Page 5 of Every Last One
“The MPD’s Emergency Response Team has their own negotiators,” Brice said.
“Thank you, Agent Sutton, for that wealth of information. I had no idea.” Sarcasm dripped from Elwood’s words. “But since you called me out, there is more to this. The director received a call requesting that we put our people in there. MPD will supply the command vehicle and officers to round out the team, but Vos, you’ll take lead. Sutton, you’re second and support.”
His directive left her with more questions. For one, it would take some special pull to get the CNU called in for a fresh crisis incident where local law enforcement should be able to handle it. “A call from whom?” She was certain there was more than was being said, and to be a successful negotiator she needed to be armed with as much intel as possible.
Elwood took a deep, staggering breath. “I should have known you’d ask. Ilene Maddox.”
“As in Maddox Industries, one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the United States?” Brice cut in.
“The very same.”
“And how does she know the director exactly?” Sandra asked.
“Her husband and the director are golfing buddies and belong to some fancy dinner club. They also donate tens of thousands to the FBI. Does it matter? Go.” Elwood thrust a pointed finger toward the exit.
Brice took a few steps, but Sandra stayed put. “And how did she come to know about the situation?”
“What is this? A hundred questions?”
“The more I’m armed with going in, the better.” There was a pull to get to the scene, but she needed to balance this with her hunger for answers.
“She was on the phone with her son, who is an attending doctor. Name’s Jordon Maddox. They were mid-conversation when their call was cut off. Just before the line went dead, she heard someone say, ‘he’s got a gun.’”
“And what floor does he work on?” she asked.
“He’s assigned to the fourth. That doesn’t mean that’s where he was when the hospital went into lockdown,” Elwood said, impatience coating his tone. “But it’s likely.”
“All right. Let’s get going.” She turned to Brice. “I’ll drive.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” he said.
“You can if it means so much to you.”
“Just get your asses there,” Elwood barked, shaking his head.
It was impossible to park close to the hospital, but it was standard to shut down the surrounding vicinity in a case likethis. Word was out judging by the crowds gathered behind a cordon line and the MPD officers battling to keep people back.
Sandra approached one officer facing off with a woman in her mid-thirties.
“My sister’s in there. You need to let me by,” she told him.
“Ma’am, you’re not going anywhere,” the officer said.
The woman stepped forward, and he held his hands out to stop her. She tried to circumvent his efforts and wound up being grabbed by her upper arm.
“Ma’am, behind the line, or I will have no choice but to arrest you.”
The woman let out a scream. “You can’t just keep us here like a herd of cattle.”
“Ma’am, one more outburst and I will?—”
The woman turned around to face the crowd behind her. “The police are keeping us from our loved ones. We need to fight back.”
At first the crowd seemed to ignore her, but then the energy shifted. What was merely curiosity-driven now crackled with the hint of revolt. The situation needed to be cooled down quickly before it escalated any further.
“FBI!” she called out, stepping to the tape and putting her back to it. Brice stood beside her. “You are all here because you’re concerned about the people in Founders Hospital.”
There were mumbles of agreement. Some voices of contempt.
