Odin himself, Jack. No one has been able to identify him, and Will probably saw him that night.” According to the only survivor of the botched raid, Odin had been there in the thick of it, had planned to fly the plane out.
“Whether it’s him or not, we’re still dealing with a trained assassin.”
“I saw his face,” she told Jack.
He snapped to attention at that. “I was in a crouch to fire, and the nurse blocked my view. By the time she fell, he was gone. You made eye contact? He knows you saw him?”
Holly nodded again. They stared at each other then, he with concern, she with confirmation of what they both knew. They were definitely dealing with a professional killer, and Holly had just made his list. Will was already at the top of it. Even Jack was at risk. He hadn’t seen the man’s face, but how could the killer be certain of that?
“We’ve got to get you out of here,” Jack said.
“Correction,” she said with a shake of her head and a worried glance at Will, who was either sleeping peacefully or had lapsed back into his coma. “We’ve all got to get out of here. Now. We’re sitting ducks. This guy could have reinforcements stationed out there, just waiting for us to exit.”
Jack already had out his cellphone. He punched in a number and held the device to his ear. “Option three, Corda. Asap. And bring Solange,” he snapped, then disconnected. It spoke of how secure this escape was to be that Jack planned to involve his wife, Solange, who was a physician.
The team had worked out plans to cover all contingencies. Holly knew that the third option involved a helicopter on the roof of wing three, four floors up from where they were now.
He put the phone in his pocket. “I’ll get hospital security to help transport Will.” They would both need to provide cover in case the perp had gone upstairs instead of down. “You get him unhooked.”
Jack hurried out into the hallway while Holly returned to the bed. Will, eyes still closed, was already fumbling with the tape holding his IV in place. She took over and slid the shunt out of his vein, pressing the area with a tissue to halt the bleeding.
Ice? Had he said the word or had she imagined it? She snatched the top off the plastic pitcher on his bedside table and dipped her hand inside. Tepid water.
She punched the call button. “Get me some ice in here. Hurry!”
“In a moment, ma’am. We have an emer—”
“Don’t you make me come out there with my gun!” Holly shouted.
Will’s lips curved and his body shook slightly.
“You laughing at me, possum? Open those baby grays and look at me.”
“Can’t see,” he grumbled, trying to clear his throat.
“Course you can. You looked straight at me and Jack, too,” she argued. “You want sympathy, dude, you’re fresh out of luck.”
But one look at the pained expression on his face stole her breath. “What do you mean, you can’t see?”
“Fuzzy,” he said, exhaling a rattle of air. “Damn near blind.”
“You’ll be okay,” she assured him, pressing even harder on the tissue. “Now quit bleeding all over the place, will you? I need both hands.”
A nurse rushed in carrying another small disposable pitcher. “Here’s your ice. Wait! What are you doing? You can’t do that!” She attempted to stop Holly’s efforts to peel the machine sensors off Will’s body.
Holly grabbed her wrist and shook it. “Help me get him unhooked. And close your mouth, girl, you look like a fish. Do what I say.”
“But you can’t—”
Holly shot her a warning look. The nurse got busy.
“There. All done. You can go now.” Holly watched the nurse scurry out. “Little wimp,” she muttered.
Mercier came in, a gurney and security guard in tow. “Let’s move!” He quickly lowered the side rail of the bed and the guard brought the gurney alongside. In seconds, the two of them had Will loaded on it and were wheeling him down the hall.
Holly took point, on full alert for surprises at each room they passed on the way to the elevator. When it dinged and the door slid open, she crouched and swept the interior, even thought about putting two or three rounds through the roof in case someone was up top. Doubtful there had been time for that, she aimed her weapon at the overhead panel instead, prepared to riddle it.
Slow motion took on a whole new meaning as the elevator rose to the top floor. When they exited into the night air, they still had to wait for the chopper. Holly remained by Will’s side, as vigilant as she had ever been, while Mercier quickly swept the roof area.
He returned, declared it clear and dismissed the beefy guard who had come up with them. “Thanks, Charlie. I owe you for volunteering. I won’t forget it.”
“No problem. Safe trip,” the big man said with a toothy grin. “Ma’am. Take care.” He turned at the doorway to the roof. “I’ll just wait here till the chopper comes and you lift off. Ain’t nothin’ getting past me.” He stationed himself against the heavy metal door and crossed his arms.
Mercier had that effect, Holly knew. He inspired dedication. That’s why he was the boss. Apparently even incidental helpers weren’t immune to his charm.
Will groaned, drawing her attention.
“Damn it! I should have thought to get him some pain meds.” She slapped the heel of her hand against her forehead.
“Here you go,” Mercier said. He fished in his pocket and handed her a plastic pill bottle. “Morphine. I’ll have to shoulder him into the chopper.” There would be no room for the gurney or even a stretcher.
Holly opened the bottle, scooped out a capsule and held it to Will’s mouth. “Swallow this.”
“No,” he said, his voice sounding stronger. “Later.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Take the pill.” She poked it between his lips.
The instant she moved her fingers away, he popped it out. “No.”
Holly shook her head with frustration. “Those nurses don’t know how lucky they are to get rid of you now that you’re awake. Don’t make me hold your nose.”
His eyes closed, probably against the bright lights now descending. “Later,” he mouthed, his murmur drowned out by the whump whump of the chopper overhead.
She leaned over Will to shield him from the wash of the blades as the helicopter set down.
Mercier lifted Will to a sitting position, then did a shoulder carry to the open door of the helicopter. Joe Corda, fellow agent and man of many talents who was piloting, gave them a thumbs-up.
Dr. Solange Mercier, Jack’s wife, was crouched in the small bay waiting for the patient. She beckoned, and Holly hurriedly climbed in, helping
