A hand grasped Jack’s shoulder and he whirled around, ready to shoot.
“Whoa, cowboy.” Mike stepped back. “It’s just me.”
Jack lowered his gun. “Sorry.”
“We’re all a little spooked.”
Jack nodded. “I think we’re pretty much done with the sweep.”
They had reached the basement, below the lowest public level. It was pretty dark. The only light shone from the opened doors atop the stairs. They had Carla’s flashlight, but used it sparingly to preserve the batteries.
Mike was soaked with sweat. So was Jack. Joe walked up to them, radio in hand.
“That’s about it,” he said, “Unless you know of any other rooms to check?”
Jack fought to dampen his worried thoughts about Anna, searching his tired brain for any place they hadn’t searched and locked up. “No, I think we secured everything.”
As his brother, Joe could read Jack like a book. He held his eyes for a moment. Jack appreciated his empathy, glad he was with him...and alive.
Joe raised the radio and pressed a button. “Carla?”
“Ten-four.” Her voice was breaking up. The building had thick stone walls, and iron strengthening it throughout. Not conducive to decent conversations by radio.
“Perimeters searched and cleared.” Joe maintained official military lingo.
“All clear here, too,” she answered.
Jack grabbed the radio. “How’s Anna?”
A pause. What did he expect her to say?
“She finally came out of the restroom,” said Carla, sounding hopeful. “Anna is in the office with Jared. Your girl’s a real trooper.”
Chapter Two
Joe and Mike trailed behind Jack as he burst into the office.
Jack hadn’t wasted a second, sprinting up the stairs, through the lobby and hallway to get to his daughter. He pictured holding her and telling her everything would be all right.
He stopped short.
Anna was lying on a table, Her eyes were closed and she was covered with jackets for warmth. Jared leaned in next to Jack’s daughter, holding her hand. Seated in the only chair, Carla put a finger to her lips as the men entered the room. Anna shielded her eyes from the daylight brought with them, since up until that moment the door had been slightly ajar.
Not fully sick yet, Jack’s daughter’s brows were knitted together, and her lips parted as she breathed softly. Her eyes, no longer swollen from tears, appeared sunken. Worst of all, Jack couldn’t sense any of Anna’s normal joy of spirit.
Jared didn’t look up. His worried gaze was fixed only on Anna and her misery.
Carla rose from the chair, motioning for the three men to follow her out of the room, again leaving the door ajar. They moved down the hall, to where they could speak freely.
“She’s okay for now,” said Carla. “Jared... he’s great. He won’t give up. And it’s working. He just kept talking, and finally coaxed her out. Of all of us, I think she trusts him the most. So let’s allow him to continue unhindered, if possible. He’s a great caretaker for her.”
Jack was at a loss for words, and he looked back at the room, unable to tear his eyes away from the door still ajar. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to say something. When Jack didn’t, Joe gave Carla the details of the sweep they had made. She took it all in, likely memorizing details like the good cop she once was. Afterward, dead silence flattened them once again... until Jack couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll be back,” he announced, and returned to the office.
He opened the door slowly, softly. Jared looked up at him. “Thank you, son,” Jack said simply. “I’d like to sit with her. Alone. For a few minutes.”
Jared gently loosened his hand from hers and replaced it with Jack’s. Anna didn’t open her eyes as Jared quietly left the room. He was a good kid, understanding a lot at his age, or so it seemed. Although never mentioning a word about his background, parents, etc., seemed downright weird.
Jack leaned closer and stroked his daughter’s hair like he used to when she’d skinned her knee or had a bad dream—those little girl moments seemed so long ago. She turned to him with a wan smile and opened her eyes.
“Hey, Angel,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Daddy, her little-girl name for him.
“I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“This is the last thing any of us needs,” she said. “Anna screwed up again. She didn’t listen. Now look what happened to her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said soothingly, uncomfortable she was talking about herself in the third person. “You’ll be all right, Anna.”