Tumbledown (38 page)

“I need his cell,” she said, approaching Leah tentatively.

That the gunshots hadn’t prompted the SWAT team to launch an assault suggested someone had heeded her warning about the door. The sooner the FBI were given the all-clear, the sooner they could get an explosives expert into the building to defuse whatever Deakin had rigged, and get them all out of there.

“It’s in his pocket.” Leah pointed to Caleb’s jacket but didn’t attempt to retrieve the phone.

“Right.”

Alex crouched by him, acutely aware that she was placing herself in the line of fire. She jumped as something skittered toward her and stopped at her leg.

“Tie him up,” Leah whispered. “Please tie him up.”

The anguish in her voice set Alex on edge, even though it was clear that Deakin no longer posed a threat. He was unconscious, his abdomen distended with internal bleeding, and he didn’t react as Alex picked up the length of rope Leah had thrown, bound him with it, and then patted him down for concealed weapons.

“Where’s Sarah?” she snapped, dialing Castillo’s number.

“In the other room.” Without needing to be told, Leah threw down her gun and retreated to huddle against the far wall. Alex tucked the weapon into her belt; she trusted Leah enough not to restrain her, but it felt better to be armed.

“Mike, it’s me,” she said, as soon as Castillo answered. She grabbed a flashlight and ran toward the gap in the wall.

“Alex? Jesus, fuck. Are you all right?”

“Fine, I’m fine.” The temperature dropped noticeably when Alex stepped through into the next room, but it was fear, not cold that made her shiver as she moved the flashlight beam in a wide arc. She tried unsuccessfully to control the tremor in her voice. “Leah shot Deakin and he’s bleeding out. He wired the door, so SWAT will have to use the window.”

A metal chain glittered in the light. At first, she couldn’t really work out what she was looking at. When she did, she almost lost her grip on the phone.

“Oh God.”

“Alex?”

“Get the medics in here.” She could hardly speak, but still it felt like she was screaming. “Please, Mike, we need them in here.” Ignoring his attempt to keep her on the line, she disconnected the call. “Sarah?” she said, too scared to move any closer. “
Sarah?
”

The metal chain lifted slightly, as Sarah raised and then waggled the fingers on her right hand.

“Fucking hell.” Alex gave a short laugh of disbelief; Sarah had just waved at her.

“Hey.” Sarah hardly made a sound, but it was enough to bring Alex to her side.

“Hey, yourself,” Alex said, her resolute facade shattering as Sarah began to cry. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Maybe if she said it enough times it would be true.

Her fingers fumbled with the knot holding the blindfold in place. She rocked back on her heels, unable to loosen the tie. “God damn it,” she whispered. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, Sarah was so pale her face looked ghastly in the light, and Alex couldn’t get a simple fucking knot unfastened.

“Use this.”

The quiet instruction made Alex’s head snap up. She hadn’t heard Leah enter the room. She took the knife and nodded her thanks as Leah placed a first aid kit and blanket within easy reach.

“I’ll get her some water,” Leah said, leaving them alone again.

Alex stroked a finger down Sarah’s cheek, murmuring softly to calm her. What Sarah had survived during the last twenty-four hours must have been traumatic enough, but for Deakin to have bound her eyes seemed beyond cruel. She would have had no way of knowing who had survived the gunshots until Alex spoke to her. Now, as if still uncertain, her hand reached out, fumbling for Alex’s and then holding it clumsily.

“Are you…” She had to stop to take a breath, obviously distressed by her own weakness. “You hurt?”

“No,” Alex said, and smiled at Sarah’s immediate frown. “Not much,” she allowed. She touched the blindfold, drawing Sarah’s attention to it. “I need to cut this. Stay real still for me.”

“Okay.”

The knife made quick work of the cloth. Alex shielded Sarah’s eyes as it came away. “Keep them closed for now. You can check me for bruises in a few minutes.”

Despite everything, Sarah managed to arch an eyebrow.

Alex chuckled. “I know you too well.”

“I know you tell fibs,” Sarah countered, but her attempt at levity was ruined as she began to shiver violently.

Alex had never felt so useless. There was no way she could lift Sarah off the cold concrete without hurting her; she could only tuck the blanket around her and hope that would make her more comfortable. Desperate to keep doing something, she picked up the first aid kit, whose lid jammed as she tried to remove it. Snarling beneath her breath, she wrestled it off, to find two small bandages, gauze, scissors, and half a pack of Advil. The sheer inadequacy of the contents made her want to launch the box across the room, but she hesitated as Leah ran back in.

