Restoration
Chapter 28
Jessica's never been claustrophobic. At her size, she's even comfortable in a coach airplane seat, but the ducting of the ventilation system looks tight. That she was justified in taking Harper's place is a comfort, but a small one. As she unscrews the vent that allows her entrance to the system, she wishes John were there. He could do it in less than half the time, probably with his eyes closed, but he's where he should be. And she's where she belongs — in the thick of things with nothing to concentrate on but her job.
The close quarters make it easier to work her way up to the floor above, but it will be harder to maneuver once she gets there. The tear gas canisters and respirator she has to bring with her aren't making it any easier. She'll also have to manage the tiny tool to knock out the screws from the wrong side of the vent, hopefully without any of the invaders catching on. They could shoot at her, problematical through a metal grate, or worse, they could shoot hostages. She can't let that happen.
"Boot, the way your eyes are stuck on that building, are you even blinking?" Nyla asks. "Russo and SWAT aren't going to engage until everyone except those asses from The Freedom Brigade and the people they're holding are out of the building. Part of our job is to see that they stay out of harm's way once they're clear. You'll have enough to do without worrying about Russo."
"I'm not that worried about Jessica. She can take care of herself."
Harper shakes her head in disgust. "Don't lie to your T.O., Nolan. It's a good way to get yourself killed. Of course, you're worried about her. Everyone worries about their exes, whether they deserve it or not. I worried about Donovan even when he was shafting me in court. And you and Grace were still carrying torches for each other after 20 years. That was obvious the first time I saw you together. Once an attachment gets in your brain, it's hard to let it go. So admit it and deal with it."
A smile tugs at one corner of John's mouth. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be good with people."
"You are, Boot. I'm just an expert on the lies we tell each other and ourselves. For a long time, I used them to my advantage. But they also totally screwed up my life."
"Lesson noted," John acknowledges. "Whoa, here we go. There are a bunch of people coming out. Time to get to work."
"You know it. Nolan."
As usual, Captain Digger Johnson's men are squared away and ready to go. Strategically situated on the roof, they'll be able to swing down and crash through the windows Grey's officer correctly identified as unreinforced. All Digger needs is the signal from Agent Russo that she's ready to release the tear gas. He wishes one of his own people could handle her end of the operation, but the physical dimensions are a limiting factor. Her move will need to be nearly simultaneous with his team's breach. Once the building is cleared, the assholes in The Freedom Brigade will be trying to face enemies on two fronts, blinded. Or at least that's the plan. Russo has to be able to pull off her part.
Grey is in Jessica's ear, letting her know that except for the hostages, the civilians are out of the building. A hostage negotiator will be making a call to the phone nearest the brigade before a breach is greenlighted. Jessica's been there enough times to doubt that the leader of the group will accept the call. He's a true believer. That short circuits his reasoning and makes him even more deadly. Jess will need the gas and her gun, sooner rather than later. She hears a landline ringing until the sound of metal and plastic smashing vibrates through the grate. There will be no negotiations. She secures her gas mask as Digger announces, "Ready to go at greenlight." Jess taps on her com to confirm that she's in place, and the "go" signal pours through all the coms.
Jessica pushes the vent she's already loosened, out of the way to toss her tear gas canisters. Coughing fills the room from both invaders and the hostages. Nothing Jessica can do will help the innocents with that, except proceeding with the plan. Glass crashes inward as SWAT comes through the windows. The half-blinded hostage-takers begin shooting at random, the signal for Jessica and the SWAT team to return fire.
The deadly exchange doesn't last long, but it's long enough. Members of the freedom Brigade lie wounded on the floor. Two hostages moan in pain, and Jessica struggles to breathe. A round hit her Kevlar and hurts like hell. She prays she won't have to try to get through the ductwork again.
Even at a distance, John can hear the weapons fire, too many rounds to count. He watches, frozen in place as SWAT members begin to exit the building, and paramedics rush to tend to the fallen. Where's Jess? Where the hell is Jess?
She stumbles out, on the arm of a member of the strike force who hands her off to an emergency worker. John doesn't see any blood, but at this distance, he might not. He knows the paramedics. He works with them on a too regular basis. They'll take care of Jess and anyone who was hurt and do a good job. A siren screams as the first ambulance takes off for the hospital. Later John can check with Grace about Jessica and all the others who'll be delivered into her care. But now he has work to do, a lot of it. There's one hell of a mess to clean up.
John has been waiting an hour for Grace to return his call. That's not surprising. He would have been shocked if she'd picked up right away. And he had texted that he's OK. One thing he's learned from Grey is that's what family, friends, and loved ones always want to know. The rest can wait. He isn't sure what category Grace fits in. She's not family; that's Henry. He made a deal with his son to text a thumbs-up if he could, before anything he might be involved with could hit the news. He does his damnedest to keep that promise. He's received a couple of tongue-lashings from Abigail when he didn't.
Is Grace a friend? Sure. Sort of. A loved one? They've never talked about love concerning each other, not for 20 years, anyway. There's need, but that's hardly the same thing. Both John and Grace have been through so many changes that isolating one feeling is hard, maybe impossible. Right now, John can let that confusion go. He might even want to. He and Grace care about each other. For the moment, that's enough.
A smile jumps to John's lips at the chime he uses as Grace's ring tone. He can sense her hurry as she takes no time for a hello. "Jessica Russo will be fine, John. So will the injured SWAT members. Two of the hostages had surgery and are in fair condition. Two of the Freedom Brigade members didn't make it. The others are in critical condition but have a reasonable chance of recovery.
"And how are you, Grace?" John asks as he hears her gulping air.
"Tired, but the day could have been a lot worse. Your hostage crisis involved the largest number of injuries."
"Yeah," John replies ruefully, "Harper says I have a talent for finding trouble. When are you off tonight?"
"I'm pulling a double shift, but I should have a break sometime around nine."
"Then how about if I bring you dinner? Dragon Moon? Shrimp with lobster sauce?"
"John, that sounds perfect. And I need a laugh. We probably both do, so don't forget the fortune cookies."
John smiles at her admonition. "I wouldn't dream of it."