Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (30 page)

“They’re
dead.” He sucked in a breath. “And it’s my fault.”

Reading
continued to pace in front of the window they weren’t allowed to open. “This
won’t end,” he said, suddenly stopping and whirling toward the group. “This
will never end until they’re taken out.”

Laura
lifted her head. “But who is
they
?”

“I don’t
know, but there’s one way to find out.”

Acton
lifted his head, staring up at his friend. “How?”

“Pay
them a bloody visit and get our hands on one of them.”

Laura
sat up. “Is that even legal?”

Reading
shrugged. “No, but we’re long past that now. And something tells me they’re not
going to go crying to the police if we do take one of them.”

Acton leapt
to his feet, filling his lungs with false courage, his need to do something
outweighing his need to act carefully. “Then let’s go. I’m done sitting
around.”

Verde
stepped forward. “I can’t let you leave.”

Acton
walked toward the man and stopped inches from his face.

“Just
try to stop me.”

He felt
Laura’s hand on his shoulder.

“Try to
stop
us.
”

West Pratt Street, Baltimore, Maryland

Kane gently rolled Sherrie over onto her back, the elevator creaking
with the shift in mass.

She
moaned.

Oh,
thank God!

“Are you
okay?”

She
moaned again and he quickly began an inspection for broken bones or wounds.

Nothing.

She
coughed, a burst of pulverized drywall dust erupting from her mouth.

She
opened her eyes. “What happened?”

“An
explosion took out the penthouse level. Just stay still, this whole thing could
drop at any moment.”

Fang
coughed then rolled over, wiping a hand over her face. He reached over and took
her hand. “Just stay still. Let me check you over.” He quickly did an
assessment and found her clear as well.

He
looked at where his partners had been lying and his admiration of them grew.
They had thrown themselves over the elderly Actons, shielding them from falling
debris.

Incredible.

Fang
pushed herself up to a sitting position as Kane rolled Mrs. Acton onto her
back, her breathing shallow but steady.

She
must have fainted.

He
checked Acton’s father for a pulse then frowned.

Nothing.

He
searched again then held his hand to the man’s face.

Again
nothing.

“He’s
not breathing. I’ve got to start CPR. Hang on.”

He
rolled the man over and the elevator creaked in protest then slipped, knocking
him off his knees.

“Christ,
we’ve got to get out of here.” He motioned toward the doors. “See if you can
get those open.”

He began
chest compressions, each pump seeming to piss the elevator off more, as the
others pulled at the doors. Suddenly Dorothy Acton gasped, sitting upright.
“What happened?” Then she saw Kane working on her husband and cried out. “Oh my
God! Eli! Are you okay?” She climbed to her knees and the elevator slipped
again. She screamed, Kane reaching over and grabbing her by the shoulder.

“Stay
perfectly still.”

She
nodded, instead clasping her hands together and beginning to pray silently, her
eyes glued on her husband’s unresponsive face.

As he
continued compressions, he glanced behind him to see the inner doors open, a
piece of debris wedged into the frame to keep them in place. He turned back to
his patient. “What do you see?”

“We’re
about halfway between levels. I’m going to try and climb up.”

“No, if
this slips you’ll be cut in half.”

Sherrie
pounded on the bottom of the outer doors. “Help us! We’re in the elevator!” She
pounded again then stopped, everyone listening.

There
were shouts then pounding on the other side. “Anyone in there?”

“Yes,
yes we’re in here! We need help. Someone’s had a heart attack!”

“Just a
second!” called the muffled voice and Kane looked over his shoulder to see the
outer doors opening.

“Let me
take a look,” said a second voice, sticking his head in, “I’m a doctor.” He saw
Kane continuing chest compressions. “Okay, I’m coming in.”

Kane
held up a hand, stopping him. “No, it’s too dangerous. The whole thing could
fall with the extra weight.”

The man
nodded, pulling his head out. “Are you trained?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,
keep doing what you’re doing. The fire department just arrived, I’ll get a
portable defibrillator down to you.”

Kane
continued, Fang checking for a pulse and shaking her head.

The
elevator shook, everything rattling like an earthquake, then there was a
snapping sound overhead and they dropped several more feet, the outer doors
disappearing. Kane glanced up through the hatch and couldn’t see any cables
holding them.

It
must be just the brakes now.

He
continued his compressions, alternating with mouth-to-mouth.

But
if they were damaged…

Shouts
from above had him looking again and he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a firefighter
being lowered, a portable defibrillator strapped to his chest. He came to rest
just above the elevator and lowered the kit inside. Sherrie reached up and
grabbed it, quickly unpacking it as Kane continued his work.

“Do you
know how to use that?” asked the firefighter.

