Page 73 of Every Last One
“Gail and I got the upper hand on him. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he left me no choice.”
“Is he still alive?” It seemed likely since she’d locked him in the storage room. A dead man wasn’t a threat.
“He’s only been knocked out. I locked him in a storage room where he shouldn’t bother anyone.”
“And his phone?” He might have an active number for the shot caller on the eighth floor.
There were a few seconds of silence. “Oh, God. It’s on him. I should have taken it from him, shouldn’t I? If he comes to, he can call his friends and?—”
“Maria.” Sandra spoke in a smooth, comforting tone to stop the woman from spiraling out. She couldn’t ask Maria to risk her life trying to retrieve it. “You did a good job getting him locked away. Just remember regrets and worrying about things do nothing but rob you of your energy. All right?”
“Yeah, but it’s hard not to worry. If Jordon’s going to survive, he will need surgery to remove the bullet and stitch up the damage it caused. The elevators are locked, and the operating room he needs is on the first floor.”
Sandra glanced over at Luis. He told them he could remotely activate the elevators, but doing so would potentially put other lives at risk. People on them might unload onto the second, sixth, and eighth floors where perps with guns were still roaming. They couldn’t count on Feeney, on the second floor, staying in the restroom forever.
Neal’s phone rang, and he answered quietly before stepping out of the command vehicle.
“Sandra?” Maria said. “Please help him. He means everything to me.” Maria started crying, and Sandra’s heart felt like it had been stabbed through with a stake.
“I’m sorry that you’re going through this, that Jordon is, and while it might seem like this is taking a long time, we are doing everything we can out here to bring this lockdown to a safe and peaceful resolution.” Sandra heard her words as they cycled back to her ears. All the plural pronouns boiled down to one thing. She assumed the outcome on her shoulders, be that good or bad. With that weight, her thoughts went to Gail and Phoebe Chapman. “You said Gail helped you subdue the man. Did you take his gun from him?”
“Yes, I have it on me.”
“Okay, and how are Gail and Phoebe?”
“I had to resuscitate Phoebe a second time, but she’s resting now. The man knocked Gail to the floor too. She took a solid hit, but she’ll be okay. I don’t see evidence she’s concussed. She’s with her daughter, where I told her to stay.”
“We saw that another doctor went into the nurse break room. Is someone else hurt in there?”
“Nurse Mahoney. He was shot in the arm.”
“And his current condition?”
“Stable.”
That only had Sandra breathing moderately easier. “Do you still have my number, Maria?”
“No, I…”
“It’s okay. I’m going to give it to you again. Do you have a piece of paper to write it down?”
A few seconds, then, “Yes, go ahead.”
Sandra rattled off her number. “Did you get that? I can repeat it again.”
Maria read it back to Sandra. “That right?”
“Yes. Call me if things change on your end.”
“Will do.”
“And, Maria, you’ve done a great job so far, but please, don’t play the hero. Help is coming.”
“Thank you.” Maria disconnected the call.
Sandra looked over at the table where Luis was hunched over his laptop. “Luis,” she said.
He turned toward her. “Yeah?”
