Cross

out and walked.
    “What’s going on? You heard anything?” I asked a man loitering along the way, a guy I recognized from a local bakery, where he was a counterman and where I sometimes bought jelly doughnuts for the kids. Not for myself, of course.
    “Pigfest,” he said. “Cops everywhere. Just look around you, brother.”
    It occurred to me that he didn’t know I’d been a homicide detective, and was FBI now. I nodded at what he said, but you never get used to that kind of resentment and anger, even if sometimes it’s justified. “Pigs,” “bacon,” whatever some people choose to call us, we put our lives on the line. A lot of folks don’t really understand what that’s like. We’re not anything close to perfect and don’t claim to be, but it’s dangerous out here.
    Try getting shot at on your job, bakery-man,
I wanted to say to the guy, but didn’t. I just walked on, sucked it up one more time, played the Happy Warrior again.
    At least I was worked up when I finally spotted Ned Mahoney. I flashed my FBI creds so I could get closer. I still didn’t know what the hell was going on, just that unidentified hostages had been taken inside a dealer’s lab, where drugs were being manufactured and cut. It didn’t sound half as bad as it looked. So what was the catch? There had to be one.
    “Now aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Mahoney said as he saw me heading his way. “Alex, you’re not going to believe this shit. Trust me, you’re not.”
    “Wanna bet?” I said.
    “Ten dollars says you haven’t seen this one before. Put your money up.”
    We shook on it. I really didn’t want to lose this bet.

Chapter 21
    NED SCRATCHED AND RUBBED at his blondish day-or-two-old facial stubble while he talked in his usual animated nonstop nobody-else-gets-a-word-in manner. I couldn’t help staring at his chin. Ned is fair-skinned, and I think it impresses the hell out of him that he can grow a semblance of a beard now that he’s in his forties. I
do
like Ned Mahoney, obnoxious as he can be at times. I like the man a lot.
    “Some guys, maybe a half dozen—well armed—came down here to rob the dealer’s lab,” he said. “They ran into some major problems, got hung up inside. Also, there are some neighborhood people who work in the lab, around a dozen or so from what we can gather. They’re trapped in there too. That’s another problem we have to deal with eventually. Then —”
    I put up a hand to stop Ned’s hyperintense ramble.
    “The people you mentioned who work at the lab? People who package the drugs? They would be mostly women, mothers, grandmothers? That the case? Dealers like workers they can trust with the product.”
    “See why I wanted you here?” Mahoney said, and grinned—at least he showed me his front teeth. His tone reminded me of Jannie’s rant earlier. A little bit of a wiseass masking his vulnerability about being such a “man’s man.”
    “So the drug hijackers
and
the drug dealers are trapped inside? Why don’t we just let them shoot each other?”
    “Already been suggested,” Mahoney deadpanned. “But now we get to the good part, Alex. Here’s why you’re here. The very well-armed guys who came to jack the lab are DC SWAT. Your old compadres are the
other
bad guys in today’s episode of ‘Anything Can Happen and Probably Will!’ You owe me ten bucks.”
    I felt sick again. I knew a lot of guys with SWAT. “You’re sure about this?”
    “Oh, yeah. Couple of patrolmen heard shots in the building. They went to investigate. One uniform got gut-shot. They recognized the guys from SWAT.”
    I moved my head around in circles. Suddenly my neck felt a little tight. “So the FBI’s HRT is here to fight it out with DC SWAT?”
    “Kind of looks that way, my man. Welcome to the suck and all that. You got any bright ideas so far?”
    Yeah, I thought:
Leave here right now. Go back to the kids. It’s a Saturday. I’m off.
    I handed Ned the ten dollars from our bet.

Chapter 22
    I SURE DIDN’T SEE any way out of this sticky mess, and neither did anyone else. That’s why Mahoney had called me in, hoping I might have an idea to bail him out.
    And of course, misery loves company, especially on a sunny afternoon when everybody wants to be anywhere but in the middle of a potential shoot-’em-up where people would probably die.
    The first situation briefing took place in a nearby grade-school auditorium. It was jam-packed with Washington police personnel, but also