State of Siege - Tom Clancy [102]
New York, New York Sunday, 12:16 A.M.
Paul Hood was running through the park when he heard the explosion and saw the flash behind the UN. Since he didn't see or hear shards of glass, he assumed that it was Mike Rodgers blowing the window in. Hood ran ahead hard, watching as the police who had been guarding the lobby entrance hurried around back. By the time Hood arrived, children and delegates were already running out through the shattered window.
They did it, Hood thought proudly. He hoped that Rodgers and August were all right.
Hood was out of breath by the time he reached the courtyard. One of the police officers had run ahead toward First Avenue. He had obviously radioed EMT personnel and wanted to show them where to set their stations up in the parking lot, away from the building. Meanwhile, the other officers were ushering the young women and delegates through the courtyard toward the lot. Everyone was walking under their own power. They appeared relatively unhurt. Hood stopped and watched as they approached. He didn't see Harleigh among them, but he recognized one of her friends, Laura Sabia. He went over to her. "Laura!" he cried.
One of the police officers moved to intercept him. "Excuse me, sir, but you'll have to wait for your daughter-was "She isn't my daughter, officer. I'm Paul Hood of Op-Center in Washington. We organized this rescue." "Congratulations," said the officer, "but I still need you to get out of the area and let us-was "Mr. Hood!" Laura said, stepping out of the line. Hood slid around the police officer. He ran over and took the young girl's hand. "Laura, thank God. Are you all right?"
"I'm okay," she said.
"What about Harleigh?" he asked. "I don't see her." "She's still inside."
Hood felt like he'd been punched hard in the gut. "In there?" he asked. "In the Security Council?"
Laura nodded.
Hood looked into the girl's bloodshot eyes. He didn't like what he saw. "Is she hurt?"
"No," Laura said as she shook her head and started to cry. "But he has her."
"Who does?"
"The man who shot Barbara."
"One of the terrorists?" Hood asked. Laura nodded. Hood didn't wait to hear any more. Releasing Laura's hand and ignoring the officer's shout to stop, he ran toward the terrace.
New York, New York Sunday, 12:18 A.M.
Harleigh's head rose above the back of the seats and stopped. Downer was below the seats, still holding her hair tightly. The girl's face was pale and upturned, her eyes straining from the sides. The tip of the gun barrel was pressed to the back of her head.
Mike Rodgers was at the foot of the gallery, in the center. Because of the steep slope of the rows and the intervening seats, the only target he had was the hostage-taker's left hand. That was too close to Harleigh's neck, and it still left his right hand free, holding the gun. He kept his gun trained on the hand, though he knew that they weren't going to be able to let this go on for very long. The drape would only contain the poison gas for another few minutes. Even if he could get to a gas mask, that wouldn't help Harleigh. August was crawling up the stairs on the north side of the chamber, to Rodgers's right. Though hobbled by the gunshot wounds to his legs and clearly in pain, the colonel had no intention of sitting this out. Behind the terrorist, the UN security agent entered the room cautiously from the back door. That had to be Lieutenant Mailman, the one who briefed Chatterjee after the failed attack on the Security Council.
Suddenly, Rodgers heard a sound behind him. He turned as Hood appeared in the frame of the shattered window. Rodgers motioned him back.
Hood hesitated, but only for a moment. He stepped away, into the darkness of the terrace.
Rodgers faced the gallery and turned his gun back to the terrorist. "Hey, hero!" the terrorist cried. "You see that I have her?" His voice was loud, challenging, uncompromising. They weren't going to be able to bully this man. But Rodgers had another idea. "You see?" the terrorist asked again. "I see," Rodgers said. "And