by M. C. Sutton
Many of the other hostages were conscious now, and most of them looked scared and confused. Emma and Jon sat down against the wall next to Jack, who was awake too. Aaron stepped down from the stage and took a seat on the other side of Jon.
“What do you think they injected us with?” Jack whispered.
Emma cradled her head again, her headache pounding so hard she could barely think. “Naloxone, maybe?”
“Naloxone?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah. It’s typically used to counteract the effects of a morphine or heroin overdose. Using it on us would reverse the effects of the inhibiting agent in whatever gas they used almost immediately, so they won’t have to worry about any of us suffocating or going into cardiac arrest.”
“And how in the world do you know that?” Jon asked.
“They used it during the Nord-Ost siege in Moscow in ’02. I did a dissertation on it,” Emma answered. “Fifty Chechen terrorists took a theatre of eight hundred and fifty people hostage for three days. So the Russian police pumped a knock-out gas into the theater to subdue everyone and get the hostages out. The whole thing was an emergency management mess. Let’s just say they weren’t particularly well organized.”
“Yeah, well, these guys are,” said Aaron. He explained to them in a low whisper how the terrorists flooded into the room the instant everyone began to pass out. Those few who hadn’t fainted were “recruited” to help prop up all the hostages and make sure everyone was still breathing. Anyone wearing a security uniform or toting a gun was dragged out of the conference room. Aaron had no idea where they’d been taken. As soon as nearly everyone was knocked out, the terrorists put fans up just inside the doors to clear out the gas. And they managed to accomplish all of it systematically, within a matter of minutes.
“So I take it the gas didn’t work on you?” said Jon.
Aaron smiled. “It doesn’t work when my dentist tries it, either.”
The terrorist with the friendly eyes hopped onto the stage again. “Listen up, everybody.” He waited till they were all looking up at him. “As long as everyone follows directions and stays on their best behavior, we’ll all come out of this okay. We’ll get what we want.” He motioned to the other terrorists standing on the stage with him, then made a special point to glare at Jon. “And you won’t die.”
Jon narrowed his eyes.
“From this point forward, we operate on the buddy system. The person sitting to your left is your new best friend. You try to be a hero, and you’re not just putting your own life in jeopardy. We’ll shoot your buddy, too.”
Jon looked at Emma.
“You got it, tough guy,” said Mac, addressing Jon directly. “We so much as suspect that you’re planning something, she dies. Plain and simple.”
Emma could tell by the way Jon dropped his shoulders and leaned his head back against the wall that it was over. Whatever plan he had been hatching, whatever idea he’d had in his head, was gone. Jon wasn’t about to do anything that would risk her life. The terrorists, whoever they were, had known exactly what to say to subdue one of the few people in that room who could possibly get them all out of this.
Mac jumped down from the stage and joined the guy who was staring at the surveillance monitors.
“Em?” Jon whispered, his eyes meeting hers.
There had only been a handful of times in their marriage when she had ever seen Jon genuinely worried. This was one of those times.
“Did it end well?” he said. “In Moscow?”
Emma slipped her hand into his, suddenly wishing she had been awake to talk to Matt when he had called earlier. “No, honey. I can’t say that it did.”
CHAPTER 19
“Matthew, can you hear me?”
Matt didn’t know how long he’d been passed out on the hall floor. He tried to open his eyes to identify the person talking to him, but he couldn’t seem to fight against the weight of his own eyelids.
A different voice spoke. “Matt, honey, it’s Sarah.”
He still couldn’t manage to peel his eyes open, but it didn’t stop Sarah from doing it. She lifted each lid and shined a light directly at his pupil. Matt winced at the brightness but didn’t try to turn away.
He felt a slight prick on his left arm, then something cold burned through his veins. A moment later he could feel the warmth of a hand wrapped tightly around his. Matt had a pretty good idea who that might be.
“Dr. March, his hands are freezing.”
“He’s in shock, Alex,” Sarah answered.
“Is it his heart?”
“No, I don’t think so. Not based on what Mike told me. Though I’m sure it probably didn’t help.”
What? Matt tried to ask but couldn’t manage to form the word. If it wasn’t his heart that did this to him, then what in the world could it have been?
“Matt?” He felt Alex’s hand against his forehead. She must have picked up on his thoughts and realized he could hear them talking.
He finally managed to force his eyes open, though it took him a minute to focus.
Alex was leaning over him, smiling at him through red, puffy eyes. “Welcome back.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I was afraid I was going to lose you there for a minute, Matia mou.”
Matt conjured a weak smile and squeezed her hand. “You weren’t the only one.”
Sarah cleared her throat. Matt had almost forgotten she was there. She glanced back and forth between him and Alex, then winked at him.
“Feeling any better?” she asked.
He laughed. “Compared to what?”
With the help of Alex and Sarah, he managed to sit up against the wall. Alex continued to keep a tight grip on his hand, as if she had just gotten him back and wasn’t about to let him go again. Matt rested an elbow on one knee and cradled his head in his hand. He had the worst headache of his life.
