Peril (24 page)

“Sacred Heart Children's Hospital.”

“This is Morgan Adams. I'm the charge nurse in the PICU where gunmen are holding people hostage. I need to talk with the police.”

There was a scurry of activity on the other side of the phone. Voices muffled through a hand cupped over the receiver.

A deep, male voice took over the line. “Morgan, my name is Lee Watson. I'm commander of the SWAT team. How's everything up there?”

She eyed her captor; a questioning look crossed his face.
How much is he going to allow me to say?

“I just want you to know that everything's okay up here.”

Silence.
Is he contemplating what his next move will be?

“There have been reports of gunfire,” he said.

“I needed to get into our locked pharmacy for medications. They were helping me.”

“How many are there?”

Morgan pulled the phone from her ear. “He's asking questions. What do you want me to tell him?”

Scott took a step away from her, his dark eyes like matted, gray paint. “Tell him whatever you like. Just be careful.”

Invisible threads wove around her neck and tightened like a noose. Then her defiant streak pushed back. If she was going to die, she might as well go out by helping the others as much as she could. What did she have to live for anyway? A mother who lied to her? A husband whose distance
surely spelled divorce? A father—well, which one should she call father and what sort of relationship would they have in the future?

She placed the phone back to her ear.

“Morgan, are you there?”

No time to be polite. “They're going to arm the doors with explosives.” The thought of people dying unnecessarily in a heroic rescue attempt was unacceptable. Scott's nonplussed reaction to her statement soured her gut.

“You're not on speaker?”

“No.”

The pause told her the answer surprised him.

“Tell me the name of the puppet boy whose nose grew longer when he lied.”

Morgan bit into her lip. Surely, this was a test. If she answered incorrectly, he would know for sure his side of the conversation wasn't being listened in on.

“
Sleeping Beauty
. And a few other kids' movies. That would really help with some of the children.”
Bree at least
.

Was that a sigh of relief that crossed the line?

“Excellent,” Lee Watson said. “How many gunmen are there?”

“It's the one with the three fairy godmothers.” She cupped her hand over the receiver to Scott. “Never ask the police for children's movies. Not up on the Disney princesses.” He ignored her humor.

Lee's voice in her ear. “Got it. Three men. I'm assuming they are armed. Yes?”

“Correct.”

“Have they made threats?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what their demands are?”

She pulled the phone from her ear. “They want to know what you want.”

Scott laid the weapon down on the countertop. “Tell him I need to speak to Dr. Thomas Reeves. The one everyone thinks cured post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Morgan involuntarily stepped away from the weapon. Definitely an item she never imagined would be at the nurses' station.

Watson's calm voice spoke. “I heard that. Why does he want to speak with Thomas Reeves?”

Her eyebrows rose in a question to Scott. “They want to know why.”

“Let's just say he owes us an explanation. Get him here on-site and I'll list my demands.”

“Got that, too,” Lee said. “Is anyone injured?”

How could she answer that adequately? “There are no new injuries.”

“How many children?”

“I have seven patients.”

“Staff?”

“Four nurses and one parent. Also a flight team paramedic—it's how they got into the unit.”

Scott placed his hand over the gun. Her heart skipped several beats.
Too much information that time?

“Can any patients be evacuated?”

She eyed the unit. “Three for sure. Four are on ventilators so it would be more difficult.”

“Meaning oxygen?”

“Yes.”

“And they need power to run?”

“Yes.”
Why those two questions?

“What is it you need up there, Morgan? You are doing a terrific job. I know this is very frightening, but we have lots of people here to help. We're working hard to resolve this peacefully.”

She swallowed thick sludge down her throat. It's the same type of speech she gave to parents when things were going south and she didn't want them to panic. Calm them down. Make them feel like someone competent was managing the situation.

“I need a doctor and a respiratory therapist. Or at least phone access to them.”

“How about medicine? Food? Water?”

“I have access to the unit's pharmacy. Water is working. There're two vending machines in the staff lounge for food if needed. I have snacks for patients and families in a small refrigerator. It's not ideal, but we'd be okay for a little while.”

“How long could you hold out with those current supplies?”

Her throat constricted tighter. He didn't sound hopeful the situation would resolve quickly. If she said how long it could really be, would that give the hostage takers reason to drag out their scenario—whatever that was?

Commander Watson seemed to pick up on her thought process. “Days? You could last days up there?”

“Physically, yes.”

“Morgan, I understand. You're in a tough position. Sick children. Worried staff and parents. Does the gunman nearest you have a name?”

“Scott.”

“Put him on the phone.”

She held the phone out. “He wants to speak with you.”

He clicked the speaker button and grabbed her hand to push the handset back. “You're on speaker.”

“Scott, I'm Lee. I work with the police.”

Silence.

“Morgan?”

“We're here.”

“Great. Scott, can you let me in on your plan?”

“Why are you making me repeat what she said? I want to talk to Dr. Thomas Reeves. Get him here and I'll let you in on the rest.”

“Okay, we're working on that. Can you give me something in return? Morgan says some of the children could be evacuated. Will you allow her to release the children that can be moved?”

