The Adamas Blueprint (17 page)

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, maybe I did. Now, I just try not to think about him. But seeing him brings up all these memories. It’s more painful than anything else.”

“Then you’ll call him?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see. Right now, we’ve got to call a cab.”

While Kevin finished repacking the laser tightly in its box, Erica used the yellow pages and telephone on the desk. She gave the address to the cab company and hung up.

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“They said it’ll be twenty to thirty minutes,” she said as the sales rep returned with a large smile on his face.

“The check cleared with no problem,” he said. “Is everything to your satisfaction?”

“Yes, thanks.”

The sales rep put on his coat and escorted them to the front door, helping Kevin carry the laser. They placed it gently on the cement outside the building under the awning to protect the laser from the rain, which was now coming down in sheets. The sales rep locked the door.

“I’m sorry I can’t let you wait inside,” he said.

“That’s all right,” Erica said. “You’ve done enough already. Our cab will be here soon.”

The sales rep looked curious and then shrugged. The circumstances
were
rather strange, Erica thought. But the money seemed to quiet him, and he climbed into his car.

A minute after the sales rep drove away, a Taurus turned onto Greenmont. Erica didn’t pay much attention to it; it was probably an employee returning from dinner for some late night work at one of the other offices on the block. She was about to ask Kevin where they were going to go when the Taurus suddenly veered into the LuminOptics parking lot.

“Oh shit!” Kevin said almost under his breath. The next word was shouted. “Run!”

Erica’s stomach dropped when she realized Kevin’s terror. Kevin grabbed her hand and sprinted toward the far end of the parking lot, the downpour drenching them almost immediately.

The Taurus drove straight at them as if it were going to run them down. Kevin and Erica tried angling away from the chain link fence separating them from the parking lot next door, but the Taurus skidded to a stop ten feet in front of them, blocking the only way out of the enclosed lot.

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A smiling man with perfectly coiffed black hair lowered the passenger window. In the driver’s seat sat a beefy younger man with a crewcut. Her focus left the black-haired man’s grinning face when he lifted a pistol above the window sill.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton,” he said. “You can’t know how happy I am to see you.”

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CHAPTER 23

Kevin couldn’t believe he was seeing them again. But his eyes weren’t deceiving him. In the car before him were Barnett and Kaplan, the fake policemen from Houston.

“I can tell you are surprised, Mr. Hamilton,” Barnett said. “We will have plenty of time to answer your questions.” His gaze shifted to Erica. “And I’m glad I finally get to meet Miss Jensen. You know, you both had us worried for a while. The trick with your credit cards was quite ingenious. I will be interested to find out whose idea that was. Now, please open the back door slowly and climb in.”

Kevin looked at Erica with dismay. If he tried something stupid, like charging them, he’d only get shot. He was about to tell Erica to do what the man said when an engine roared from his left.

He turned in time to see his dad’s truck hurtling toward the Taurus from behind. In the next second, as he and Erica scrambled to get back, the pickup smashed into the Taurus, collapsing its trunk and catapulting it into the chain link fence twenty feet to their right. The Taurus hit the fence straight on and careened backward, coming to rest about five feet from the fence, its engine stalled.

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They wasted no time and ran to the truck. Even with such a heavy impact, only minor damage showed on the truck’s front bumper. Murray was already opening the passenger door.

“Hurry!” he yelled.

Erica got in first, then Kevin.

“Nick, the glove compartment! My gun!”

Kevin opened it and found a Glock 17 in a leather holster. He hesitated and then saw groggy movement behind the Taurus’ limp airbags. Quickly, he unsnapped the holster and drew the Glock. His dad was heading toward the parking lot exit.

“Wait! The laser! Dad, we need to go back!”

His dad threw him a surprised glance. “What are you talking about?”

“The company entrance. We have to go back.” When he saw that his dad wasn’t turning the wheel, he yelled. “Go back!”

“I must be nuts,” Murray said. He yanked the wheel around and headed back to the LuminOptics front door, where the boxed laser was still sitting. As they screeched to a halt, Kevin glanced back at the Taurus. Shit! He could hear the engine beginning to crank. The passenger door opened. The man he knew only as Barnett climbed out. Blood streamed down his face.

“Dad! Put the truck between that package and the car.”

Murray pulled the truck’s front up to the awning, its left side to the Taurus, and Kevin jumped out of the truck.

“Everybody use this door.”

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Erica and Murray followed him. Just as they did, he heard the pop of a pistol. Kevin chambered a round.

“Get down!” He rose above the truck’s bed and fired three quick shots in the direction of the Taurus to give them some cover.

“Erica, help dad put the laser in the back of the cab. I’ll try and slow them down.”

