Amber Morn (31 page)

Kent swung his gun barrel at her and sprang to his feet. Rage rippled across his big face. “You gone and said the wrong thing, girl.”

Time slowed. Paige looked at the barrel of the gun and felt nothing. Saw only Frank’s face, remembered the sound of his voice… their first date.… first kiss.

All gone.

“Paige, sit
down
.” Wilbur’s voice gruffed.

Her feet took another step toward Kent. “Go ahead, shoot me.”

Leslie heaved a sob. “Paige,
please stop
.”

The sights and sounds all came at once then. Bailey and Ted and Jared shouted at her. Brad shouted back. Kent yelled, “Shut
up
!”

Paige moved toward Kent.

Wilbur hustled to reach her. Brad shoved to his feet. “Stop!”

Kent’s gun jerked.

Gunshots split the air.

Paige froze. Funny she didn’t feel the bul —

The door blew open.

A canister rolled in.

Brad and Kent swung their guns around.

The room flashed like a thousand lightning bolts.

Exploded.

Paige toppled backward, stunned. As she hit the floor, Java Joint’s bright, yawning doorway froze in her brain.

EIGHTY

Vince watched CRT rush into Java Joint, a fist pressed to his mouth, telephone forgotten, his back muscles like iron. None of the men in the office uttered a word.

The seconds ticked by, an eternity.

Roger had answered a phone call and faded out the door. Vaguely, Vince registered him standing out in the hall, talking to someone.

A blur of movement inside Java Joint. No way to make out what was happening.

Faces flashed in his head. Bailey, Wilbur. Leslie, S-Man. Bev, Pastor Hank, and Jared. Carla and Paige.

Please, Lord, don’t let us lose any of them.

EIGHTY-ONE

“On the ground, on the ground!” Jack and his men swarmed inside Java Joint, their shouts muffled in the gas masks.

Jack saw Dust-up veer left. Swank jumped to the right with his shield and rammed a gunman —
Brad
— already staggering. Brad fell, loosening his grip on an MP5.

In an instant Jack took in the scene — dazed people at tables, a young woman and elderly man on the floor.

He aimed at Brad and fired.

Gunfire to the left. Jack swiveled around, saw Dust-up had taken down a second HT.

Kent.

The gunfire silenced.

The third, where was the third?

Swank and Goose ran for the hall.

Jack swung right, left, finger on the trigger.

One, two hostiles.

The
third
?

The stunned hostages started to move.

Tear gas expanded, seeking every square inch of space in the building. They needed to get the hostages outside.

Gunfire erupted down the hall. Jack sprinted toward Goose and Swank, Dust-up on his heels.
Radt-a-dat-a-dat.
Shots from inside the second room, closed door.
Bathroom
. The door splintered. Goose reeled back, hand flying to his leg.

Jack poured bullets through the bathroom door. Shots fired back. The lock gave way. Swank moved in with his shield, kicked in the door. Jumped back. The third hostile in the room —
Mitch
— fired at Swank. Bullets pinged against the shield. Jack ducked around Swank and let his own bullets fly.

The man jerked around like a wild marionette. His gun clattered against the wall. He collapsed across the toilet, then slid to the floor.

Sudden, stark silence. Jack could hear his own breathing.

He kicked aside the hostile’s gun. Checked to make sure he was dead.

In the hallway Swank was helping Goose get up. Jack jabbed his finger toward the front —
Out, out, out!
Goose half limped, half ran up the hall, aided by Swank, Dust-up behind them. Jack followed and headed for the hostages.

Lightning and Harley were helping people up, looking for wounds. Tear gas clouded the air. Jack ran for the elderly man and young woman on the floor near Kent. The woman lay crumpled on her side.

Paige.

Dust-up set his gun on the floor and squatted down to aid the older man.
Wilbur
.

Jack helped Paige sit up. Her eyes were squeezed shut and watering. No sign of a bullet wound. Wilbur hacked and moaned. Older people, especially those suffering from emphysema or other lung problems, could be more affected by the gas. The man needed fresh air immediately. Dust-up pulled him to a sitting position, trying to get him on his feet.

Sudden sound behind Jack. Cursing, the scrape of a hard substance across the floor. Jack swiveled — and stared down the barrel of a gun.

EIGHTY-TWO

In the police station hallway, Roger listened to the woman on the phone.

His brain turned numb.

Tense whispers filtered from Vince’s office. “Where
are
they?” “What’s happening?” Roger barely noticed. He knew only that it was too late. If this caller was on the level — and she sounded like she was — it was too late to help the Wicksell men.

He turned toward the second office. “Thank you for calling.” His voice sounded wooden. “Just hang on a minute, I’ll need to take down your contact information.”

“But I don’t want…”

Roger reached the desk, picked up a pen. “I understand your concern. But you did the right thing. It’s important that we check this out.”

“I don’t want him to know I called!” Fear pulsed in her tone.

“He doesn’t need to know.”

“But he
will
. I’m the one he said it to.”

“If he bragged to you, he’ll probably brag to others. We’ll keep your name out of it.” Roger poised the pen over the paper. “Please now. There are lives on the line.”

But it’s too late.

A long silence.

“Okay.”

Roger wrote down her information.

EIGHTY-THREE

I’m dead.

Jack froze.

An eternal second spun out. Kent raise up on one shaky elbow, aiming Dust-Up’s weapon. His neck muscles were rigid, face red with anger, eyes watering.

All those bullet holes in his chest.
How
was he still moving?

Regrets flooded Jack’s brain. His wife, his daughters. He wouldn’t live to see his girls go off to college, get married —

Paige screamed.

Dust-up jerked around.

