Chapter Twenty-Two
11:11 a.m.
River ignored everything but the moron in front of him who held his handgun like a gangster, almost sideways. It would be a miracle if he didn’t shoot himself or one of his own buddies by accident.
He wanted their attention on him, not on his mouse, who lay not two feet behind him on the bloody carpet.
“What’s the cause, Kemosabe?” River asked Moron. “What fabulous line of bullshit did they feed you to turn you into a traitor?”
“Kemosabe? Don’t fucking insult Native Americans by using—”
“I am Native American,” River interrupted. “So fuck you and the ugly horse you rode in on.”
The tall terrorist wearing combat boots, who looked a few years older than Moron, pulled at the idiot’s arm. “Enough. Back up.”
“He killed six of our people,” Moron said, his jaw clenched so tight it looked as if he’d had his mouth wired shut.
Too bad it wasn’t.
“Our men were prepared to die,” Tall said. “Don’t cheapen their sacrifice by giving this ignorant fool more of your attention than he deserves.” Tall smiled, one comrade to another, as if they were in charge of everything.
River started to laugh. More of a chuckle, really, but it gathered energy and momentum as seconds went by.
Tall and Moron started at him, the disgust on their faces so strong it made him laugh harder.
Tall shifted, disgust devolving into the kind of fury precluding a serious ass kicking.
River tensed his abdominal muscles, anticipating those boots impacting his gut with everything the kid could put behind it.
“Why do you want us alive?”
Ava’s question froze Tall in place. His muscles slowly relaxed as the question seemed to circle the room, refocusing Tall, Moron, and the two other gunmen who’d come in behind them on her.
Fuck.
Tall stared over River’s shoulder at his mouse for two long seconds, and then he glanced at River and stepped back.
“Load the woman in the van. Tie him up and leave him here.”
The men moved to follow orders.
“If you need my cooperation in any way, you won’t leave him here to die slowly of blood loss,” Ava said.
“Ava, don’t,” River hissed at her.
Tall didn’t even look at him. He smiled at Ava, and it was ugly. “You’ll cooperate, or we’ll do things so horrible to you, you couldn’t imagine them.”
Shit. She wasn’t going to let that go.
“What do you see when you look at me?” she asked him. “A young woman sheltered by the easy life in the United States? Someone who’s never known a moment of hardship, thirst, hunger, or pain?”
“That’s what you are,” Tall said, showing her his teeth.
Ah fuck, here it comes.
“I have treated people in war zones and in quarantine. I have faced men with guns and witnessed torture. I have gone without food or sleep for days. You don’t scare me. So, if you want my cooperation, you’ll allow me to stop his bleeding. Otherwise…”
She’d thrown down a gauntlet. What the fuck would these little boys, who thought they were men, going to do about it?
Tall pointed his rifle at River’s head, then said to her, “You have one minute.”
Ava was up and forcing him onto his back a second later, muttering, “Where is it? Where is it?”
“Right armpit.” River studied her face. There was blood splattered across the skin of her chin, and from just below her eyes all the way up into her hair.
“Any chest pain?” she asked as she dug her fingers into his body armor, trying to get it out of the way. “Difficulty breathing?”
Was she kidding?
“This doesn’t feel any better or worse than the last time.”
She hummed under her breath just as her fingers hit something that made his shoulder radiate pain. He jerked under her hands, but managed to keep quiet.
She lifted the edge of his armor, then hooked her fingers into his shirt and tore it. “Good, it hit high and missed your lungs. Bad, it may have cracked your scapula.” She opened one of her leg pockets and pulled out a triangular bandage, the kind medics use to make a sling, and stuffed it under his armor.
“What does that mean?” he managed to croak, despite the pain all her digging around the pressure bandage caused. He knew what it meant, but he wanted his audience to think he was unable to deal with his wound.
She put her hand on his neck and looked at her watch. “No shooting rifles for a while.”
“Woo,” he said, his voice artificially high. “A vacation.”
