Page 131 of Cross Down
Where is everybody?
She walks back into the suite, remembering her grandfather who was seriously burned in 1980 when the attempt to rescue American hostages in Iran ended in a flaming disaster in the middle of a desert.
As a child, she’d wondered how Grandpa felt that night.
Now she knows.
To Styles and Flynn, both in front of their terminals, she says, “Updates?”
Flynn says not a word, but Styles says, “Some disjointed and scrambled messages, ma’am. It looks like the assault is failing. Our people are being scooped up and arrested.”
Flynn says, “What now?”
Maria says, “Follow your orders. Wipe all hard drives, thumb drives, anything and everything that’s electronically recorded. I’ll gather up any paperwork and take care of it.”
The next few minutes pass with the techs punching keyboards as Maria feeds sheets of paper into a top-of-the-line GSA shredder, which not only shreds the notes and paperwork but also flash-burns the shredded bits into ashes and soaks them in acid.
When the three of them are finished, there’s the constant sound of sirens outside, along with the thrumming of helicopter blades.
Maria goes to Styles and Flynn. “All done?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Styles says.
“All wrapped up,” Flynn says. “Time for us to slip out?”
Maria shakes her head. “Not right now,” she says. “I’ve got orders as well.”
She takes out her pistol, and Flynn says, “Please, God, no!” and Maria shoots each of them twice, then retrieves the empty casings from the carpeted floor and grabs her go bag.
She goes out to the hallway, closes the door behind her, heads to the nearest elevator bank, and punches the button to bring an elevator car to her floor.
Didn’t work, did it,she thinks. There’s adingas the door slides open, and Maria whispers, “Maybe next time.”
Chapter
163
It’s nearly noonand the scene is loud, chaotic, with laughter interspersed with sweet insults and a few curses, but this is turning into one of the happiest days of my life—and of the Cross family’s life—and I won’t complain for one second.
We are in a small procession, Alex Cross leading the way in his wheelchair. I have the privilege, having earlier shoved aside Ali, Damon, and Jannie, of pushing him along as he finally leaves George Washington University Hospital.
Bree is on Alex’s right, tightly holding his hand, and Nana Mama is on his left, doing the same. Jannie is holding a bundle of strings belonging to a squadron of balloons, all of which wish Alex good health, and Damon and Ali are both carrying plastic bags containing greeting cards, gifts, and Alex’s discharge papers.
There’s laughter and joking. Nana Mama is running down a week’s worth of planned meals—“’Cause I know they do their best, but their food ain’t fit for anyone, healthy or healing”—and Ali babbles about going on a camping trip once his dad gets better, and Damon occasionally pats his father on the shoulder. Jannie just smiles with tears running down her cheeks.
And grabbing my left leg, making it hard to keep up with folks and maintain a steady pace, is my little Willow, happy to have Daddy home again.
Me too,I think,me too.
Alex turns and looks up at me, smiling. He’s freshly bathed and shaved, and he’s wearing khaki slacks and a dark blue polo shirt from home, but they are baggy around his shrunken frame.
Nana Mama has her work cut out for her, putting meat back on those tired bones.
A male nurse who’s accompanying us shoos away visitors and patients in front of us, and we’re out of the large lobby and into the fresh air of a late Washington, DC, morning, and it’s a beautiful day.
We’re on a curved driveway leading from the hospital lobby to I Street, right near the Foggy Bottom farmers’ market, and through the cars and the pedestrians, many of whom are people from the university, we can see scores of vendors and farmers working under tents and large umbrellas.
The nurse who’s with us bends down to Alex and says, “All right, Dr. Cross, I know you hate to hear this, but it’s hospital rules—you have to stay in your wheelchair until the vehicle taking you home is right in front of you. When that happens, you’ll require assistance moving from the chair to the car. Got that? Any questions?”