Jack heaved to the right.

Kent pulled the trigger.

Dust-up yelled through his gas mask. He leapt up, kicked the gun from the hostile’s hand. Kent’s elbow gave way. He slammed back to the floor, writhing.

Lightning sprinted over, aimed point-blank between Kent’s eyes and fired.

Kent’s body twitched, then stilled.

Jack’s heart nearly beat out of his ribs.

Dust-up cursed, snatched up his gun. Stuck the barrel in Kent’s chest and pumped out more bullets.

Jack pushed to his feet, shouting in his mask. “Dust-up, stop! He’s dead.”

Dust-up paid no heed, terror and shock and rage burning in his eyes. Jack’s death would have been
his
fault.

The CRT commander gripped him hard by the shoulders. “Stop! We’ve got to get the hostages out!”

Dust-up’s eyes cleared. He blinked, shrugged out of Jack’s grasp. Kicked Kent’s body hard, looked around for any other unsecured weapons, then turned back to Wilbur.

Jack took a deep breath. His pulse still ran double time.

Later in debriefing, he and his men would assess what went wrong. Now they still had work to do.

He checked around for his other team members. Signaled them a thumbs-up.

Swank had put down his shield to help the hostages. Jack recognized a blur of white, shell-shocked faces from their photos. Hank… Leslie… Ted… They all helped one another up, holding on to each other. In their own addled states, most didn’t seem to realize Jack had nearly lost his life. One woman (
Bailey
) grabbed onto his arm and spewed thank-yous, even through her coughs and tears.

Where was Goose? They had to get him to a hospital.

It’s over. We did it.

You’re alive.

As the knowledge sank in, Jack felt the familiar energy drop of a mission completed. But no time for emotion now. He had to get out of there, peel off his mask, and radio an all-clear to Vince. Minutes later, cars and ambulances would come swooping down. He’d need to help.

Images of his daughters’ faces crowded Jack’s head as he hurried to help the battle-weary hostages out of Java Joint.

EIGHTY-FOUR

Vince skidded his vehicle to a stop on Main and ran down the pavement toward the ragtag, hacking hostages.

Bailey had collapsed on the curb, shoulders sagging and legs askew in the street. Carla slumped beside her. Vince stooped down in front of them.

“Bailey, Carla. You all right?”

They blinked at him, eyes watering and noses running. “M-my throat burns.” Carla still looked half in shock.

He nodded. “That’s normal. It’ll pass. Medical teams are on their way to check you over.” He heard the sirens. “There they are now.”

Bailey grabbed his arm. “John! Is he okay?”

John.
Vince gave her a wan smile. “Haven’t talked to him in a while, but I’m sure he’s fine. You’ll see him real soon.”

“The girls?” Carla swallowed hard.

“They’re fine. With Ali’s parents.”

Carla’s eyes closed. She hitched in a breath. “What about Angie?”

“They took her to the hospital to check out her heart.”

Vince heard crying farther down the sidewalk. He pushed to his feet and spotted Leslie, Paige, and S-Man. In the street, one of the CRT men was attending to Wilbur, Pastor Hank looking on. Jared held a shivering Bev.

Sirens shrieked, then died away. Vince turned to see two ambulances at the intersection at Second. A third pulled in behind. EMTs jumped out.

“Over here!” Jack yelled at a medical team. He stood by one of his men who lay on the sidewalk, one leg bloodied. Vince trotted over. “He going to be all right?”

“Yeah. A leg wound, bleeding pretty bad, but no main artery hit.” Jack’s face looked pinched. Vince understood. He knew what it felt like to have a man down.

The EMTs drew near. Vince backed off and let them work on their patient.

He looked back to the sound of sobs. Leslie held Paige in both arms, Paige’s head against her chest. They rocked back and forth. Paige’s shoulders heaved.

Frank.

He hurried over to them. S-Man’s face was drawn and haggard.

“Paige.” Vince touched her head. She shrugged him away. Leslie turned helpless, bloodshot eyes upon him.

“Listen, Paige.” He placed both hands on her shoulders. Nudged her away from Leslie. “Have you heard about Frank? He came through surgery. He’s in critical care, but they feel real good about his recovery.”

Leslie’s eyes rounded, and Ted tilted his head up toward the heavens. Paige swiveled her head to Vince, her mouth hanging open, hair stuck against her cheek. “He’s
alive
?” The words croaked.

“Yes. And I’m sure he can’t wait to see you.”

More sirens keened.

Paige fell still, as if the slightest movement might change his story. She stared at him. “But… but he was…”

“Shot three times. But they all missed his heart. He’s alive because John pulled him to safety and we were able to get him to a hospital in time.”

Paige wailed long and loud. Heads turned. Pastor Hank started toward her. Wilbur pushed an EMT away and wrestled up on his elbows. “Go help that girl before she does something stupid; I’m fine!”

“She just found out Frank’s alive, Wilbur!” S-Man swiped his watering eyes with the back of his hand.

“Oh!” Bailey and Carla gasped. They pushed to their feet and stumbled toward Paige, Ted, and Leslie, arms out, breaking into sobs. Vince stepped out of their way. They needed this.

The five of them hugged each other, then moved down the curb into the road. The EMT helped Wilbur up, and he, Pastor Hank, Bev, and Jared met them in the middle of the street. All nine rescued hostages threw their arms around one another, some still coughing, but managing to laugh and cry at the same time.

Vince’s eyes burned. Energy rushed out of him like air from a popped balloon. He sat heavily on the curb. For the first time since the phone call from dispatch that morning, he let his head drop into his hands and
breathed.

PART FOUR

Rebuilding