Judgment at Alcatraz by Dave Edlund (carter reed .txt) 📕

was over. If any of the radicals remained, someone would want to touch base, circle up and regroup.

Nothing but static. Although she was listening intently, her gaze still swept her surroundings, ever wary of new threats.

A door behind her opened onto the arcade. She spun around, the MP5 moving as one with her body, ready to take down the assailant.

As she applied pressure on the trigger, she was greeted with the image of Sue Kincaid.

Danya relaxed and lowered her gun. “Do you have any idea how close you came to being shot?”

Sue’s eyes bulged, and her mouth gaped. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.” Then Danya was running toward the three injured children who were still in the courtyard.

The Boy Scout had done an admirable job trying to stop the arterial bleeding from the leg wound. But pressure alone wasn’t sufficient—a tourniquet was needed. She told the skinny boy to run back to the gift shop and return with a pen or something they could use to make a tourniquet.

He dashed off, and Danya examined the two wounded girls. A bullet had passed through the ear of one of the girls—painful, but not life threatening—and the other had suffered a nasty bullet wound to her forearm. It looked like either the ulna or radius had been shattered. White bone fragments were embedded within the mangled flesh. The girl was also suffering shock, as was the boy with the leg wound.

The Boy Scout returned with Sue right behind him. Without any words being spoken, Danya inserted an ink pen through the neckerchief and turned it to twist the scarf tight and close off blood flow to the leg. Fortunately, the young boy was already unconscious and he didn’t have to bear the pain.

Next, she turned her attention to the arm wound. The immediate concern was blood loss. She removed a bandana from a pocket and pressed it against the wound, causing the girl to scream in pain. Then she, too, passed out. Danya secured the makeshift dressing with the web belt the Boy Scout had been wearing.

Sue took in the carnage—the three injured children and the dead grandmother—and felt sick. Abruptly, she turned, took two steps, and emptied her stomach. After retching for a half-minute, she wiped her mouth and faced Danya.

“Is it safe? We heard gunfire, and then it stopped.” She glanced down to the children. “Are they all gone? The terrorists, I mean?”

Danya rubbed her hands over her face. They felt moist. She exhaled and raised her gaze to meet Sue’s.

“In a manner of speaking, they’re dead.”

“All of them?”

“A couple escaped in a helicopter. They have one of my friends as a hostage, and an FBI agent. Since you’re standing here, I assume there aren’t any more guards inside?”

Sue shook her head.

“What about the cell house?” Danya said.

“What?”

“The prison, up on top of the hill. I heard them talking on the radio, and they have hostages up there. I think they called down the guards, but I’m not certain.”

“I don’t know.”

Motion caught Sue’s attention. A few people were creeping through the sally port.

She pointed. “There—more of the hostages.”

Danya turned. “I guess that answers my question.”

“What do we do now?” Sue said.

“Help me cover the injured children. They’re in shock, and we have to help them stay warm. And we need to cover these bodies. No one should have to see them.”

She led Sue into the gift shop, and together they stripped armloads of sweatshirts from the racks and shelves. After making the children as comfortable as possible, they covered Margaret’s body, and then the dead assailants littering the courtyard.

When the task was done, Sue’s face was streaked with tears.

“How could anyone do that?” She wiped her cheeks. “They were only children,” she whispered.

Danya placed a hand on the teacher’s shoulder.

“There is no answer. I’m sorry. But I need you to be strong—for the children.”

Sue sniffled and nodded. “Okay. Okay.” She dabbed a finger to the corner of an eye. “Now what? Are the police coming?”

“Soon. Are your students inside?”

Sue nodded. “They’re with another group of kids. I told them to stay together while I checked outside.”

“Good thinking. Now I need you to take charge of these people. They’re frightened. They need leadership, someone to assure them help is on the way, and that they are safe until it arrives.”

“I can’t do that. I’m just a teacher.”

“Yes, you can do it. You teach elementary school, right? Pretend all these people are students at your school, and you’re trying to get everyone to settle down before an assembly.”

“But—”

Danya raised a hand. “Believe me—getting adults to follow you is a lot easier than getting a bunch of rambunctious boys and girls to listen.”

The restroom door opened, and a young boy meekly stuck his head out.

Seeing Danya and Sue, he said, “Is it okay to come out now?”

Sue stood with her arms outstretched, and the boy ran to her, followed by four other youths. The stream of people coming through the sally port was also growing, and they were all approaching Danya and Sue.

“Look,” Danya said. “Organize several search parties to find the backpacks, cell phones, and wallets that were confiscated. They have to be around here somewhere. Maybe inside the barracks or cell house, in an office or closet. That will keep people busy.”

“What are you going to do?” Sue said.

“I’m going to make sure help is on the way. Then I have a friend to rescue.”

Chapter 24

During the grisly chore of covering the bodies, an idea came to Danya. There were only two ways off the island, and flying was not an option. That left only one possibility—watercraft. She’d noticed the Jet Capsule bobbing alongside the floating dock. With luck, the ignition key would still be in place. And assuming it had a radio, she could call for help. Eventually, some of the tourists would recover their phones, confiscated when the terrorists seized the island. But that would take time.

She dashed across the courtyard, still carrying the submachine gun she’d taken. The floating