The Target. Kay David

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СКАЧАТЬ who had responded confirmed the caller’s story. In the alleyway, leaning against the rear entry of the center, was a shoe-box-size container. Wrapped in stained brown paper, the unlabeled, lopsided package definitely looked suspicious.

      “Everyone’s out?”

      LaCroix looked at Hannah as if she’d lost her mind. “Yes, Hannah. Everyone’s been evacuated.”

      Quinn spoke. “Have you X-rayed yet?”

      “There’s not enough room to get the machine in there.”

      “So Arnold’s too big, too.”

      LaCroix nodded at Quinn’s assessment of the robot they used. “Way too big. Our mini’s out of service and the four-by-four won’t fit. The alley’s less than three feet wide.” A pained look crossed LaCroix’s face. “We can’t ray it and we can’t bring the damn thing out.”

      “How about BIPing it?”

      LaCroix shook his head at Mark’s idea. “We blow that puppy in place, and the shit’ll hit the fan.” He jerked a thumb toward the back of the building. “There’s low-income housing behind that fence. The mayor would have a cow.”

      Everyone’s stress level increased. “Have they been evacuated, too?”

      He nodded at Hannah’s question.

      “Then we’ll have to try the PAN,” Bobby said. “It’s all we’ve got left.”

      Bobby was a specialist with the bomb disrupter. The device fired a variety of projectiles and was designed to disarm bombs without detonation. So far, they’d had no luck with it on any of Mr. Rogers’s bombs.

      “I don’t think we can get it in there, either. The damn alley is so full of trash and crap—” Before LaCroix could continue, a minor riot seemed to break out near the perimeter of the cordoned-off area, then someone screamed—a piercing shriek that sent a sharp chill down Hannah’s spine. She turned in time to see a black woman in a flowered housedress push past a uniformed officer, her face contorted with agony.

      Mark cursed again, and Hannah cut her eyes to Quinn. He was staring, too, but of all the people there, he would know what to do. He was great at his job, but he was even better with people. His ability to connect with them amazed her; Hannah would rather deal with a live bomb than an upset civvie.

      The woman half ran, half stumbled to where they stood. Quinn stepped out to meet her and she collapsed in his arms, tears and sweat streaming down her face, her words coming so fast they were unintelligible. Hannah stood by helplessly, the same way, she imagined, Bobby felt as he looked on, his dark eyes rounded with concern for the clearly distraught woman.

      “My babies!” the woman screamed, clutching Quinn’s arm. She jerked a trembling hand toward the center. “My grandbabies are in there! They’re in there! They’re gonna be blowed up—”

      Quinn’s voice was low and calm. “We got everyone out, ma’am. The children have all been evacuat—”

      “No-o-o-o,” she cried. “They didn’t get ’em. They forgot they were there. They didn’t count ’em when they brought the rest of ’em out! Charles Junior and Sister. They forgot ’em both!”

      Bobby sucked in an audible breath as Hannah felt her stomach constrict, a hot sickness suddenly turning her inside out. Above his beard, Mark’s face actually paled.

      Quinn held the woman’s arm and spoke gently. “Are you sure, ma’am? Are you positive they didn’t just slip out—”

      “Yes, I’m sure!” She flapped her hand behind her and the four of them looked over her shoulder. Another woman, this one younger and better dressed, stood by the uniform, obviously arguing with him. “Ask her! She’s the one done left ’em there!”

      Quinn called out and motioned to the cop to let the woman through. She ran to them, then spoke breathlessly, her eyes full of fright. “Two of the children are missing! We counted all of them twice, but Louetta—” she nodded toward the older woman in the flowered dress “—she came in late and I forgot to log them in.” She shivered visibly in the cool January sun, her fingers knotting together. “They must have hidden when we left.”

      “How old are they?”

      When Hannah asked the question, the woman glanced at her in a daze. “Charles Junior—he’s five—and Sister.” She gulped. “Sister’s only two. She does everything he does. He—he probably told her they were playing a game or something and they hid. They’ve done it before.”

      “Where do they go?”

      She turned back to Quinn, her eyes swimming with guilt and fear. “Th—there’s a closet by the back…back door. They like to climb inside. It’s where we keep the nap pads and blankets.” She started to shake, then she gathered herself with a visible effort and reached out to clutch at Quinn’s arm. “You’ve got to go in there, mister. You’ve got to go in there and save those babies.”

      LACROIX SENT FOR ONE of his team members. She came quickly and led the two women away, making sounds of sympathy and doing her best to calm them. As they stumbled off, even more tension filled the space where they’d been, narrowing the choices the team had of how to proceed. Everything had changed. It was one thing when a building could suffer damage—it was a different situation when lives were at stake. Especially children’s lives.

      Bobby spoke first. “I’ll go. This—”

      Quinn interrupted. “No.” His voice was firmer than usual and both of them knew why. “I’ll do it.”

      “C’mon, man,” Bobby persisted. “I know the area. I think I can get the PAN in there and then—”

      “No. I’ll go and get the kids, then I’ll decide how to proceed.”

      Quinn felt the curious looks from Hannah and Baker as his authoritative words registered, but he couldn’t take the time to explain. He hurried toward the SUV.

      Hannah caught up with him as he swung open the back door. She grabbed his arm. “Let me go, Quinn! Those kids won’t leave that place with a man. I’d have a much better chance—”

      “No way.” He pushed aside his heavy protective suit. It took too long to get into. He’d throw on his SRS-5—a lighter outfit—and hope for the best. “They won’t know the difference once I’ve got on the helmet.”

      “This is crazy, Quinn,” she cried. “You can’t just crash in there—”

      “But you can?” His fingers found his jacket and he turned to her, holding it out so she could help him into it. She responded automatically, and he stiffened his arms as she put the coat on him, the protector hard against his spine, a trickle of sweat already rolling down his back.

      She buckled him in and he saw that her hands were trembling. “We haven’t done enough recon yet—”

      “Hannah, for God’s sake! We don’t have the time for that.” He plucked his helmet from the rear of the SUV, gave the plastic shield a swipe, then thrust it on his head. “We’ve got to get those kids first. Then we’ll proceed.”

      “No,” СКАЧАТЬ