His elbows were sore from when he’d fallen back on the stairs, but he was physically fine. Tucker knew how damn lucky he was that he’d been on the stairs when the strike happened. It was a miracle he hadn’t been hit by any falling debris. The reality would sink in later, he knew. He just hoped his luck held out now.
Withdrawing his weapon, he spoke quietly. “Command center?” Dead silence. “Command?” he shouted, not able to stop himself. A sharp punch of fear for Karen slid through his veins. Calling on all his training, he shelved what-if thoughts. Without knowing the extent of the damage, he had to do his damn job and focus. He couldn’t completely shelve thoughts of Karen, though. She was right there at the forefront of his brain.
The sound of groaning down below kicked him into gear. Sirens wailed in the distance, but he ignored all distractions as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs. Karen had said there’d been a man with an RPG near Cole’s location, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more explosives down below. He had to be careful.
To his right he could see legs visible from underneath a pile of rubble. From the dress pants, a man. He’d seen loss of life on so many different scales when he’d been in war zones or during his undercover stints, which were sometimes like war zones. Men, women . . . children. Killing innocent civilians for whatever stupid cause was always so fucking pointless. Anger tightened his gut, but he moved it out of his mind and started to scale a pile of concrete. More blue sky filtered through from the huge chunk of ceiling that had been ripped away.
He had to holster his weapon as he reached the top of the eight-foot pile so he could use both hands to climb over. Once he cleared it and saw what had been the platform, his gut tightened again. Bodies were littered everywhere. Some moving, some not. He could still hear a few shouts for help but didn’t have a visual on the voices. Probably people buried under rubble. He couldn’t think about them right now. He had to find the rest of the team, stop another attack that might be coming. Damn it, he hoped Cole was okay. He’d been on the fringes just like Tucker. His only saving grace.
Carefully he climbed down the other side of the pile, his feet slipping at the bottom. He quickly righted himself and started moving around the west side of the platform, since it was the least damaged. He withdrew the cell Burkhart had given him because his comm wasn’t working. He called Cole, who answered immediately. Relief flooded him. If he’d lost Cole . . . no, he couldn’t even go there.
“Where are you?” Cole demanded.
Damn, it was good to hear his voice. “Inside the station. I was in the stairwell when it happened. I’m fine. You okay?” he asked quietly as he continued picking his way around to the other side of the platform. He’d seen three agents on this side. When he saw a man in a suit sitting against a pillar, pressing a hand to his bleeding head, he held the phone away from his mouth for a moment. “Help is on the way,” he murmured.
The guy nodded, clearly out of it. Tucker hated that he couldn’t help everyone, but he had priorities now. Finding the missing agents and Vane was critical.
“Yeah, the shooter’s dead. Burkhart’s racing toward me right now. Hold on.” A second later Burkhart came on the line.
“Who’s down there with you?”
“I haven’t spotted anyone yet. Is the command center okay?” He had to know that Karen was unharmed.
“Yes. The attack was only on the subway.”
The relief that surged through Tucker was short-lived as a sharp pop, pop, pop rent the air. Plaster and tile exploded a few feet from his head.
On instinct, he dove over a small pile of jagged bricks, his jacket snagging on something sharp as he landed on another pile of debris. He dropped the cell phone as he withdrew his weapon.
“Victor.” Someone snapped out his call sign as if from a distance.
Without moving from his position, he belly-crawled the few feet to where the phone had skidded and held it up to his ear. “I’m here.”
“What’s going on?” Burkhart demanded.
“Someone shot at me. I don’t have a visual on the shooter yet.”
“The agents guarding Vane haven’t checked in and they’re not answering their cells. Operate under the assumption that it’s Vane. I’m heading back to the command center now to see if we can track him. Keep this line open.”
“I will. Putting it in my coat pocket now. Going to try for a visual.”
“Affirmative.”
Tucker slipped his phone into his pocket and crawled down a few more feet, using the rubble as cover. Easing out from position, weapon drawn, he quickly swept the area.
There were fallen bodies and destruction everywhere, but no Vane. If he was Vane and he’d had an opportunity to grab a weapon, he’d go for the escape. It would make sense in this kind of chaos.
Instead of doing a full sweep and searching the rest of the place, Tucker went with his gut and backtracked the way he’d come. Once he reached the top of the first pile he’d climbed, he kept his weapon in his hand. Adrenaline pumping, he peered over the top.
Clear.
Moving faster this time, he scrambled down the other side. As his feet hit the bottom, he could hear Burkhart’s voice.
With his free hand, he fished the phone out. “Yeah?”
“Got a ping on one of Vane’s trackers. It’s flickering in and out. He’s moving, though. On foot, given his speed. Once you exit, move south. We’ll guide you.”
“On it.” As he cleared the top of the stairs and out onto street level, he felt his heart jump into his throat. Karen was racing down the sidewalk toward him. Her eyes widened, as if she was startled to see him ascending the subway entrance. Sirens wailed louder now, so he holstered his weapon, not needing to draw attention to himself. The cops and EMTs would be here in less than thirty seconds if he had to guess.
“What are you doing?” he demanded as she reached him, pulling her back down into the first few steps of the stairwell.
“I had to know you were okay.” Her eyes were wide as she scanned him, looking for injuries.
“Grab him before he gets in a vehicle,” Burkhart ordered.
“I’ve got to grab Vane,” Tucker said to her, moving back to the sidewalk.
She fell in step with him and he could tell by the set of her jaw she planned to go with him. He couldn’t waste any time convincing her to go back to the van. “Karen’s with me.”
Burkhart cursed, but continued giving orders. “We can’t get anyone else on the comm and Cole’s too far away. You’re the closest agent I have in the field now.”
“Understood.” There was no way Tucker was going to lose Vane, no way this bastard was escaping. Part of Tucker wanted to tell Karen to head back to the command center, to try to convince her she’d be safer there, but for all he knew there were more armed men with RPGs at the Metro stop. He’d rather she be with him where he could protect her personally.
Burkhart ordered him to turn left at the next street. Three cop cars whizzed past, sirens blaring. As they waited for an ambulance to fly by, Burkhart cursed. “He’s moving faster now. Too fast to be on foot.”
“I’m giving you to Karen.” Tucker handed the phone to her as they started running across the street. “I’m stealing a car and I need you to direct me with his instructions,” he said to her as they reached the other side. He couldn’t break into a vehicle and hold his phone at the same time.
She snagged the cell phone without missing a beat, her strides steady as she moved at a fast clip. As she talked to Burkhart, he motioned to an older-model minivan parked along a curb. There wasn’t anyone on the street now, not with everything happening blocks over. It would be complete chaos there.
He made quick work of the lock, then hot-wired the van. All in less than sixty seconds. Karen held the phone away from her ear as he pulled away from the curb.