by Tom Barber
Thinking fast, he’d limped over to the boy as the kids ran out of the room in panic and before two other students had run over to help him out, he’d checked Somers over to make sure he wasn’t carrying any more weapons.
Reaching into his pocket as he sat on the hospital bed, Cummings pulled out a folded piece of A4 paper and opened it up; it was a suicide note. The police would want this. Cummings had seen the kid around campus; he wasn’t one of the troublemakers and had never drawn attention to himself. Not until now.
Thank God he’d been there to take him down.
There was a quiet knock on the door and his heart skipped a beat, his nerves on edge from the events of the day.
However, it was just a nurse.
‘Sorry,’ she said, smiling. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘It’s OK.’ He smiled. ‘Still kinda nervous.’
‘The Chief’s giving a press conference outside,’ she said. ‘All the reporters want to talk to you. There’re a load of other people out there too with gifts for you. You’re a star.’
Cummings smiled, folding up the piece of paper and tucking it in his boot for safe keeping.
‘That’s cool,’ he said.
‘Want to come see the crowd?’
‘Sure.’
Rising, he manoeuvred himself off the bed, the nurse stepping forward to help him. Moving slowly, they started to walk down the quiet corridor, joined by two Metro officers acting as security.
‘My sister’s two sons go to Wilson,’ the nurse told him. ‘Thank you for what you did.’
He smiled. ‘Just doing my job.’
Suddenly there was a commotion behind them, a dark-haired woman appearing from a rear stairwell, voice-recorder in hand.
‘Jeff Cummings!’ she called, walking forward. ‘I’m with Fox News. I was wondering if we could have some words.’
One of the cops stepped forward. ‘Jesus Christ, lady, you shouldn’t be-’
Suddenly Cummings was thumped to the side, blood spraying over the nurse as the glass window to their left smashed. As the nurse, reporter and two cops recoiled in shock, the high school guard collapsed to the floor.
He’d been shot in the head.
The corridor wasn’t quiet for long.
EIGHTEEN
Screams from inside the hospital brought the press conference to an abrupt halt, the Police Chief stopping mid-sentence and swinging round towards the sudden eruption of sound coming from behind him.
Having just entered the building and hearing the screams coming from somewhere above them, Peralta and Font were the first to react.
Racing up the stairs to the 1st floor, they saw a body slumped halfway down the corridor, blood on the white wall beside him. A Metro officer was keeping a screaming blood-stained nurse down and out of sight of the windows as the other was supporting a woman holding a voice-recorder, both of them backed up against a wall as one called it in over his radio.
‘FBI; get back!’ Peralta shouted at some people who were starting to appear at the end of the corridor, drawing his sidearm and running forward, Font just behind him.
Reaching the body, they saw an overweight young man in a brown shirt and black trousers, a belt around his waist with an empty holster.
‘What happened?’ Peralta asked.
‘Window!’ the cop holding the hysterical nurse answered loudly.
As Peralta looked at the smashed window, Font saw the dead man had a nametag on the left breast of his shirt.
‘Son of a bitch,’ Font said. ‘It’s Cummings!’
Looking at the wall beside the body, the pair saw a black hole where a bullet had buried itself. Moving to the other wall beside the shattered pane, Font snatched a glimpse outside at the city.
From this angle, the closest potential firing point was at least eight hundred yards away.
‘Shit, must have been another sniper hit!’ she said.
As other agents who’d been further away started to appear down the corridor, Peralta called Sorenson as Font took another quick glance out of the smashed window at the surrounding buildings, her shoes crunching on the broken glass. The reporter had just pulled her cell phone and Peralta saw the Fox News tag looped around her neck.
‘Ledger’s fourth victim?’ Font asked.
‘How?’ Peralta asked, his phone to his ear as he waited for Sorenson to answer. ‘He’s locked down across town!’
In the process of dialling Shepherd, Archer looked over at the screen and paused.
The live press conference had suddenly descended into mayhem.
‘What the hell?’ Ledger said.
‘Turn that up,’ Archer said. Jack picked up the control and increased the volume.
‘-just terrible scenes,’ the reporter was saying, outside a hospital. ‘Though it’s still not clear what happened, we’re receiving news from one of our reporters that there’s been a shooting here in the hospital.’
The group watched in silence. There was a pause, the woman clearly listening to something coming through her earpiece.
‘We’ve just been told the hero guard from Wilson High was the victim. He was shot through a window on the first floor of the hospital.’
‘Someone killed the Wilson High guard?’ Jesse said.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Jack said, as Archer and Ledger watched silently. ‘What is going on?’
‘She said hero guard?’ Jesse said, replaying the anchor’s words in his mind. ‘What is she talking about?’
Archer looked at the boy. ‘There was a shooting at Wilson High about ninety minutes ago. You hadn’t heard?’
Jesse’s face froze. ‘No. Were people killed?’
‘Only one person. A student. He tried to open fire on a class.’
‘What was his name?’
‘Jeremy Somers.’
Behind the reporter, law-enforcement personnel could be seen moving quickly in and out of the building. The assembled gathering at the press conference meant everyone from Metro street officers to ATF agents were already on site.
