“Has he talked?” Alex asked. “The security guard, I mean.”
“The FBI has taken over that line of inquiry,” Martin said bitterly. “But his prints were run through the system and came back with zip.”
“Sir, that guy is no rookie. I can’t believe this is his first op,” Alex said.
Martin said, “Agreed, but I guess he never got caught before.”
Alex then asked the question he’d been dreading. “How many are dead, sir?”
Martin looked at him strangely. “Counting the dedication grounds and what happened in town, twenty-one terrorists were killed.”
“I mean what about our guys?”
Martin glanced around the room at the other men and women there. “This is not public knowledge, and it won’t be until we can figure out what the hell’s going on.” He paused. “We had no casualties.”
Alex jumped up and looked at the man. “What the hell are you talking about? Guys were dropping all over the place. I was there. I saw them, damn it. Is this some kind of bullshit political spin? Because if it is, it stinks!”
“Just hold on, Ford,” Martin said. “I know you’re on heavy meds for the pain, but you don’t talk to me that way, son.”
Alex took a deep breath and sat back down. “Sir, we had casualties.”
“Our guys were shot, over twenty-five of them, plus about fifteen uniforms. And Dr. Bellamy.” Martin paused. “But they were shot with tranquilizer darts. They’ve all recovered. That’s why the shooters were able to get their weapons through the magnetometers. The guns and darts were made of composite materials with no metal.” He paused and then said, “None of what I’m telling you leaves this room.”
All the agents in the room looked at one another. Alex said slowly, “Tranquilizer guns? They weren’t firing tranquilizer darts at the hospital. Those were real bullets.”
“The snipers fired darts into the two other agents we found there. Then they held off the reinforcements with real ammo. However, despite having the high ground and one of the best sniper rifles on the market, they didn’t hit one damn person with live ammo. Eyewitnesses said the snipers only shot in the vicinity of our guys. They put up walls of fire in front of the hospital to keep our people away. That seems clear now. They apparently never took a kill shot, although our guys said there were plenty of opportunities for them to do so. I don’t claim to understand it, but those are the facts right now.”
Alex touched his wounded arm. “They used live ammo on me.”
“Congratulations, you were the only one. I guess they didn’t anticipate you being able to get into the hospital and mess up their plans.”
“I obviously didn’t mess them up enough.”
Martin eyed him closely. “You did as much as any agent could’ve.”
Alex didn’t acknowledge this compliment.
Martin continued. “The plan obviously was to funnel the president to the hospital without his normal security contingent. They knew our procedures and methodology well, and used them against us. We think the fact they didn’t harm any of the security forces may bode well for the president. They could have killed him easily.”
“So they’ll hold him for ransom, and not just money,” another agent said.
“That’s the probable scenario,” Martin conceded. “God only knows what they’re going to ask for.”
“But why go to all the trouble of not killing us, sir?” Alex asked in exasperation. “I mean that’s what these guys do, they kill. Look at 9/11, the USS Cole, Grand Central. And they were slaughtered in the process. It makes no sense.”
“Agreed, it makes no sense. We seem to be in new territory here.” Martin picked up a remote and pointed it at a large-screen plasma TV hanging from the wall. “We just got this video feed in. I want everyone to sit here and watch this thing. Anybody sees something that strikes ’em funny, sound off.”
The TV came to life, and Alex watched as the horrific events at Brennan unfolded.
They viewed it three times, and while a few agents had some comments, nothing jumped out at them. It was clear that the terrorists had been very organized and very disciplined.
“They took the ambulance out and Dr. Bellamy too so we’d have to take the president directly to the hospital for treatment,” Martin said. “Then they used a tractor-trailer and a downed water tower to block off reinforcements. Pretty damn clever. Lucky we weren’t facing these guys when Reagan got shot. He got to the hospital with a handful of guys. Somebody waiting there would’ve had a pretty easy target. Which means we’re going to have to change how we do things from now on.”
“But the president was looking ill,” Alex said. “I remember seeing him grab at his chest. When we got to the hospital, he told me he was dying. I checked his pulse. It seemed okay but I’m no doctor.”
“The hospital staff said a doctor at the hospital injected him with something and he went unconscious,” Martin added.
“They couldn’t just count on him becoming ill and going to Mercy Hospital,” Alex said. “They had to make that happen at the ceremony.”
“Right, but we don’t know how they did it.”
Another agent spoke up. “Maybe he was hit with a dart that made him sick.”
“That’s possible. And the dart guns don’t make a lot of noise, but no one saw a gun until the first volley of fire took place. We’ve gone over that film a hundred times. At no time does the president flinch or otherwise show that he’s been shot with anything. Even with a dart gun you’re going to have a physical reaction upon impact.”
At that moment Jerry Sykes came in holding a paper. “This just in, sir.”
Martin read it and then looked up at his crew. “The hospital in Brennan has reported five people who came to the hospital complaining of respiratory problems and heart attack symptoms. They sent us a rundown of the people’s descriptions and other details. They’re all being treated, but tests show there’s nothing wrong with them.”
“Some sort of biological agent might’ve been released in the air,” Sykes suggested.
“And only hit the president and a few others? That’s a mighty ineffective agent,” Martin said skeptically.
Alex’s gaze was on the TV screen. “Were the five people who went to the hospital a National Guardsman, two older men, a young woman and an elderly woman?”
Martin looked up from the file. “How in the hell did you know that?”
In response, Alex pointed to the screen. “Back up and run that sequence in slow motion.”
They all watched as Brennan started shaking hands along the rope line.
“Okay, stop right there,” Alex cried out.
Martin froze the playback.
“Look at the man’s hand,” Alex said, pointing to the National Guardsman’s prosthetic device.
“It’s a fake hand, Ford,” Sykes said. “A couple of the agents on the line noticed it.”
“Right, I saw him too,” Alex said. “He shakes with his right hand, which is artificial. And you’ll see Brennan shaking five more hands before he went down. Now roll the tape.”
The National Guardsman saluted the president.
“Stop it right there,” Alex said. “See, he saluted with his left hand. Or left hook. One hand and one hook?”
“So maybe he’s waiting to get the other one done,” Martin said impatiently.
“But why shake with your right and salute with your left?”
Sykes said, “I’m left-handed, but most people are right-handed. So I always shake with my right, but I sometimes salute with my left. So what?”
Martin said, “Okay, anybody else see anything?”
Alex kept studying the hand. “Can you zoom in on the guy’s hand?”