Executive orders - Tom Clancy [436]
That's his truck. I saw him going in right before this went down.
Shit, Price swore. That's probably the shot we heard.
Yah. Jeffers nodded grimly.
THE PRESIDENT WAS in the Situation Room, the best spot to keep track of things. Perhaps he might have been elsewhere, but he couldn't face his office, and he wasn't President enough to pretend that-
Jack? It was Robby Jackson. He came over as his President stood, but they'd been friends much longer than that, and the two shared an embrace. Been here before, man. It worked out then, too, remember?
We have tag numbers off the cars in the parking lot. Three are rentals. We're running them now, Raman said, a phone to his ear. Should be able to get some kind of ID.
HOW DUMB MIGHT they be? O'Day asked himself. They'd have to be pretty fucking stupid to think they had any chance at all of getting out of here and if they didn't have that hope, then they had nothing to lose not a damned thing and they didn't seem to care about killing. It had happened before, in Israel, Pat remembered. He didn't recall the name or the date, but a couple of terrorists had had a bunch of kids and hosed them before the commandos were able to
He'd taught tactics for every possible situation, or so he'd thought, and would have said as recently as twenty minutes before-but to have your only child next to you
They're all our kids, Dom's voice told him again.
The unhurt killer had Katie Ryan by the upper arm. She was only whimpering now, exhausted from her earlier screams, almost hanging from his hand as the subject stood there to the left of the wounded one. His right hand held the AK. If he'd had a pistol, he could have held that weapon to her head, but the AK was too lengthy for that. Ever so slowly, Inspector O'Day moved his hand down, opening the zipper on his jacket.
They started talking back and forth again. The wounded one was in considerable discomfort. At first, the adrenaline rush had blocked it out, but now things were settling down somewhat, and with the release of tension also went the pain-blocking mechanism that protected the body in periods of great stress. He was saying something, but Pat couldn't tell what it was. The other one snarled a reply, gesturing to the door, speaking with passion and frustration. The scary part would come when they came to a decision. They might just shoot the kids. Those outside would probably rush the building if they heard more than a shot or two. They might be fast enough to save some of the kids, but
He started thinking of them as Hurt and Unhurt. They were pumped up but confused, excited but undecided, wanting to live but coming to the realization that they would not
Hey, uh, guys, Pat said, holding his arms up and moving them to distract them from the open zipper. Can I say something?
What? Hurt demanded, as Unhurt watched.
All these kids you have here, it's like too many to cover, right? he asked, with an emphatic nod to get the idea across. How about I take my little girl out and some of the others, okay? Make things easier for you, maybe?
That generated some more jabbering. The idea actually seemed attractive to Unhurt, or so it appeared to O'Day.
Attention, this is the Secret Service! the voice called yet again. It sounded like Price, the FBI agent thought. Unhurt was looking toward the door, and his body language was leaning him that way, and to get there he had to pass in front of Hurt.
Hey, come on, okay, let some of us go, will ya? O'Day pleaded. Maybe I can tell them to give you a car or something.
Unhurt waved his rifle in the inspector's direction. Stand! he commanded.
Okay, okay, be cool, all right? O'Day stood slowly, keeping his hands well away from his body. Would they see his holster if he turned around? The Service people had spotted it the first time he'd come in, and if he fucked this one up, then Megan there was no turning back. There just wasn't.
You tell them, you tell them they give us car or I kill this one and all the rest!
Let me take my daughter with me, okay?
No! Hurt said.
Unhurt said something in his