She knew whoever these people were, they didn’t really intend to make a switch—they were armed to the teeth, and they all wore bulletproof vests. She hoped Peter was wearing one, too.
“It’s time,” Steven said into a tiny microphone transmitter from above Barbara’s head, as he watched Wayne Grayson’s retreating back.
Grayson would not stay for the fireworks. “Are you in position?”
“Affirmative,” Paul answered from his post on the north side of the memorial.
“Ready,” Lorraine answered, from the south side.
“I have a visual,” Paul said. “Approaching the stairs.”
“Affirmative. How many?”
“Two.”
“Affirmative. You know what to do,” Steven said.
Peter brought Dr. Englert to a halt at the base of the second set of stairs. “I know you can see me,” Peter announced loudly. “I can see you, too,” he paused. “All three of you.” It was a gamble, Peter knew. If there were more than three, his bluff would be called. He felt it was a chance he had to take.
The Value of Valor
“In fact, I’ve got someone on each of you right now.” It never hurt to make them think you were bigger than you were, he decided. “I promise you, if you try to fire, you’ll be dead before you can finish squeezing the trigger.”
Next to him, Peter felt Englert shiver. He whispered, “Trust me, Doctor, I want you alive a lot more than they do.”
“Bring Dr. Englert up the stairs slowly,” Steven called.
“Show me Dr. Jones first.”
Steven pulled Barbara roughly to her feet and pushed her out from behind the statue.
“Unshackle her legs,” Peter ordered, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, as he pushed Englert slowly up the steps in front of him. They had reached the top of the second rise. Into his microphone, Peter muttered, “Now, Max.”
“Affirmative, I’m getting into position.”
“You give me Jones first. Then you get Englert,” Peter called.
“No dice. We release them at the same time, they walk across simultaneously.”
Peter had been afraid of that. Barbara and Englert alone in the middle of the floor made them sitting ducks. “We each uncuff them first.”
“Okay,” Steven agreed. Into his microphone, he said, “Lorraine, you take out Englert. I’ve got the good Dr. Jones. Paul, you’ve got Enright.
Don’t miss.”
“Affirmative.”
“Affirmative.”
“You focus on Englert. I’ve got Barbara,” Peter ordered Max quietly.
“Get him down, then get him out of here—we need him—we’ve got a president to revive and a plot to reveal. No looking back, got it? Your country needs you.”
“Yes, sir,” Max answered, plainly still reluctant to leave Peter so exposed.
“Max, don’t fail me now.”
“No, sir,” Max replied.
“Good. Get ready.” Peter shifted his weight to the balls of his feet.
“All right. Uncuff her,” Peter called, uncuffing Englert as he watched Steven do the same to Barbara.
“On the count of three,” Steven said. “One, two, three.”
Peter pushed Englert forward as he saw Barbara begin to walk in his direction. He could see the tears streaming down her battered face. His nostrils flared, but he gave no other outward indication of his rage. He readied one of the Glocks.
As the two captives reached the middle of the floor, Peter saw all three operatives raise their weapons. “Now, Max,” he hissed. Peter flew
Lynn Ames
forward, shooting the man who had held Barbara in the head before the man could pull the trigger. Peter was surprised to see a second bloom of red hit his target at virtually the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and realized that the second shot had come from the female operative.
Peter hurtled his body toward Barbara. A bullet ripped through his chest as he lunged desperately for her. He reached out despite the searing blast of pain and cradled Barbara in his arms. He dropped them both to the ground as she let out a frightened scream.
As Peter twisted his body, he saw as if in a dream, the female operative turn and fire at the man who had shot him.
On Peter’s order, Max charged forward and dove for Englert, throwing him to the ground. He was shocked when no shot came. He looked up in time to see the female operative aim and fire twice—once at the man next to the statue and a second time a moment later at the operative on the opposite side.
Seeing Peter go down, Max scrabbled toward him before he remembered his responsibility to keep Englert safe. “Boss!”
Lorraine ran toward Peter. Max raised his gun at her, then lowered it when she lowered her weapon.
“I’m with the Company,” Lorraine shouted. “I’m on your side. Get Englert out of here.”
Max reluctantly obeyed.
“You okay?” Lorraine asked Barbara, who was wedged underneath Peter.