Kane glanced
up and nodded. “Yes.” He ripped his patient’s shirt open and he and Sherrie,
also trained, stuck the pads into position as the machine powered up. It beeped
and Kane removed his hands.

“Clear!”

Sherrie
pressed the button and Ellsworth shook. Kane checked the machine.

Still a
flat line.

“Hit him
again.”

The
machine beeped its readiness, and again he was shocked, his body flopping like
a fish on the dock.

And
nothing.

Kane
closed his eyes, not willing to give up, though knowing there was no point in
continuing. But the doc wouldn’t want him to stop. “Again,” he whispered,
Sherrie nodding.

“Clear.”

A zap
and again, nothing.

Then
there was a beep.

Kane
leaned over and looked at the machine. Another beep. And then another, the display
beginning to show a heartbeat, the rate quickly climbing from five beats, to
twenty to sixty, the rhythm steady.

“We’ve
got a heartbeat!” he shouted. Sherrie hugged him and Dorothy collapsed on top
of her husband, hugging him and kissing him, her sobs of relief shaking the
entire car.

“Okay,
we’re going to secure you from above. Try to keep still!”

Ellsworth’s
eyes flickered open and he inhaled deeply.

“Get off
me, woman.”

Dorothy
lifted herself up, the joy in her face obvious as she put her hand on his
cheek. “Y-you gave us quite the sc-scare.”

He
returned the caress. “It’s okay, I’m fine. No kidnappers or exploding buildings
or collapsing elevators are going to kill me.” Dorothy laughed, sniffing.
“It’ll be all those damned apple pies you keep baking. Do you see any apple
pies?”

Dorothy
gently slapped his cheek. “No.”

“Then
I’m not going to die, am I?”

Kane
smiled, turning away to give the old married couple as much privacy as was
possible, leaving him to wonder what it would be like to have someone is his
life that cared about him that much. He found himself staring at Fang as she watched
the couple, a slight smile on her face, her mouth open slightly. She caught him
and her smile broadened.

Then she
looked quickly away.

Maybe
one day?

Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Leroux paced in front of the displays, no one daring stare, no one
wanting to say anything to him, status reports being provided to Morrison who
had wisely stepped in to take over. Nobody would blame him for losing it. It
wasn’t a failure to care about someone. His reaction was exactly why he was
never supposed to have been put in that situation in the first place.

Yet it
had happened, and now everyone was waiting for word from Kane, there nothing
for almost ten minutes.

The
longest ten minutes in his life.

“Sir!”

Sonya
looked at Leroux then Morrison, then back at Leroux. “It’s Agent White!”

Leroux bounded
toward her station, his hand extended. She handed him her headset and he fit it
around his ears. “Hon, are you okay?”

“Hey,
baby, we’re fine, we’re all fine.”

Leroux
collapsed to his knees, turning around and sitting on the floor. “Oh thank God!
We all thought you were dead.”

“I’m
not, so you can stop your worrying.”

He
smiled, the tears of joy rolling down his cheeks suddenly reminding him that he
wasn’t the only one hanging on by a thread. “Are Professor Acton’s parents
okay?”

“Yes.
Mr. Acton had a heart attack but Dylan got his heart going again. He’s being
taken to the hospital now.”

Leroux
pushed himself to his feet, snapping his fingers at Child. “Get word to
Professor Acton that his parents are okay.”

Child
nodded and Leroux looked at Morrison, his boss giving him a nod and removing
his headset.

Control
had been returned.

Leroux
smiled at him slightly and Morrison left the room, the exact message Leroux
needed to be sent at this moment.

You
have his confidence.

“Okay,
hon, I’ve got to let you go. Call me when you’re secure.”

“I will.
Love you.”

“Love
you too.”

He hit
the button, killing the call and turned to Therrien. “What’s the status on our
other situation?”

“Retrieval
team is inbound, ETA less than ten minutes.” Therrien pointed at the screen.
“We just got eyes on target.”

Leroux
looked at the display, a quiet suburban street with little activity.

Except
one car sitting with a hot engine and two occupants, almost directly in front
of their target’s house.

Leroux
shook his head.

Either
it’s an awkward teenage post-date moment, or someone is up to no good.

Milton Residence, St. Paul, Maryland

“Daddy, no!”

Milton
picked up his daughter, there no longer time to deal with her childish protests
at having been woken. He grabbed her green Froggie and stuck it in her hands,
she immediately hugging it tight. His back spasmed and he leaned back with a
hiss, grasping at it with his free hand.

“Let me
take her.” His wife took Niskha and grabbed the overnight bag she had packed,
heading for the garage.

“You
drive, my back’s too sore. I don’t think I’d be able to do any quick maneuvers
if I had to.”