“I know. I just feel naked without them. And I want to make sure we give Kate all the protection possible.” He grinned. “Anyway, it was worth a shot.”
“Well, stash the hardware away and let’s move. I don’t want to stand here any longer than necessary.”
Quinn pulled the gun out of his waistband at the small of his back and bent to put it in the box under his seat. Jake headed toward the passenger side to help Kate out of the truck. Just as he reached her, a soft thunk! sounded and the driver’s side window shattered.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as he heard it, Quinn recognized it for what it was. A shot from a weapon with a silencer. He whirled in a crouching stance, gun still gripped in his hand.
“Down!” he shouted. “Kate, get down.”
He looked only long enough to see that Kate wasn’t visible and Jake had pressed himself against the alcove wall, gun in hand. Eyes swiveling, Quinn searched for the source of the shot.
“Won’t need a gun?” he hollered to Jake.
He started to rise from his crouch when he heard another soft thunk!, and something pinged on the metal of the truck right next to him.
“A silencer,” he yelled. “Shots coming from the cars behind the elevator.”
Jake, still using the alcove for cover, now had his cell phone out. “I’m calling upstairs. Don’t take any chances.”
Using the parked cars as shields, Quinn moved to the other side of the elevator housing. Two more bullets zinged over his head and he fired in their direction. Then he heard a motor turn over and a door slam. Tires squealed as a car backed out of a space just up ahead and burned rubber toward the exit. Quinn stood up and fired three more shots at the retreating vehicle. He had the satisfaction of seeing glass shatter, but then the car was gone.
Shoving his gun back into the waistband of his pants, he ran back to his truck.
“Are you okay?” he asked Jake.
Garza, holding his cell phone to his ear, nodded.
“Kate?” he called as he came around the truck. “You can stand up now, darlin’, it’s okay.”
No one answered him. When he reached the passenger side of the truck his heart stopped beating. Kate lay crumpled on the floor, one arm outstretched, a pool of blood widening beneath her.
“Call for paramedics,” Quinn shouted to Jake as he knelt beside her, hands searching for the wound. “Tell them to get their asses here right now.”
The moments that followed were a kaleidoscope of activities for Quinn, shrinking and expanding. The shooting had barely stopped before the elevator doors opened and several men pounded out into the garage. Two of them were security guards with guns drawn, but Jake shook his head at them. Whoever had done this was long gone. Lane Barton and Dean Morgan crouched beside Quinn as he tried to assess Kate’s condition and find the source of the bleeding.
“EMTs are on the way,” Lane said. “Where’s she hit?”
“I don’t know.”
He was afraid to turn her over, afraid not to. Gingerly he rolled her toward him, saw the blood flowing from her arm and her side. He bunched up her blouse, yanked his handkerchief from his pocket, and pressed it against her side, the source of the greatest bleeding. Holding it tightly, he blinked at the tears clouding his eyes. Everything in the garage receded except for Kate, lying there so small and white, covered in blood.
“Kate? Darlin’? Can you hear me?”
I promised to protect her. If she dies it’s my fault. Shit, shit, shit. Not again. Please God, not again. Don’t let me fail twice.
Tires screeched as vehicles roared into the garage. Heavy footsteps sounded next to him. He felt a hand on his arm and shook it off.
“Quinn.” Jake’s voice, solid and steady. “The paramedics are here.”
Quinn didn’t move, or make any sign of acknowledgment.
“Quinn. Damn it, let them get to her.”
More hands, pulling him away, as two strangers in blue coveralls took his place beside Kate.
Voices, floating around him.
“Get a tourniquet and pressure packs on her.”
“She’s shocky. Start an IV drip now. Get the high-flow oxygen going.”
“Call the hospital. I’ve got the patches on for the EKG. Tell them to stand by for her vitals.”
Quinn loomed over them. “What is it? What’s going on? Damn it, someone tell me something.”
“She’s bleeding a lot,” one of the EMTs said. “She’s lucky, it’s not arterial blood. But the bullet’s still in her and we don’t know what damage it did. We need to get her to the hospital right away.”
