The Good Soldier (38 page)

I pulled my trigger before he managed to square up. The bullet hit him in the side of the head. A cloud of blood hovered where he stood and coated the wall behind him.

Sarah took a step into the room and stopped. Her face skewed and shock filled her eyes. "What the hell happened?"

"We need to get her out of here," I said. "Now."

Sarah went to work, freeing the woman from the wires that bound her, and then freeing the bed. She started pushing it toward the door.

"Stop," I said.

"What?" she said.

"That won't work. What are we going to do? Steal an ambulance?"

"What do you suggest then?" she said.

"There." Frank stood outside the room and pointed at a wheelchair.

"That's crazy," Sarah said. "We don't know the extent of her injuries."

"We know she has a concussion and we'll have to assume that's it." I picked Tammy up and stepped into the hall. Frank arrived with the wheelchair two seconds later and helped me set her down. "Frank, go get the car. We'll meet you outside."

Two members of the hospital's security department were running down the hall toward us. They shouted something, probably stop, but I didn't bother to listen. I started to push Tammy in the opposite direction. The only problem was that they were moving faster than I could with a wheelchair in front of me. I heard one of them yell
Jesus Christ
, and I assumed they'd reached the room and looked inside. The echo of their footsteps ceased, and without looking back, I figured they entered Tammy's room.

The emergency exit doors loomed in the distance. There was enough separation between the room and us that we had a good chance of making it. "Go open those doors, Sarah."

She ran ahead and hit the doors full speed, placing one hand on the red and silver handle and planted her shoulder into the middle of the door. It popped open, letting natural light flood the end of the hallway. A piercing alarm blared through the corridor. The squeal penetrated my ears and was certain to rouse at least one of the guards.

I slowed as I approached the open doorway. I could see that the concrete walkway stretched out about six feet, but it had no rail to stop us from going over the edge if I burst through too fast. I'd dump Tammy out of the wheelchair, sending her careening into the asphalt. I angled the wheelchair through and descended the ramp as quickly as possible with Sarah on my heels.

"Stop," the guard shouted from behind.

I pulled my sidearm and reached back and shot into the wall above his head. He ducked into the building as chunks of plaster rained down. He slammed the emergency exit door shut.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sarah rose from the squatting position she took when I reached around with the gun. Her hands were still on her head and fire was in her eyes.

"Swatting a fly." I pushed on, toward the end of the building. A car nosed around the corner. I quickly judged it as being a government vehicle. Only question I had was whether it was Frank or the police. They gave us leeway, but I shot and killed a man inside the hospital. That would require significant ironing to straighten out, and would likely have to come from someone far above my pay grade.

The car pulled all the way around the corner and I recognized Frank in the driver's seat. He pulled up next to us and jumped out.

"Sarah," I said. "You get in the back with Tammy."

"OK."

She slid into the back seat. I lifted Tammy and sat her next to Sarah, who helped steady the woman. Ten seconds later, we were racing behind the hospital toward a rear exit, on our way back to headquarters.

I leaned back in my chair and placed my feet on my desk, crossed at the ankle. The sound of the ringing cell phone was stifled inside my pocket. It was barely audible. I cursed myself for switching it off vibrate. The display read
Unknown caller
. The clock said twelve p.m.

"Twenty-four-"

"Yeah, I got it," I said. "You don't have to keep reminding me."

The man laughed. "So, Mr. Noble's got it, does he?"

"What do you want?"

The man said nothing.

"What happens in twenty-four hours?"

"Time runs out."

"For what?"

"You're about to find out."

"Who the hell are you?"

"You're about to find that out, too."

I stood and walked around my desk to the open doorway of my office. The lobby was deserted and silent. Frank stepped out of the infirmary, his mouth open, as if he was about to say something. I held a single finger in the air to stop him.

"Give my best to Ms. Nockowitz," the man said. "If she ever wakes up again, that is."

