Ty reached out his hand and tugged her back to him. Pressed her into a seat. Pushed her head down between her knees.
Good job, Ty.
A shuffling and gasps pulled my attention to the left. I couldn’t see for the people standing to that side of the grate.
A muffled, “She’s having a heart attack,” spread person to person and rounded the room.
“Is there a doctor in the room?” a man asked.
Striker held up his hands to show they were free of weapons. He strode toward her. Ty followed. And Kira bounced up from her seat, obviously not willing to leave Ty’s side.
Lula edged to the right of my grate. She tapped twice.
I tapped twice in return.
The army men pushed everyone else to the other side of the room. They were allowing Ty and Striker to help the woman. Was this encouraging?
The MC started in again.
“William and London Davidson.” This time he didn’t need hands to go up. He pointed directly at the couple. They were escorted to the dais, where they were made to kneel in front of their guests.
I turned back to the woman on the ground.
I remembered from Dad’s car crash how that felt to press and push and pray under my breath.
“Now everyone is to get out their phones and hold them over your heads. If you don’t produce a phone, you will be escorted to the corner, and you will be strip-searched. Your clothes will be confiscated.”
The phones came out.
The army men with black sharpies went person to person, writing on their phones. Manipulating them briefly. Dropping them into a bag.
It wasn’t until they were taking Lula’s phone that I heard what they were doing. They wrote her name and the passcode. If it was a biometric code like irises or fingerprints, they were made to change to a swipe code. The batteries were removed.
As the army man moved past, I could see Striker and Ty again.
Kira was using her skirt to blow air the woman’s way.
I knew from the look on their faces that they knew they had failed and hadn’t given up quite yet.
Others tried to get down and relieve Ty, who was doing CPR, but they were pushed away by the gunmen.
Ty was a machine. He kept going until Lula went over and stopped him. “She’s gone. Let’s move her to the side.” She pointed at the table to the right of my grate.
Lula was trying to amass friendlies together. Maybe she had a plan.
Lula and Kira stood on either side of the woman, tucking their hands under her back.
Ty took her feet. Striker had the deceased woman under the arms.
While Lula directed Striker over to the place she had been standing just to the left of my grate, I was worried that she would call attention to me. But she stood with her back to the wall, covering.
“Lexi,” she said under her breath as she squatted to adjust the dead woman. “Man, I sure am hoping that you’re crouched there trying to figure this out. “
“Here.”
“Can you get out?” She arranged the woman’s clothing in a respectful way.
“No.”
“Phone?”
“Yes,” I said as an exhale. “It’s one of theirs. I’m afraid to use it lest they’re monitored.”
“Agreed. Weapons?”
“No.”
“Plan?”
“No.”
She crossed the woman’s arms over her chest. Pressed her eyelids down. Ty took a cloth from one of the tables and was covering it over the woman.
“Any ideas?” Ty asked.
“Not yet,” I said.
What we needed here was magic. I ran through my skill sets, shadow walking, sleight of hand, fighting…really, the only applicable skill I had was puzzling.
I was in limbo, neither part of the crime nor away from it.
Trapped.
They had finished collecting the cell phones. It looked like everyone anteed one up. No one was in the strip search corner.
“Line up when I call your name,” the MC instructed.
Assemblymen, one at a time, moved forward.
I was trained by the best of the best to become an intelligence officer. Not an operator. I had little in the way of applied tactical maneuvers to protect those I loved.
I reached into my bag of knowledge. After my team came in from a mission, they went through the hot washes, explaining what they did and why they did it. Looking for holes. Looking for ways that they could better react the next time.
Eight men, seven women in our group. Christen and Gator were safe.
A gun was a gun was a gun.
I had no idea how to help. I looked over my shoulder. Mom and Dad, if you’re there, I could use some inspiration.
Chapter Forty
Striker, Ty, Kira, and Lula sat on the ground with their backs to the wall with the dead woman in front of them.
I thought that was a pretty good idea. I remembered studying how some native tribes would make platforms up in the trees, away from wild animals, that served as burial sites. When other indigenous peoples passed through the area, they were careful not to disturb the sacred space. Therefore, when trappers moved through the area, they often slept under those trees, knowing that the area's indigenous people wouldn’t go to that spot.
By placing the body there, my team had formed a barricade that, by human nature, wouldn’t be crossed or disturbed.
I hoped so anyway.
I had to find a way out of here.
Before I could tell Striker where I was going, the MC walked up on stage and stood behind the Davidsons. “There seems to be some hesitancy. Some reluctance to do as you are being told. Let me set the record straight here. You are not in charge.” He dragged a .22 caliber pocket pistol from his
