sounds of sirens coming from the alley. "I'll take over."

Osborne did as Thad asked while Thad replaced the blood-soaked gauze on Comstock's shoulder with a fresh pad. Moments later police officers and EMTs flooded into the room.

The EMTs immediately took over ministering to Stanton and Comstock while the police asked everyone else to move into the hallway. Three of the officers helped the Tasered men to their feet. Once they'd ascertained that they were employed by Comstock, they put cuffs on their wrists, then—after an EMT had checked them out—escorted the men to waiting squad cars. At Mike's insistence, Josh had allowed one of the EMTs to look at his wound. The EMT cleaned and bandaged it, telling Josh that he'd been correct. It was only a minor flesh wound. He suggested Josh visit his personal doctor if became sore or inflamed then let him go.

Thad took another officer into the tellers' work area and moments later, the officer led a dazed-looking Burt from the room in handcuffs, to join his companions in a squad car.

By then, the EMTs had, one at a time due to the small area they had to work in, put Stanton and Comstock on gurneys. After Osborne had unlocked the bank's front door, they were taken to waiting ambulances—Comstock under police guard.

A police detective had arrived by then. The first thing he did after introducing himself as Detective King was retrieve the safely deposit box from the vault. At Osborne's suggestion, they all moved into his office. The detective brought the box with him, putting on latex gloves before checking the contents. Although he didn't say so, from the look on his face, Mike was certain that what it contained would go a long way toward putting Comstock out of business for good.

Then King took statements from Osborne, Mike, Josh, and Thad about what had gone down—and why. The detective was less than happy that the police hadn't been brought in to handle the operation and let them know that in no uncertain terms.

"He—Mr. Nowell, that is—threatened my daughter's life after kidnapping her," Osborne replied acerbically. "I told you that. No police or they'd kill her. After Mr. Harte and Mr. Aston rescued Bethany last night, I received the call this morning in which Nowell—or perhaps it was Comstock—threatened my wife and daughter if I didn't follow through with his plans."

"The police know how to handle kidnapping situations," King retorted. "We're well trained to deal with them."