“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope. We’ve got a lot of work to do, Agent Harrison. You’ve got two witnesses here to get statements from—”
“Hangar is clear,” Sweeny called from the open hangar door. “Got a lot of bodies, though. Some of it’s pretty messy. Like a goddam butcher’s shop.”
Danya knew that every minute she remained here was placing her freedom at ever greater risk. If she allowed herself to be taken in for questioning, they’d surely figure out she was wanted on suspicion of terrorism, and murder of an Oregon State Police officer.
She leaned out the open driver’s door. “Hey, guys. If it’s all the same to you, I’d really like to go get my truck.”
Flynn’s professional instincts told him there was something peculiar about this woman. Ex-military?
“Not so fast.” He closed the distance to the SUV, picking up the pistol he’d tossed on the ground.
He shoved it in his pocket, the weight causing the jacket to hang unevenly off his shoulders.
Good. Keep coming closer. Danya was betting that the years he’d spent in an office had dulled his reflexes.
Flynn stopped a few feet from the open door, looking down at Danya.
“I suppose I should thank you for saving me and your friend. And for shooting down the airplane. You know, I didn’t get your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.” She stepped out of the vehicle.
Although he hadn’t worked field operations in years, the SAC’s brain was still sharp. As she squared off before him, the alarms began blaring in his head. He placed a hand in the pocket with the gun.
She was the same height as Flynn, but he outweighed her by at least eighty pounds, giving rise to a false sense of confidence. His hubris turned out to be his downfall. It was too late when he saw the punch coming.
A fist caught him at the base of his throat. Not wanting to kill him, she had checked her swing at the last millisecond to avoid crushing his windpipe.
His eyes bulged, and he threw a hand to his neck as he gasped for air. His mouth was open and his chest heaving, reminiscent of a fish out of water, struggling to breathe.
She grabbed his collar and yanked him closer, even as Harrison and Sweeny raised their M4 Carbines. With Flynn’s pudgy bulk as a shield, she spun him around so he was facing Harrison. Then she reached into his jacket and extracted the pistol to jam the barrel into his back. In the other pocket, she found the keys.
“You.” She locked her gaze with Harrison’s. “Throw the rifle to the side. Tell your partner to do the same.”
At first, neither Harrison nor Sweeny retreated, opting to keep their weapons trained on Danya. This necessarily meant they were also aiming at SAC Andrew Flynn. The only shot either agent could make would have to be through the senior agent.
“Tell them to stand down, or I’ll blow your spine in half.”
“If you kill me, they kill you.”
Toby was standing to the side, clear of impending gunfire, but she didn’t retreat.
“No!” she yelled. “Please. Stop!”
Danya said, “No one else needs to die. We can both walk away. Now tell your men to stand down.”
After a moment of hesitation, Flynn nodded toward Harrison.
“Do it,” he said.
Harrison and Sweeny tossed their carbines aside and raised their hands.
“Now the sidearms,” she said.
Flynn nodded again, and both agents obliged the order.
“Tell your men to stay where they are and keep their hands up. I’m going to drive away, and no one gets hurt.” She leaned in close to Flynn’s ear, her raspy voice a menacing whisper. “You’ve seen my abilities. Trust me, you don’t want to engage me. You’ll lose. Am I clear?”
He nodded.
After releasing her human shield, she got behind the wheel, cranked over the engine, and gunned the accelerator. The four wheels spun, throwing back volumes of gravel and dirt. She cranked the wheel and pointed the vehicle away from the hangar, expecting to receive a barrage of bullets.
Harrison was the first to his weapon. He shouldered the carbine and snapped off a shot without taking the time to properly aim. The bullet went wide.
Toby screamed. “No!”
She threw herself in the line of fire, forcing Harrison to jerk the rifle to the side. His second shot also missed.
Sweeny had joined the fight, and given his angle, he had an unobstructed line of sight on the speeding SUV. He squeezed off shot after shot after shot. Bullets riddled the Explorer, but all impacted just behind the driver.
“Cease fire, dammit! Cease fire.” Flynn waved his arms frantically.
Toby was on her knees, a hand over her mouth, sobbing.
Sweeny fired twice more before the order registered in his mind. The Ford swerved following the last shot, then straightened and raced out of sight.
Biting back his anger, Harrison said, “We could’ve had her. Why’d you let her go?”
Flynn shook his head. “I didn’t let anyone go.”
“What do you call what just happened! Sir.”
Toby still had her face buried in her hands, and Flynn helped her to her feet.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice soothing.
She opened her eyes, gazing at the dissipating dust cloud. The SUV was gone.
“She made it?”
Flynn nodded. “Yeah, I suspect she made it just fine.” Then he faced Harrison. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Agent Harrison, that woman saved my life today, and the life of Miss Riddle. She stopped a likely terrorist attack that, if successful, would have made nine-eleven look like an opening act. And furthermore, when the forensics is completed on Alcatraz, I strongly believe we will know that she singlehandedly thwarted the threatened attack on the San Francisco Bay Area, and saved more than two hundred hostages.”
“With all due respect, sir—”
“Save it,” Flynn said. “Inside the hangar, you’ll find her prints on several weapons. The techs may be lucky enough to extract viable DNA as well. The Bureau will find her.”
Epilogue
By the time Danya made it back to her truck, her shirt was
