Dakota grabbed the umbrella, headed for the door, and began hammering it with her fist. “Hey, we got a medical emergency in here, open up.” She turned to Holly. “Soon as he opens that door, I’m gonna jam the pointy end in his face.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
Dakota was in the middle of pounding again when she heard the door handle rattle and a latch on the other side click. The door swung open just as she lunged forward.
The target of her attack let out a shrill scream and fell backwards, covering his face. Holly stood, stunned. “Johnny? What the hell are you doing here?”
Behind him, the station was a cacophony of cries and gunshots. “I saw them bring you in here and waited for the right time to break you out.” He locked eyes with Holly. “I figured I owed you one after you saved me from the riot at Chicago O’Hare. I got this off a dead guy,” he added, holding up a pistol.
Dakota traded him for the umbrella.
“The hell am I gonna do with this?” he asked.
“Stay in here and help Amy,” Dakota said.
A look of utter horror formed on Johnny’s face. “Help deliver a baby? Are you insane? I’m no doctor.”
Dakota was nearly out of the room when she skidded to a stop and spun. “Holly, you can handle a weapon, can’t you?”
Brushing away the fear rising in her throat, Holly said: “You bet I can.”
“Good, then let’s go.”
Taking a deep breath, Holly bent down and kissed Dillon’s forehead. “Mommy will be back soon,” she told him, not entirely sure how much truth her words held. And with that, she straightened and followed Dakota into battle.
Chapter 31
Nate and Colt emerged from the service corridor and onto the northbound platform only to face a barrage of bullets. Both men leapt for cover, Nate to the left behind an aluminum bench, Colt to the right behind a steel pillar. Shots ricocheted all around them, pinging off metal and cracking tiles, spraying up small clouds of dust.
Raising his head a moment, Nate could see at least two shooters were in the parked subway car. Frightened refugees attempting to flee were summarily gunned down. Soon the platform itself became slick with blood, leaving Nate to wonder if that had been part of their twisted plan. Heart hammering, Nate spoke into his walkie, laying out the situation as he saw it.
This wasn’t the typical police operation where you surrounded the suspects and then called in the negotiator. This was closer to finding Isis fighters holed up in a mud brick house and having to go in without air or artillery support.
A figure in black and white camo came charging around the corner, leveling his rifle at the center of Colt’s back. Nate took quick aim and filled him with three rounds. Down he went, only to have his weapon scooped up by a civilian huddled nearby. Emboldened, the man ran for the mezzanine staircase, scaling the steps two at a time. No sooner had he reached the top than he was shredded in a hail of gunfire.
The starkness of the situation suddenly came into sharp focus. A few guards were holed up on both subway platforms with the bulk of Sergei’s men holding the mezzanine above. But Nate could hear other shooting going on up top, which suggested some of the locals had risen up.
Colt called out to Brooks and Walker. “Status report.”
“Brooks and I are working our way along the southbound train, but these roaches keep popping out at every turn.”
“They’re shooting civvies, for God’s sake,” Brooks shouted with disgust.
“All the more reason to stop them,” Colt replied, waving Nate forward.
Catching the signal, Nate slapped in a fresh mag and jumped to his feet. Better now than never, he thought, moving quickly, dodging left and then right to stay out of their line of sight.
Colt reloaded as well, afterward dropping to one knee to engage the guards barricaded in the first train car. Shots rang out from his AR-15, drawing the shooters’ attention, but also forcing their heads down.
That meant it was Nate’s turn to leapfrog forward, just as he’d seen them do topside during the gangbanger ambush. Ducking into the first car, he slammed into the far wall behind a row of seats and waited for the first head to pop up.
Less than five seconds passed before his patience was rewarded. Eyeing the barricade through his reticule, Nate rattled off a series of shots. The top of the first guy’s head was cleaved away. His friend, seeing where the shots had come from, moved over to return fire. To the average Joe, that might have seemed like the logical play, but in reality, it was exactly what Colt had been hoping they would do. With the shooter’s attention now on Nate, Colt rose up and moved in, killing the guard with a single well-placed bullet.
From there, the two men worked their way from one train car to the next, flushing out and destroying Sergei’s men. The further along they got, the more senseless carnage they witnessed. It was as if their boss had ordered they take as many poor souls down with them as they could. The last guard on the southern platform was hunkered behind a stack of seats and suitcases. The corpses around him bore witness to additional atrocities. When a round tore through his right shoulder, he dropped his weapon and staggered out, one arm raised. Nate noticed the name patch and saw it was Dimitri, the same guard who had accosted him when he first arrived.
“I’ve had enough,” he shouted in that strange half-American, half-Russian accent. “I surrender.”
Colt slung his AR and pulled his pistol. “Get on your knees.”
Dimitri stretched his unwounded arm higher. “Didn’t you hear me? I surrender.”
“I heard you just fine. Now get on your knees.” Colt swiped his legs out from under him with a swift, powerful kick. Dimitri fell with a thud before scrambling to his knees. “Good boy. Now, what did you say when my family surrendered? When they begged for their lives?”
Dimitri didn’t answer until Colt pistol-whipped him into complying. “Please.”
“Wrong answer,” Colt said, firing point blank.
The guard fell. And though it was barbaric, Nate couldn’t help feeling the first glimmer of justice had been restored.
That feeling, however, was short-lived. Another call came over the radio.
“The good news is the southbound platform’s been cleaned of mafia grunts,” Brooks said, breathlessly. “Bad news is we got a man down over here.”
“Oh, crap. Who?” Colt asked. “Walker?”
“No, Ash. And it’s pretty bad, but we think we’ve stopped the bleeding. We got a couple civvies here looking after him while we head back toward the mezzanine.”
If Sergei and his men were still around, that was where they would find them.
“Roger that. Meet you there.”
Even though both platforms had been cleared, they could still hear a firefight raging at the mezzanine. Nate knew there wasn’t a second to lose.
Chapter 32
Dakota exited the break room, charging down the hallway toward the mezzanine. Hot on her heels was Holly, hoping to get her hands on a weapon of her own. They flung open the outer door only to see a darkened space. Frightened figures ran through a patchwork of dead and wounded, fleeing for safety. Dakota spotted something outside just to the left of the doorway and ran to grab it, returning a moment later with a rifle.
They closed the door to the mezzanine in order to figure out what to do next.
“You get this off a dead guard?”
Dakota shook her head. “No, just some regular guy. He must have picked it up and charged in at the wrong time.”
“Could you see where Sergei or any of his guards are hiding?”