“Kate.” His voice was anguished.
“They’re taking care of her.” Jake’s voice. Soft. Kind. Reassuring.
More people arriving. Men in suits, in casual clothes, in police uniforms. Lane Barton, looking like a thunderhead, issuing orders in a harsh voice.
Quinn shook his head to clear it, then barged his way into the ambulance. “I’m riding with her.”
No one was about to argue with him.
“I’ll bring your truck,” Jake told him, “and meet you there. Go ahead.”
Images piled on each other in his brain. The wild ride to the hospital, sirens screaming. Jogging beside the stretcher as they wheeled Kate into emergency, protesting violently when they insisted he wait outside the treatment area.
The normal activities of the hospital swirled and eddied around him, but he might have been in an isolation room for all the attention he paid to it. Jake, Dean, and Lane found him pacing the corridor in the trauma area, muttering curses under his breath.
“I brought her purse from the truck.” Jake shoved it into Quinn’s hands, along with the truck keys. “Just in case there was anything she needed. And your truck’s in the emergency parking lot.”
“How is she?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know. They won’t tell me a damn thing. God.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “How in hell did this happen? How did I let it happen?”
“No one let anything happen,” Jake stated. “What I’d like to know is how someone knew you guys were coming, and when? We didn’t discuss it with anyone.”
“There’s a leak somewhere,” Quinn said, anger deepening the lines of his face. He turned to Lane. “This is exactly what Kate tried to tell you. What she was afraid of. None of you took it seriously. Well, it’s serious now. You’d better fix it quick, damn it.”
“We had the San Antonio P.D. on the car immediately,” Dean told him. “It wasn’t out of the garage three minutes before they were on the hunt. Although I imagine whoever it was ditched it as soon as he could.”
“If we’re lucky maybe he left a trace behind,” Jake said. “A fingerprint. Anything.”
Before anyone else could comment, a doctor emerged from the treatment room, searching for someone, and Quinn stepped forward.
“What’s happening?” he demanded.
“I’m Dr. Halsey. Are you with the young woman just brought in?”
“Yes. I want to know what her condition is.”
“Are you family?”
“I’m her fiancé.” Quinn gritted his teeth, ignoring the shocked faces around him.
“All right. We’ve got her stabilized, but the bullet’s still inside her and we’ve got to get it out. I’ve called for a surgeon.”
“But she’ll be all right.” A statement. A question would bring answers he wasn’t ready to hear.
“I think so, but we can’t tell any more than that until we get her in surgery. Can you sign the consent forms for her?”
“Yes. Give them to me.” He grabbed the clipboard and scrawled his signature.
A man in green scrubs jogged down the hall and joined them. “I’m Dr. DeWitt, the surgeon.” He nodded at Halsey. “We’re all set upstairs. Let’s go.”
Quinn saw that two uniformed officers had arrived and were now stationed on either side of the treatment room entrance.
“They’ll be on guard out
side the operating area and recovery,” Lane told him, “and then outside her room. I cleared it with the hospital, then called SAPD, and they were only too happy to help. I could have put agents on the door, but I figured the uniforms look scarier if someone gets ideas.”
“Did anyone see anything? Hear anything? Did you check the guard logs at the garage entrance?” Quinn asked, raking his hands through his hair.
Trust me, I told her. I’ll take care of you. Damn, damn, damn.
Dean nodded. “Nothing. No one who shouldn’t be there.”
“Then how the hell did he get in?” Quinn’s eyes were wild, his jaw set. Images of Lisa and Nikki on the sidewalk flashed through his mind, then the picture of Kate lying bloody on the concrete. Not again, his mind screamed. God, please don’t let it happen again.
“You can bet I’ll find out.” Lane Barton loomed over them, his voice tight with anger. “And as soon as the cops find that car we’ll be going over it in minute detail. I don’t think the person driving it took the time to wipe it down clean enough.”
