Hester was off her cell phone. “Anything?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Not from back here,” said Sally. It occurred to me that she was in the position that guarded the only fast entrance to the barn, the two doors that faced out to the lane.
“Hester? Could you take this side for a sec? “I said. As she moved toward my position, I hustled over to Sally.
“You got a round in the chamber?” I asked her, touching the barrel of her shotgun.
“Oops. No.” She jacked a round in. “God, I feel dumb.”
“Don’t. I asked because I forgot to do the same,” I said. “We got to get up to speed here.” Our training emphasized that long weapons such as shotguns and rifles should not have a round chambered until absolutely necessary. Just to avoid catastrophic accidents.
“Yeah. No shit,” she muttered.
“Okay, keep a good look, and sing out if you see something. You’ve got the only place they can get in in a hurry.”
“Yeah. I thought about that. You think they’re gonna try that?”
“Not really. They’re probably hustling their asses out over the hills already. Wouldn’t you?”
She smiled. “No doubt.”
Not ten seconds later came the burst of fire that blew the nail fragment into Hester’s face.
CHAPTER 23
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2001 17:39
My cell phone rang. It was lamar .
“Okay, Carl. The ambulances are startin’ up towards the barn. Don’t come out yet, but get ready to go after they leave.”
“Okay.”
“The two officers with ‘em are TAC team members. Just so’s you know.”
“I feel better already,” I said, lying.
“Yeah,” said Lamar, “me, too.”
I turned to Hester. “Better get ready, the ambulances are on the way.”
She got to her feet slowly. “It hurts really bad when I stand,” she said. “Give me a minute.”
“Take your time,” I said. I could see a flickering shadow on the far wall of the barn as the ambulance headlights shone through all the cracks. “They’re just coming up the lane now.”
I motioned Sally over. “You stay with her, too. We don’t go out with her if she can do it herself.”
“I’m just fine now,” said Hester. “You guys be careful. Don’t take chances.”
“We’ll be just fine. We get to split just as soon as the HRT gives us the word. They’re here, probably gettin’ set up. Don’t worry about us.”
She nodded. The three of us stood back a bit and watched the shadows move as the ambulances came closer. When I thought they might be nearly in place, I walked over to the east wall and peered out through the crack in the door.
“They’re getting into the area under the yard light now,” I said. “Let’s get ready to move.”
My cell phone rang. It was Marty, the TAC team leader.
“Okay, as soon as the ambulance closest to you stops, you can start Hester to the rig. The officer will go toward the other ambulance. The EMTs will come to meet her as soon as they have her in sight.”
“Good,” I said, and broke the connection. Marty was going to be busy.
I watched the ambulance roll to a stop, and the passenger door for the cab open. The floodlights came on, and the back doors began to swing open. The driver angled the rig toward the road, so that the back was facing us, and came to a stop.
An officer got out the passenger side and began to walk toward the second ambulance. The driver stuck his arm out of his window and motioned for Hester to come out. We opened the door, and I accompanied her for about ten steps, as the EMTs in the back got out and broke out the stretcher. We met about halfway between the barn and the back of the rig.
They had Hester on the stretcher and were strapping her in before I could really say goodbye to her.
“We’ll get you where it’s warm,” said Diane, one of the EMTs from the Maitland ambulance. “Let’s see that…” she inspected the wound. “I’ll bet that hurts, yeah? It looks pretty good, though. The docs will…”
I stopped listening, and out of habit, grabbed one side of the stretcher and helped them over the rough ground. I knew I was breaking a rule, but I didn’t think it could be too damned important. I’d just go back into the barn when we were done.
We got to the rig and had Hester inside and the stretcher secured in five seconds. “Take good care of her, Diane,” I said.
“You bet,” she said, and the back doors closed.
I turned and started toward the barn, watching the activity around the other ambulance. I could see the injured terrorist being set down by two of his buddies. As they got close to the floodlight area from the ambulance, I saw they had used an old door for a stretcher. The injured man was all wrapped up in a winter coat, with a huge, blood-soaked bandage on his left leg. It looked like they’d used anything they had to try to stop the bleeding, and I had the distinct impression of a large towel being the outer layer. It, too, was reddish brown with blood. He had to have a severed artery, I thought.
While one of the TAC officers stood with his eyes locked on the two terrorists who’d brought the wounded man down, the other TAC officer patted him down for weapons before any of the EMTs were allowed to approach. I noticed that one of the EMTs on the terrorist rig was Terri Biederman. I wondered if anybody had told her where her friend Linda was. It had gotten very quiet.
The officer motioned the EMTs over, and as they began to lift the wounded terrorist from the door to the real stretcher, the two officers spread apart a bit, providing better coverage.
One of the bad guys said something, but I have no idea what it was. It didn’t sound like English. He slowly raised his hand and waved at the wounded man. Then he and the other man just turned around and walked briskly back into the shadows.
I saw the wounded terrorist being hoisted into the back of the ambulance, and the two officers moving slowly backwards, keeping their eyes on the shadowed area where the men had faded back into the darkness. I breathed a sigh of relief. Smooth as silk. Now we could get out ourselves.
I walked back to the barn and gave a thumbs up to the dark area where I knew Sally and George were.
“Perfect,” I said as I slipped through the door. I looked back, and saw the taillights of Hester’s ambulance begin to turn onto the roadway.
The second ambulance was turning in the yard, with both TAC officers trotting alongside.
“I wonder if I should leave my pack?” said George, half to himself.
“You can always come back for it,” I said, turning back into the barn.
The force of the blast knocked me to my knees. I only remember seeing the floor come at me, and catching myself with an outstretched arm, Sally letting out a yell, and George running by me and out into the yard.
The pressure wave had felt like getting slapped with a good-sized couch. I got to my feet as fast as I could and turned toward the barnyard.
The second ambulance had blown up. The sides of the modular body had bulged out, the rear doors had blown open, and the rear corner of the top was peeled up. The access doors were blown across the yard. The whole rear body was off the chassis, about five feet away from it, and at an angle. There was an enormously bright flame, like the back of a jet engine, and a shrieking sound as the big onboard O2, bottle vented and burned. The flame was so hot, I could literally see the opposite side of the ambulance begin to distort and melt.
It was raining tiny little pieces of plastic and Styrofoam and paper-wrapped medical supplies.
The driver’s cab had come off, and there was nothing left of the front except the engine and the steering column that had been bent forward by the force of the explosion.
