Live Bait

by David Archer

  “Mind if I have a cigarette while I think about it?” Sam reached into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes and the lighter.

  She didn’t mean to do it, but Indie suddenly stared at him. Heinrich caught it, and suddenly a pistol appeared in his hand.

  “Put the cigarettes down, Mr. Prichard,” he said. “I was surprised when you mentioned them, because I didn’t think you were a smoker, but your wife’s reaction tells me that she was just as surprised. Let me guess, lighting a cigarette is a signal to someone?”

  “No,” Sam said, trying his best to keep his face from showing any emotion. “I used to smoke when I was younger, and when Indie vanished this morning, I was just suddenly craving a cigarette. Somebody back at the base let me have one, and that was it.”

  Heinrich shook his head. “You are too honest, Mr. Prichard,” he said. “Your face betrays you when you lie.” He reached out and took the cigarette Sam had laid on the table and squeezed it, and then his eyes went wide. “I, on the other hand, do enjoy a good cigarette now and then. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Keeping his pistol leveled on Sam, he put the cigarette to his lips and picked up Sam’s lighter. He struck the wheel, then slowly raised the flame toward the end of the cigarette.

  The cigarette flared and Heinrich dropped the lighter. He quickly took the cigarette from his lips and held it, pointing directly at Indie.

  “A good brand,” he said, “but a bit stale.”

  In his mind, Sam was counting seconds. One… Two… Three… Four… Five…

  As he reached the number six, Sam moved suddenly, bringing a hand up under the table and flipping it into Heinrich’s face, while reaching his other hand across Indie and dragging her out of the cigarette’s line of fire. There was a loud Pop! and something struck Sam’s hand just as he yanked Indie to the floor. He felt the impact of the little bullet, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. He grabbed the center pedestal of the table and pushed it as hard as he could, keeping the tabletop between himself and Heinrich.

  Heinrich squeezed the trigger on his pistol and the cheap particle board of the tabletop barely slowed the bullet down. Sam felt something slam into his left thigh, but then he was on his feet and dragging Indie away. Heinrich shoved the table aside and aimed at Sam again, but before he could pull the trigger, both Jade and Summer began firing at him.

  One of the slugs grazed Heinrich’s arm and he turned and fled. Summer snapped off a couple more shots, but Heinrich made it out the door, so both girls rushed over to Sam and Indie.

  “Are you guys okay?” Jade asked, but Summer had her radio in her hand.

  “Denny!” she shouted. “Heinrich is leaving the building, get him!”

  Heinrich had gotten to the outer door and pushed his way past several people who were trying to come in. Suddenly, there were gunshots and people screaming just outside and Sam knew that Heinrich’s men must be firing at those who were trying to flee the building. He and Indie were both on their feet and he grabbed her hand in his own and led her toward the door.

  He paused in the exit, ducking low and peeking out to see what was happening. There were several people lying on the ground outside while others were running in different directions, trying to escape the men who were shooting at them.

  Suddenly, Sam saw two of the three men who had frisked him drop suddenly to the ground, blood spraying from their heads onto the asphalt of the parking lot, and a moment later, the sound of new shots rang out from the distance. The third man was crouching down, trying to see where the shots were coming from, but another one put an end to his curiosity, and his life.

  There was no sign of Heinrich Wegner.

  Sam turned to Indie and whispered, “Stay low,” then pulled her through the doorway. He rushed to where the first of Heinrich’s men lay dead on the concrete and snatched the pistol in his injured hand, ignoring the pain as he clutched the grip and put a finger on the trigger. His car was only thirty yards away, and he pulled Indie along as he hurried toward it.

  A shot rang out from his left and he spun in time to see two more of Heinrich’s men preparing to fire at him again. He spun and aimed his pistol toward them, squeezing the trigger twice in rapid succession. Both of the men ducked, but one of Sam’s bullets found its mark in the second man’s throat. He dropped his own gun and grabbed at his neck, then fell to the ground as blood gushed onto the pavement.

