Chapter Five
Candy stood in her office with Tumbel’s three men. Her mean, angry side was ready to show them who was boss: She was. But the gunshots halted her. The men stiffened, looked at one another, and bolted for the door. Were they seriously going to run into enemy fire without having a plan?
“Stop!” To her surprise, the men obeyed. “Leaving this room without having a clue about what is going on will get you killed. You all know that as trained paramilitary. Now get your asses back in here.” Of course, the guys deferred to their boss, waiting for his say.
“Fuck, she’s right,” he said. “You can’t rescue your mates if you’re dead as soon as you walk through the door.”
While he argued with his team, she dialed the security room. It picked up on the first ring. “Dotson, shut down all elevators and lock exterior doors, except the main entrance.”
“Already done, Sergeant,” Dotson responded.
“Good. What do we have?” she asked while she brought up the security camera footage on her laptop. “Tumbel, come here. This is no prank.”
Dotson responded, “Looks like four armed men entered through the catering staging area. They shot into the air. Nobody is hurt, as far as I can tell.”
“What about our perimeter guys?” she asked. Suddenly, she was very scared for her men. A good plan of attack usually involved taking down the outer defense first, then infiltration.
“They seem fine,” he said. “No, their uniforms. They are different. Wait.” Candy locked onto the in-house wireless cable signal. She saw the same images Dotson did in security. The masked men in the lobby were collecting cell phones.
Suddenly, a tall man put the tip of his automatic rifle to a man’s head. Candy didn’t breathe. Please, no deaths. The bad guy reached into the man’s coat and pulled out a hand gun. A shot lightly echoed from a distance and the man crumbled to the ground. Those around the fallen man scuttled away. The masked guy looked around, saying something. Dammit. She didn’t have audio on this remote site.
She snatched up the phone. “Dotson, what is he saying?”
“He said if anyone else has a gun, they need to put it on the ground or he’ll shoot them when he finds it on them.”
“This is a federal building,” Candy said. “It’s illegal to carry firearms into this facility. No one else should have one, according to the guest list.”
“What about the guy who did have a gun, then? Why did security let him through?” Dotson asked.
“He was an agent with another department, cleared to carry a concealed weapon,” she said. She knew the agent by sight, but never talked with him. Then a thought hit her. “How could he know who’s carrying, anyway?”
“Shit,” Tumbel said. “When I came in the front doors, I saw one of the caterers—who I thought was a caterer—standing close by, watching. He would’ve seen everyone who came through the metal detector.”
Candy turned to him. “Can you pick him out?”
“Not in these images. They are too fuzzy and far away,” he said.
“Ma’am,” Dotson cut in, “another thing, he has a thick accent. Somewhat hard to understand.” A clue. Their bad guys were from another country where English wasn’t the main language.
“Do you know what language it could be, Dotson?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I don’t,” he replied.
“That’s fine.” She didn’t expect him to know but thought she’d ask anyway.
“Ma’am, look at the lower right exterior camera.” Wide views of the outside of the building showed men standing guard. Dotson zoomed in the camera’s focus on the bushes alongside the building. There was something there, but she couldn’t tell what.
Then she recognized the face of one of the guards. He lay in the shrubs, his body sprawled out like he had been thrown carelessly. She felt positive the three other guards were in similar conditions. Candy swallowed the shot of pain coursing through her. In war, there were casualties. And now she had a clear goal: Take down the bastards who’d killed her guys. No jail sentences, but fast execution.
“I see it, Dotson,” she whispered on the phone.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice wavering.
“Hey,” Josh leaned against her, “what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Candy held a finger up telling him to wait a minute. With Josh closer to her, she had to hold herself together. There was no time to get emotional. Now she had to think and strategize on what to do. “Dotson, stay put. Do not open the door unless it is me and then only if I’m alone. You got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She hung up and closed her eyes. A deep breath helped her put everything into perspective and prioritize.
Tumbel’s team gathered around her, looking at the computer screen. “We have four gunmen inside. Outer defenses have been taken over by the enemy—”
“You mean . . .” Tumbel said, resting his hand on her shoulder.
With a jerk, she leaned away from him until his hand moved off. “I told you not to touch me,” she tried to say the words calmly but knew they came out like an ice-cold demand. It didn’t matter. Best for him to learn now. People didn’t touch her. Ever. “And yes, all four guards have been compromised.”
One of the guys behind her said to call 911. Tumbel snorted. “We are the 911, Hamel.”
Yes, that was true. She was the one in charge of the situation and she had to find a quick, peaceful resolution.
One of the men leaned over her, tapping the screen. “There, our mates are there.”
Candy looked at the camera shot. So not good. One of the bad guys had his gun pointed at a woman in Tumbel’s group downstairs. She was going to be the first casualty.