I flipped the phone shut without responding. Tossed it on my desk and left my office, slamming the door shut behind me. Frank waited in the center of the lobby, hands in his pockets. His shoulders were slightly hunched forward and his head down.

"What is it?" I said.

"She's up."

Good news for us, bad for the guy,
I thought.

I stepped into the infirmary, nodded at Doc, and smiled at Tammy. She twisted the left side of her mouth into a smile and blinked slowly.

"She OK?" I asked.

Doc nodded and said, "We countered what they put in her. She's going to be fine."

"Can she handle questioning?"

"Yes. As long as it's not the way you normally do it."

"OK," I said. "Leave."

The doctor puffed his cheeks and then blew the air out in a burst, letting his lips flap together. Perhaps he wanted to argue with me and decided against it. I didn't watch him leave the infirmary, only heard the door close behind me, leaving Frank and me alone with Tammy.

"Tammy," I said. "I'm going to be asking you some hard questions. I need you to answer the best you can. OK?"

"OK," she said.

"Tell me about Christopher's father."

"There's nothing to tell."

"What do you mean?"

"He left a long time ago."

"Where did he go?"

"Go," she said with a chuckle. "That would imply he was there to begin with."

"So would saying he left."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "He's not in the picture. He's never been in the picture. Can we leave it at that?"

"When's the last time you had contact with him?"

She glanced between Frank and me and then let her eyes settle on the wall behind me. "Years ago. I asked him for help. Never heard back."

"Tammy?" I said.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Why are you lying to me?"

"I…" She looked away.

"We're trying to help. I think the boy's father has something to do with this."

I noticed Frank straighten and assumed he was a bit confused. This wasn't something we had talked about. In fact, I didn't know where I was going with the questioning. But limited time called for a change in procedure.

A tear gathered in the corner of her right eye. It built up until it could hide in the well no more. It slid down the side of her face and dripped onto her pillow, leaving a tiny stain that faded almost as soon as it appeared. "I want my son back, that's all. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"What do you mean you didn't mean for this to happen?" I said.

She sobbed lightly, but said nothing.

"Tammy?" I said, raising my voice.

She still said nothing.

"Dammit, Tammy, we're trying to help." My voice had escalated to a yell, and the door behind me burst open. "Get the hell out of here, Doc," I said.

"It's Sarah, and you need to take it easy on her."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Sarah said.

She had a point. Did I? Lack of sleep and an overabundance of stress had me stretched to the max. I took it out on the poor woman who'd been beaten and battered and had her son taken from her. I decided to back it up and start over.

"OK, Tammy," I said. "Aside from me and Frank, did you recognize anyone at the dinner last night?"

She nodded.

"Who?"

"Vernon Burnett."

"From seeing him on TV?"

"No."

"Where?"

She said nothing. Tears filled her eyes and soon streamed down her cheeks. She sobbed lightly.

"Tammy?" I said. "Talk to me."

"You thought I was coming onto you, didn't you?"

This time I said nothing.

She forced a puff of air that I figured had been meant to sound like a laugh. "I guess I wanted you to think that. You seemed to like me. I mean, you smiled and looked at me."

Her words made little sense to me, almost like she'd begun babbling to throw me off the previous question.

"But," she said, "that wasn't what I was doing. And then when I gave you my number, I thought my look conveyed what I meant."

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Tammy," I said.

Her face turned red and she lifted her clenched fists in the air. Her lips peeled back, revealing teeth gritted tight together. A half-scream, half-growl escaped through narrow gaps where her teeth didn't line up correctly, top to bottom.

The three of us flinched in reaction to the sound the woman produced. Sarah moved toward the bed.

I reached for the door, and said, "I'll get the doctor."

"Wait," Frank said. "Just wait."

Tammy eased back into the pillow that supported her upper back and neck and head. Her face went slack for a moment, and then she began to cry. Her crying lasted thirty seconds, maybe more. She took a few deep, shaky breaths and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. A meek smile crossed her face and she apologized for her outburst.

