CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
Georgie heard the words she’d dreaded since the units had left the Bacchus Marsh station nearly two hours ago. And again as an echo in her mind. Siege. Shots fired. Armed offender. Possible hostage.
‘Anyone hurt?’ the uniform asked.
‘The status of Hilda Getty is unknown. We have spoken to Bob Getty, but we haven’t sighted him or her. No way of knowing the condition of either at this stage.’
‘But the Bravo team?’ Georgie butted in.
The uniform cop relayed her question over the radio.
‘All good.’
She breathed out.
‘We need you to redeploy the CIRT crew over here.’ Bruner’s guy went on. He and the uniform continued with logistics for a further two or three minutes, but Georgie’s only awareness was that Franklin and his crew were okay.
For now.
When the room went
