McCann made a turn and another turn. He was circling the block to give Bruce time to decide where they should go. The hospital and attached medical school took up about twelve blocks of downtown New Haven. “You saw us leave?” Dunn asked, looking at Sarah.
Amy looked in the mirror again.
“You want us to pick you up?”
“It could be a trap,” Sarah whispered.
“Captain Barnhardt, why don’t I come and see you alone. Maybe—”
McCann slammed on the brakes as a car pulled out of a side street right in front of them. The passenger side window of the car was partially shattered and there were holes along the side that had clearly been made by bullets. The driver stepped out, holding a cell phone to his ear.
“Too late,” McCann said under his breath.
The driver was short and squarely built. Under the street light, a Yankees cap shadowed most of his face. Amy saw him stare at the ambulance as he continued to talk into his phone.
“He says they know what Mako’s driving. If we want accurate information on the hijacking, we have to take him.” Bruce brought the phone down. “What do you think?”
“We can handle him,” McCann answered.
Barnhardt didn’t appear to have any doubts that they’d take him. He started for the passenger side, and Amy scrambled through between the seats into the back. Sarah motioned to her to sit low. She did.
Barnhardt opened the ambulance door, took a quick glance inside at all the faces and climbed in without any greeting.
McCann glared at the older man, then gave him a cold nod of recognition.
“You might want to turn your cell phones off. They’re using them like a homing device to track you,” Barnhardt told them, following his own suggestion and turning off his phone.
Bruce and Sarah were the only ones that had a cell phone on them. They both turned them off.
Darius backed up the ambulance and drove around the car Barnhardt had been driving. A moment later, they were racing down the street in the direction of New Haven’s downtown. “Where to?”
“Where there are lots of people and hopefully tons of reporters with television cameras. I’d like to have a stage for my performance,” Barnhardt said.
He sounded ruffled.
“There was supposed to be a political rally on the green tonight,” Amy said. “But that was before all the craziness happened today.”
“Try it,” Barnhardt told McCann. “It’s worth a shot.”
“You keep referring to they,” Sarah said. “Who are you referring to, Captain?”
Barnhardt looked over his shoulder at them. “What I have to tell you will probably mean your death sentence. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“They killed a sedated young man in his hospital bed ten minutes ago” Bruce challenged. “They were coming after commander McCann or Ms. Russell. I’d say the death sentence has already been issued.”
“You’re right. In fact, the crew left behind on Hartford was condemned to death the moment we sailed the sub away from that pier. Ms. Russell was included in that because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
McCann pulled the ambulance to the side of the road next to a boarded up mall and slammed on the brakes. All of them in the back were tossed around. Emergency apparatus and various supplies shifted and rattled. McCann lunged at Barnhardt, grabbing him by the throat and practically breaking the passenger side window with the man’s head.
“You commanded that operation,” he barked. “You killed members of my crew.”
The older man tried to reach for something at his belt, but McCann was faster. He took the gun and held it to Barnhardt’s head, his other hand still wrapped around the old sub driver’s throat.
“There’s no reason to lose your temper, Commander McCann,” Barnhardt rasped. “I called Commander Dunn. I climbed inside this ambulance of my own accord. I came to you to tell the absolute truth. I am voluntarily telling you everything I’ve done… and everything I know.”
McCann’s hold on the man’s throat didn’t ease a bit. “Nine of my crew members are dead. A billion dollar submarine is in danger of sinking to the bottom of Long Island Sound as we speak. A number of targets were hit using Hartford’s weapons. There are fatalities. How the hell can you say there’s no reason to lose my temper?”
Barnhardt didn’t flinch. He looked directly into McCann’s eyes. “You’re too emotional and loyal to be in this line of business, Commander. Sub drivers like us don’t see people. Death has only one dimension, and that dimension doesn’t touch us. We can’t afford to have friends. We’re given a job, and it’s our responsibility to obey our overarching orders, sometimes ignoring the gutless calls of paper pushers in a moment of crisis. We do what we have to do, no matter what the consequences.”
“Under whose orders did you take Hartford,” McCann asked.
Barnhardt tried to look down at where McCann’s hand squeezed his neck. “Commander Dunn, your friend is changing my mind about what I’d like to contribute to your investigation.”
“Regardless of what Commander McCann does,” Bruce told him, “you will contribute what you can, Captain Barnhardt. I believe you’ve been given the same death sentence and you’re looking for a way to save your life.”
“If my life was all that I was worried about, I’d be out of the country by now,” Barnhardt said. “No. I’m looking for a way to get even. But if you don’t get moving soon, none of us are going to live long enough to even any scores or solve any investigation. We’re sitting ducks here, and they’re going to spot us, sure as hell.”
McCann let go of the man’s throat and handed the gun to Bruce. The ambulance pulled back onto the road.
“Are we going to play games or are you going to start answering some of our questions?” Sarah asked.
“I want to make a deal first.”
“What do you want?” Bruce asked.
“Protection.”
Sarah and Bruce put their heads together for a couple of seconds, whispering to each other.
“There will have to be a guilty plea. We’ll ask for a reduced sentence,” Sarah told him.
“I’m not guilty. I was only following orders,” Barnhardt explained.
“Following orders is not a reasonable defense,” Sarah reminded him.
“I don’t care what the plea is. I want a guarantee that I walk.”
Bruce and Sarah spoke quietly among themselves again. Amy looked at McCann. She could see how he was struggling to stay neutral in this situation. Finally, he couldn’t stay quiet.
“Following orders,” McCann hissed at the man next to him. “Is that how you got the crew on Hartford to go along with the hijacking?”
“That’s correct, Commander. The ones who helped us believed the entire operation was just an elaborate naval exercise. A terror response drill. They were following specific orders.”
“Given by you?”
“Yes. They knew me. But they knew the entire mission was also approved by someone above me.”
“Who?” McCann asked.
Barnhardt looked over his shoulder at the two investigators. “Do we have a deal?”
Dunn was the one who spoke. “Whatever evidence you have better be good.”
“It doesn’t get any better,” Barnhardt said.
“That depends on what you can offer the prosecution,” Sarah told him. “It has to stand up in court.”
“I have it.”
Dunn nodded. “Then we have a deal.”
A heavy silence fell inside the car. Barnhardt looked out the window first. They were approaching the green. There were people on the street, all walking in the same direction, some chanting, others carrying political campaign signs. Most of the signs were against the present administration. Everyone carried flashlights or glow sticks or what looked to be candles. The ambulance stopped at a stoplight, and pedestrians crossed in front of them.