Page 89 of Every Last One

“I will.” Sandra ended the call and ran to her workstation. “I’m trying Sparling’s cell phone,” she told everyone.

Brice got into position and so did the others.

“What do you want? I’m not in any mood to talk,” Sparling answered.

“You’ve been through a lot in the last eight months. I’m sorry for the loss of your wife.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You didn’t even know her,” he spat out.

“No, but I know what it’s like to lose someone.” As she said this, she instinctively pinched the St. Michael pendant hanging from a chain around her neck. “You lose your mind for a minute or two, maybe more. But that’s no reason to hurt other people, Tom.Innocentpeople who have done nothing to you.”

“You don’t know anything!”

“You think that Founders Hospital killed your wife.”

“They did.”

“The doctors might have failed her, but the little girl in that room, she hasn’t hurt you. Her name is Phoebe. She’s four years old and scheduled for a heart transplant tonight.” Sandra could only hope that humanity and empathy still lived within the man.

“The hospital will be to blame for whatever happens.” His voice trembled.

“Haven’t you heard, though, Tom? This is over. Mindy worked out a deal.”

“Good for her. Maybe I don’t want to surrender.”

His words were ominous, but his tone disheartening, belonging to a broken man with nothing to live for. “It sounds like you don’t know what the future holds from here, but it’s up to you.”

“I’ll tell you when it’s over.”

Either Maria or Gail screamed in the background, and the line went dead.

“That’s it. We’re moving in. Money or no money.” Kreiger lunged for the door.

Sandra ran after him, pulled back on his arm. “As we discussed before. Just skip the fourth floor for now. Let me work on him.”

“What you need to work on is getting your hands on that cash because ERT’s going in with or without you. It’s up to you to decide if you’re working with them or against them.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The question was out before Sandra got a leash on her anger.

“You’re about talking. Fine. But at some point, when that’s not working, more persuasive measures are needed.”

“So after all this time you’re going to sanction ERT going in there and risking lives?” Her heart was slamming against her ribcage.

“No one said anything about risking lives. We will proceed as discussed. You, should you decide to, will go in with ERT. You will be accompanied by two officers up to the eighth floor through the stairwell, where you’ll be prepared to hand over the money to Mindy Ashmore.”

“As long as ERT stays out of Ashmore’s sightline. We can’t risk scaring her.”

“Fine, but they’ll be hanging right outside the door, ready to move in if the need arises. That is my offer, take it or leave it. You preach about risking people’s lives. Well, Special Agent Vos, I’m not risking yours. Capiche?”

Anger was boiling in her veins, and her cheeks were on fire. She pushed past him. “I’ll get the money and let you know when I’m ready.” She flung the vehicle door open and stepped into the evening air.

She heard Kreiger come out behind her, but he carried on to the ERT tactical sergeant while she rounded the corner of the command vehicle and pulled out her phone to call Elwood Rowe.

She caught the remaining time on her phone. Thirty minutes.

When Elwood answered, she laid out the details in record time and finished with, “So I need two hundred and fifty K, in cash, delivered ASAP.”