“Marranito,” the man said sharply, nostrils flaring.
“Hands in the air!” ordered Lumbergh.
The man shook his head. “I leave him here for you!” he shouted, nodding his head sideways at the couch. “You call. You fix him up.” He pressed the muzzle of his gun harder to the hostage’s head. “You, come!”
He guided the hostage to their left by a handful of the back of his shirt, his eyes shifting between Lumbergh and Corbett, who had moved under the jet’s tail.
“You leave him right where he’s at!” shouted Corbett. “You’re not taking him anywhere.”
The captor’s lips twisted into a confident smile. “What you gonna do? You shoot me, you shoot him!”
His eyes bounced between the cops and the Suburban. He drew closer to the vehicle. It seemed he knew he couldn’t get his partner out, and was trying
