Patient One (29 page)

They waited for several seconds in the dust-filled corridor, expecting return gunfire. None came.

“What do you think?” Geary whispered low.

“He’s waiting for us,” David whispered back. “And we can’t stay here much longer.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re in the open and he’s got hand grenades.”

“Oh, shit!” Geary groaned. He quickly signaled the other agents and yelled out, “Go!”

The group of five pushed themselves up and ran for the nurses’ station. They were almost there when the terrorists opened fire. Two agents crumpled to the floor. One was hit in the abdomen, the other in the head. More bullets whizzed by.

At the nurses’ station, David dove in head first. Another burst of gunfire caught a third agent in the shoulder. He rolled over to the elevators, clutching his bleeding wound.

David pressed up against the wall and hurriedly collected himself. Four of the enemy were dead, which meant there should be only Aliev remaining. But the return gunfire had been too intense for just one man. Maybe Aliev had another Chechen hidden away somewhere. David glanced over to the chairs at the front desk. Jarrin Smith was crouching down behind one of them, his hands still tied. But the Russian security agent was gone. Where the hell was he?

Geary called out to the wounded agent by the elevator, “Evans, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” Evans called back and tried to reload his weapon. But his right arm was useless.

“Can you get those elevator doors opened?” Geary asked, lowering his voice.

“I don’t think so, “Evans answered quietly. “It looks like they’ve got the doors jammed with metal spikes.”

“Try to pry them loose with the barrel of your weapon.”

Evans attempted the maneuver, but he had only one good hand and the weapon kept slipping.

Geary considered rolling across the corridor to assist Evans but quickly decided against it. He’d be a sitting duck and dead before he got halfway to the elevators. Geary turned to David and whispered, “That was a hell of a lot of gunfire for only one terrorist.”

“I had the same thought,” David whispered back. “Let’s make them show their hand so we can see how many they’ve got.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Watch.”

David reached over for a large medicine cart and shoved it with all his might. The cart sped across the corridor and crashed against the wall.

The terrorists blasted away, shredding the metal cart to pieces.

David waited for the barrage to stop. Then he carefully peeked out, using the corner of one eye. He saw the Russian security agent, Yudenko, standing half-exposed in a doorway.

“Get down!” David whispered loudly to him. “Get down!”

The agent brought up his Uzi and opened fire at David. Instinctively, David ducked low as a stream of bullets whizzed by him. The agent took out a fresh clip of ammunition but briefly fumbled with it. That extra moment gave David his chance. He squeezed off a short burst. The Russian agent clutched at his chest and staggered out of the doorway. A second blast ripped into him just above the bridge of his nose. He was dead before he hit the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” David growled, catching his breath and again pressing himself against a wall in the nurses’ station. “It was the Russian security agent! He was one of them!”

Geary nodded gravely. “And he must have been their inside man. We knew they had to have one to pull this off.”

And the bastard no doubt tipped off Aliev about the plan for Jarrin to contact the hospital operator, David seethed inwardly. “How the hell did they let a Chechen in their secret service?”

“Who knows?” Geary took a quick look into the corridor and came back. “I saw two bodies.”

“And I can guarantee you there are three others I know are dead.”

“Which leaves only Aliev.”

The Pavilion became quiet. There were no sounds at all, not even the noise of movement.

“Do you think he’s dead, or wounded?” Geary asked, keeping his voice down.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” David said, and concentrated his hearing. All he heard was the sound of his own breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

Slowly the air cleared as the dust settled. Seconds ticked by in the stillness. Then more seconds passed.

The silence was abruptly broken by the noise of a wheelchair being pushed into the corridor.

“If anyone comes close, I promise you I will shoot,” Aliev called out.

There was no response to his threat.

“I mean it,” Aliev said gruffly, now appearing beside the wheelchair. “Do as I say, or the old man dies!”

“It’s Sol!” Carolyn said, looking up from the wounded agent she was attending to in the corridor. “He’s got Sol!”

Aliev ignored her. “You will drop your weapons onto the floor.”

“Go screw yourself !” Geary called back.

Aliev aimed his Uzi at Simcha’s head. “Let us see how brave you are when his blood begins to spurt out.”