‘First floor means you couldn’t hit him from immediately outside,’ Archer said, as Ledger nodded in agreement. ‘It must have come from a distance. A rifle.’
‘But why would anyone want to kill the guard?’ Jack asked.
Not replying, Archer looked at Jesse. ‘Do you know where that hospital is?’
He didn’t reply.
‘Kid?’
‘Huh?’
‘Know where that hospital is?’
‘Yeah, it’s in the 2nd Ward. Other side of the River, up towards the Monument.’
‘Proves I couldn’t have shot the guy,’ Ledger said. ‘I was trapped down here and they’ll know that.’
Archer didn’t reply, carrying the phone to the wall beside the window.
Glancing through the half-closed blinds, he saw the mass of rioters were now just one block away, several buildings on the block behind them now burning.
It was time to call for help and then get the hell out of here.
Outside GU Hospital, an immediate lockdown had been imposed on a twenty block radius, and a Metro officer had just radioed in that he and his partner had found something. The ATF and FBI got their location and a short time later, Peralta and Font arrived on a roof over nine hundred yards away from the hospital, the sound of choppers circling above them.
Both agents immediately spotted a suppressed rifle on the flat roof beside the Metro officers who’d located it, a single shell casing lying beside the semi-automatic weapon. The pair moved forward, the faint acidic smell of gun-smoke lingering in the air, and as they knelt by the weapon, Font looked over at the hospital.
In the distance, she could just make out the window Cummings had been shot through.
‘From here?’ she said. ‘Are you kidding me?’
Still on the line with Sorenson, Peralta kept his phone to his ear as he studied the weapon. Ironically, the two Boston agents Sorenson had been so keen to get rid of were now right at
the centre of the latest incident and the Bureau’s only personnel at the scene for the moment.
‘We’ve got the murder weapon,’ Peralta told him. ‘Shooter left it right here on a rooftop.’
‘What is it?’
Peralta looked at the branding and serial number. ‘Rozio Weapons Systems.’
‘Same as the one we found at Ledger’s apartment?’
‘No,’ Peralta replied, looking at the rifle ‘This one’s not a 20mm, it’s a .308. Smaller.’
‘Distance?’
‘Shit, I’d say over nine hundred yards, at least. Must have been a sub-sonic round too; no-one heard a thing.’ He focused on the hospital window. ‘Moving target, loads of law enforcement in the area, and no-one saw anything.’
‘Son of a bitch is a pro,’ Font added.
‘There’s no way Harry Ledger could have made it across the Anacostia, sir?’ Peralta asked Sorenson.
‘Not a chance. The 7th and 8th are locked down.’
‘Then he’s not working alone. Or we’re looking for the wrong guy.’
Sorenson didn’t reply.
‘Sir?’
‘Hold the line,’ Sorenson ordered. ‘One of my team just got something.’
Like many cities around the world, D.C. is monitored like a giant grid by CCTV. Scouring the cameras, one of Sorenson’s analysts inside the FBI’s Command Post had just found what they were all looking for.
‘I’ve got him!’ she said, looking at CCTV footage of Harry Ledger. ‘Intersection of Minnesota and Benning. And he’s not alone!’
Sorenson moved over to the screen, looking at the shot of Ledger being helped into an office building. A blond man in a dark shirt, grey t-shirt and blue jeans was supporting him, a black teenage boy in a Redskins jersey beside them holding the door open, the shot frozen mid-frame.
‘Who are the other two?’ another analyst said.
‘Have they come back out?’ Sorenson asked, seeing the timestamp on the video was over twenty minutes ago.
‘I don’t think so, sir. But the CCTV has just gone down.’
‘Call it in to HRT!’ he ordered. ‘Lock the area down and trap that son of a bitch!’
NINETEEN
In the 7th Ward, the FBI Hostage Rescue Team was still conducting door to door searches in Buena Vista, near the house where they’d found bloodstains and the front door shot to pieces, when their Commander received the information that Ledger had been sighted going into the building at the intersection.
‘Move out!’ he ordered, his men immediately abandoning their search and running out of the house they were clearing. Piling into their vehicle, the men remained standing but grabbed hold of iron bar supports as one jumped behind the wheel and started the engine.
‘Let’s go, Johnson!’ the commander ordered the driver. ‘Minnesota and Benning!’
‘Chopper’s advising the quickest route is blocked, sir,’ the driver said after a few moments. ‘They’ll give me a path. ETA six minutes.’
Inside the office building, Archer was trying to call Shepherd, but it wasn’t happening.
Frowning, he pushed the button and listened.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jack asked.
‘Phone’s not working.’
As Jack withdrew his own cell phone and passed it over, two things happened.
Archer realised why the line was dead.
And his eyes were drawn to the wall behind his brother-in-law.
‘Get out!’ he suddenly shouted, shoving a startled Jack, Jesse and Ledger towards the door, none of them having seen a red pinprick of light suddenly appear on the wall immediately behind Jack.