She crossed her eyes at him.
What the fuck?
Before he could ask out loud, she said, “Your pulse is…okay, but you’ve lost a lot of blood. Do not try to use your right arm or shoulder, or you could puncture a lung or an artery. Make sure you seek medical care as soon as possible.” She crossed her eyes again.
The hospital was tapped out, and she knew it. Was she trying to tell him something with the crossed eye bit?
“This isn’t a trip to the hospital,” Moron said to her as he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. “Your minute is up.”
Ava looked at the moron and said, “I promise to do what I’m told.” Then she looked at River and crossed her eyes a third time.
Geez, she was trying to tell him everything she said was opposite of what she meant. What had she said to him?
No shooting rifles.
Don’t use your right arm.
Seek medical care.
The bullet obviously didn’t do much damage. It just hurt.
Wuss.
“Can I shoot him anyway?” Moron asked Tall.
“No, we need him to give the cops a message.” Tall crouched down next to him and casually put the muzzle of his weapon on his shoulder. And pushed.
River didn’t bother trying to hide any pain, but he didn’t want to overdo it, either, so he settled for wincing and grunting.
Tall leaned in and said softly, “Tell the police, the FBI, and Homeland Security that our reign of terror isn’t over just yet. We might hang around El Paso, or we might move on to another city.” Tall shrugged. “But we’re not done.”
“What, no manifesto?” River asked, letting his voice come out hoarse. “No demands?”
Tall patted him on the cheek. “Maybe next time.” He stood, walked three steps away, then turned and shot River point-blank in the chest three times.
Son of a bitch, those hurt.
Ava screamed and tried to get away from Moron, who jerked her back, then had to chase her after she twisted out of his hold. She only got a couple steps away before he grabbed her around the waist and carried her, kicking and screaming, out the motel room door. His boss and the other two stooges followed.
Tall knew River was wearing armor, knew the bullets wouldn’t likely penetrate to do any real damage. He was just fucking with Ava’s head and making River hurt because it was fun for him.
Asshole.
When he caught the guy, he was going to rip him a new one. And he was going to catch him. Tall had made a huge mistake.
He’d left River alive.
As soon as their vehicle was gone, River levered himself off the floor and went out the window. Castillo was still lying in the alley, his weapon on the ground beside him. River picked up the rifle.
He dug out his cell phone and called Dozer.
“Dozer here,” said the agent.
“We just got jumped by our terrorists. I’ve been shot. It’s not too bad, but Dr. Lloyd has been taken. Can you track her cell phone?”
“Only if she keeps it on and it doesn’t get thrown out or destroyed. Hang on.”
River could hear Dozer talking to someone, asking for a trace on Dr. Lloyd’s crisis phone.
“Okay, she’s still online. She’s moving, heading back in this direction.”
“She’s in a van with at least four other people. They’re armed, and they think they know what they’re doing.”
“Are you telling me we’re dealing with more college-student terrorists?” Dozer did not sound impressed.
“Yeah. If they don’t manage to kill themselves first, we’re going to have to put up with a bunch of kids who think they know something about warfare, complete with bad movie lines.”
“Is it too late to quit my job?”
That made River laugh. “Sorry, man. Until this emergency is over, Rodrigues is the only person who can help you with that.”
“I’m doomed.”
“At least no one has shot you yet.”
Dozer didn’t respond immediately, and River waited, hoping for an update on Ava’s location. “Okay, it looks like they’re headed for the university.”
There were manned road blocks between the motel and the university. “If they get stopped by anyone, they’re going to shoot.”
“Give me a minute to clear the path.” Dozer was gone.
River waited, using the time to check his shoulder. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but there wasn’t as much blood as he expected. Maybe his body armor had caught part of the bullet and it just went through the meaty part of his under arm. He checked Castillo’s rifle, then went back inside the room to wait.
He fucking hated waiting. Every second that went by meant another second his mouse was with those assholes. They’d threatened to hurt her, and they would if they decided that would get them something they wanted. Or if she pissed them off too much. His mouse was too smart for her own good and too quick to share her insights, no matter how inflammatory, with everyone.
