Forged in Honor (1995) (42 page)

Walking along the sidewalk, he saw every imaginable wound within twenty feet, and he knew some would never make it unless they got medical attention quickly. An older man covered in what looked like black soot leaned against the hotel wall, staring blankly up at the grumbling sky. Blood trickled down from an ugly scalp wound and puddled in his lap.

Josh knelt down, took a handkerchief from the man's pocket, and held it against the wound. "You're going to have to keep this in place until you get help," Josh said calmly.

The man's eyes slowly rolled to Josh. "What happened?

Do you know what happened?"

Josh lifted the man's hand to the already blood-soaked handkerchief. "There was an explosion. The important thing is that you're alive. Hold that in place and put some pressure on it. You're going to be fine."

Josh got up and walked inside the lobby. The smell hit him first, followed by the silence. It was a living hell-blackened people, lying and sitting against the walls and furniture.

Those with their eyes open seemed dazed. Despite horrible gashes and tears in their limbs or bodies, none spoke or made a sound. The marble floor was slick with coagulated blood and mud and covered with shattered glass. The smell of the blood and burnt flesh was overpowering. He gagged, fought back the bile, and continued to search. Paramedics from the ambulances dashed about from one blackened body to the next, moving those with lesser injuries outside. He heard a helicopter landing outside and knew they'd soon be getting them out to be attended to. A minute passed, then five, and he still had not found her. He was about to give up and go out to check the dead when he saw her. She was sitting against a wall in the lobby, and she was rocking back and forth. Beside her a man was writhing on the floor, holding his hands over his face.

Josh kneeled down and lifted Grant's chin. "You ready to go home?" he asked softly. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, then tears began welling. She tried to speak but nothing came out. He gently ran his hands over her body, feeling for wounds or broken bones before cautiously lifting her to her feet. She was like a rag doll, unable to stand on her own.

He picked her up and walked out the door.

The Waterfront bars and restaurants were packed full of customers, but not the usual tourists. The people who sat silently at the tables or on the floor were stranded commuters.

They watched the televisions or huddled around radios brought out by the staff. The Metro trains and buses had stopped running after the first explosions, leaving midtown office workers with no way home. Although they were safe, there was no way to get in contact with their waiting families at home to tell them they were okay. The phone lines in and out of the city were overloaded with desperate callers seeking word of their loved ones. The restaurant staffs were dead on their feet, since most of the evening shift had not showed up for work. Outside it was a ghost town. People were staying indoors, afraid to leave the safety of homes, apartments, offices, or bars. The city was in shock.

Josh walked into the lobby of Hogate's and spotted Bob talking to a long line of people in front of the phones. "Folks, you're wasting your time standing here. The lines are all overloaded and the news reported their having to dedicate lines for emergency use only. I'm sorry, but everyone is in the same boat. Please clear a passage in the lobby so others can come in. The management will let you know when the phones are working again."

Josh took Bob's arm and steered him toward the door.

"We're probably going to be the entire shift tonight, since our people will probably be called out to help in the city."

Bob nodded with resignation and asked, "How is Glenn?"

Josh nodded. "Okay. Stef and Meg are with her at her apartment. They have her soaking in the tub. She's bruised real bad, but she'll be fine. She was lucky."

The voices of the crowd inside the bar suddenly got loud and angry. Josh and Bob strode into the bar to investigate as the television news announcer said, "... and I repeat, this is just in from sources at the Washington Post. A group calling itself the Islamic Revolution Jihad Committee has claimed responsibility for today's bombings. The cassette tape delivered to the Post this evening claims the bombings are retaliation for the Islamic brothers slain by U. S. troops during Desert Storm in 1991. The tape promises more killing until America is brought to its knees...."

Josh abruptly spun around and walked back out into the lobby, knowing it was a lie. Bob joined him seconds later, shaking his head. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, but I don't think any of us really believed it would."

Josh's jaw muscles twitched as he stared out the window into the darkness.

