flows through me. I feel lost without her. Part of the grief stems from knowing she is possibly spending another night inside a night runner lair and I’m lying safe and dry in comfort.
“I’ll get you out, Lynn,” I say softly as the first salty tears fall to my pillow.
Even with the turmoil of emotions running through my system, sleep eventually takes hold and I fall into a deep slumber, awakened only by the sounds of others as they move about the premises — shouts from below as crews get ready to move out, laughter occasionally floating above the rising din, boots stepping across the hard floor. I come abruptly awake wanting to get out and find Lynn. Quickly scrambling out of my sleeping bag, I join the ruckus outside.
Robert and Michelle are gathered at the upper railing engaged in a quiet conversation. I see Bri sitting with the rest of Red Team finishing off their breakfast. Not wanting to disturb Robert and Michelle, I wander toward the dining area and Red Team. Gonzalez is apparently telling a tale that has the rapt attention of the others. As I near them, they all break out in a fit of laughter. I smile as it’s good to see Bri accepted as one of them. I’m still not overly comfortable with her being on a team to begin with, but it’s good to see her fitting in.
“Good morning, sir,” McCafferty says.
She is the first to see me nearing. I know that is meant as the greeting it’s intended to be, but it is also serves as a warning to the others that rank is around. It’s a much better way of doing it rather than the elbow nudging or quick whispers I’ve seen. It doesn’t mean they were talking about me or anything bad, it’s just instinct.
“Good morning,” I reply. “I hate to break up the merriment but we’re leaving for the Spectre in thirty minutes.”
“We’re ready when you are, sir,” Gonzalez replies.
I nod and pass Robert and Michelle on my way downstairs.
“Good morning, Robert…Michelle.”
“Morning, Dad.”
“Good morning, Jack,” Michelle responds, smiling.
She sounds more cheery about my presence than she did last night. I guess her worry about Robert has been lessened.
“Feeling okay?” I ask Robert.
“Yeah, Dad. Just fine.”
“We’re leaving to take the Spectre up in about thirty. I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready.”
“See you there.”
I find Frank and Bannerman to let them know we’ll be leaving. They nod before turning back to other tasks. I walk out into the chilly morning, dawning bright and clear. Vehicles of all types fill the parking lot with their idling and revving engines. Standing there, I almost feel like a fifth wheel. The place really does seem to run itself. Drescoll, Frank, and Bannerman have done a great job keeping things together. Of course, it’s really been them all along as I’ve been off and about for the most part.
“Jack?” I hear a voice say tentatively behind me.
Turning, I see Julie standing just a few feet behind me. I tense not knowing what is coming. We haven’t really talked much since she was rescued. It’s not that we dislike each other, it’s just that we really don’t have much to talk about and I’ve been gone for a considerable period of time. I’m mostly surprised to hear her say anything. Julie rubs her arms to ward off the chill, glancing momentarily at the team member standing a few feet away — the one assigned to stay close to her.
“Robert told me what you said…and what you did. I just wanted to say…thanks.”
“I only did what was right. There were others involved as well,” I reply, still not really knowing what to say.
“Well, regardless, thank you. And I never did say thanks for getting us out of that camp, so thanks for that as well.”
“It was nothing, but you’re welcome,” I say.
I have never really been comfortable with people thanking or complimenting me and I tend to shrug it off. I know that may be offensive to others but it’s just my discomfort. Julie nods and turns to walk away, pausing momentarily to glance back over her shoulder.
“And, for what’s it’s worth, I’m sorry about Lynn,” she says and continues back inside.
The funny thing is, I expected a whole lot more drama with having two exes under the same roof, but that hasn’t materialized, much to my relief. It could be, once again, that I’m gone a bit, which I’m sure they don’t mind in the least, and that I haven’t really engaged them in much conversation.
Vehicles depart from the compound, some gears grinding as they fade toward the gate. My patience is wearing thin and I turn back to see what is keeping Red Team when they emerge from the entrance chuckling. Gonzalez and McCafferty both ruffle Bri’s head to which she grins sheepishly.
“Not to worry, we’re here, sir,” Gonzalez says.
“Good, I thought you had decided to create a replica of the Sistine Chapel,” I respond.
“We finished that fifteen minutes ago,” Gonzalez replies with a grin.
“Good grief. Just load up.”
We take two Humvees north along a route we could now probably blindly negotiate. It doesn’t take long to ready the AC-130, and we are soon lifting off into the crisp morning. The impatience and anger I felt previously has dissipated now that I’m actually taking some action. I’m still not exactly sure what building Lynn may be in, but I have the spot pinpointed in my mind. I’ll fly to where it is and we’ll see what we are dealing with.
Robert is in the command module ready to start the video. I plan on making a few passes to take visual and thermal images, however, I want to limit the time spent over the target. Even though I know deep down the images of Lynn were sent for the reason of locating her, limiting our exposure, and thus alerting those inside are just instinctual.
With Craig in the right seat and Bri doing her job as the flight engineer, I level us off at a low altitude and proceed south toward Olympia. The terrain below is so much different than the other parts of the country. Here, the green foliage remains due to the amount of moisture. Sure, some of the fields are brown as they always are in the summer, but the evergreens make up a large part of the area.
We pass directly over Cabela’s as I fly directly toward the location in my mind. Vehicles across the interstate are busy clearing the remains of the rubble. Trees lie jumbled where they are felled around the outer walls, looking like a large game of ‘pick up sticks’ is in progress. Several folks in the parking lot look up at our passage, some of them waving. I rock my wings in response, quickly leaving the sanctuary behind.
Burned out neighborhoods give way to more trees and buildings as we proceed toward the city center. The once thriving downtown passes underneath and we fly over the ridge overlooking it. Pressing onward, we are soon over the Capital Mall with its empty lots surrounding it. Zooming past it, we are almost out of the city proper when I feel us nearing the spot indicated by the image that was sent. We pass directly over the location and I bank us to get a better idea of what we may be dealing with. In the turn, I look out my window and see a hospital gradually come into view.
It’s situated on the very outskirts of the city but I recognize it for what it is — The Capital Medical Center. It’s one of the larger hospitals in the area. Its tan brick walls and dark windows, which make up a large part of the facility, stretch upward for four stories. Another large section to the north is only single story. While not even close to as big as Madigan Hospital, it still covers a lot of area. It’s another of those buildings that would take a battalion to take if it is indeed infested with night runners.
I set up a circle around the building and have Robert begin videoing the structure from all angles. I look at the repeater as we go thermal but nothing much comes to view on the screen — it’s much the same as the visual representation except cast in shades of grays and whites. I wish we had x-ray capabilities to see inside, but I’ll analyze the videos once we get back to the compound.
Making one last circle, I commit the environment and building to memory. The area itself is mostly open with an apartment complex to the east and several smaller medical offices to the south. The parking lot, dotted with trees, is filled with vehicles. A life flight helicopter sits on a single helipad to the side, the rotors dropping