If they touched her, he’d rip them apart with just his hands.
Dozer came back on without warning. “She’s stationary at the university. The chemistry and computer science building.”
“They went back to the university? You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Where were you hit?”
“A through and through near my armpit. It’s messy, but shouldn’t slow me down.”
“What do you need?” Dozer’s voice was calm.
“Seeing as how the hospital is at full capacity, I’m not looking for an ambulance right now. What I could really use is wheels and maybe a little backup.”
“You might as well ask for the fucking moon. The roads are jammed a mile in every direction around the hospital. You heard Rodrigues has imposed a twenty-four-hour ban on all travel and public gatherings in the entire county? Anyone caught outside without a respirator and fucking Green Lantern ring will be put in lockup.”
It was the right thing to do, but it was going to make his job a lot harder. “Great. Now I have to hide from the good guys and the bad.”
“River, you are a Green Lantern ring.”
“Did you just call me special?”
Dozer laughed. “Yeah, with a goddamn superhero cape.” The laugh died. “Listen, give me a couple minutes to see if I can arrange transport for you to the university campus.”
“You do that. I’m going to see if I can plug this hole in my arm a little better.” He began removing his body armor. He had to take off his shirt to see the wound clearly and realized it could have been a lot worse.
The bullet had drilled a hole through his triceps, but missed hitting the brachial artery. He was able to wrap the bandage around it and secure it tightly. It hurt, but he welcomed the pain. He’d learned a long time ago to use it to stay focused. Once he got his body armor on, it supported the wound fairly well.
After he had himself put together, he called Dozer again. “Got anything for me?”
“Yeah, but it’s a little unconventional.”
“Dude, I’d take a mule.”
Dozer chuckled, but it sounded tired. “You’ll be okay with this, then. I’m sending a transit bus.”
That wasn’t far from a mule. “What’s the punch line?”
“The driver is a retired drill sergeant.”
Seriously? “El Paso public transit hires drill sergeants?”
“They couldn’t keep anyone on a couple of the college’s routes. Rowdy riders. No one gives the drill sergeant any shit.”
“I fucking believe it. What’s his ETA?”
“About ten minutes.”
“What does he know?”
“You’re Special Forces, you’ve been shot, and you’re going after the assholes responsible for the terrorist attacks.”
Jesus.
“Is he armed?”
“He’s got a license to carry, so I assume so.”
“I actually feel sorry for the assholes. A drill sergeant on the warpath is about the worse thing I can think of to sic on them.”
“I kind of wish I could watch.”
“I’ll make sure my report is detailed.”
“I look forward to hearing about it when this shit is over. The travel ban is going to keep me on my toes, so if you call and I don’t answer right away, keep calling.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Good luck.”
“You, too,” River replied. He picked up Castillo’s weapon and walked toward the entrance to the courtyard.
To wait for his bus.
If things weren’t so fucked up, he’d laugh.
The bus pulled up next to him a few minutes later, and the door opened to reveal a grizzled gray-haired man with a regulation buzz cut, a respirator, and the eyes of a madman on vacation.
“Well now, are you my special snowflake?” the driver asked, his voice roughened by either too many cigarettes or too much yelling. Probably both.
Drill sergeants always ask trick questions.
“Yes, Drill Sergeant,” River replied, as if he were still in basic training. “Permission to board the bus, Drill Sergeant?”
The old geezer laughed. “Get the fuck on, Snowflake, and point me in the direction of the sonofabitches who need their asses kicked.”
River boarded, and the driver shut the door.
He held out a hand. “And call me DS. I’m retired.”
They shook. “River.”
“Nah,” DS said. “I’m going to call you Snowflake, unless there’s trouble. Then I’ll call you River.” He put the bus in gear. “Where are we going?”
“The chemistry and computer science building at the university.”
The evil eyes were back. “Buckle up, Snowflake.”