  Another shot rang out from the opposite direction, and the second shooter’s head exploded. One of Rob’s snipers had seen what was happening and had taken the shot. Sam continued toward the car, but suddenly his leg was weak and couldn’t support his weight. Indie ducked under his arm and wrapped her arms around his chest, holding him up as he hobbled along. They made it to the car and Sam had to switch the gun to his other hand as he fumbled in his pocket for the key remote. He unlocked the car and pushed Indie inside, then hurried around and climbed in behind the wheel.

  Another shooter appeared suddenly in front of them and took aim at the car. The bullet crashed through the side window, narrowly missing Indie’s face. Sam hit the button to start the engine, then yanked the shifter into reverse. He shoved his foot to the floor on the throttle and the car roared backward, making the shooter’s next bullet go wild. It ricocheted off the building as Sam dropped the shifter into drive and raced directly at the man who had fired, causing him to dive for safety.

  The car hit the street and Sam spun the wheel to the right, then raced away from the continuing gunfire. A throbbing in his leg caused him to look down, and he saw that blood was soaking the seat as it ran freely from a wound in his thigh.

  Sam picked up the radio that he had left on the console and pressed the button. “Denny, it’s Sam, and I’m hit,” he said into the microphone. “I took a bullet in the leg, and it’s bleeding badly. There’s a hospital just a couple miles away, I’m headed for the emergency room there. Anybody got a line on Heinrich?”

  “Okay, Sam,” Denny said. “Heinrich made it to a car, he’s long gone. I’m sorry, Sam, he’s in the wind.”

  “Sam, this is Rob,” came the big man’s voice. “One of my people got a round into the car, but Heinrich was not hit. I’m mobile, and so are a few others. We are looking for him.”

  “Okay, keep me updated. Denny, get the girls and Darren and meet me at the hospital.” He dropped the radio and suddenly slumped in his seat, the car drifting to the left into oncoming traffic.

  Indie grabbed the wheel and pulled back into their own lane, then looked at Sam. Besides the blood from his hand and his leg, there was a quickly spreading pool of blood coming from his right side. The bullet that had smashed through her window had hit him, and he suddenly coughed, spraying blood all over the steering wheel.

  “Sam,” Indie cried frantically. “You’re bleeding really bad! Can you get us to the hospital?”

  “I don’t…” His head fell forward, and his good hand dropped from the steering wheel.

  “Sam?” He didn’t respond, so Indie grabbed the wheel again. Sam’s foot was still on the gas pedal, so she grabbed hold of his leg and dragged it off, then steered the car toward the side of the street. She spotted the entrance to a parking lot and jerked the wheel to put them inside, then grabbed the parking brake and yanked it upward. The car chattered to a stop and she hit the button to shut down the engine.

  Sam was barely conscious, his head leaning against her. Indie wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. “Sam? Sam, talk to me. Oh, God, Sam hold on!”

  “… love you...” Sam muttered, but then his eyes glazed over and he collapsed and fell against her. Indie grabbed his cell phone from the console and dialed 911.

  “911,” the operator answered. “What is your emergency?”

  “My husband has been shot, I need an ambulance. We’re in the parking lot of a drugstore, but I don’t know the address.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I have your location. I’m dispatching police and an ambulance right now. Is your husband breathing?
”

  Indie began to cry, but she tried to check to see if she could detect Sam’s breath. She couldn’t tell, so she began feeling for a pulse on his throat, but didn’t find one.

  “I don’t know,” she wailed. “Please, please tell them to hurry!”

  People were coming out of the surrounding buildings and gathering around the car, staring at the bullet-riddled window and the sobbing girl inside. Some of them were pointing and a few were taking pictures with cell phones, but Indie ignored them.

  Sam gasped suddenly, a quick, short breath, but Indie held him tight. “That’s it, Sam, hang on,” she said through her sobs. “Help is coming, Sam, you gotta hold on.”

