Fletcher aided the taskforce until they had the scene in control. Once they did, he made a run toward the other side of the campus. He moved with stealth speed straight to the smaller building, focusing on Sin’s location.
43
Sin waited for the commotion to calm down to make sure no one was going to come running out of the mortuary building. She had already performed a preliminary search of the outside perimeter. Through her night vision goggles, she could make out tire tracks leading to a steel garage door as well as footprints leading to the same.
Sin made her way to the back of the building and located a rear entrance. She picked both locks.
Turning the knob, she eased the door open. Hugging the outside wall, she grabbed a flash-bang grenade from her belt, pulled the pin, counted down from five, and tossed it inside. She closed her eyes and covered her ears to ward off the oncoming sensory assault. Even with her eyes shut and ears covered, she was still able to see the intense light and hear the disorienting sound.
Sin reached down and curled her fingers around the pearl handle of one of her Colts, before sliding down the wall and entering the building in a crouched position. With her night vision goggles in place, she realized that she was in some sort of storage room; a room that housed a mattress and a free-standing sink.
This must have been where Joel lived, Sin thought, as she edged her way around the room.
Finding and hearing no one, she opened the adjoining door which led into a larger room that the garage door opened into. The first thing she saw was a white van that she believed belonged to the tire tracks. Sin didn’t sense a threat, and after every hellhole she’d been to and every enemy she’d faced, she trusted her senses. Squatting in a corner, she took in the green, hazy surroundings. There was no doubt in her mind that she was in a morgue. Whether it was originally meant for teaching or not, it was definitely a morgue. By the strength of the formaldehyde odor flowing through her nostrils, it was one that had been used recently.
Her earpiece came alive with Fletcher’s voice. “I’m at the back door. Where are you?”
“Walk straight and into the next room.”
Sin heard the sound of footsteps. She hugged the wall and aimed her gun at the door. She could never be too careful.
“It’s me, Sin. Don’t shoot.”
Sin lowered her gun as Fletcher entered. He nodded and looked around. “You’ve led me into some insane environments during our time together,” he said, “but what kind of medical hell is this?”
Sin held up a flashlight. “I was just about to find out.” They took off their night vision goggles and explored the room. Sin pointed the light in the opposite corner. “That’s an embalming machine.”
“Bloody hell,” Fletcher moaned.
Sin pulled gloves from her dry bag and gave Fletcher a pair. “Put these on, I don’t want to contaminate the scene any more than we already have.”
Fletcher pointed to a row of metal cabinets. “Those aren’t for filing reports, are they?”
“No,” Sin said. “You want to do the honors, or should I?”
“You’re in charge, you open them.”
“Pussy,” Sin breathed as she gently opened the first drawer. “Empty,” she stated in a thankful voice. Repeating the process again and again she was happy to note that the results were all the same: empty. Placing her hand on the last drawer, she released the lock button. As she began to pull, her heart sank. Sin knew her luck was about to change. She eyed Fletcher, “This one’s heavier.”
He drew his gun and nodded in her direction. Sin yanked open the drawer and did the same. It definitely wasn’t empty, but there was no need for guns either.
On top of the shrouded corpse was an envelope.
Sin pocketed the note, pulled back the sheet, and gasped as she stared down into the eyes of Jonathan Rand.
Fletcher was the first to move forward. Shining a penlight at the body, he said, “It’s not as ashen as it should be.” He pulled off a glove and placed his fingers on the side of Rand’s neck, applying pressure. “I’ve got a pulse.”
Sin was shocked. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Call it in. It’s weak, but it’s there.”
“Garcia, can you read me?”
“I’m here, Boss Lady.”
“We found one of the officers. He’s still alive. Is it safe to call it in? We’ll need a trauma-hawk out here.”
“Duggen’s men seem to have everything under control; I’ll call it in.”
Sin heard Duggen’s voice enter the conversation. “We found the other three officers in the schoolhouse. They won’t need a hawk. But we will need a coroner.”
Sin’s eyes locked on a gurney leaning up against the far wall. “We’ll transport. Meet us in front of the main building. Over.”
Fifteen minutes later, Sin and Fletcher made the transfer to the paramedics. Rand was placed on a saline drip, and with each drop, life began to ease its way back into the captain.
He was about to be transported by helicopter to Jackson Memorial when he feebly reached out and touched Sin’s wrist. She placed a hand on top of his and told him to rest. Rand squeezed a little harder and pried open his eyes. Sin leaned forward as he opened his dried, cracked lips.
Rand attempted to speak, but in such a weakened state the only thing that came through was a weak moan.
Just mere inches from his mouth, it was still difficult for Sin to hear, but she finally got the message. “You have my promise, Captain,” she whispered back. As she straightened up, his heart monitor went berserk.
“We need to transport
