A Coolvalstories Action Thriller
3:09 PM – Lincoln Elementary School Grounds
Rain fell harder. Sirens wailed. Parents screamed and cried behind police barricades.
Outside the east wing of the school, officers led children out in groups — soaked, shaken, but alive. Some clung to teachers. Some ran straight into the arms of waiting parents.
Near the command van, Detective Morgan Chase barked into his radio.
“Status?”
“Reggie Dawson is in custody. Cooperated. Disarmed. Trey Mensah, too — picked up during evacuation. No resistance.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “And the third one?”
A pause.
“Carlos Montoya is unaccounted for.”
3:13 PM – Kitchen Shadows
Carlos moved quietly through the darkened hallway, past spilled trays and broken lockers.
He slipped into the school kitchen—a large, sterile space of metal countertops, industrial ovens, propane burners, and gas pipes. The kitchen hadn’t been used that day, but it smelled faintly of leftover grease.
He shut the heavy door behind him.
It locked with a solid clunk.
No windows.
No exits except the one he came through.
It was the perfect place to die — or take others with him.
3:16 PM – The Evacuation Ends
Ms. Dana Rivers exited the school with the last group of children. Her voice was gone. Her eyes red.
Skylar clung to her waist.
SWAT officers guided them to ambulances where medics stood ready.
Chase walked up. “Are you okay?”
Dana nodded weakly. “Yes. But one of them—Carlos—he’s still inside.”
“Did you see where he went?”
“He stayed behind. No weapon. But he looked… dangerous.”
Chase’s expression hardened.
“We’ve cleared the hallways. Only room unchecked is the cafeteria and kitchen.”
3:20 PM – Outside the Kitchen
SWAT’s Lt. Hall and his team approached the kitchen doors with rifles raised.
Thermal scan revealed a single body heat signature inside — stationary, kneeling.
Hall whispered into his comm, “Suspect confirmed. One body. No hostages. Possible barricade situation.”
“Proceed with caution,” Chase replied. “We need him alive.”
3:22 PM – Inside the Kitchen
Carlos knelt beside one of the propane burners, turning the knobs slowly. The gas hissed faintly.
He grabbed a matchbook from the sink ledge.
Lit one.
Let it burn out between his fingers.
“No escape. No deals. No mercy,” he muttered to himself.
Footsteps echoed outside the kitchen.
Voices.
“Carlos Montoya! This is your last chance!”
He smiled bitterly.
“Funny thing… I thought I had one too.”
3:25 PM – Tension Mounts
From the hallway, Chase arrived on scene. He crouched beside Hall and spoke through a megaphone.
“Carlos. You’re surrounded. The kids are safe. Reggie and Trey are in custody.”
No response.
“We know this wasn’t part of your plan. But it doesn’t have to end in a body bag.”
Inside, Carlos stood slowly and walked toward the door.
Then… silence.
3:27 PM – Final Standoff
BANG!
The kitchen door flung open.
Carlos stepped out.
Soaked. Hands raised.
But in his left hand — a lit kitchen torch.
He raised it toward the hallway ceiling pipe and shouted:
“You come near me, we all light up!”
Hall’s finger twitched on the trigger.
But Chase held out his hand.
“Let me talk to him.”
He stepped forward. Calm.
3:29 PM – The Conversation
Chase: “What’s this gonna solve, Carlos?”
Carlos: “I gave everything to people who forgot me. War. Jail. Debt. Now this world acts like I don’t exist.”
Chase: “You made choices. But this — this isn’t how you make them remember.”
Carlos’s eyes glistened.
“You think if I go quietly, they’ll tell the truth? About the system? About why we did this?”
“You’re wrong,” Chase said. “But you get one last chance to say your version of the story — alive.”
Carlos looked down at the burner torch in his hand.
Then tossed it aside.
And dropped to his knees.
3:33 PM – Outside
As Carlos was dragged out in cuffs, eyes closed against the rain, a dozen news cameras clicked wildly.
Chase walked beside him, one hand on his weapon, the other steadying his thoughts.
In the distance, Skylar stood beside Dana.
“That’s the angry one,” she whispered.
Dana nodded. “Yes. And now it’s over.”
3:38 PM – In Police Custody
Reggie sat in an interrogation room, quiet.
Trey sat in another.
Two very different men.
One a soldier.
One a hacker.
But both now prisoners of their own choices.
Chase stood in the hallway between their rooms, reviewing surveillance footage and bodycam feeds.
“This wasn’t just a bank job,” he said softly. “Someone funded this. Someone else is behind it.”
Another officer asked, “You think it was a cover-up for something bigger?”
Chase looked through the glass at Reggie — staring blankly at the wall.
“I think this is just the beginning.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