“This is my fault,” Quinn raged, sick with guilt. “I talked her into doing this. I told her I’d protect her and now she’s nearly dead because of me.”
“Hey,” Jake was beside him, one hand gripping his shoulder, “this is nobody’s fault. We knew they were narrowing their search. We just didn’t expect it in our own garage. Don’t beat yourself up over it. And she’s going to be fine. Believe it.”
Just then the doors to the treatment room opened and scrubs-clad figures wheeled a gurney out. Quinn homed in on it, ignoring people who tried to brush him aside, taking Kate’s small, cold hand in his own, trotting along as they moved rapidly down the hall. He felt sick as his eyes raked over her white face, the IVs running into her system, the various instruments attached to monitor her.
“I think she’ll be okay,” Dr. DeWitt said as they jogged along beside the gurney. “But we need to get her in the OR right now. Don’t hold us up, okay?”
They let Quinn ride up with them in the elevator, but when huge double doors swung open, they wheeled Kate through, and he was left alone again. He turned as a second elevator opened, the two cops from downstairs taking up their places outside the operating suite. Lane, Jake, and Dean were right behind them.
“Let’s go sit over there,” Dean said, gesturing toward a cluster of molded plastic chairs at the end of the hall. “Come on.”
“I can’t sit.” Quinn shook off the man’s arm. “Any news on the shooter’s car?”
“Not yet. And you can’t do Kate any good pacing the floor, either,” Lane said. “Let’s at least put our time to good use and see if we can make sense out of this.”
Reluctantly Quinn nodded and followed them to the waiting area.
“I didn’t even get to tell you it’s nice to see you again, Quinn,” Lane began. “We’ve missed you. Sorry for the hardass attitude about this but you have no idea the magnitude of this case. Or the reach of this organization.”
“This is why I didn’t want to bring her into town,” he reminded his former boss, his face twisted in agony.
“I think on this one it wouldn’t have mattered where you were. If they wanted her they were going to do their damnedest to get her.”
Exactly what Jake had said, last night and today.
Before Lane could say more, another crowd of men tramped off the elevator, some in suits and ties, others in jeans and polo shirts. Quinn recognized a few of them from the garage. Lane and Dean went to meet them.
“The guys on the strike force,” Jake told him in a low voice. “Some of them were at the office. The others were contacted at home. Lane’s going to bring everyone up to speed right now. Then he’ll meet with Noah and Clay and make assignments ASAP.” He looked at his friend. “We need to get you a change of clothes.”
Quinn glanced down. His shirt and T-shirt were soaked with blood. Kate’s blood. Her life, seeping onto him as he’d held her in his arms. Terror gripped him all over again. Could she lose this much blood and still be all right?
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving here.”
“I know. I know.” Jake sighed. “All right. Let me see what I can do.”
He got up and walked down the hall.
The group of men was just dispersing. Those who knew Quinn from before stopped to express concern. Then they were gone, back to their offices or out on the streets to piece together the night’s fiasco.
Jake was back in less than ten minutes carrying the top half of a set of hospital scrubs which he handed to Quinn. “Put this on. At least when Kate opens her eyes you’ll look semi-presentable.”
Lane Barton waited until Quinn had exchanged his bloody clothes for the cotton garments, then looked at him and said, “Give.”
Quinn forced himself to focus, dredging up every detail, every scrap of information he could remember. How he’d met Kate, everything she’d told him, all the information he and Jake had pulled from her. Jake added details that Quinn forgot. And then everything he could remember about the shooting. They went back and forth until Lane was satisfied there was nothing more to be had.
“You realize that first bullet was meant for you,” Jake pointed out. “If you hadn’t bent over to put your gun back in the truck, you’d be in the morgue right now.”
“A gun?” Dean, leaning against the wall, raised an eyebrow. “You were bringing a gun to the federal prosecutor’s office?”
“Yeah, and it looks like I needed it, doesn’t it?” Quinn dry washed his face with his hands. “I don’t understand, though. I thought Kate was already out of the truck when he fired.”