Stephen sat in a Quantico motel bar watching the news along with packed tables of hushed customers who were, like himself, unable to get into Washington. Hours before, he'd pulled off 1-95 when he saw the backup of traffic. He had been one of the lucky ones and got a room before the rush began. The news later reported that traffic on 1-95 had come to a virtual standstill. There were no police available to clear the accidents and those that were available were trying to keep the left lanes open for emergency vehicles coming in from other towns to help with the large number of casualties.

The traffic was reported to be backed up as far as Fredericksburg to the south and Frederick, Maryland, to the north.

Stephen sat in a corner booth of the dark room with people he didn't know, nursing a gin and tonic and watching the news updates. The people around him were past mad; they wanted blood. Tears trickled down his cheeks-he knew how they felt. During the past days, realization had set in. Mya and his son would not have been able to take more than a few days in prison. Time had run out. The stories from Dinto were never spoken except in whispers among the people. To be taken them meant unspeakable tortures and certain death.

His hands trembled with hatred and guilt.

An older woman sitting beside him leaned over and patted his shaking hand. "I'm scared too. My son works at the Pentagon. I don't know what to do."

Stephen took her hand in his. "We can pray."

Chapter 20.

Josh awoke when Glenn stirred against him. She patted his cheek and slowly got up, testing her mobility. He reached for her hand to coax her back to the bed but she stepped out of reach. "I've got to go in to work and report what happened.

They don't know if I'm alive or dead."

Josh, still fully dressed, nodded. "I'll drive you."

She saw his concern and gave him a smile. "I'd better drive myself. I don't know when I'll be back and I can't call or take the Metro. You take care of Stef and check on your police friend. I'm fine. Really."

He saw in her eyes that she wasn't but also saw she needed him to let her go. He nodded again and got up to kiss her cheek. "Take it easy today," he murmured.

Josh walked into Lil' Darlin's bedroom and abruptly stopped. Bob was curled around Stef on the bed that they had not turned down. It was good to see that she had been protected. He stepped back into the galley and called, "Anybody for coffee?"

Bob came out first, looking embarrassed. He began to speak but Josh motioned to the stove. "Thanks for staying with her. Put some water on, will ya?"

Stefne walked into the tiny kitchen and sat down as if in a trance. "Dad, this is all a nightmare. Bob and I stayed at Meg's most of the night watching TV. It's so horrible."

Josh reached over and took his daughter's hand. "Be thankful we're all okay."

Stefne looked at her father. "Where's Glenn? Is she all right?"

"She had to get to work and report in. Look, the city is going to be turned upside down for the next few days. Don't take any public transportation and don't hang around in one place any longer than you have to. Tell the agents where you're going, because they're going to be following you too.

Stephen should be showing up any day now if he's coming.

Glenn said that you can stay with her for the next couple of days so I won't have to worry about you. You scared me yesterday ... really scared me."

Stefne pushed her coffee cup away and stood up to give him a hug. "I love you, Dad. I'm going to take your Jeep and run back to the apartment to get a few things. I'll see ya later."

Josh waited till she left before shifting his eyes to Bob.

"Keep an eye on her for me, will ya?"

Bob nodded in silence.

Dorba nodded at Qui. "Very well done. I believe we have gotten the desired point across. There will be a few who persist in trying to find us. Locate them and take action. Within a month we should have no problems."

Qui raised an eyebrow. "We still have the problem of this Stephen Kang. He has not showed up as of yet. The American, a man called Hawkins, attacked several members of our surveillance team, and the FBI arrested three other team members."

Dorba's look grew concerned. "Are you saying we have no eyes on him?"

Qui smiled. "No, San Chu. We have others. Now that we know the FBI is protecting him, I placed our best on him last night. It's almost humorous. They reported this morning that the FBI has a team in a room in the inn overlooking the small boat harbor. Our people have already identified the frequency they are using to monitor the conversations on his boat, so we can listen in. Our people no longer have to watch the American but just the FBI team. When they get ready to move in for Kang, we will move first. I am saying this to warn you we will have to take out this FBI team to get to Kang when the time comes. Are you certain you want this?"

