Page 24 of Every Last One
It felt like everyone in the room was watching him. Jordon should be used to the spotlight being born a Maddox, a sole heir at that, but it never got any easier. He wanted to make his mark as an exceptional neurosurgeon to help people, not for fame or money. If the latter was his driver, he didn’t need to get up and do anything in the morning because his trust fund was sizable enough to finance generations.
Mahoney was looking pale and clammy, and his breathing was becoming a little choppy.
“Let me look at him again, see what I can do.” Jordon made the petition while not holding out much hope.
The gunman waved his weapon, directing Jordon to Mahoney on the couch. Jordon first inspected the wound and saw that the bleeding had slowed to nothing. The fabric of Jordon’s coat hadn’t gotten any more soaked with blood. That was a good thing. Jordon pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and listened to Mahoney’s heart. The beats were even but a bit on the slow side and indicative of low blood pressure. “He needs surgery and medication, or he could die.” If the gunman obliged to the latter, Jordonmightbe allowed to leave the room.
“Neither is happening.”
“Do you want him to die?”
The man put the gun in Jordon’s face, and he withdrew, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Hello there. Anyone on this frequency?” A woman’s voice cut into the room. It was coming over the walkie-talkie. It wasn’t the one who a moment ago had told the gunman to get off the radio. This one was different. Jordon felt a bud of hope in his chest.
“This is Sandra. Who are you?”
The gunman’s gaze became a blank stare before he started to pace again. He put his back to them, and Jordon eyed the jammer that was still on the counter. With the man distracted, he might be able to spring to his feet and smash the thing before the gunman had a clue.
Jordon quietly made his way over there, having just enough time to retrieve the jammer and race back to Mahoney. Jordon pushed the jammer under the couch in a fluid motion as he got down on his knees.
The woman said over the walkie-talkie, “Everyone out here is worried about you in there. Is everyone all right?”
Sandra had to be a cop or negotiator. There might be hope for a rescue yet. Jordon wanted to scream that a man had been shot and needed surgery. But to what end? The gunman would need to hold the button down to open the line of communication. And then Jordon would need to feel especially lucky.
“Everyone’s fine. Now get lost.” The man tossed the walkie-talkie into his backpack.
Jordon went cold. He was going to notice the jammer was missing. Jordon tensed and made eye contact with Nurse Winters.
The gunman had gone still. The room was quiet except for Mahoney’s panting.
Please don’t notice…But Jordon knew it was too late for that wish to come true when the gunman turned around and leveled his gaze at him.
“You!” the man hissed. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Jordon pretended to be immersed in Mahoney’s care, oblivious to whatever crisis the gunman was undergoing. But he saw the judgment in his adversary’s eyes. It was a fair one, but bitter in these circumstances. He was an excellent surgeon but a terrible actor. And an even worse liar.
“Don’t play dumb with me. Where did you put the jammer?” The gunman was quickly at Jordon’s side. The gun was aimed at his head. “Hand it over now.”
It was like the device was sending out a pulse that Jordon could feel. If he destroyed it, this nightmare could be brought to an end. Or would it make it worse? But the police needed to know what was going on in here. People needed to reach their loved ones. Just as he would give anything to speak with Maria and lay a hand over her stomach and talk to their child. He beamed them both as much love as possible, hoping they’d sense it. The man holding the gun may rob him of everything.
“I said, hand it over.” The muzzle was pressed against his skull.
It was still warm from shooting Mahoney. The gunman wasn’t the image of a violent character, but his actions confirmed his capability.
“I’ll get it for you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have.”
“It’s just… It’s under the couch. I must reach for it.” Jordon dragged out the situation, moving slowly, trying to scheme some way out of this. A way to bring it all to an end. Though there was at least one other person with a gun. The woman who had yelled at the man over the walkie-talkie a moment ago. He could swear it was the same one who had said, “Secured,” at thebeginning of this. Well, she sounded vicious. What would keep her from storming into this room? But Jordon had the answer to his question the moment it had formed. She must not be on this floor. And with the lockdown, she wouldn’t be able to come in here.
“Hurry up,” the gunman urged.
Jordon never cared for being rushed. It was a pet peeve, and a possible weakness. But the gunman’s prompting only made him want to rebel. He surprisingly kept a cool head until he rose to his feet, putting some space between them. The device was in his hand, and the gunman had lowered his gun, his guard down, to take it from Jordon.
“You want the jammer?” Jordon asked. “Here it is.” He hurled it at the gunman’s head.
Startled, the gunman ducked out of the way just before the device hit him, and the gun dropped from his hand. The jammer sailed across the room, smashed into the wall, and fell to the floor in a jumble of pieces.
