Blake must have been giving them a run for their money. Must still be if the bad guys were getting that desperate to kill their only bargaining chips. He smiled at that.
Maybe it was time for Thomas to get in on the action. Because he had to admit there was no way in hell he’d be able to get Alyssa to the ambulance, much less drive anywhere, without killing them both. But maybe there was still something left on this Earth for him to do, one last thing…
He’d had a good run, but Rose, God bless her soul, was waiting for him.
Perhaps now was the time. Whatever happened, he didn’t fear death. Not now.
Thomas knew what to do.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Friday,February 13th, 9:24 P.M.
As Blake enteredthe outpatient wing, he worried someone might come after him. Last thing he wanted was to lead the gunmen to Alyssa and Thomas, so instead of bearing left to the clinic rooms, he turned right to the admin corridor with its empty offices.
He took a moment to aim his light down the hall, making sure there were no major obstacles, but this area had already been stripped bare, even the light fixtures were gone, the corridor complete barren of everything except drywall and linoleum.
Light off, moving through the dark, he hadn’t gone far when the sound of soft footfalls made him freeze. Behind him. Someone skilled enough that they’d come through the double doors silently.
He clutched his pistol tight as he slipped into an empty office, back pressed against the wall. The footsteps approached. Blake held his breath. The guy was good, but the smarter play would’ve been to use a light, not play pussy-foot. Maybe the guy didn’t have the training to know how to use a tactical light without making himself a target? Maybe he enjoyed feeling like a predator, stalking his prey. If so, he was about to have the tables turned on him.
Suddenly, the intercom in the ceiling above came to life. “To the intruder…”
Blake’s gut twisted with fury as the hostage taker finished his threat. But his pursuer, now just inches away, outside the door to the room where Blake hid, had another reaction. He whooped, leaping high to rattle the intercom speaker.
“Way to go, Mercer. Didn’t think you had it in you, man.” He continued down the hallway before Blake could jump him. But with that comment, condemning innocent civilians to a needless death, the man cemented his fate.
Blake was going to kill him.
He followed, tracking the man by sound alone.
A fine plan. Until Blake lost him. He backtracked and realized the man had turned down one of the short hallways that intersected with the abandoned section where Alyssa and Thomas were hiding.
Dammit. He needed to get ahead of the man, block his path to Alyssa and Thomas.
Blake slipped through a side door into the first office, as barren as the rest of the admin corridor, taking careful steps to avoid making any noise. His senses were on high alert, every misplaced footstep on the grimy floor was a potential threat to expose his position.
He slipped through the series of interconnected offices, ready to spring into action at any moment, pausing at each doorway, straining his ears for any sound of the gunman.
Then he ran out of offices, reaching the final connecting corridor. He turned toward the clinic hallway. Alyssa and Thomas were only three rooms away.
A muffled cry sounded through the darkness.
Alyssa. His stomach dropped. He was too late.
Avoiding the debris he’d noted earlier, he closed in to the only room with light streaming out. Through the partially open door, he caught sight of the gunman, silhouetted by the Maglite’s beam. The man loomed over Alyssa, who lay pale and still on the gurney. Thomas was nowhere to be seen.
Blake’s grip tightened on his pistol. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He had to act fast, but one wrong move could put Alyssa in even more danger.
He stepped forward toward the doorway, his foot skated slightly on a worn linoleum section, releasing a tiny squeak.
Shit.
The man turned away from Alyssa and looked directly at Blake. Perched on the top of his head were night vision goggles—one mystery answered.
But the most important thing, the thing Blake’s mind, his entire body, was totally focused on, was that the man had the muzzle of his semiautomatic resting against Alyssa’s temple.
“Join the party,” he said in a tone that held both humor and threat. AKA psycho. Figured.
