A Complicated Christmas

. “Cody! Behind you!” Wentworth shouted the alarm as he raised his gun to high-ready and took aim. But time had run out. Hearing his partner’s shout, Cody spun around with just enough time for surprise to register on his face when he saw the “no prisoners taken” expression of the scrubs-clad nurse with a hammer raised above her head. Just as her arm lowered to drive home her point, Weston had only a fraction of a second to feint to the right, and Wentworth’s gun fired. That split second of time may very well have saved the young officer’s life. The simunition round hit its intended target, burying itself deeply into the nurse’s left hip before falling harmlessly to the floor. The nurse’s aim was also true, consequently Weston, too, hit the floor. Braelyn screamed from pain and fear. Her grasp loosened on the tool she had so expertly wielded and dropped from her hand as she slowly sank down the wall to her knees. Dan, having just contacted charge nurse Susan Gardner, heard the gunshot as well as the nurse’s blood-curdling scream. Temple’s head jerked to the right so fast it hurt. His hands firmly grasping his rifle, he ran back down the hall to his fellow officers. “I’m SCPD, not the Army. Not the Army anymore, yeah right,” Dan grumbled to himself as he ran. “Sue, stay here!” Dan shouted over his shoulder, and the nurse nodded her acknowledgement. “Shit!” Wentworth swore. With rifle securely in hand, he dashed over to where his buddy lay on the floor. Knocked cold, Cody’s eyes rolled back in his head. Going limp, the 6-foot-2, 187-pound officer gasped as he crumpled to the floor where he came to rest on his right side. “Oh my gosh!” Braelyn gasped as her left hand rose to her face, her fingers covering her lips. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Wentworth angrily shouted as his booted right foot kicked the hammer well out of the nurse’s reach. There was now no way she would be able to snatch it up again and use it against the shooters. “Please don’t kill me, please,” Braelyn pleaded, her body pressed tightly against the wall. “What the fuck are you talking about?!” Wentworth shouted, adrenaline running high. “Why in the hell would I kill you?!” “Well, you are terrorists!” Braelyn bluntly accused, turning fiery eyes up at the black-clad shooter. “What?!” Wentworth shouted. Keeping his rifle trained on the nurse, he went down on one knee beside his buddy. Placing two fingers to the side of Weston’s neck, he felt for a pulse. He found one. “Thank God,” he muttered, and then stood up again. “I have to protect this floor!” Braelyn explained as she warily pushed herself to her feet. But, as she rose so did her ire, and she found her hands balling into angry fists at her sides. Then, from out of the blue, the petite nurse lashed out at the officer, repeatedly pummeling the officer/shooter’s chest. “Hey! We’re SCPD! Knock it off!” Wentworth shouted, and slinging his rifle behind his back, he worked to grab both of her fists to put an end to the impromptu beating he was taking. “You are not!” Braelyn shouted, arguing with him. “You’re terrorists! Where’s your badge, where’s your gun?” “Behind my fucking back, lady! Now stand down! Damn it! Stop, would ya?!” But Braelyn was determined, and agile; it was obvious she was willing to stand her ground till she couldn’t any longer. “Lady, I will flat out put your ass on the ground if you don’t stop, right now!” “What the fucking hell is going on here?!” Dan demanded to know as he ran over to where one of his men was fighting with a nurse whose left hip was colored a vibrant hot pink hue, while his other concern was lying on the floor, cold-cocked and groaning in misery. “Lieutenant! Give me a hand with this she-cat!” Wentworth pleaded, as dark red blood ran down his cheeks. Braelyn had done her best to mark him, gouging three jagged lines in his flesh. She was making sure she had a DNA sample for the detectives that were sure to follow. Together, Temple and Wentworth were able to subdue the panicking nurse. “Stop it! Stop it right now!” Braelyn shouted, and even though her arms were pulled behind her back she was still fighting against both men. Since her hands were being held, she opted to strike them multiple times with sneakered feet. “Unnnhhh,” they heard someone groan. It was Weston as he rolled onto his back, his right hand still holding tight to his rifle. “Hey, Gardner!” Dan shouted down the corridor, sufficiently getting the nurse’s attention. Having done her best to settle her nervous colleagues, Sue came on the run. “What happened to him?” Sue asked as she took a knee beside the downed officer. “Your nurse attacked him.” “Braelyn?” Sue asked, surprised by the announcement. “Yeah?” “Did you do this?” Sue asked, turning her gaze on the young nurse. “I did,” she admitted. “I thought they were bad guys. I had to protect my team.” “But didn’t they tell you to stop?” Sue calmly questioned her colleague. “Yes ma’am. But I was …” “Out of control?” Wentworth dryly offered, as he raised his left hand to the corner of his mouth, wiping away the thin trickle of blood that was slowly oozing a small track toward his chin. “Sue, I think this nurse should be registered with SCPD as a hazmat issue,” Dan suggested. “You mean you really are cops?” Braelyn asked, stunned by the news. “Yes, Braelyn, they are really cops,” Sue patiently confirmed. “So, you hit him?” “Yes ma’am.” “What the hell with?” Sue asked. “Just a little hammer,” Braelyn shrugged. “Just a little hammer?” Wentworth gasped, which caused him to start coughing. “Crap! That is a 32-ounce Ball Peen Dead Blow hammer! I know, I have one at home!”