“They’re coming through the window: medics and bomb disposal. They said to tell you five minutes.” Relief seemed to have taken years off Leah’s face; she moved purposefully, unwrapping a piece of gauze and soaking it in water. “Her mouth is so dry, but this helps,” she said. She put the gauze in Alex’s hand and nodded encouragement as Alex carefully bathed Sarah’s lips.

“That better?” Alex asked Sarah. She used more water, squeezing a few drops onto Sarah’s tongue, making her smile and open her eyes. It took a moment for her to focus on Alex’s face, but when she did, her smile broadened.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

*

For two minutes, Sarah had done little else but study Alex. She had relearned the curve of her lips and the color of her eyes and the way the splash of freckles fell across her nose. Cuts and bruises stood out brutally against her pale skin and stress had left her face haggard, but Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off her.

High above the next room, voices were calling urgently to one another, the commotion rising and falling amid a series of bangs and cracks, but no one seemed to have made it to ground level yet. Sarah simply held Alex’s hand while she had the chance and let everything else fade into the background.

“I guess that was you who threw the javelin, then?” Alex’s voice seemed to come from a long way away. Her fingers stroked through the sticky strands of Sarah’s hair.

“Mmhm.” Sarah had to force her eyes open. Judging by Alex’s expression, Sarah had just scared the wits out of her by drifting off. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Tired.”

“I know you are,” Alex said. “Just try to talk to me or something.”

“’Bout what?”

“Anything. Tell me about your day.”

It was a suggestion ridiculous enough to make Sarah smile. “Bit crap, if I’m being honest with you,” she said. Alex’s laugh gave her the impetus to continue; she tried to concentrate on the original question. “Thought I could get up.” She gestured vaguely toward the dividing wall. “Bash Deakin with the metal. Didn’t make it very far.”

“Why, where were you?” Alex shone the flashlight around as Sarah pointed to the pipe. “Jesus, you got far enough.”

“Just had to chuck the bloody thing in the end.” Sarah shook her head, thinking of that last, somewhat delirious decision. “Half expected it to bounce back off the wall and clock me on the nose.”

Alex bent to kiss her forehead. “You saved the day.”

“I did?”

“Made sparks fly and everything. You were brilliant.”

“Don’t feel too brilliant,” Sarah muttered. Her vision seemed to be failing, even though she was sure her eyes were still open.

“Sarah, stay awake. Please stay awake.” There was sudden panic in Alex’s entreaty. Sarah felt her shift as if turning away, and seconds later heard her start yelling for someone to come and help them.

Strangers shouted back, then Leah’s voice, tense and insistent. “In here, they’re in here.”

Heavy footsteps were followed by the slam of equipment hitting the concrete.

“Can you give me some space here, ma’am?” a man’s voice said.

Sarah didn’t catch Alex’s response, but the grip around her hand tightened and Alex didn’t move an inch.

The sounds and sensations were disturbingly familiar to Sarah: pain breaking through despite the drugs, a thin supply of oxygen that made her nose cold, footsteps and the murmur of voices behind a closed door. An unnatural flushed feeling in her cheeks told her she was running a fever, and every time she breathed she could feel the answering vibration of something cumbersome affixed to her broken leg.

In the ICU after her car accident, she had often woken up alone, terrified and hurting, her buzzer summoning an ever-changing parade of strangers. She wasn’t alone now; a warm hand was wrapped around hers, its fingers tightening in response to the first signs of her regaining consciousness.

“Sarah?” Alex kept her voice low. “You awake in there?”

Sarah worked her tongue around her mouth, searching in vain for moisture. Instead of a coherent answer, she managed only a pathetic-sounding moan. She sensed Alex move, then seconds later the touch of chilled metal and liquid against her lips. The skin there, abraded by the gag Deakin had used, tore and bled as she opened her mouth, but the relief from the ice was more than worth that irritation.

“You gonna open your eyes for me?” Alex asked. Her breath whispered across Sarah’s cheek and her lips touched just below Sarah’s left eye. “This one, at least. I’m not sure the other side will cooperate.”

It didn’t. The swelling kept it firmly closed, but by tilting her head, Sarah was able to see the smile that brightened Alex’s face.

