“Be ready,” he whispered into his mic. He slipped his knife from the scabbard on his belt and crept up behind the man on the corner. He was almost on him when another bison loped out in front of the guard, capturing the man’s attention.
T-Rex grabbed the guard by his boots, yanked him backward, out of sight of his counterpart, and slammed his head into the side of the building. The man fell limp to the ground.
T-Rex removed the bolt from his weapon and tied the guard’s wrists with his own belt. Then he shoved the man’s ski mask into his mouth. He didn’t have much time.
A door on the side of the building gave him hope, until he tried it. It was locked. He shoved his knife between the door and the frame and jiggled it. He’d never unlocked a door like this before, but now would be the time to figure it out, since he was fresh out of hairpins or nail files.
He held his breath and jiggled the knife again. The lock sprang free, and the door swung open into a storage area stacked with boxes. Based on what Garner had briefed, the theater was on the end of the building he had entered. If he could get past the men on the inside, he might be able to sneak the prisoners out through one of the side doors. “I’m inside.”
“The helicopter is on its way over. Ghost is making his move on the other guard.”
“I can’t wait. He can come through the door I left open. I’m going to check out the inside situation.”
“Don’t do anything rash until we’re all inside,” warned Garner.
T-Rex ignored Garner. He’d do what he had to in order to save Sierra. Glancing at his watch, he’d used five of the ten minutes he was working with. He inched his way through the storeroom to the door he presumed would lead into the bookstore or a hallway. He turned the knob and eased the door open toward him.
A man stood on the other side with his back to T-Rex.
T-Rex could see the lobby to the right. In his narrow view through the door, he counted four men armed with AR-15s standing to the sides out of range of potential snipers, all staring out toward the parking lot. The thumping of rotors could be heard as the helicopter hovered in the parking lot, making a slow landing to buy the team more distraction time.
T-Rex couldn’t see anything to the left. He’d have to take a chance there weren’t any other men close to the guy in front of him.
“I’m right behind you,” Ghost whispered into his headset. “Invite the man in.”
T-Rex reached out, slid his knife through the man’s jugular, wrapped his arm around him and yanked him into the storeroom.
Ghost was there to close the door behind him.
They waited for the call to go out to the others. When none did, T-Rex opened the door again.
Their attention still on the helicopter, the four in the lobby talked quietly among themselves.
“There’s the helicopter.” A tall man with a solid black ski mask watched as the helicopter hovered over the parking lot. “Where the hell’re the news people?” one of them said.
“At this point, I don’t care,” said a man in a camouflage ski mask. “I just want to be on that helicopter and on my way to the border.”
“Shut up!” The black ski mask guy shook his rifle at his teammate. “We aren’t going until we get our message across. This is a call to arms to the people of this country. Or did you forget?”
“I don’t see anyone else joining our team,” said the man with the camouflage ski mask. “It’s too damned hot to be wearing all of this crap.”
“It’s been thirteen minutes and we still don’t have a news crew.” Black ski mask man jerked his head toward the camouflage man. “Bring one of the women out. We need to show them we mean business.”
The camouflage man turned toward T-Rex and hurried past to the theater. The other three men in the lobby redirected their attention to what was happening in the parking lot.
“There’s a news van pulling in now,” another man said.
“They better be connected with the national news, or we’re not dealing,” black ski mask guy said.
“Going to the theater,” T-Rex said softly into his mic.
“The gang is almost to the building. We’ll follow,” Ghost said.
T-Rex stepped out of the room and tiptoed after the camouflage masked man, praying he wouldn’t start a chain reaction that would get all of the hostages killed.
* * *
“I DON’T KNOW how you did it.” Brenda hugged Sierra. “I almost cried when they let the children go.”
Clay had managed to convince their captors to release the children and two of the mothers, who escorted the kids out of the building. That left four women, one park ranger and the two politicians. They kept them separated on opposite sides of the theater. Clay was in charge of Sierra and the women, while a more volatile man had his weapon trained on the vice president, Ranger Jared and Grady Morris.
