Free The Minus Faction, Episode One: Breakout by Rick Wayne Page B

almost like going inside out." John figured it wasn't a good time to talk about the rush of light or the crazy things he saw during the leap.
    Amarta nodded. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She kept looking back and forth between the man in the chair and the man standing.
    "I don't suppose it's an accident you put me in the head of hospital security." The elevator doors dinged open and Regent pushed his body in. "A little revenge?"
    "That would be unprofessional of me."
    "What are you going to tell him?"
    "The lieutenant? I'll tell him the truth. The episode with Corporal Gonzales, the responsibility, was too much for him. Also, that he fainted. Both are true."
    "But not related."
    Amarta shrugged.
    "Colonel Philip might reassign him. Send him somewhere less stressful."
    "Really?" Amarta feigned innocence. She watched the numbers on the elevator display go down. "I hadn't thought about that."
    John smirked. He liked the doc. She didn't fuck around. And she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty to make things better for her people.
    "Besides, we're just borrowing him, right? It's not like the hospital is going to be assaulted , or whatever he's here for."
    The elevator doors opened. Nine men in black body armor were spread around the ground floor with semi-automatic rifles raised. They kept the nurses and janitorial staff and visitors and volunteers sitting on the carpet or standing along the far wall. A row of white SUVs sat in the drive ready to haul everyone away.
    Ayn was in front. She walked right toward the captain's body unconscious in his chair.
    The lieutenant pushed the chair forward to meet her. A few clouds had moved in, but it was still bright.
    Ayn held up papers. "This man is wanted on a matter of national security."
    John smiled at the doc, who stood speechless. Then he looked at his adversary.
    Game over.

T Minus: 050 Days 12 Hours 46 Minutes 19 Seconds
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Dr. Zabora stepped in front of Ayn. "Is Colonel Philip aware of this?"
    "With all due respect to the colonel, this is above his pay--"
    "Oh please!"
    "It's all right, Doc." The lieutenant put a hand on her shoulder.
    "Thank you, Lieut--" Ayn looked at the young officer, then the unconscious captain, then back to the lieutenant. Her lips parted. She looked him in the eyes. She whispered, "It's you, isn't it?"
    Two MPs in green fatigues appeared around a corner and reached for their sidearms.
    "No!" The lieutenant called. "It's okay. Stand down. Have everyone stay back." No one was going to get hurt because of him.
    Ayn stared speechless.
    John studied the invaders. They had snub semi-automatic rifles, pistols, bullet-proof vests, and flash grenades. Two even had shotguns. "You sure brought a lot of firepower for a paraplegic in a wheelchair."
    Ayn did her best to hide her amazement that Regent was speaking with the lieutenant's voice. "You have quite the service record. I wasn't going to take any chances."
    "Ma'am," one of the armed agents urged.
    Ayn gathered herself. They were on a time limit—seven minutes to get in and out. She moved around the wheelchair and pushed it past the lieutenant. "You can't hide in there forever, you know," she whispered.
    "Who says?"
    Ayn turned. "Your conscience." She was serious. She pushed the captain's slumped body across the lobby.
    Another elevator opened.
    "What the hell?" Ethan stood in front of a small group of patients. He rushed out and stopped in front of the wheelchair. "What are you doing? Where are you taking him?"
    One of the armored agents moved forward and hit the nurse in the back with the butt of his short rifle. Ethan yelled and went down. Weapons were cocked. Everyone froze.
    Except for the soldiers in the elevator, the ones Ethan had brought to say goodbye to their friend. Five wounded veterans walked forward to stand in front of the captain. They were joined by two sitting in the waiting area. The patient platoon formed a line between the hospital information desk and