Free Red Cell Seven by Stephen Frey Page B

ago was this?”
    “Ten minutes.”
    Stewart Baxter pushed his way past the agents into the middle of the room. “Mr. President, you need to get back to the Oval Office immediately.”
    “Yes, of course, Stewart.”
    Troy heard more footsteps hustling toward them.
    “We don’t know if—”
    “Mr. President!” Another agent burst into the room. “Sir, we have reports of more attacks. It’s the same thing as Tysons Corner. Huge malls. Houston, Los Angeles, St. Louis. Shooters opening fire at crowds with automatic weapons. Seven attacks so far.”
    The president glanced from Baxter to Bill and then back at Baxter. “Gentlemen, we are under attack.” He motioned to Radcliff. “Get me back to the Oval Office.”
    As Radcliff wheeled the president out, Baxter pointed at Bill and Troy in turn. “Where were you pricks on this one?” He stared hard at them for a few moments, eyes flashing accusingly. “Nowhere, obviously,” he hissed as he stormed from the room. “Nowhere!”

CHAPTER 7

    A S T RAVERS raced down the railroad tracks through the darkness, bullets strafed past. He turned and darted into the dense forest lining both sides of the double main line. Going into the trees was his only chance.
    Three minutes ago he and Harry Boyd had been ambushed at the gas station. Boyd had been shot dead through the windshield by one of the men who’d attacked them back there. But Travers had escaped by hustling out the back of the van, then racing onto the tracks that lay at the bottom of a steep ravine at the edge of the gas station’s parking lot.
    Now he was running for his life.
    K AASHIF AND the driver glanced at each other when a DJ broke into the rap song playing on the vehicle’s radio to announce in a trembling voice what was unfolding across the country. Huge high-end malls were being attacked in big cities all over the nation.
    When the announcer finished, they high-fived each other—just as they pulled into the short driveway of Kaashif’s “parents’” house.
    “S TAY WITH ME ,” one of the EMTs said loudly as they rushed the young woman toward the mall entrance where the three assassins had opened fire on the crowd eleven minutes ago. “You’re gonna make it,” he said as they guided the gurney around the security guard’s dead body. “Don’t give up.”
    Jennie could barely make out the features of the man above her. Everything about him seemed out of focus, and she couldn’t feel the pain anymore. Had they given her drugs, or was her body shutting down? She couldn’t remember them giving her anything. That couldn’t be a good sign.
    “The little girl,” she whispered. “Is she all right?”
    The EMT leaned down. “What?”
    Jennie couldn’t say the words again. Her strength was gone, and her eyelids slowly slid shut.
    The EMT shook her shoulder gently as they guided the gurney through the outer doors of the mall lobby. But she was unresponsive.
    “We’ve gotta hurry,” he urged his partner as they raced her toward the ambulance, “or we’re gonna lose her.”
    “Looks like we may already have,” the other EMT responded dejectedly.
    “N O DOGS ,” Major Travers muttered thankfully as he dodged the trunks of leafless trees coming at him through the gloom. Unfortunately, most of them weren’t wide enough for a man his size to hide behind. “That’s good. A couple of Dobermans would have been a problem.”
    Travers hurdled a wide stream, clawed his way up the steep bank on the other side, and then hustled into the trees. He had time—though not much. Still, that narrow window provided an opportunity. If they’d sent dogs out on him, the odds of success would have dropped drastically. And life was all about odds.
    He stayed in top physical condition with the kind of insane workouts other men his age would have died from. But when it came to physical ability and stamina, working out was no match for youth. He knew that as well as anyone. Despite the heavy workouts, he knew