Dorba leaned back in his chair and looked at the arrangement of flowers on the table. "They are beautiful, aren't they? Such delicate creations ... but their beauty only lasts for days. We enjoy them until they wilt, then replace them with others and think nothing of the dead. A shame." He nodded slowly to Qui. "Do whatever is necessary. I leave it in your hands."

Qui bowed. "I will take care of it. You have business now with the San from New York. It seems a lesson is needed there as well."

Dorba looked back at the flowers and sighed. "These Americans are so stubborn. Send him in."

Phone calls started coming through after noon. Stefne and Bob answered them all and checked the names against the shift list. Finally the last cop called in to say he was fine and would be back to work that night.

Stefne sighed in relief. "Thank God none of them were hurt. It would have been terrible to lose someone we know."

Bob lowered his head. "While you were on the phone the radio reported the casualties-there are at least 322 dead, with well over a hundred still in critical condition. And there are over eleven hundred people in hospitals throughout the city and surrounding counties."

Stefne's eyes narrowed. "I'd like to be there when they find the Iraqi bastards that did this. I'd-"

"You and 270 million other Americans," Bob said somberly.

Josh walked into the office and Bob held out a message.

"Boss, Kelly called for you fifteen minutes ago. He says he needs you to call him."

Josh did a double take as he read the number. "This is his office number. Damn his stubborn hide! He should be in the hospital."

Josh tried three times but kept getting a busy tone. He hung up just as the office door opened. He faced the man who entered and said, "I was just tryin' to call ya. What the hell are you doin' out of bed?"

With tears in his eyes, Kelly limped over and stiffly hugged Josh. "I ... I can't tell you ... Jesus, Hawk, thanks."

Josh patted his back affectionately. "How are Mary and the boys?"

Kelly backed away, wiping his eyes with his hand. "I just left 'em. They're still shook up but okay." He felt the questioning eyes of the others on him and turned around. "Didn't he tell ya?"

Josh quickly guided him to the door. "I'll tell them later.

Come on outside-we gotta talk."

"Tell us what? Kelly, tell us what's going on," Stef demanded.

Josh waved one hand at his daughter and said with finality, "Later." He walked his friend outside. "Everybody was upset enough last night, and I didn't want to add to it by explaining the attempt on Mary and the boys. Anything on the hitters?"

"Nothin'. The fuckers got Cummings's wife and two daughters and Alvarez's wife and son. Hanson's wife was hit but she's gonna make it. They tried on a couple of others but missed. It's bad news in the department. I had to get out of there for a while. The guys ain't gonna take this lyin' down."

He took a deep breath and winced. "Jesus, I can't get enough air."

Josh took his arm and led him to the unmarked cruiser.

"Go back to the hospital, Shamrock. You're not in any shape to be workin'."

Kelly leaned against the car and looked up at the overcast sky. "There's too much to do. The Feds are handling the bombings, but the precincts are working in the barricade and support role except for the crime scene and bomb boys, who are worlds' overtime with the Feds. My guys were told to start lookin' for these Islamic revolutionaries the press is talkin' about."

"You buyin' that Islamic Revolution shit, or are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" asked Josh.

"I ain't thinkin' ... 'cause they told us not to think. That threat letter that the commissioner sent to us? It's not posted on the bulletin board anymore. The word is to keep our mouths shut about it. The head shed says there is no connection and is going with the terrorist thing. I'm not thinkin', okay? But if I was I'd be asking, Why would terrorists hit the drug conference? Why not one of the military posts or the naval yard? That part of it doesn't make sense. The Metros were pure terror hits, but the conference? Naw, that was a signal. I'd say the big boy has laid out his rules-we fuck with his operation, he drops a bunch of fucking bombs. We play straight, he leaves the civilians alone."