The Redeemed (25 page)

“Are you asking me if I’m okay with whatever Sarah’s doing here?” Parkman said.

Aaron nodded. “The guy’s insane. According to Sarah, he’s strapped with explosives and he’s on his way here. All we’ve got is a gun taped to the bottom of this IV stand and Sarah, who,” he looked down at her, “sorry, no offense, is in no condition to fight.”

“Aaron, whatever Sarah says is the way we do it. She knows if things go south, she’ll have to own it. And she will. Sarah’s got the advantage of being able to listen to the other side. In my opinion, it’s Sarah’s way or walk away. If it doesn’t fly, we all die.”

“Cute. Nice rhyme.” He looked back at Sarah. “I guess I just hate being a part of it when you’re also going into action.”

“It never gets any better, Aaron. One day you’ll have to fully accept what I do.”

“I do. That’s why we’ve lasted so long.”

“Then what’s this? Why stop us at such a crucial moment?”

“Crawl back into that bed and rest. Let us handle this. If Father Adams is here, then we’ll deal with him.”

“Not going to happen. It’s me he wants. I have to be the one. If you don’t want to help, step aside. Parkman, push this damn wheelchair. Let’s go.”

They waited another heartbeat. Then Aaron got behind the chair and pushed her to the door. Parkman opened the door and peered outside the room to make sure the way was clear.

Sarah knew both men so well. Parkman had to stand back and let Aaron work through the insecurities he felt towards the violent life Sarah willingly walked into. Aaron had to own his decision or walk away, and neither Sarah nor Parkman would ever mother him on that. He had to man up, make the choice and keep on making it until he knew, deep within himself, how his relationship with Sarah was always going to be.

She wanted to marry this man one day and she couldn’t have him always running after her trying to protect her. That just wouldn’t do.

In the corridor, Aaron turned the chair to the left and started down the hall. They waited by the elevators, adrenaline pumping through Sarah’s body, minimizing some of her minor aches.

When the doors opened, Aaron pulled Sarah back to let a nurse wheel an empty gurney off, then they got on.

Moments later, on the main floor, Aaron turned her to the right, Parkman walking beside her, pushing the IV stand.

“Stop,” Sarah said.

They stopped and Parkman stepped forward, scanning the people in the corridor.

“What is it?” he asked.

“We’re going the wrong way.”

“No, we’re not,” he said. “That’s the east side of the building.”

“Turn me around. Go to the west side.”

Aaron stepped around to the front of the chair and exchanged a look with Parkman. “Sarah, you told Hirst to go to the east side. What gives?”

“I know what I said. But as you recall, I also said it was pretty hard to remember everything. I said I was
pretty sure
it was the east wing.” She met his eyes and stared at him. “I was wrong. It’s the west wing. Go now and go fast. Hirst’s life depends on it.”

Aaron jumped behind Sarah and turned her around. He walked briskly down the hallway, dodging slow-moving patients and gurneys.

“I don’t think you’re going fast enough,” Sarah said. “We have less than a minute to get set up by the door in the stairwell that leads outside.”

Parkman ran ahead to clear a path.

Aaron pushed faster.

Chapter 43

Hirst got in his car and left the driver’s side door open. The Los Angeles heat had pasted his shirt to his back. Inside the car, the heat was worse, soaking his shirt through with sweat.

He sat in the front seat while he asked for backup at the hospital. He lied, saying there had been sightings of Father Adams in and around the building.

“You better be right about this, Sarah,” he whispered to himself.

Two units were dispatched.

Now he needed to locate two doctors and have them come to the door on the east side of the hospital. As far as Hirst knew, there would be several doors over there.

He slammed his car door shut and after hitching up his pants, started across the parking lot, eager to get back inside the air conditioned building.

A BMW cruised through the rows of cars, looking for a spot. Waiting for Father Adams to show himself, Hirst slowed to let the car go by and watched as it parked in the row in front of him. He started walking again, going in between the BMW and a four-door Buick.

The BMW’s door opened. Hirst looked back as the female driver pushed her hair behind her ears and then reached in to collect something else on the passenger seat. No one else was in the car. He turned back around, about to cross a grassy median, when the woman screamed.

Hirst spun back.

Father Adams, sans hat, stood behind him. His open black jacket exposed a series of tubes strapped to his abdomen. He aimed a gun at Hirst from two feet away. Hirst had been so focused on the BMW driver that he hadn’t detected Adams creeping up behind him.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” Adams said. “You’re not the one I’m interested in.”

“Then I’ll be on my way. I’ve come to see my grandmother at the hospital. She’s broken a hip.”

“Bullshit.” Sweat dripped into Adams’ eyes. He blinked it away.

The driver of the BMW had gotten back in the driver’s seat. She turned the car on, dropped it in reverse and backed away. Father Adams didn’t budge.

“You’re here to see Sarah Roberts.” Adams smiled. “I have no idea how she got everyone out of that church. I’ll have to ask when I see her.”

Hirst thought of his gun and cursed Sarah. Why had she been so adamant to disarm him? What could she have been thinking?

“Aren’t you done yet? When will it over?”

“I’m done when the woman who killed my brother is done.”

“So what’s the plan?” Hirst asked. “You gonna blow yourself up?”

“Where’s Sarah?”

“Probably halfway home by now.”

“You’re lying. I called. I know she’s in there.” He gestured with his head toward the hospital. Then he lowered the gun to his waist, keeping the barrel pointed at Hirst. “Remove your weapon.”

Maybe that’s why Sarah took it.