  An ambulance suddenly appeared, its siren shrieking. It pulled into the parking lot beside the car, and then a police squad car slid to a stop just behind it. Paramedics rushed to the car and yanked opened the driver’s door, reaching in to carefully pull Sam out and put him on a stretcher. Indie climbed out of her side of the car and ran around to stay near Sam, but the paramedics told her to stay back.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  She started to scream at them to get out of her way, that the man they were trying to help was her husband, but then someone took hold of her arm and she spun around. Denny Cortlandt was there, and after a moment, she threw her arms around him. It took her a moment to focus enough to understand what he was saying and that he was walking her toward another car.

  “Come on, love, we’ll follow the ambulance. They’re doing everything they can for him, Indie. Come on, get into my car so we can follow them. We’ll worry about Sam’s car later.”

  Indie held his hand as he took her to his car, looking back and watching over her shoulder as the paramedics worked to keep Sam alive. She kept telling herself that he must still have some life left in him, because one of them had started an IV even before they got him inside the ambulance. A moment later, they lifted the stretcher up and pushed it into the ambulance. The doors closed behind them and the siren screamed as the ambulance raced toward the hospital.

  Denny opened the door for her and then hurried around to get behind the wheel. It was only a couple of minutes before they pulled up at the hospital and Denny parked the car just outside the emergency entrance. The ambulance was backed up to it and the staff and paramedics were already pushing Sam through a pair of glass doors.

  Denny helped Indie out of the car, then put an arm around her as they walked inside. “She’s with the bloke they just carried in,” he said. “That’s her husband.”

  The nurse looked at Indie’s bruised face. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, “this girl’s been beaten! Come on, honey, you come with me.” She took Indie’s arm and guided her into the same room Sam had been taken into and put her on another table.

  “Is he gonna be okay?” Indie asked, and the doctor who was working on Sam looked around at her.

  “He’ll make it,” the doctor said, smiling at her. “He’s got enough scars to tell me that he must be a pretty strong fellow. I got a steady heartbeat, a little weak but still going, but he’s lost a lot of blood. We’re getting some into him now, just getting him stabilized so we can get the bullets out of him and put him back together. I think he’s going to be okay, I really do.”

  The nurse glanced over her shoulder at the doctor for just a second. “That’s Doctor Rashid,” she said. “He’s the best trauma surgeon in Los Angeles County, as far as I’m concerned. If he says your husband is going to make it, then it’s a pretty safe bet that he’s going to turn out okay. You want my opinion, you are pretty damn lucky that he was on duty when your husband was brought in. Some of the other doctors here, I wouldn’t give you a plugged nickel for them.”

  Indie managed a very small smile and then shock and exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks. She lay back on the bed and relaxed as the nurse started applying a painkilling cream to her bruises.

  “Well, I don’t think you have any serious injuries,” the nurse said. “But I’d like to get my hands on whoever smacked you around. It wasn’t your husband, was it?”

  Indie shook her head, but she was rapidly succumbing to exhaustion.

  The nurse smiled down at her. “Okay, well, we can talk about all that later, sweetie. You just need to get some rest, so you go right ahead and take yourself a nap.”

  Indie started to nod, but sleep overtook her.

  Unfortunately, the nap didn’t last long. Indie was awakened by the nurse just a few minutes later and looked up to see several police officers looking down at her. She looked over at where Sam had been laying and saw that he was gone, and then looked back at the nurse in a panic.

  “Sorry to bother you, honey,” the nurse said. “Your husband is in surgery, and everything is going fine. I'll be back to tell you more as soon as I know it, but these policemen need to speak with you.” She glanced sternly at the officers, then turned and left the room.

  “You’re Mrs. Prichard, right?” asked a man in plainclothes. “I’m Detective Robertson, LAPD. It seems your husband was shot up during a shooting at the Fisherman’s Net a little while ago. Can you tell me what you were doing there?”

  “Yes,” Indie said. “Just a moment, let me get my ID.” She was still wearing the black uniform and reached into her back pocket for her Windlass ID. She handed it over and then told the detective to read the DHS endorsement on the back.

