Lena Diaz - Swat Standoff

The dilapidated structure was just as he remembered it—a sagging collection of warped gray boards, which were partially covered in vines that should have given up the ghost a long time ago. He figured it was similar to many other old structures throughout the Smokies, like those found near Cades Cove. It was a relic of another century. But unlike its cousins that were protected because they were in the Smoky Mountains National Park, this one was clearly suffering from a lack of historical society preservation.

If the building could talk, he imagined it would have some amazing stories to tell, the same way old men liked to rock on front porches, reliving the glory days with anyone who would listen. He smiled at that thought and pulled one of the large double doors open.

And froze.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

“Blake? Larry wasn’t out in a bar with them. And Tim—”

He whirled around to stop her, but it was too late. She’d already seen inside. Her eyes widened with horror at what was visible in the beam of her flashlight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Oh, please, God. No .”

She dropped to her knees beside the bullet-riddled body of SWAT officer and fellow detective Randy Carter.

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