Hirst showed his empty holster. “Don’t have one on me.”

“Bullshit. Guys like you always carry a gun. You must have an ankle holster.”

Hirst raised his foot slowly, displayed his naked ankle, no holster. Then he repeated it for the other foot.

“I don’t carry when visiting my grandmother at the hospital. Upsets her.”

“You want to continue with that story, do you?”

“You don’t expect to just walk into this hospital with all their security, take the elevator to Sarah’s room and blow everything up, do you?”

“No. But you can.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Turn around. Start walking. You’ll lead the way. As we get close to the doors and people are milling around, I will hide my gun. Anything you do other than walk me directly to Sarah’s room gets you killed. Once I’m with Sarah, I will empty my clip and give you my gun. I will give you two minutes to clear the area of doctors and nurses before I set this off.”

“What makes you think I will help you kill Sarah?”

“Because you, like every man, have a strong sense of self-preservation. You won’t risk me pushing this button while I’m beside you. I’m dead already. Let me go and take that nuisance with me. I’ll be out of your hair. Sarah, someone you barely know, will be gone, too. It’ll all be officially over and you can go back to your life.”

Sarah wanted two doctors to come to the side door in the east wing. She said Father Adams would show up and Sarah had his weapon. Everything had been right so far. He had everything to lose by trying to be the hero and everything to gain by doing what Sarah had asked.

“Okay, fine,” Hirst said. “We’ll play it your way. But we don’t walk in the main doors or even the emergency doors. There are too many people in both areas and there’ll be security. If one guard recognizes your face, it’ll all end fast and I don’t want to go out like that.”

Adams smiled, showing white teeth. “Fabulous idea. Turn around and start walking.”

Hirst did as he was told. Once they past the grassy median, they started across a wide area of cement where ambulances came and went and headed toward the east access with Hirst in the lead.

Sarah would be there waiting for them. But what then? Get his gun back? Hirst couldn’t shoot Adams for fear of setting off the bomb strapped to his chest. Hirst’s focus had to be the bomb. Whether any of them lived through this or not, keeping that bomb from going off inside the hospital had to be the priority.

As he angled toward the east side of the massive building, with a plan to keep to the less populated areas, something nagged at him. Something Sarah had said.

What the hell was it?

“Hey,” Adams said.

Hirst slowed, then stopped. “What is it?”

“Go the other way.”

“What way?” Hirst half turned to look at him. “The doors are right up there. Then I’ll take you to Sarah’s room.”

Adams shook his head. “No. We do it my way.”

“I thought we
were
doing it your way.”

“Sarah can see things. She’s some kind of precog. You’re too determined for me. You didn’t want the front doors. You immediately wanted the east side of the building. Even if Sarah’s not involved in some way, I don’t like it.”

“What are you talking about? You think Sarah and I talked about you coming here? If that was the case, why didn’t she tell a SWAT team to be waiting for you? Or a sniper in a tree? No, I’m taking you into the hospital because you’ve kidnapped me. I’m doing what you asked because I have no other choice.”

“Me doth think he protests too much.” Adams winked at him. “Start walking to the doors on the west side. It’s either that or I’ll kill you here and go to the front desk. Maybe they will listen to my little gun.”

Hirst couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t take Adams to the west side when Sarah would be waiting for him, with his gun, at the door fifty yards away.

Father Adams clicked the safety to the off position on his weapon.

“That was the sound of time,” he said. “You’re almost out of it.”

Hirst had no choice. He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t die so pointlessly. All because he didn’t want to walk to another door. There had to be more to life, to the universe, than dying because of a door choice.

He put one foot in front of the other and led Father Adams toward the west side doors, the whole time trying to figure out what else Sarah had told him. It was something to think about or something to remember.

What the hell was it?

Chapter 44

At the end of the corridor there was a slight jog and then the double doors on the west side of the hospital opened to a sunny afternoon.

“Now what?” Parkman asked.

“Tip me over.”

“What?” Aaron nearly shouted.

“No questions! I need you to do it now. We’ve got thirty seconds or less.”

Aaron and Parkman eased her wheelchair over until she rested sideways on the floor.

“Push me closer to the doors.”

They complied.

“Now wheel my IV stand over here.”

Aaron brought it over.

“Lay it down with the bag at my end, the gun near the wall.”

“But you won’t be able to reach it there.”

“It isn’t for me. No more delays. We’re almost out of time.” She pointed down the hall. “That stretcher two doors up. Bring it over here.”

Parkman did as he was told, running back so fast with the stretcher that he almost ran into Sarah on the floor. She pulled the sheets down intending to cover her face.

“Now. Both of you need to disappear. I’ll be dead if either of you are seen. Get around that corner and keep people away from here for a couple of minutes. When a gun goes off, come running. Bring doctors, too.”

“You can’t be serious,” Aaron said. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Go now or you’ll get me killed.”

Parkman grabbed Aaron’s arm and twisted him around. “Dammit, Aaron. Love her another day. Listen to her now. Let’s go.”

Normally Aaron could’ve broken the hand that grabbed him before he got fully turned around. She was proud that he trusted Parkman enough to not lash out. She also adored how much he loved her, but times like this, he needed to listen to her.

It always seemed to come back to the same old question of acceptance. Aaron has said that he accepts her, but his actions tell another story. His internal struggle saddened her. Love and protect her by not letting her enter the cage to fight the tiger on her own was programmed into a man like Aaron. It was like trying to teach a rugged bear hunter who lived off the land to enter culinary school in order to be a chef in a fancy New York restaurant. Not impossible, but not likely to happen.