“She was just getting out,” Jake told him. “Another two seconds and she would have been safe.”
“They weren’t aiming that first shot at her, anyway,” Dean pointed out.
Quinn’s face was set in angry lines. “They needed to take me out to get to her. If I hadn’t bent down to stash the gun, I’d be the one in surgery now. Or the morgue. If the shooter had gotten me, the next bullet would have been for you, Jake, and Kate would be history. They want her alive, so they can find out what she’s told to who. And retrieve their flash drive.”
Jake’s face when he turned to his two bosses was grim. “I told you she was worried about a leak in our office. Looks like she wasn’t wrong after all.”
“Yeah, Quinn’s mentioned that once or twice.” Dean Morgan’s expression was dour.
“Speaking of that little item,” Lane said, “do you happen to know where it is now?”
Quinn had been holding onto Kate’s purse as if it were a life line. He hadn’t even thought of the flash drive while Kate’s hold on life was so tenuous. Now he opened the purse, reached inside and pulled out the little silver rectangle. “You’d better take damn good care of this thing. She may have given her life to protect it.”
Lane’s face was dark with fury but not at Quinn. “You can be sure as hell I’ll be asking a lot of questions in the morning. We also have to figure out where to stash Kate when the hospital releases her. A safe house. At least until we’ve got the Osunas locked up nice and tight.”
“Forget it,” Quinn said, in a voice that said don’t interfere. “I’ll be taking care of that. This is not up for discussion.”
“We’ll get back to that as soon as I find out how tonight happened.” Lane rose from the bench where he’d been sitting. “Dean and I need to get back to the office. I sent some of the men out on the streets but the rest will be pulling files and searching for anything we might have missed on the Osunas. We have a lot to do right now to figure out this mess.” He shook hands again with Quinn. “I want to make some other security arrangements here at the hospital, too. Jake, you want to walk to the elevator with me?”
Quinn watched the men speaking quietly in the hallway. He’d take whatever help he could get here, but then Kate was all his. He’d let her down once by listening to other people. It wouldn’t happen again. Next time he’d make the choices.
In a moment Jake was back, carrying two cups of vending machine coffee. Quinn drank without even tasting it. He paced. He sat. He paced again. Jake brought more coffee which he barely remembered drinking. Each time the doors to the operating suites opened he held himself erect, rigid, preparing for the expected blow. Each time, when only strangers emerged, he looked away.
At last, when he was sure he’d lose his mind, Dr. DeWitt came through the double doors, scraping his surgical cap from his head. He looked tired, but not solemn.
“She’ll be all right,” he said, before Quinn could get the question out of his mouth. “The bullet caught her arm because of the angle as it entered her side. It hit a rib and splintered, scattering fragments and nicking a lot of internal organs.” He wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. “We had to do a lot of repair work, and she’ll be in quite a lot of pain at first, but she’s going to be fine. She just won’t be running any relays for a while.”
“Can I see her?”
“Just for a second. She’s on her way to recovery. We’ll notify you as soon as we move her to a room. I wanted to put her in ICU, but Lane Barton killed that idea. He wants her isolated.”
Quinn nodded. “I agree.”
“We’ll set her up in a private room with whatever she needs. And Lane’s sending over his own nurses once she’s settled.” He turned as the doors opened behind him. “Here she comes now.”
If Kate’s appearance had scared Quinn before, the way she looked now terrified him. She was even paler, if that was possible, blending into the whiteness of the sheets. One arm was in the hospital gown, the other uncovered and swathed with bandages. More bulky bandages peeked out the side of the gown. But it was her utter stillness that made his heart stop.
“Are you sure she’s okay?” Quinn persisted. “She doesn’t look it.”
“She’s just had some very extensive surgery,” the doctor reminded him. “She lost a lot of blood and she’s still not out from under the anesthetic. Give her a couple of hours. Even then, I wouldn’t expect too much for a day or two.”
“All right.” Quinn reached for Kate’s limp hand and squeezed it, as if to assure himself that there was still some warmth in her body.
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