Barbara nodded, too shocked and terrified to speak. Peter’s blood soaked her shirtfront.
Peter’s vision swam. He saw faces and shadows, as he labored to breathe. It felt as if a piano had been dropped on his chest. As the female operative rolled him off Barbara and onto his back, he noticed a blurred figure raise a gun from the shadows a short distance away.
Peter blinked to clear his vision, and for a second, the figure resolved itself into another man—not Max. He tried to warn the woman but couldn’t speak. He felt the weight of the Glock he still held loosely in his right hand, raised his arm with his last ounce of strength, and fired once.
Lorraine spun around to see the Viper collapse, a bullet in the center of his forehead. “Nice shot,” she breathed, her heart pounding wildly.
Peter, already unconscious, with blood dripping from his mouth, never heard her.
The Value of Valor
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
s the taxi pulled up to the Lincoln Memorial, Kate saw two men A running the opposite way. Without thinking, she took off running, pulling the gun from the back of her jeans as she went.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”
“Kate!” Jay screamed, still trying to extricate herself from the back of the cab.
The men stopped dead. The bigger of the two said, “Kate? Kate, it’s Max. It’s okay. Don’t shoot.” He was stunned. He knew Kate was supposed to be safely tucked away in New Zealand. Peter would be furious to know she was here.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Kate said, her voice shaking with tension as she approached the men.
Max groaned. “Kate, there’s no time. I swear to God it’s me. I don’t want to have to save your butt again. Peter will kill me.”
Kate laughed with relief. Kevin came running up alongside her. “It’s okay.” She put her hand on his arm. “He’s with us.”
“Anything you say, mate,” Kevin said, huffing.
Max dragged Englert over to where Kate and Kevin stood. Holding Englert by the collar, he used his other arm to hug Kate.
“God, it’s good to see you,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You too.”
“What’s happening?” Jay said as she halted next to Kate.
Max smiled at her. “I’ve got to get Dr. Englert out of here.” He looked directly at Kate, his eyes red and bloodshot. “It’s a bloodbath, Kate.”
Her heart flipped. “Peter? Barbara?”
Max inclined his head in the direction of the memorial.
Without another word, Kate took off running again.
“She’s going to be the death of me,” Kevin said, as he and Jay turned to follow her.
As Kate reached the top of the steps, her heart stopped. It was a hideous tableau, with bodies strewn everywhere. She watched in horror as a man emerged from the shadows, his gun pointed at a cluster of three people on the ground, one kneeling, two prone. She recognized the
Lynn Ames
emerging man as one of President Hyland’s Secret Service agents. She wondered if he was on their side, too. As she raised her own weapon, unsure what to do, she heard the cough of a silenced pistol, and watched the agent crumple to the ground.
The shot had come from one of the figures on the ground. Looking closer, Kate realized it was Peter. For a brief instant, she was frozen in place, her legs unable to carry her forward, her mouth working but no sound coming out.
Kevin reached her side, realizing right away that she was in shock.
“Don’t move,” he yelled to the woman kneeling over Peter, although he noted that she had no weapon in her hand.
Lorraine, who’d been about to see to Peter’s wound, froze.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked, shielding Jay behind him so she couldn’t see what was going on.
“Lorraine King, I’m on your side.” She hazarded a glance at the man holding the gun on her, gasping with surprise when she saw a woman she recognized as Katherine Kyle standing next to him, a gun held loosely in her fingers. She nodded at Kate. “You’re Katherine Kyle. Boy am I glad to see you. Dr. Jones could sure use a friend right now.” She tipped her head in the direction of the woman to the side of Peter. She was covered in blood and clearly in shock.
“What do you say, love?” Kevin murmured to Kate. “Is she the real deal?”
Kate, still stunned, was momentarily unable to respond.
Before anyone said another word, Jay broke free of Kevin’s restraining arm and ran forward. “Barbara,” she gasped, seeing her friend’s battered face and bloodstained shirt. She reached Barbara’s side, dropping to the floor next to her to cradle her head.
As soon as she did, Kate recovered, running forward herself.
Kevin shrugged, saying to no one in particular, “I guess she’s legit, eh?” He, too, joined the others.