He scooted to the back of the Chevy and peered around to see Barnett getting back in the Taurus. Even with the trunk shortened by half, it was moving. The rear suspension had obviously come through the impact unscathed. He couldn’t let them get any closer, and he sure as hell didn’t want a second car chase in as many days, especially not with this lumbering Chevy truck.

Kevin propped his right wrist in his left hand and sighted carefully through the notch on the Glock’s barrel, letting the old habits come back. Even through the rain, the Taurus’ right rear tire was sharply in focus as it came in his direction and then blurred as he focused on the Glock’s front sight. Gently, he squeezed the trigger.

The right rear tire blew out with a satisfying pop, sending the Taurus spinning to the right.

Kevin quickly repeated the motions, but the car was now moving much more wildly. This time it took two shots to take out the left rear tire.

Kevin turned to see his dad and Erica maneuvering the box into the cab’s rear storage area.

They’d be finished any second.

He’d kept the Glock pointed at the Taurus and now saw its passengers scrambling out the other side. He realized that he’d unconsciously kept count of his bullets, just as he used to. He’d fired six. If his dad had a full clip in there, there should be 5 rounds left.

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Out of the corner of his eye, he saw first his dad and then Erica crawl into the truck cab.

Kevin fired two more rounds and bolted for the open door. He dove, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Go!”

He stayed on the floor as his dad backed up ten feet and then slammed the truck into Drive.

Bullets plinked into the driver’s side of the truck and then the rear as they raced toward the parking lot exit farthest from the gunmen.

The truck veered crazily to the left as it sped onto the road, its rear end sliding to the right on the slick pavement. Kevin sat up in the seat. He could see his dad fighting to bring the Chevy under control, steering into the skid.

The truck’s nose shifted back to the right, pointing them straight at a shallow drainage ditch running along the opposite side of the road. But Murray was no longer attempting to turn the wheel. His hands rested almost lazily on the bottom arc.

Trying to avoid plunging into the ditch head on, Kevin reached across and knocked the wheel counterclockwise. The truck again veered to the left, all six tires skidding. The Chevy tilted sideways, sending mud spraying to their right, and came to a rest with its right tires at the bottom of the ditch.

Kevin was about to yell at his father when he saw Erica’s bloodstained left hand.

“He’s been shot,” Erica said. “Left side, no visible exit wound.”

“Shit!” Kevin said, crawling over the back of the seat so he could get to his father. Then he remembered the gunmen. Barnett and Kaplan were still out there.

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He leaned back to look toward the LuminOptics parking lot through the rear window. They were running towards the truck, pistols held in front of them.
Bastards!
Kevin thought and yanked open the rear sliding glass. He shifted the pistol to his left hand and fired.

The gunmen dove behind the low retaining wall separating the drainage ditch on the other side from the parking lot.

“Kevin!” Erica yelled. “He’s hemorrhaging. We need to get him to a hospital now!”

He looked at the driver’s door and saw blood dripping from the armrest.

“You take care of him,” he said. “I’ll drive.”

He kept aim on the retaining wall as Erica dragged Murray to the right. She was straining mightily, but gravity was on her side.

“Okay!” she said when she was in position.

He fired the last of the bullets and jumped into the driver’s seat. The truck had stalled, so he had to waste precious seconds shifting it into Park, turning the engine over, and shifting it back into Drive. In the rearview mirror, he saw a head poking around the end of the retaining wall only a hundred feet behind them.

He slammed the accelerator down, but the rear wheel spun in the muddy ditch. Shit! The rear was a live axle; if one wheel was spinning the other wouldn’t turn. He looked down, praying he would find what he was looking for. At first, he panicked, not seeing it.
He’s got to have it!

Kevin thought.
Where the hell is the knob?
Then he realized he was looking for the wrong thing.

It wasn’t a shifter. It was a rocker switch on the console.

“Thank God!” he said and engaged the four-wheel drive system.

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He pushed on the gas again. This time all six tires bit into the ground. The truck wanted to stay pointed straight ahead so he had to force the wheel to the left. The truck bounced as it came out of the ditch and level on the pavement. Looking in the side mirror, Kevin floored it.

Barnett and Kaplan were racing toward them, lifting their pistols to fire.

“Down!” he yelled and heard the hail of bullets hitting the truck bed’s rear door.

They continued accelerating and Kevin raised his head. The gunmen were now 100 yards behind them. Their pistols were now at their sides, knowing that they were too far away to take an accurate shot. Kevin came to the T intersection and turned right without stopping.

“I think we’re okay now. You can sit up.” His father was slumped against Erica. He wasn’t unconscious as Kevin had earlier thought, but he was on the verge. Erica unbuttoned Murray’s shirt, which was soaked in blood.

“How is he?” Kevin said.