  His eyes went wide. “Okay, so you and your husband are federal agents?”

  “Contract agents,” she said. “We work for Windlass Security, which is contracted to the Department of Homeland Security. We were at the club to try to apprehend a terrorist named Heinrich Wegner. The people who were shooting the customers were his men, and some of ours were working to take them out.”

  The detective looked at her for a moment, then glanced at the ID again. “This says I’m supposed to call this number in D.C. Should I do that right now?”

  “It’ll probably make this whole thing go a lot smoother if you do,” Indie said.

  Five minutes later, the officers left the hospital after getting Indie’s assurance that she and Sam would not leave town before making their official statements. A short time later, the nurse returned to tell her that the doctor had removed the bullets and was closing Sam up.

  “That’s good,” Indie said. “Listen, is there a phone I can use? I need to call…”

  “If you’re about to say you need to call the rest of your people, I can save the phone company the trouble. I’ve got about twenty people out in the waiting area, all asking about you and your husband. I told them that you will be out in a few minutes, so you can talk to them about it then. Okay?”

  “Yeah,” Indie said with a smile. “Can I go out there now?”

  “Let me get you discharged,” the nurse said. “I'll be back in just a minute with the paperwork, and then you can go talk to your friends.”

  True to her word, she returned less than five minutes later and let Indie sign the papers that would free her from the emergency room. When that was done, she helped her get off the bed and steadied her for a couple of steps while she got her legs back under her.

  Indie went out to the waiting area and found everyone sitting or standing around. Denny and Summer saw her first and rushed over.

  “Indie, how’s Sam?” Denny asked. “How bad was it?”

  “The doctor says he’s going to be okay,” Indie said. “He’s in surgery right now, but they already got the bullets out and they’re closing him up. He should probably be in recovery pretty soon, but he may be stuck in the hospital for a few days.”

  The rest of them had spotted her by then, and she was suddenly the center of a crowd. Walter surprised everyone by reaching out and grabbing Indie’s hand. “Is Sam okay?” he asked, showing more emotion than usual. “Where is Sam?”

  Steve put an arm around his shoulders. “He’s gonna be okay, Walter,” he said. “He’s gonna be okay, and Indie is all right, too. Sam had to go to surgery and get some bullets removed, but he’s goin
g to be all right. We’ll come back and see him tomorrow, okay? Tonight, we should just let Indie be with him.”

  Walter looked at Steve, then turned back to Indie. “Sam’s okay, right?”

  She smiled and nodded. “He’s going to be fine, Walter.”

  Darren and Jade joined the crush around Indie, and then Rob and the rest of his men insisted on their own chance to give her a hug. They sat in the waiting room chairs and Denny went to the vending machine to get Indie a soft drink. They had been sitting there for about thirty minutes when the doctor suddenly appeared.

  “Mrs. Prichard? I wanted to tell you that your husband came through surgery just fine. We removed the bullet from his leg, and another from his chest, and that required repairing his right lung. Everything went very well, and I expect he’s going to make a full recovery. It’ll be a little sore for a while, so I’m going to suggest he take a couple of weeks off. He’ll probably be here with us for about three or four days, but then you can take him home.”

  “Is he in recovery? Can I see him?”

  “You can see him, but he won’t be awake for a little while yet. I’m afraid it’s just you for the moment, everyone else will have to wait until he’s transferred to his own room.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on, I'll take you to him right now.”

  Indie hugged several of them one more time, then followed the doctor down the hall. They got into an elevator and rode up one floor, and then he opened the door to the recovery room where Sam was lying in bed with hoses sticking into him in various places. There was a chair beside the bed, and Indie sat in it and reached up to hold her husband’s hand.

  Despite what the doctor had said about Sam being asleep for a while, his eyes flickered open. He looked around the room for a moment, and then spotted Indie’s face.

  “Baby? You okay?” he asked.

  She smiled and tears started running down her cheeks. “I’m fine, babe,” she said. “How are you feeling?”