“Hi.” Afraid to make anything worse by moving, she lay still and took advantage of the improved lighting to check Alex for injuries. She lifted a cautious hand to trace the sutures closing a gash through Alex’s eyebrow. “Ouch,” she said. “Think you’re going to have a new scar there.”

“Yeah.” Alex guided her hand back to the bed. “Will it look rakish? I don’t mind if it’ll look rakish.”

Even though Sarah felt sick and too hot and uncomfortable just about everywhere, the silly grin Alex gave her was enough to make her smile. “Very dashing,” she confirmed. “It’ll go beautifully with the one on your forehead.”

Alex’s expression sobered at that reminder. They would both bear the scars from two generations of the Deakin family. “I think yours might outdo mine,” she said.

“Mm, probably.” With both arms snared up by IV tubing, Sarah couldn’t do much for herself, and her attempts to investigate her own wounds were largely unsuccessful. Frustrated, she forgot all about keeping still and thumped her head back on the pillow. “What the hell have they got clamped onto my leg?”

Alex lifted the sheets, despite her obvious reluctance, and Sarah squinted at the convoluted contraption.

“Damn, those were two of the only bones I didn’t have metal in,” she said. Bracing herself, she wiggled her toes, just to be sure that she could. In all honesty, she was surprised to find she still had toes there to wiggle, and the look on Alex’s face suggested she had shared the same fears. It would be a long time before Sarah could start jogging again, but the outcome could certainly have been worse.

She closed her good eye as a chill ran through her. Then she snapped it open again, acutely afraid of the dark. “Is he dead?” she said.

“No. He coded in the warehouse, but they brought him here for surgery and transferred him out to UMass Memorial for specialist care as soon as he was stable enough.”

Sarah couldn’t cope with thinking through the ramifications of that right then. “Leah?” she asked instead.

“She’s fine. The baby’s fine. Castillo left to interview her a few hours ago.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She bit nervously at the tattered skin on her bottom lip. “And you’re really okay, aren’t you? I heard shots and I didn’t know…I couldn’t see anything.” Her words tumbled over each other, out of synch with her efforts to breathe.

“I know, sweetheart. I really am okay, honest.” Alex cast a glance at the monitor as its figures flashed red.

“I heard two shots,” Sarah insisted. Two shots that had set her ears ringing, and then Leah’s voice, not Alex’s. “What happened?”

Alex sighed. “I was wearing a vest. The bullet broke three of my ribs.”

“Jesus bloody Christ.”

“Yeah.” Alex left her chair and sat carefully on the side of the bed. She placed her hand over Sarah’s heart, her firm touch reassuring them both. “Jesus bloody Christ.” Her brow furrowed as she closed her eyes.

It took Sarah a moment to figure out what she was doing. “Are you counting?”

“Might be.” Alex used the monitor to confirm her calculation. “Your pulse is a bit quick. I think you’re due a shot of morphine.”

Sarah shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want to go back to sleep,” she said, and then, knowing Alex would understand better than anyone, “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“What if I wake you as soon as you get twitchy?”

A yawn caught Sarah unawares. “You never told me I get twitchy,” she mumbled.

“Where’d you think all those bruises on my legs come from?”

“Thought you were just a clumsy bugger.” She heard Alex chuckle and she covered the hand still resting on her chest with her own fingers.

“That’s good,” Alex told her, apparently back to counting. “Much slower.”

For a minute, it was so quiet in the room that Sarah could hear drops of blood falling into her transfusion. She closed her eyes but still couldn’t rest.

“Alex?”

“What?”

“Will you leave the lights on?”

“Of course I will, and I’m staying right here,” Alex said, the absolute certainty of her reply giving Sarah the assurance she craved. “I promise I won’t let you wake up in the dark.”

*

The peppermint tea was sweet, with an unusual taste that lingered after every sip. Honey, Leah realized belatedly; someone had put a spoonful of honey in it for her. She cradled the mug with both hands, the heat turning her fingers pink and plump, healthy-looking. The doctor who had examined her the previous night had warned her that she was too thin, that her baby was small for sixteen weeks. She had made polite noises of acquiescence, but it had been hard to listen to his dietary advice as she gazed at the tiny but perfect form on the ultrasound screen. The FBI agent at her side had obviously paid attention, though, because breakfast that morning had been the best meal she had eaten in months. Earlier, that same agent had come down to her cell and woken her from a deep, dreamless sleep, and when he told her the time she had been astounded by how late it was; she had expected them to come for her after only an hour or two, but instead they had allowed her to sleep through the night.