“Poor Stevie and Gemma.” Sierra’s heart squeezed in her chest. “They didn’t want to leave without their mothers.”
“Yeah, but they’re safe now.”
“We hope.” Sierra didn’t know what had happened to them once the children left the theater. Clay had told them the children would be released unharmed.
In the meantime, she and the others were being held until the Free America group got what they wanted. What that was, Sierra didn’t know.
After the children had been released, Clay stood for a moment talking to another member of the terrorist group. When that man left the theater, Clay walked down to where the women sat. He grabbed Sierra by the arm and yanked her to her feet, pulling her away from the other women. “I got your damned kids released, it’s time you came with me.” He dragged her toward the exit.
Sierra dug in her heals. “I’m not leaving until the others are released.”
“You sure as hell are.” His hold tightened on her arm. “You promised you’d come without argument if the brats were let loose.” He shoved her up against the wall and pressed the rifle barrel against her throat.
Sierra didn’t flinch, though the cool metal wedged against her neck made it difficult to breathe. “You heard me. Not until the others are released.”
He sneered down at her, his face turning a mottle red. “So much for your word being good.”
She snorted. “I learned from the best of liars.”
He backhanded her so hard, her head snapped back and hit the wall. Sierra’s ears rang and she saw stars, but she refused to pass out. “Besides, you can’t just walk out of this now. This place has to surrounded by every law enforcement agency in the tristate area.”
“I’ll get you out. And we’ll go far away from this hellhole.”
She faced him, her jaw tight, her fists clenched by her side. “I’m not going with you.”
For a long moment, Clay pressed the rifle barrel into her throat, his nostrils flaring. “Fine. You’ll die with the rest of them.” He shoved her toward the others so hard she fell to her knees.
Then he stood back and aimed his rifle at the four women, his eyes narrowed.
Sierra stood, squared her shoulders and joined the other women.
A moan came from the upper end of the theater.
Grady sat in a theater seat, rocking back and forth. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he muttered. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“Shut up, Morris.” The bad-tempered terrorist at the top of the theater hit Morris in the side of his head with the butt of his weapon.
Morris fell out of his seat onto the floor and curled into the fetal position, rocking and sobbing. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“Hey.” Bad-Tempered Guard got Clay’s attention. “I gotta piss. When are we supposed to be replaced?”
“Hell if I know,” Clay responded.
“I can’t wait.” Bad-Tempered Guard waved his rifle at the men. “Watch these three.”
“Send someone else in,” Clay said. “This is a lot of people for one guy to cover.”
“So, you figured that out, did you? You didn’t seem to think so when you left me alone a while ago.” Bad-Tempered Guard snorted. “Seriously, shoot them if they look at you cross-eyed.”
“Much as I’d like to do that, we can’t,” Clay said. “They’re our tickets out of here. Without them, we’re dead.”
“We’re dead anyway. You might as well take some of them with you.” Bad-Tempered Guard left the theater.
Ellis moved to a more strategic position near their prize catch, the vice president. Then he alternated watching the three men at the top of the theater and the women down in front by the stage.
Sierra figured Clay couldn’t keep a close eye on all of them all of the time, and she assumed the primary hostage was the vice president. He’d be more concerned about keeping the vice president from making an escape than a bunch of women.
“How long are you going to keep us here?” the vice president asked.
Clay turned his head to study the vice president and the congressional candidate. “As long as it takes to get what we came for.”
Taking her chance while Clay’s attention was diverted, Sierra inched toward the stage where Ranger Jared had set out a display of the various types of rock that could be found in Yellowstone National Park. She selected two particularly heavy and dense rocks the size of her palm and hid them behind her back. The stun gun would have been better, but it was in her purse halfway up the theater on the floor somewhere. She couldn’t risk going after it now. Clay might figure out that was what she was getting from her purse, since she’d used it on him before.