Carolyn resisted the powerful urge to go to the aid of the elderly patient who was slumped over in his wheelchair. “Please don’t hurt him!”

“If you want to help the old Jew,” Aliev said kindly, “you may do so. I won’t harm you.”

Carolyn hesitated, then slowly walked forward, her fear mounting. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered if Sol was already dead. He wasn’t moving.

“Don’t go, Carolyn!” David pleaded with her. “It’s a trap!”

She disregarded his warning, and walked on. Her fright was almost paralyzing now. She had to force herself to put one foot in front of the other. Finally she arrived at the wheelchair and checked Simcha’s pulse. It was thready and erratic.

“Sol?” Carolyn asked softly. “Can you hear me?

Aliev smiled thinly and nudged Carolyn with his Uzi. “Ah, an even better hostage now! So two will die if my instructions aren’t followed.”

Simcha raised his head to Carolyn and said weakly, “You are such a sweet girl.”

“Oh, Sol!” Carolyn moaned.

“Have a happy life,” he wished her.

Suddenly, Simcha felt strength coming into his arms. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for him to do what he wanted to do.
Nazi bastard!
Simcha thought, his anger spilling over.
Die with me!
He grabbed the barrel of Aliev’s Uzi and jerked it down toward the floor. “Run, Carolyn! Run!”

But before she could, Aliev pulled the weapon up and fired point-blank into Simcha’s chest, sending the old man and his wheelchair crashing down. Blood gushed from Simcha’s thorax and mouth. He coughed and choked, and more blood bubbled up. Then his head sagged and his lifeless eyes stayed wide open.

“No!” Carolyn screamed, horrified at the sight.

Aliev snatched Carolyn by the hair and dragged her across the corridor, using her as a human shield. She screamed again as he pulled her into the treatment room and slammed the door behind them.

Geary asked quickly, “Are there any exits from that room?”

“No, but he might try to blast an opening from the crawlspace to the roof with a grenade,” David said, desperately searching his mind for a way to rescue Carolyn. One wrong move, and Aliev would kill her. “Who do you have up on the roof ?”

“A helicopter pilot and a lookout.”

“You’d better warn them, and tell them Aliev has a hostage.”

“Will do.” Geary spoke into his microphone and passed on the information. Then he listened to a message coming in over his earphone. “Good work,” he said and came back to David. “We’ve got a sharpshooter up on the roof of an institute across from the hospital. He has a night-vision scope with a built-in infrared device.”

“He’d better be careful,” David cautioned. “If Aliev comes onto the roof, he’ll have the barrel of his Uzi jammed into Carolyn’s back. Even if your man gets off a head shot, Aliev could reflexively squeeze the trigger.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Geary argued mildly. “But this might well be her best chance to survive.”

“It’ll more likely be her death warrant,” David argued back.

A sudden noise came from the treatment room. It sounded like a metal tray hitting the floor and rattling around. Then quiet returned.

“Let’s face it,” Geary said somberly. “That nurse is already as good as dead.”

“I guess,” David muttered, knowing it was true but not wanting to accept it. He concentrated his mind, trying to think of ways to save Carolyn. To begin with, he’d need some sort of distraction. But what?

A nearly dead terrorist on the floor slowly reached for his Sig Sauer pistol and fired. Two bullets hissed by David’s head and struck the wall behind him, sending plaster flying.

Geary reflexively blasted away, killing the terrorist before he could get off another round. The dead terrorist slumped forward into a pool of bright red blood.

David froze in place, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it.
Jesus Christ! So close! Another inch down and the top of my head would have been gone, and Kit would have been without a father.
A gruesome picture suddenly flashed into David’s mind. He was in a casket, and Kit was walking toward him, crying, holding onto Juanita’s hand. David groaned inwardly and shook his head to dispel the image.

“You okay?” Geary asked.

“I’m fine,” David said, swallowing back his fear. He took a deep breath and waited for his pulse to slow. “I shot that bastard from a distance while we were running for the President’s room. I should have made sure he was dead.”

Geary nodded. “
Should have
s will get you killed in this business.”

They heard the door to the treatment room creak open. Both men raised their weapons.

