Smyth swerved around a slower car. “Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “How’s she doin’?”
“I can’t tell. We need to get her to that safe house.”
“Doin’ my best.”
With no pursuit and quiet roads the Suburban made good time. Once they entered the restricted area, using their SPEAR IDs, the roads truly opened up and Smyth soon powered down the street where their old safe house sat. Komodo called ahead, using an old CIA code that Kinimaka remembered, and forced a laugh.
“Looks like they sent everyone here. Place is gonna be crowded.”
“Never mind,” Kinimaka said. “So long as we can make her comfortable.”
Hayden’s eyes fluttered. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, but even that was better than it had been before. Kinimaka had done all he could for her, short of finding a surgeon and an ER. Contrary to popular TV, the bullet didn’t need to be removed straight away. To do that would only increase the blood flow.
What remained of their team climbed wearily out of the black Suburban, taking a second to bask in the rays of the rising sun, then positioned themselves to help extract Hayden from the car. It was a slow process and risky, but she couldn’t stay there. By the time they approached the door it was already open.
Lauren Fox greeted them, “Hey.”
Smyth made eyes at her. “Hey.”
“We cleared a room for her.”
Kinimaka moved slowly, taking every ounce of Hayden’s weight and trusting Komodo to protect the area around her wounds as best he could. They moved through a dimly lit room and paused.
“In here.” Kinimaka recognized the Russian thief, Yorgi, standing waving in a doorway. As he started to move again he saw Sarah Moxley sitting in a cloud of depression on one of the sofas.
“Sarah?”
The woman barely looked up, her thoughts still dwelling on the dreadful scene that had started this night off— the murder of Jonathan Gates.
Kinimaka moved on, addressing Lauren, “You three don’t seem like the likeliest of roommates.”
“I was staying here already.” She shrugged. “Bit of a long story, but let’s just say I ain’t exactly some five-star general’s flavor of the month. Jonathan was going to sort it all out.” She paused. “Shit.”
“What did you do?” Kinimaka squeezed his bulk through the bedroom doorway and carefully maneuvered Hayden between Komodo and himself.
“Not me, exactly. Nightshade. My alter ego. We needed information from General Stone but then Jonathan’s good conscience got in the way. By the time he pulled me out we think Stone had gotten wise.”
Smyth was following hot on her heels. “You’re a hooker aren’t you? We got a hooker on our team. That’s just fuckin awesome.” Then he sobered. “Poor Romero. He would have loved that.”
Lauren ignored him. “It’s an old story I guess now, involving General Stone. Not worth resurrecting again and again.”
Kinimaka placed Hayden on the bed and stared down at her with anguished eyes. He thought her breathing had grown even more ragged, but was that just his imagination? Komodo looked over the bed at Lauren.
“An old story, huh? You mean it’s last week’s news, don’t you? I’ve come to realize that’s how fast this team moves. But Lauren, a five-star general? That ain’t just gonna go away.”
“I know, man, I know. But I’ve been taking pretty good care of myself all these years. I can sure do it again.”
“You think just because you’re streetwise you can handle this man’s influence?”
Kinimaka tuned the conversation out, leaning over the bed, closer to Hayden. Damn, how they needed her expertise and leadership right now. The harsh breaths she took, lying down, told the story of how near death she was. His mind, usually so clear and concise, was in pieces right now. He knew he should be doing something, but couldn’t quite focus on it. Should Hayden’s welfare come first? The team’s? The civilians’? Or should they be trying to help Coburn? What would Kovalenko do next?
He sat on the bed, wincing as it creaked under his weight. Hayden’s eyes fluttered open.
“Mano?”
“I’m here. You’re safe. I’m going to use the tech in here to find a safe hospital and call an ambulance. They can’t follow us everywhere can they? How the hell do they keep on finding us?”
“The… the Grid,” Hayden whispered. “I figured… it has to be… it’s compromised—”
Her eyes closed again and she stopped talking. Kinimaka leaned in. “The what? The Grid?”
“It’s the only… way—”
Hayden’s words rattled like a last breath. Kinimaka pulled away, heart flipping, but saw her eyes wide open and staring. The life in them was vivid, the will to live dazzling. Quickly, he checked her dressings.
“You think the Grid’s compromised?”
Hayden gave a bare nod.
“But that means…”
Kinimaka stared around the bedroom and through the door at the other part of the safe house. All seemed well, but an icy sliver of dread slipped down his spine. In that single quiet moment he felt every hair on his body stand on end.
“Oh no.”
The safe house door exploded.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Drake pelted along the street, all thoughts of his own safety put aside, as the five-man terrorist team fell into disorder at the top of the Metro steps, right underneath the long metal and glass canopy that curved above the Foggy Bottom GWU Station. Some kind of internal battle was going on. One man tore away from the rest, ripped off his balaclava and started to shout.
“The President!” the team leader shouted. “Right there! That’s him!”
Drake took off like a missile, Dahl and Alicia at his heels. The rest of Team Bravo divided around them, spanning the street, and sprinted as if they were inches away from winning gold.
Which they were.
President Coburn wrenched himself away from the grip of a man and backed off. Another man ran at him, but Coburn punched him in the nose, stopping his advance with one blow.
Drake almost cheered.
The team leader screamed into the comms. “Send everyone! Coburn’s here! Send fuckin’ everyone!”
Drake raised his rifle. He breathed deeply, letting the habitual custom relax him. He ran at full speed, without compromising his skills, and felt the presence of Team Bravo all around. Ahead, the President swiped at another hooded figure, but this one stepped away and around the blow, showing practiced ability. The figure danced around behind the President and caught him around the throat, halting all his movements, then forced him roughly down the steps. The rest turned, firing a quick burst before following.
The team leader’s voice reflected his anger. “Hurry!”
Alicia was the first to fire back. Drake mentally kicked himself for not following suit. No one had shouted out a change of the original no-fire orders so he had just gone with it. Once a soldier…
But not Alicia. She had opened fire, probably hoping she took out Kovalenko and ended this whole clusterfuck. They hit the top of the steps just in time to see legs disappearing into the circular space of the station below, and started to leap down three or four at a time. The words Foggy Bottom — GWU Station shouted at him as he passed beneath a thick concrete roof. When Drake saw a rifle pointing up from the wide-open space below, he threw himself to the side, hitting the wall hard. A volley of shots passed among Team Bravo, striking no one, but slowing their pace.
Drake started down again, trying not to look at the shiny escalator sides. The team gained level ground, now standing in the surprisingly small entrance to the below-ground station. Ticket machines bordered the small space in a blue-and-silver half-circle. Yellow ‘Wet Floor’ cones lay scattered about. Through a wide opening Drake saw several barriers that led to the tracks and a couple of information-cum-guard stations. Large-scale maps dotted the walls amidst advertisements and electronic signs. The area was deserted apart from the five men they were pursuing, who even now were racing across the station at an angle to put as much distance as possible between them.