Ignoring the danger, she ran back to the flaming truck, yanked open the passenger seat door, unharnessed Ben, and pulled him free. She lifted the tall man over her shoulder and fast-walked him away from the truck before laying him next to his brother.
Next, she crouched, pulled her gun, and looked around. Whatever had hit them must still be out there. She wiped away blood from the side of her face and with her free hand she called 911 and requested assistance, giving her location as specifically as she could.
She looked at her watch. It was nearly ten o’clock. She had no idea how long it would take for the local cops to show.
The explosion lit the night, and Pine ducked down as debris from the Ford sailed through the air. Parts of the truck crashed down all around them.
Ed Priest suddenly cried out.
She scuttled over to him and saw a piece of metal sticking out of his upper arm.
It was a part of the trim from the Explorer. It had pierced his skin like a fired arrow and the wound was bleeding heavily.
She took off her jacket and wrapped it tightly around the wound. She didn’t attempt to take out the piece of metal. That might cause a gusher of blood if it had grazed an artery.
“Help’s coming,” she said.
He nodded and lay back on the ground, groaning.
And then Pine saw the headlights.
Not from the ground.
But in the air.
The chopper swiftly shed altitude, its searchlight delicately probing the ground like a snake’s tongue before coming to rest first on Pine and Ed. Then it found the still unconscious Ben Priest and held there.
It landed barely fifty feet away, its prop wash pummeling them and providing more oxygen to the burning truck, fanning the flames and smoke all over the road.
Another mini explosion occurred, causing Pine to momentarily duck before returning her attention to the chopper. She studied its silhouette and its blade configuration.
“What’s happening?” groaned Ed.
“Just keep still and quiet,” she whispered back, her gaze steady on the chopper.
Pine reached into a small compartment attached to her shoulder holster and pulled out her laser sight. She clipped it to the top of her gun’s Pic rail and lined up her shot on the aircraft’s main prop assembly.
And then her target changed as the chopper doors on the left opened and two figures in body armor and combat helmets climbed out. Both carried M16s, with laser sights. These guys were ready for war.
Seeing this, Pine lowered herself to the ground, spread-eagled, making her target silhouette as small as possible. But she knew this was no longer a fight on equal terms, if it ever was.
Her Glock and backup Beretta had no chance against a weapon that was designed for max firepower and resulting death on a battlefield. A torso or head shot from a combat weapon was pretty much not survivable. It didn’t wound; it made organs disappear.
She decided she might as well give it a shot. She called out, “FBI. Identify yourselves or I will open fire.”
Neither of them made any indication that identification would be forthcoming.
Instead, one of them threw something toward her.
She put her head down and told herself it would be over in a second. No pain. Just... nothing.
Another part of Pine kissed her ass good-bye.
Still another part of her cursed that she was going to die without even knowing why.
The thrown object hit the ground. There was a flash of light and an explosion.
And once more Atlee Pine’s world went dark.
Chapter 22
“Special Agent Pine?”
Pine drew in a long breath and an antiseptic odor filled her nostrils.
She wondered if Heaven was super clean.
She doubted Hell would bother.
“Special Agent Pine?”
Her eyelids fluttered open and then closed.
Then they opened again and remained that way.
Carol Blum was staring anxiously down at her.
The older woman breathed a sigh of relief as her boss’s gaze fixed and then held on her.
Pine rocked her head from side to side and saw that she was lying on a gurney.
“Where am I?”
“Emergency room.”
Pine touched her forehead. There was a gauze bandage wrapped around her head. “How did I get here?”
“Ambulance.”
“What about the others?”
“Others?”
Pine tried to sit up, but Blum put a hand on her shoulder and gently nudged her back down.
“I was with two men,” said Pine.
“I don’t know anything about that. I got a call that you had been in an accident and had been brought here.”
“Who called you?”
“The hospital.”
“Why would they call you?”
“They actually called the office. They must have seen your badge. I got the message from there. I called them back and then drove straight here.”
“I phoned the cops about a situation. We were hit from behind. Someone tried to kill us.”
Blum shook her head. “Again, no one told me anything about that.”
At that moment, a doctor in a white coat and light blue scrubs came in with an iPad in hand. He was in his late forties with thinning hair and a calm, almost bored look.
“How are we doing, ma’am?” he asked in a cheery tone.
“I’m fine,” said Pine. “What about the two people with me? They were injured, too. One of them badly.”
The doctor’s casual demeanor evaporated. “Other people? There were no other people. You’ve had a concussion. I don’t believe you’re thinking clearly.”
“I’m thinking very clearly,” said Pine. “There were two men in the vehicle with me.”
He shook his head. “Look, I’m the only doctor on duty in the emergency room. One ambulance came in last night. With you. Automobile accident. You ran off the road and were injured.”
“And who told you that?”
“The ambulance crew.”
“How about the cops?”
“I haven’t seen any cops.”
“Shit.” Pine sat up and pushed off efforts by the doctor to stop her. “Where are my clothes. And my guns?”
“In a secure locker,” said the doctor.
“Get them. I need to get out of here.”
“We’re keeping you for observation.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m the doctor here and I’m telling you—”
Pine swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet hit the floor, and she pulled off whatever medical devices were attached to her.
“I’m an FBI agent. And I’m telling you to get my stuff, or I’m going to arrest you for interfering with a federal officer.”
The doctor looked at Blum as Pine stood there in a flimsy hospital gown. Even in her bare feet she towered over him. And the look on her face, with the bloody bandage wrapped around her head, was of a woman who was not to be denied.
The doctor said to Blum, “Is she serious?”
“Well, I’ve never known her not to be. So, it’s a safe bet that you’re going to jail if you don’t do as she says, which I highly recommend that you do.”
Twenty minutes later, Pine, fully clothed and gunned up, was striding out of the hospital with Blum next to her.
The sun was just starting to rise.
“How did you get the message from the office?” asked Pine.
“I didn’t until I checked the line early this morning.”
“How early do you check it?”
“Four o’clock every morning. Just in case. I wish I had checked it before.”
“There were two men,” said Pine as she took off the head bandage and dropped it into a trash can. “We were intentionally run off the road, and then a chopper landed. There were two guys in body armor with combat weapons. One of them threw a flashbang or concussion grenade and knocked me out. I’d already been hurt in the crash, so that accounts for what happened.” She looked at the sky, checking the status of the rising sun. Her watch had been damaged in the crash and her phone had run out of juice. “I must’ve been out for about eight hours.”