“It’s hard to tell. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Should we stop and try to do something for him?” He began to slow down.

“No, I’ve got some pressure on it now. I couldn’t apply it as well when I was crouched down. The most important thing is to get to a hospital as soon as we can. Do you know where one is?”

“I think so. I saw one on the way here. It can’t be more than five minutes from here.”

Kevin wasn’t paying as much attention to the road as he should have been, and the truck hit a foot-deep pothole. The impact jarred Murray awake.

“What? Where are we?”

“It’s all right, dad. You just rest. You’ve been shot. We’re taking you to the hospital.”

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“I surprise you?” Murray slurred the words.

“Yeah, you did. Thanks. Now just be quiet. Erica’s taking care of you.”

“After I dropped you off, I saw a car that was near my house this afternoon. Looked like the guy was watching you. I decided to hide and see what he wanted. Trouble.”

“You did real well, Murray,” Erica said. “Don’t try to talk.”

“Saw their guns. Saw them chase you. Had to do something. I...” Suddenly, he began to wheeze, trying to take in huge breaths with great difficulty.

“Damn!” Erica said.

“What? What is it?”

“It sounds like a hemothorax.”

“English!”

“I can’t tell for sure, but I think he’s got a collapsed lung. It’s okay, Murray. Just try to breathe normally. We’ll make you feel better in a few minutes.”

“What do we do?” Kevin asked.

“We can’t do anything. Just get to the hospital.”

Murray continued to gulp for air, clutching his chest. As the truck sailed through a green light doing seventy, Kevin spotted a blue sign with a large capital H. Below it, another blue sign said two miles.

* * *

Dr. Jake Hammersmith studied the board, looking to see who could be admitted to make more room in Community North’s ER. In his new position as chief resident, he had to make the tough decisions. Maybe he could get Neurology to take the head trauma in room 3. It was really MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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a toss-up; the man was babbling about miniature robots living in his brain, but Psych had already said they wouldn’t take him without insurance. Maybe if...

The ER door burst open and a man ran in, skidding to a halt in front of Jake. The man was covered in blood.

“I need help!”

“It’ll be okay,” Jake said as examined him for wounds. “What happened to you.”

“Not me! My dad! He’s outside! Come on!” The man ran toward the door, waving for Jake to follow.

“Peter!” Jake yelled. “Get a gurney outside, stat!”

He ran outside with the man. Peter was right behind him with the gurney.

A huge dualie was parked with the driver’s side next to the ER door. “What happened?” Jake said as he climbed into the truck.

A woman in the passenger seat had her arms around a large man who was unconscious. Both were soaked with blood.

“At least one gunshot wound to his chest,” the woman said. “He’s lost over two pints of blood. Possible hemothorax.”

“How about you two?” Jake said.

“It’s his blood,” she said. “We’re fine.”

Jake removed the bundle of torn clothing the woman had been using as a compress. He tore away the man’s shirt and inspected the wound. “You a doctor?” he asked the woman.

“Not yet. Just started my fourth year at South Texas.”

“What’s your name?”

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“Erica.” She pointed at her male companion. “This is the patient’s son, Kevin.”

Jake didn’t waste time with formalities. “Kevin, is he on any medications?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s possible,” said Erica. “He has lung cancer.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “What? How do you know that?”

Before she could answer, Jake said, “Kevin, what’s your father’s name?”

“Murray.”

Jake lightly slapped Murray’s face. “Murray, can you hear me?”

Murray nodded groggily, still struggling for air. Then he passed out again.

They carried Murray from the truck and placed him on the gurney. Jake kept pressure on the wound, knowing it wasn’t going to do much more than keep the gurney clean.

In seconds, they burst into the trauma room. Kevin started to follow them in. Jake was about to ask him to leave when Erica pulled him outside.

“They’ll take care of him,” he heard her say. “We’ll just be in the way.”

An orderly moved the portable curtained partition so the trauma scene couldn’t be viewed from the hall. Still, Jake knew that Kevin and Erica would be able to hear the commotion.

“On my count!” he said. “One, two, three!” They lifted Murray onto the trauma table, and the five doctors and nurses in the room were on him immediately, starting IVs, hooking him up to instruments, and intubating him.

Jake put the stethoscope to Murray’s chest listening for breath sounds. The med student was right about the hemothorax. Breath sounds were present on the right, absent on the left. Blood filling the chest cavity on Murray’s left was not letting his lung inflate.

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“I need a chest tube,” Jake said. He kept talking while he inserted the chest tube. “Call the OR. Get a surgeon and a perfusionist ready.”

Once Jake had the tube in, blood came out in a torrent. For a moment, it seemed to subside but then it resumed.

“I’m losing the pulse,” one of the nurses said. “BP 60 over 40.”