Aliev yelled out, “Any more gunfire and the nurse dies!”

“Let her go!” David shouted. “Take me as your hostage instead.”

“Come in,” Aliev encouraged. “Unarmed, with your hands in the air.”

“No, David!” Carolyn cried. “Don’t do it!”

David put his Uzi aside and slowly got to his knees, wondering what his next move should be.

Geary grabbed David’s arm and pulled him back down. “Don’t be stupid! He’s using her for bait.”

David shrugged off the hold. “We can’t just leave her in there.”

“Then it should be me that goes in, not you,” Geary volunteered.

David shook his head. “He’ll kill you the second you step into the room. He’ll see your black outfit and night-vision goggles, and know you’re a commando. And that makes you very dangerous to him. He thinks I’m just another doctor. I’d just be another good hostage.”

Geary hesitated and carefully considered the plan. He didn’t like using a civilian on such a risky mission, even one with Special Forces training. “What if I’m unarmed when I walk in?”

“It won’t matter. He’ll still see you as a threat and kill you,” David said with certainty. “And keep in mind, the last thing we want to do is spook Aliev. He’s trigger-happy enough as is.”

Geary hesitated again before nodding. “If I hear any shots, I’m coming in after you.”

David took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Remember to shoot high.”

“And you remember to duck.”

David got to his feet and kicked his weapon toward Geary. He knew that Aliev would never let Carolyn go. Two hostages were a lot better than one. Slowly he moved to the treatment room, with no plan in mind. He would have to act on instinct. And that was a big disadvantage when facing an armed terrorist. David’s pulse began to race, but he willed it to stay steady.
Watch his head! It’s always the head that moves first.

David pushed the door open and entered the treatment room with his hands raised high. Carolyn was standing on the countertop, ready to climb up through an open panel into the crawlspace. And just beyond her feet was a cell phone, its screen lighted and blinking.

Aliev pointed his Uzi at David. “Stupid move, doctor! I saw you handle that weapon. I know you are not just a physician. Better I kill you now, no?”

David quickly looked for a weak spot but found none. Any sudden move and he’d be a dead man long before he got to Aliev. He tried desperately to come up with a maneuver to save his life, but his mind was a blur.
Think, goddamn it! Think!

“Well? Can you give me a reason why I should let you live?” Aliev asked. “You see, my plans will still work with only one hostage.”

David’s eyes went to Carolyn standing on the counter. Somehow he had to buy himself time to think. “Whatever your plans are, you’re going to have to change them.”

“Why?” Aliev demanded.

“Because you’re surrounded on all sides,” David said, keeping his voice even. “You have no place to go.”

Aliev made a scornful sound. “What makes you think I have to go anywhere?”

“You can’t stay here forever,” David said, trying to prolong the conversation and gain more time.

“Don’t be so sure,” Aliev told him and reached for his satellite phone, all the while keeping his eyes on David. He pressed the redial button and listened intently for a response. After a few moments, he grumbled to himself and placed the phone down. Then he came back to David. “So, doctor-who-pretends-to-be-a-soldier,” Aliev went on derisively, “can you give one good reason why I should allow you to live?”

David had no answer. He stared down the barrel of Aliev’s Uzi and readied himself to make a final, desperate move. He loosened his foot inside his loafer, planning to kick the leather shoe at Aliev and throw the terrorist off balance. Then go for his eyes before he can recover.
Yeah, right
, David thought grimly, knowing his chance of success was near nil. But he had to try. Ever so slowly he began to flex to knee, his pulse now skipping beats. “I-I guess I’m a dead man,” he said in an uneven voice.

“Not quite yet,” Aliev said, glancing briefly at the wall phone. “You will live a little longer, because I have found a temporary use for you. You will follow my instructions to the letter or you will no longer have a head above your neck.”

David quickly collected himself and shoved his foot back into his loafer, then asked, “What are these instructions?”

“When I say, you will go to the door and tell the Secret Service agent that I wish to speak with the pilot of an airplane that is en route to Los Angeles from Mexico. I will give you the pilot’s phone number shortly. The call is to be patched through to the telephone in this room. Understood?”