“Maybe not,” Leopold said, picking up his cell phone. “But we can sure as hell try.”
Chapter 52
JUNE RUBBED HER head, wincing as her hand brushed over a large bruise where she had fallen against the wall. Her ankle hurt, an understandable side-effect from kicking a man in the chest, and the bullet graze to her shoulder smarted a little, but June was otherwise uninjured. She gazed down at the unconscious man lying on her bed. She had used some silk stockings to tie his hands and feet.
I guess I’m out of shape, she thought. He should be dead.
She looked back at the man’s face and realized why he looked so familiar. She’d seen him hanging around Jack’s house, just after he got back from his surgery. He’d introduced himself, but she couldn’t remember his name. Probably fake anyway. She heard a soft moan. His unconscious state was lifting. He turned his head, his eyes opening slightly.
Pressing a washrag on her shoulder wound, she watched as the man spluttered blood onto the bed sheets. Somewhere between conscious and asleep, he was barely able to control his breathing. If his throat filled with blood, he could easily choke to death. June’s brain switched into doctor mode.
She bent down to feel for a pulse. Noticing a strong heartbeat, she listened for his breathing. A thin strand of blood drained from the corner of his mouth. She rolled him onto his side in the recovery position, reducing the risk of choking. Even though he had just invaded the room to kill Jack, and then taken several shots at her, she could afford him some basic humanity.
June went back to get her smart phone, and then stared at it. She had no idea whom to call. She certainly wasn’t going to call her sister, especially without having bought her a damn birthday present. It wasn’t worth the grief.
She sat on the floor near the restrained man, checking his pulse and breathing again. Content he wasn’t going to die on her, June inspected the ankle she had twisted in the final kick. It wasn’t turning a funny color, but looked puffy around the bone. She leaned her back against the wall and tried to gather her thoughts.
Her phone rang. It was Leopold again.
“Please tell me you’re getting me out of here,” June said. “I think I’ve had enough of this place.” She glanced up at the body on the bed. “And the room service sucks.”
“Soon, I promise,” said Leopold, the clattering noise in the background worse than ever. “Just keep your door locked. We’re sending an agent to find Jerome and get up there. Secret Service has Jack. What’s your status? Any unwelcome guests?”
“Taken care of,” she said with a sigh. “Unconscious, bound, and needs a trip to the hospital.”
Leopold chuckled. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you, Doctor? What happened?”
“He got into the room and…never mind. Just get me out of here. I’m done with this weekend. Along with tropical Hawaii, the Great Northwest is getting taken off my list of vacation destinations.”
“All in due time. But first, there’s a new development. Doctor, we’ve got a second threat against the building.”
“Will you please stop calling me Doctor?”
“Fine, but you need to answer something,” Leopold told her. “Did the man up there with you speak English?”
“Yeah, why?”
“With an accent?”
“No, with a generic American accent.”
“What does he look like?” Leopold asked.
“Actually, I think he might be a security guard or something. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him before. Normal-looking guy. White, maybe six-one. Middle-aged. He’s got a major grudge against Jack.”
“Okay.” Leopold paused. “Two foreign men that fit the descriptions from this morning’s bomb scare were apprehended earlier today. One of them is dead, but the other indicated there’s another threat to the building. We think it might be gas.”
June frowned. “Gas, like in natural gas? Just have someone turn it off.”
“No. Gas as in sarin gas. Rigged up to the ventilation system.” He sighed. “Actually, I’m staring at the detonator right now.”
June looked up at the open duct only a few feet in front of her. She felt her pulse quicken. “Don’t tell me. No one knows how to disarm it, right?”
“Looks like a PIN code deactivation,” Leopold said. “But without a conscious suspect to interrogate, we’re shit out of luck.”
“Great. And I can’t get out,” June muttered, trying to ignore the panic building in her chest. “I’m in lockdown.”
“You and a couple hundred other people.”