Out of the Black - Lee Doty [141]
The third person in the room was dropping his hand from a communicator at his throat and using the other hand to bring an assault gun to bear on Ping. All three wore no uniform, preferring instead dark, sturdy-looking street clothes. They wore no badges, they didn't seem like cops or SWAT. Their overall impression was military, perhaps mercenaries. They looked a lot like the nice folks from the library archive.
One of the two at the window batted his goggles off his face and dropped into a roll trying to bring his gun to bear on Ping. No one had paid the slightest attention to Ping's 'Freeze', except the woman who kept her weapon covering the OR below, though Ping was pretty sure she was covering, not complying.
Oh well.
Ping fired a five round burst into the one on his feet, four toward the roller, four more, then three more after he stopped moving just to be sure. The one by the window was definitely not complying now. Merciless face set like stone, her rifle left the lip of the window and tracked toward him, already firing. A line of holes appeared in the wall to his right, tearing toward him. Ping jumped left and fired another burst. The last attacker was knocked into the wall. She slumped to the floor.
"Share how that makes you feel." He said, disgust in his voice. Internally, revulsion and the warm feeling of a job well done warred for possession of his heart. He tossed both feelings aside... work to do.
He might not have been the most effective counselor, but he was smoking good at this. Maybe his dad was right... stay close to your talents.
***
Hawthorne's eyes spasmed shut at the sound of what she was sure was that "final gunfire" everyone in law enforcement fears. She was marginally surprised that she heard more than the first burst, but it did make sense that they would go for Anne first. There were six overlapping bursts, then silence.
After another few seconds, she opened her eyes again. The world had stayed essentially the same as when she'd closed them. The hospital staff still huddled, Anne still looked dazed, Hawthorne's own blood continued to pool around her. There was one difference though- the assault guns that had been covering them from the window above were gone.
Then two things happened essentially at once. A little Asian guy in a biker jacket appeared in the window above with an assault gun at the ready, and the OR doors burst open to reveal a very appealing uniformed cop. What were the chances that this was an actual cop? Not the pawn-in-a-vast-conspiracy-type, but just someone here to serve and/or protect them like real cops would. Looking at the cop's non-issue fletcher, Hawthorne didn't feel hopeful.
Anne's head snapped back and forth from the window to the door with the speed of a parakeet on amphetamines, but then she made no further moves. She had a look somewhere between expectation and resignation.
"Everyone okay here?" The man from above shouted down in a friendly but uncertain voice.
Hawthorne wasn't sure she hadn't imagined that last part. The world went black.
The perky little cop with the fletcher eyed Anne with clear uncertainty. Her gaze started out hard, like shoot-you-or-not hard, eyes moving from Anne's face to the severed arm she carried and back. Finally, the cop's eyes lapsed back into caution tempered by empathy. At this point, Anne realized that she was still crying. No more screaming, but the water works had not disengaged.
"You okay, Ma'am?" Rae asked without lowering the fletcher. She was really hoping she didn't have to put this woman down... she just looked so sad. She wondered if she was the source of the terrible screaming she'd heard from the hall. She didn't dare take her eyes off the big woman with the hard eyes and sad face, but her peripheral vision slowly began to process the rest of the scene. Radiating away from the woman was a blast pattern of corpses. It looked like an explosion had gone off right where she stood. Behind her