“Jeez, Lexi, what did you do to me?”
“I don’t find that even remotely funny, Matt,” she answered, but grinned anyway.
Sarah checked his blood pressure. He sat still while she did it, which wasn’t easy, he was shaking so badly. All he could think about was how much he wished he had a blanket to wrap up in. Ironic, considering the heat.
Sarah pulled the stethoscope out of her ears and nodded. Matt guessed that meant his heart rate was back to normal again. Or as normal as it was going to get for him.
Matt had every intention of just sitting there with his head in his hand and Alex rubbing the back of his neck for as long as it took to get his strength back. But the sweet silence of the empty hallway was interrupted by the sound of loafers clacking against the tile. Then Professor March was standing over him, an expression of grim sobriety on his face.
“Sarah, we’ve got to go,” he said.
Sarah bit her lip. “Matt, do you think you can walk? If Alex and I help you?”
“I guess so. Where are we going?”
“Home, Matthew,” the professor answered.
Matt was starting to get worried. What had just happened to him? And what did Professor March say to Sarah that would make her think it didn’t have anything to do with his heart? What was she even doing there, anyway? There was no way she could have gotten all the way up to campus from the clinic that quickly. Did Professor March call her? Had he already known something was wrong?
With quite a bit of help, Matt managed to get to his feet. Professor March waited silently while Matt put an arm around Sarah’s and Alex’s shoulders just so he could make it down the hall. He knew the professor didn’t offer to help because Matt couldn’t usually handle anyone outside of his own family touching him. Sarah didn’t count. She had been the Grants’ family doctor since before Matt was even born. She had even come with them to Missouri from Virginia after her divorce, so as far as he was concerned, she was a part of the family.
But Matt still got the distinct impression that something else was going on with Professor March as well. He seemed anxious. His eyes kept darting around as if
he expected someone to jump out at them. Even though, oddly enough, there wasn’t a single other person even in the hallway.
As soon as Sarah nodded to the professor that they were ready to go, he turned on his heel and strode up the hall. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number as they followed.
Matt wondered how he even had cell service here.
“Daniel,” the professor snapped without even a hello. “Is Leah with you? … Then I want you to find her immediately and take her straight home. … I don’t care if she’s in class, Daniel. Pull her out.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Matt couldn’t take it anymore. “Professor, what in the world is going on?”
“I don’t have time to explain, Matthew.” He spoke without turning. “All I can tell you is that we need to get you home.”
Matt was getting really tired of no one telling him anything. “No,” he said, taking his arm off Sarah’s shoulder and stopping where he was.
“Excuse me?” Professor March turned around and stepped closer.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” said Matt.
Sarah bit her lip, and out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Alex staring at him with her mouth open.
Professor March had an expression Matt had never seen before. It frightened him, like the look on his dad’s face last year when he found out Jacob had totaled the car, only much worse.
But at that moment Matt didn’t care. He was more angry than he was afraid.
The professor’s eyebrows were drawn, and the muscles in his neck twitched. Matt waited. He had always been smart enough to never openly defy his parents. He couldn’t imagine the consequences of defying a former British operative.
The professor took a deep breath. His eyes softened. “Matthew, something has happened… in Dallas. I can’t tell you any more than that right now. All I can tell you is that it is absolutely vital that I get you and your brother and sister home immediately.”
Matt thought his heart might stop again. He swallowed the lump at the back of his throat. He knew now why he’d fainted. The same thing had happened to his mom a couple of years ago—just before they got the phone call that his great-grandmother had passed away.
“Professor March?” Matt struggled to even get the words out. “Are my parents dead?”
Alex took in a sharp breath. Matt didn’t want to turn to meet her stare. He kept his eyes on Professor March. It was hard to read anything from his expression, though. The professor had years of practice in keeping his emotions hidden.
Alex tightened her arm around Matt’s waist.
“Matthew.” The professor stepped right up to him and lowered his voice. “I can assure you that as bad as you may think you feel right now, if both your parents were dead…” He looked him right in the eye. “You would feel much, much worse.”
Matt bowed his head. He understood what the professor meant, but it still wasn’t a no.
Professor March sighed. “Matthew, I need you to trust me right now, all right? Please. Just let me do my job.”
Matt wondered what that job was exactly, but he was past the point of asking questions. It wouldn’t do any good anyway.
“Now, where is your brother?”
Matt had to think about what day it was. He was still a little dazed. Friday. Jacob didn’t have any classes on Friday, but there was something else his brother was doing today. “He took my dad’s truck, and he and Emily went to Springfield this morning.”
“Emily Burbank?” Professor March’s eyebrows shot up.
So much for controlling his expression. The professor gave Sarah a knowing look Matt didn’t understand, pulled out his phone, and handed it to her. She nodded and walked away.
The professor turned back to Matt. “Come on then, Matthew,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you home.”
Professor March took Matt’s other arm and draped it across his shoulder. Matt was a little alarmed at first, but not nearly as much as he had been that morning. Unlike what he’d experienced the first time the professor put his hands on him, Matt felt only a wave of calm creeping across his mind. He was more relaxed than he had been in a long time—far more than he should be, considering the circumstances.