“He’s hit bad,” Lorraine said grimly. “We’ve got to get help.” She noted the small entry wound in his chest and the more significant hole in his back where the bullet had exited.
“Here, let me see,” Kevin said, nudging her out of the way. As he examined the hole in Peter’s chest, his mind flashed back to a similar scene, only the victim then had been his brother. Kevin closed his eyes, swaying.
“Are you all right?” Lorraine asked.
Kevin opened his eyes again, shaking off the vision. “Yes, sorry about that.”
“We’ve got to get him to a hospital,” Kate said desperately.
The Value of Valor
“We can’t take him to a hospital—they’ll be looking for him,”
Lorraine said. “I know a place. It’s a private clinic the Company uses for its deep cover operatives. Best surgeons in medicine today.”
“How do we know it’s not part of the Commission’s network?” Jay asked.
“I’ve been undercover with the Commission for years. We can trust the people at this clinic. If we don’t move soon, he’ll die,” Lorraine said, feeling for Peter’s pulse. She reached inside her jacket and produced a cell phone, dialed a number, and spoke quietly into the mouthpiece. “A team is on the way,” she said, looking at the grim faces around her and putting her hands on Peter’s chest to help Kevin stem the steady flow of blood.
“Thank you,” Kate said, looking at her with anguished eyes. She held Peter’s head in her lap, stroking his hair, talking to him quietly. “I’m here, Technowiz. We all are. Please, you’ve got to stay with us. We need you.” Her vision clouded over with tears, her voice choked with emotion.
“President Hyland needs you.”
Lorraine’s head snapped up. “President Hyland is alive?”
Kate looked at her, surprised. “I thought you said you’ve been inside the Commission for years.”
“I did,” she said, her mind mulling over this new development, “but they keep everything compartmentalized—information is on a need-to-know basis. I was tasked with coming after you,” she nodded at Kate. “I was never told anything about the president.”
The sound of screeching tires pierced the air.
“Thank God,” Kate murmured. “Hang in there, Peter. Don’t you dare go anywhere on me, you hear?”
Barbara, who had been staring straight ahead, was roused by the loud noise. Jay looked down at her as she started to sit up.
“Hi there,” Jay said, smiling through tears. “Welcome back.”
“Jay,” she whispered, reaching her fingers out to touch Jay’s cheek.
“Peter hinted…” The mention of Peter’s name brought everything back with stunning clarity. “Oh, my God.” She shrugged Jay off, crawling forward on her knees to reach Peter’s side. She knelt next to Kevin, putting expert fingers on Peter’s carotid artery. “Pulse is extremely weak.”
“Welcome, Doctor,” Lorraine said, smiling across Peter’s body at Barbara. “Glad to have you on board.”
Barbara nodded at her, as she listened to his labored breathing.
Four men in plain black jackets ran up the steps carrying a gurney and paramedic bags. Barbara, now fully functioning and in command, called out information. “I’m Dr. Barbara Jones. Patient presents with a gunshot wound to the left chest; significant, but not heavy blood loss; weak pulse
Lynn Ames
and respiration. I suspect a left pneumothorax and possible deviated trachea to the right.”
“Are you all right, ma’am?” one of the paramedics asked, taking in Barbara’s bloody appearance, swollen eyes, and bruised face.
“I’m fine. Concentrate on him.” Barbara didn’t want to think about her own injuries at the moment.
Within seconds, Peter was loaded onto the gurney, as the lead paramedic inserted a large bore needle into his chest between the second and third ribs on the left side. There was an audible hiss. “Respirations are moderately improved,” he called.
“Intubate him,” Barbara ordered, as a second paramedic inserted a tube in Peter’s mouth and down his trachea. A third started the oxygen that would be attached to the tube, while the fourth paramedic belted Peter onto the gurney. Together two of them lifted the stretcher, hustling it down the stairs as the others ran alongside.
Jay was terrified by all the medical jargon and procedures. “Is he going to be all right?” she asked Barbara.
“I hope so, honey.” Barbara endeavored to explain. “All indications are that he’s got a collapsed lung. He was having a lot of difficulty breathing—that’s what the tube is for. The needle was to relieve pressure in his chest cavity caused by blood and air seeping in through the wound.
That’s probably a lot more information than you wanted, but sometimes I think it’s better to know than not to know.”