On the roof of a building the other side of the street, still dressed in the Metro cop uniform but now with a Rozio YM26 grenade launcher in his hands, Thorne was satisfied he’d sighted the right office according to the building plans Burnett had accessed.
To his left, a mob of troublemakers were arriving at the intersection, but he figured they wouldn’t hang around with what was coming next.
Sighting the laser on the office window, the blinds half closed, he saw a flurry of activity inside.
After waiting a few seconds longer, he fired.
They’d just made it into the corridor when there was a smash of glass followed by a large explosion. Windows were blown out, desks, computers and other office paraphernalia were hurled across the room, the group outside knocked off their feet by the force of the blast.
Coughing, his ears ringing, Archer rolled over as the fire alarm starting to sound around the building.
The door behind them had been blasted open, what was left of it hanging off its hinges.
Through the gap of what had been an internal window, Archer saw the red laser appear again, moving slowly along the far wall of the room next door.
It was coming their way.
‘Go!’ he shouted, the other three still scrambling to their feet as he shoved them unceremoniously towards the stairs, Jack and Jesse going first.
Archer and Ledger had only just reached the top of the stairs when a second explosion took both men off their feet, smashing them into the wall. They landed hard, brick-dust and splinters showering them both.
After a few moments Archer pushed himself to his feet, leaning against the wall as he fought to clear his head.
‘What the hell was that?’ Jack coughed from a few steps down.
‘Keep moving!’ Archer said, not knowing and not wasting time trying to figure it out. As he helped Ledger stand, he was relieved to see Jack and Jesse had been further down the stairs when the second explosion came and were therefore less affected, already continuing down the stairs.
Reaching the ground floor, Jack was first out of the stairwell, going into the lobby and heading straight for the front exit.
‘Wait!’ Archer and Ledger said simultaneously as they followed him into the lobby a few moments later, stopping Jack in his tracks.
Thorne had already swapped the grenade launcher for a rifle he’d had leaning against the wall beside him, the crosshairs now trained on the front entrance to the lobby.
Double-checking the 1st floor office he’d just hit with the projectiles, he now had a pretty clear view through what was left of the blinds. He saw parts of the office were on fire, but couldn’t see any sign of the occupants, which meant they’d probably escaped the blasts. He smiled.
‘FBI just found Ledger on CCTV,’ Burnett said over the radio. ‘They’ve got a shitload of personnel on their way to the intersection. ETA four minutes.’
At the back of the lobby, Archer spotted an emergency fire exit to his left.
‘This way!’
Reaching the door, he pushed the bar back and as the door swung out to the right, he used it as a shield as he checked the left side, his Sig Sauer in the aim. To the right was the intersection and the streets back into the riot-zone; to the left was the bridge leading to the other side of the Anacostia.
‘What do we do?’ Jesse asked, panic in the boy’s voice as he stepped out behind Archer.
As the words left the kid’s mouth, Archer suddenly saw a figure whip round the corner into the alleyway and instantly recognised him as the cop who’d tried to shoot Jesse in the head earlier.
The man had a rifle in his hands, blocking their path.
And he was already bringing it up to fire.
TWENTY
Grabbing the bar running along the back of the fire door, Archer pulled it towards him just as the man pulled the trigger.
The door rattled violently as it took the burst, the gunshots echoing in the night, unsuppressed and brutal. Stuffing his pistol into the back of his jeans, Ledger pulled Jesse back with his good arm as Archer threw himself into the building.
The door slamming shut behind him, Archer secured it, the onslaught from outside continuing, the noise reverberating in the lobby as the man outside tried to blast his way in.
Hearing and seeing the engagement on the east side of the building as Deerman fired
at the door, Thorne scanned the intersection from his vantage point. ‘What’s our clock?’
‘One minute, tops.’
‘We need to get them out of there before the cops arrive!’
Loading the YM26 with a tear gas projectile, Thorne aimed then blasted the canister into the lobby before immediately reloading and firing another.
Inside the building, Archer, Ledger, Jesse and Jack saw the canisters shatter the glass and roll into the lobby, spewing their contents into the confined space. Crouching behind a large rectangular plant box, the others beside him, Archer looked left and right, desperately looking for an escape route.
‘Is there any other way out of here?’ he asked Jack as the tear gas started to drift towards them.
‘Just the door to the basement parking lot!’
Knowing these men would more than likely have it covered, Archer searched for any alternative, the reception area quickly filling with the incapacitating gas, just seconds from their eyes, nose and lungs.
‘What do we do?’ Jesse asked, covering his mouth.
Cursing, Archer could still hear the fire exit to their left getting hammered; it was only a matter of time before it gave way.
Then he looked at Jack.
‘You drove here, right?’
On the roof across the street, Thorne waited with his rifle. The interior of the lobby was now thick with gas; it would have overwhelmed anyone in that space by now.
Then looking through the haze, he suddenly saw a car speed out of the underground parking lot.
Inside Jack’s car, the closed windows shielding them from any of the incapacitating gas, Archer headed for the road to their left but suddenly lost control as the tyres were shot out, the car rolling to a halt on the other side of the street.