His body grew heavy. Every so often he would stumble as they walked, and Alex and the professor would have to support the majority of Matt’s weight. It surprised Matt a little each time it happened.
Wow. The professor’s pretty strong for an old dude.
“Professor, is he okay?” Alex asked.
“He’s fine, Miss Romano. Let’s just get him to the car.”
The professor and Alex helped Matt into the back of the Marches’ Mercedes. Matt rested his head against the cool leather seat and smiled. Sarah always did have a thing for comfort, he thought.
Now thoroughly convinced his sudden drowsiness was the professor’s doing, he decided he might as well give in. Soon all he was aware of was the gentle hum of the engine and the warmth of Alex’s fingers intertwined with his. It was nice to have her there. To have her support.
Too bad Matt knew it couldn’t stay that way.
It was a forty-minute drive from the private university campus in Neosho to the Grants’ property out on Big Sugar Creek, and by the time they finally pulled into the driveway, the effects of whatever the professor had done to Matt had pretty much worn off. He almost wished they hadn’t. For the last few miles of the drive from Pineville out to the house, Matt kept glancing sideways at Alex with an incredible sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach.
This wasn’t going to work, and he knew it. He wanted it to. He really wanted it to. But he kept replaying in his mind the look of terror on Alex’s face just before she left him alone in the hall. She cared about him. A lot. And he cared about her just as much. But that was the problem. Matt cared about her way too much to let her get close, knowing one day he was going to leave her. He couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her like that.
The way his father had hurt his mother.
Matt turned to look at her, to revel in the curves of her face, the gentle curl of her mouth as she watched the horses run across the pasture beside the car. She absentmindedly put her fingers to her lips and smiled. He sensed her heart flutter a little and imagined she was thinking about their first kiss only an hour ago.
She must have realized he was looking at her. She turned to him and winked. Matt smiled. He knew he was going to have to break her heart eventually. But maybe he didn’t have to do it just yet.
When they pulled up to the house, Matt wasn’t surprised to see his grandfather’s truck already in the driveway. With Grandpa Scott’s connections, if there was something going on at the convention, he would have found out before anyone.
Matt was able to make it to the front door without any help, but Alex still kept a death grip on his hand. Was it because of the scare he had given her in the hallway? Or was it more because of a fear that, now that he’d kissed her, he was going to tuck tail and run? Again.
“Mike.” Grandpa shook the professor’s hand as they entered.
The TV was turned to the news. Either that was a good thing and meant that whatever was happening in Dallas didn’t directly involve his parents—or it was very, very bad.
“You’ve managed to track down Jacob?” the professor asked.
Grandpa nodded. “He was dropping Emily off in Anderson when I talked to him. He should be here soon.”
Matt grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the TV.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are here with crisis psychologist Dr. Riviera Rodriguez, who has been kind enough to join us today as we try to make sense of the situation that is unfolding as we speak. A short time ago we received word that the Constitutional Convention, which had been moved to an undisclosed location in Dallas, Texas, has now become hostage to terrorist forces…”
Alex gasped and threw a hand over her mouth. Matt tightened his grip on her other hand.
“Dr. Rodriguez,” the anchorwoman said. “I’m not even sure I know what to say to this. Exactly what degree of severity are we looking at here?”
“To be blunt, Connie, it’s bad. We’re talking about the majority of our nation’s leaders—representatives, senators, heads of the financial and corporate sectors, scientists, educators, even the vice president—gathered together to address the issues that are crippling our economy, despite the obvious and, as we can see, very real risk to their own personal safety. And now they have all been taken hostage by this domestic terrorist group calling themselves ‘The Republic.’”
“Dr. Rodriguez, do we know anything, at this point, about who these people are or what they want?”
“We do know one thing. That this group, whoever they are, is very well organized. This convention has changed locations multiple times and had extensive security in place. Yet somehow they managed to pull it off smoothly and strategically. They didn’t even wait for us to find out something was wrong. Federal law enforcement and the media were notified immediately after they took control, complete with warnings on exactly what would happen if anyone tried to end the siege by force. Which means they had help.”
Professor March and Grandpa glanced at each other.
“Dr. Rodriguez, I’m going to have to interrupt you for just a moment. I’ve just been told that we’ve received a copy of the terrorists’ demands video. We’re going to play that for you now.”
The image on the TV changed from the news room to what looked like a small office. Facing the camera were two people Matt recognized immediately. One was Jacob’s idol, a journalist named Rachael Dallin. The other was Stephen Bennett.
“Hello. My name is Rachael Dallin. I’m a journalist and photographer currently on special invite by Vice President Allred at the national convention being held here in Dallas, Texas. To my left is Stephen Bennett, the Canadian Minister of International Development. Please know that we are all alive and well, and no harm will come to any of us if The Republic receives total cooperation from federal authorities and there are no attempts to remove any of the hostages by force.”