“I'm not ready to do that. We need them here.”

“Okay. One, I want to thank you for helping Morgan get access to the pharmacy. That will help her manage the patients. I also want to say thanks for allowing her to contact us. As we work to resolve this issue, can you allow her everything she needs? Will you let a doctor into the unit?”

“Morgan here's been doin' all right. She's been getting the stuff the children need. Ordered blood and everything.”

Morgan edged up onto her toes. “Scott, ICU nurses are very smart but we're not doctors. I need one here. I can't manage these patients without one. I don't know everything they need.”

He glared at her. “Like I told the police officer, you're doing fine. You don't need anyone else.”

“That's not true—” For the first time, the threat of tears made her eyes burn. “Nurses and doctors do different things. Please, don't put me in this position. You're forcing me to operate off my license, and one of these children could be hurt by that. I can't handle the thought of my decision being responsible for a child's death.”

His eyes softened. “Because that's already happened, right?”

The room hazed as the blood drained from her head. She gripped the desk for support.
Does he know about Teagan? How could he know that?

She flinched as he laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I trust you.”

His trust in her didn't hold much weight. But did she trust herself? Her own clinical ability? For the last three months, she'd been pushing everyone away to stand on her own.

“Hey, guys,” Lee's voice interrupted over the speakerphone.

Morgan was sliding down the slope where Lee didn't want her to go. Her own crisis training had taught her that. Panic and arguing could be the first nail in her coffin. She pressed her thumb and forefinger into her eyes.

“Please, let me at least have access to a doctor over the phone.”

“Scott, that seems like a reasonable request on her part.”

His fingers coiled around the weapon, tight to the point that the blood was forced from his hands. Why was this so difficult?

“No!”

Morgan jumped. Her heart in her throat. “Please, Scott. One by phone. That's it.”

He disconnected the call and glared her way. “You're going to have to do with what you have. Just like we do when we're on a mission.”

Morgan took two steps away. “Okay. I understand. I'll make it work.”

“Now, you're going to do something for me. Is there someplace we can go that's private?”

Morgan glanced around the unit. Her staff mirrored her concern—more like abject terror.
Why does he want to be alone?
“The staff lounge.”

“Great.” He signaled to his two cohorts. “Dylan. Jose. Morgan and I are going to take a quick break. You two know what you need to be working on.” He tossed the bags of IV solution in their direction. “Be back in a few.”

They nodded and went to a more central location. Scott grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her muscle like talons on scooped prey. “Show me the way.”

Her legs felt weak as she began to move. To hasten her, he jammed the weapon between her shoulder blades. She punched the code into the lock and opened the door. The staff lounge TV was on and there was the news feed with the title:
Chaos at Children's
.

“Turn and face me.”

She raised her hands and turned slowly.

“We're going to make a little video.”

Chapter 29

1040, Saturday, August 11

N
ATHAN AND
B
RETT
jogged two short blocks to the scene.

The sun bounced bright off the glass, and Nathan wondered how such a beautiful day could hold such darkness. Sacred Heart Children's Hospital sat on a medical campus that housed several other medical facilities. The front entrance was congested with police and the large SWAT command vehicle. The glass doors swooshed as they pulled open, and Nathan partially saluted the officer who was holding vigil at the front door with a hospital employee.

“Where's the command center?” Nathan asked.

“Second floor. Conference Center.” He pointed to a bank of glass elevators.

Upon arrival, they were directed to a cavernous boardroom. A team of IT types were setting up additional computers and phones. Brett motioned toward Lee Watson directly across the room, and they headed his direction. A man in a gray, pinstriped suit stood next to him. Lee gave a nod to Nathan when they approached.

“This is Daniel Horton,” Lee said by way of introduction. “He's CEO of the hospital.” To Horton he said, “This is Nathan Long. He'll be serving as hostage negotiator.”

The two shook hands briefly. Nathan said a silent prayer of thanks that Lee had inserted him into the situation so seamlessly. Now he was officially on this case, working in his SWAT capacity, instead of trying to squeeze himself in as a homicide detective.

The CEO pointed to the woman next to him. “This is the nursing supervisor, Kathleen Young. She's our on-site incident commander.”

Nathan shook her hand as well. “Nice to meet both of you. Why don't you give me a rundown of what's occurred thus far.”

Lee surmised the security guard had been shot to gain access to the
roof. What was unknown was how the gunmen would have known a helicopter was landing at that particular time.

“They could be monitoring the dispatch center. Then they'd know when the medical teams were coming and going,” Nathan proposed.

Brett shook his head. “That's a lot to bank on. It would mean their plan was pretty fluid. It seems to me, for such high stakes, there's a person in the unit they want control over.”

“Has there been any contact?” Nathan asked.

“I just got off the phone with the charge nurse and one of the hostage takers,” Lee said.

The nursing supervisor glanced at her clipboard. “Morgan Adams. She's an asset. Good in high stress situations.”

Nathan and Brett glanced at one another.

“What is it?” Lee asked.