"I know the Senator," she said. She took a deep breath. "He's my son's father."

I straightened up and sensed the others in the room do the same. "Tammy, Burnett was reported missing after he didn't show up for work this morning."

She began to cry again. In between sobs, she said, "Oh my God, he's got my son."

I left the room and went straight to my office. I had a name. I had a face. I had to find the bastard and put an end to this. I placed my thumb on the fingerprint reader that controlled the locks on my desk. A click followed a beep. I slid the top-drawer open and grabbed my keys and wallet and an extra gun.

Someone cleared their throat from outside my office. I looked up and saw Frank standing there.

"What are you doing, Jack?"

"Going to get Burnett."

"You don't know where he is."

"Yeah, but our buddy Pablo downstairs might."

Frank cocked his head to the side and lifted an eyebrow half an inch. "He's gone, Jack."

"Where?"

"Someone else is working on him now. Trying to get information we couldn't."

Frustration and raged mixed like two foreign chemicals that reacted negatively with one another. I stood and kicked my desk, sending it sliding three feet, almost tipping over. My monitor fell off the edge of the desk and collided with the floor with a crash.

"Who the hell took him?" I said.

Frank shrugged. "The order came from above me, Jack."

"What does this guy want?" I said. "If what she said is true, and he's the father, then he has the kid. That means he's the one calling me. What's he want with me?"

Frank stepped into my office. He kicked the door closed, then leaned back against it. He said nothing for a long while, stood there, staring at me.

The adrenaline surge faded, and my head cleared. I tried to process the new information logically. There had to be a reason this guy had a hard-on for me.

"I'm going to find out who's heading up the Burnett disappearance," Frank said. "And I'll get Harris and McKenzie involved. If anything, they can provide us with information that the news can't."

"OK," I said.

"I want you to stay in here. Relax. Wait for that next phone call."

"OK."

Frank stepped into the lobby, and then turned abruptly. "And if he calls when I'm not around, don't say a word about what Tammy told us."

I nodded, but he'd already turned away. I reset my desk and sat down behind it. Leaned my head back and somehow managed to fall asleep. A short, shallow sleep that probably did more harm than good.

I woke to the sound of my phone chirping and buzzing. It danced across the laminate desktop. I didn't have to look at the display to know that it would read
unknown caller
. It felt strange to read the words, knowing with ninety percent certainty that the voice on the other end belonged to Burnett. I didn't have to look at the clock to know it was one p.m. Twenty-three hours to go. Till what? Only the unknown caller knew. But I was about to find out. I flipped the phone open and held it up to the side of my face.

"I needn't give you my ominous greeting this time, correct, Mr. Noble?"

I nodded, then felt a bit sheepish, realizing he couldn't see me. "No. That part of our relationship is down pat."

The man laughed for the first time since revealing his voice. It was deep and raspy, from too many years of drinking and smoking, I assumed. I knew the laugh. I'd spent half an hour, at least, with that laugh the night before, sitting at the bar and shooting the breeze. There was no doubt in my mind that the man on the phone was Senator Vernon Burnett.

He stopped laughing and sighed. I had nothing to say, so I waited for him to make the next move.

"The time is now, Jack."

"You're turning the clock ahead?"

He snorted. "No. The time for you to move is now, Jack."

"Move where?"

"I need you to head to Miami."

"What's in Miami?"

"Well…" The man paused a beat too long. "I need you to take care of something down there."

"I'm not going."

"Then the boy dies."

"You're not going to kill the boy."

"I'm not? You a prognosticator now? You want to give me the winning lottery numbers while you're at it?"

I said nothing.

"Jack, you want this kid's blood on your hands?"

I said nothing.

"Miami. Alone. Commercial flight, not one of yours. Leave for the airport now, because I'm going to call you at six p.m. and you better be ready to move again."

I had no choice. The guy had me by the balls. And for the first time in fourteen hours, I was happy about it. He was going to put me in position to take him down. He'd make a mistake. They always did.