Chapter Thirty Eight

“Pate?  Payton?” Sidney held her tightly in his arms. 

“Sidney,” she said in a small voice that was barely a whisper.  He felt something warm and sticky trickle down his hand.  Payton’s large brown eyes rolled back.

“Payton!  Get me an ambulance!” Sidney cried. “She’s been shot! Tony, help me!”

Sidney lay her gently on the sidewalk, calling her name over and over. He didn’t hear the reaction of the police to the shot. He didn’t see the security detail head down the street.  All he knew was that Payton was bleeding all over him.  

“Payton,” he pleaded, brushing the hair back from her forehead.  Her eyes fluttered.  He felt her hand squeeze slightly.  He leaned over her to hear her whisper.

“I love you.”

She was looking up at him while the tears rolled down his cheeks.  She tried to brush them away, but couldn’t lift her hand. He grabbed it and held it to his cheek, kissing her palm.

“You’re going to be okay, Baby. I promise,” he assured her. “I love you, Payton.”

Tony brought the paramedics running to their side.  Sidney sat back and watched them work on his prone girlfriend.  She had lost consciousness again. There was so much blood. 

“Sidney?” Tony tried to get his attention. “Sidney, are you hit?  You’re covered with blood. Is any of it yours?”

It took a minute, but finally Sidney realized that Tony was talking to him.  He looked at the blood on his hands an covering his shirt. “I don’t think… no, not mine.”

The paramedics lifted Payton onto a gurney and rushed her away toward the ambulance.  Sidney followed them and crawled into the ambulance. He held her hand tightly in his.

A shot rang out down the street as they were pulling away. Sidney was so absorbed with Payton, he didn’t think to wonder what it could mean.

Brisson swore at what he witnessed. How the hell did she get away?  She ruined it all.  At first he thought he might have gotten them both, but it seemed she took the bullet for Mr. Perfect.  He dropped the rifle to his side. Everything was ruined. He thought of taking another shot, but a sea of cops were headed in his direction. It was time to go.  He crossed the rooftop to the access door, but when he opened it, he could hear the shuffling of feet and police walkies squawking up the steps.  They got here much faster than he’d expected. They must have already been closing in.  Another mistake.  Pat moved away from the door and searched for something to secure it with.  He found a narrow metal rod, fastened the padlock bracket on the door and slid the narrow piece of metal down through it. It didn’t have to last long, just long enough for him to decide how to proceed. He ran across the roof to the fire escape.  He looked over the edge and four officers in blue were already on their way up. He swore again. He looked across the rooftop. The next building was too far away to jump. They were coming from all sides now.  He was going to have to think of something quick.

Brisson went back to the rifle.  He leveled the sight and peered down the street again. They were loading the girl into the ambulance. There were two technicians along with Tony surrounding her and Mr. Perfect.  There was not a clear shot.  He didn’t have time to miss again.  He could hear the police officers trying to muscle the door open.

“Put the gun down,” called a voice from behind him.  Pat froze, hearing the crushing of multiple footsteps on the rooftop behind him.  There was more than one.  No time left.  “Sir, put the gun down now.”

Pat sighed, “Okay, okay.”  He held the gun in one hand and put the other in the air and began to turn around slowly.

“Sir, do not move. Put the gun on the ground now.”

Pat smiled. In one swift movement, he swung around grabbing the rifle and got ready to fire.

The bullet from the police officer’s gun struck him square in the chest. He barely even registered shock as the power from the bullet forced him backward and he stumbled from the rooftop.

He was dead before he hit the sidewalk below.