“Let’s focus on the problem. If this is the militia, and I think it is, they want us in here. So before we lead these people into any morebooby traps, I want to clear the next nearest exit, the one that goes to the underground parking lot. It’s open; Clare and I took a look.” He lifted his chin to the guards. “Are either of you carrying?”
“I am.” Johnson reached under the back of her sweater and pulled out a Sig Sauer.
“Good. You, me, and Kevin are going to scout that parking lot.”
“I’m not armed, Chief.”
“No, but you’re fast. We might need that.”
Voices arose from the crowd, which had been mostly silent up till now. A middle-aged woman stepped forward. “What about us? What’s going on? What are we doing?”
Russ looked from his wife to Jess Oppenheim. “Can you two brief them? I can’t think of anyone better at keeping the calm than a priest and a rabbi.”
Oppenheim managed a tilted smile. “All we need is a minister.”
“Or a duck.” Clare squeezed his arm for a split second. “Be safe.”
“Always.” He ignored her skeptical hum. “Johnson, Kevin, with me.”
They took a measured pace, neither fast nor slow, scanning the walls and ceilings of the south concourse as they went. “Keep your eyes open for anything that might be a spy camera. I’m thinking those columns are the most likely place.” Russ pointed toward the I-beam-like supports sheltering long fluorescent lights inside.
“You think they might be filming us?” Kevin sounded uneasy.
“Makes sense,” Johnson said. “Live feed, maximize the terror effect.”
A quick look into each column didn’t yield any results other than slowing their pace. So, maybe no cameras. What were they waiting for? Russ glanced at yet another jolly pile of “presents” and suppressed a shudder.
He stopped as they drew near to the corridor leading to the parking lot. The performing arts center box office flanked the corner, and the three of them pressed against a large screen advertising upcoming shows and concerts.
“You can see from here it’s a wide corridor. The far end branches off, that’s where the entrances to the admin buildings are. Lockedtight right now.” He kept his voice low. “I’m not sure if we can exit the parking garage, but we can definitely get everyone well away from the explosives. The pinch point will be the elevators down to the parking garage, so we’ll have to keep tight control of the civilians.”
“Sounds good,” Johnson said. “If there aren’t any surprises. What’s the plan?”
“We go in and press the elevator buttons. If there’s anyone waiting in the garage, I want them focused on those doors. Then we take the emergency stairs down. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Good to go, Chief.”
He rounded the corner. From the shadowy corridor at the end, there was a blur of movement, a startlingCRACKand an almost simultaneoussmashbehind him, as if someone had flung a box of glass ornaments to the floor. Johnson’s hand tightened in his shirt and Russ was yanked back to safety, boots flailing to keep up.
“What the hell!” Kevin grabbed his shoulders, looking frantically for a wound.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Russ pushed him away. Across from the corridor, one of the glass doors leading to the performing arts center had a hole blown through the middle, jagged remnants matching the glass shards sprayed across the tile floor. He took a breath. “I don’t think he was trying to kill me.”
“Yet.” Johnson let that hang in the air.
Russ sidled next to the opening. “Chief!” Kevin hissed.
Russ patted the air, a silentsettle down.“Hey!” he shouted. “Can we talk?”
The answer was another rifle shot. The exploding glass sound was much farther away this time—the bullet had passed precisely through the open hole, to be stopped by another set of doors closer to the theater. There went any hope for a poor marksman who’d been aiming for him but missed.
“Look.” Kevin leaned in. “What if you two lay down covering fire and I make a dash for the gunman?”
“No. That corridor is thirty or forty feet long.”
“And there’s no place for us to safely fire from,” Johnson added. “A good shot could take us both out and then pick you off at will.”