Read Online Spy Thriller: The Fourteenth Protocol: A Story of Espionage and Counter-terrorism (The Special Agent Jana Baker Book Series 1) by Nathan Goodman - Free Book Online
Authors: Nathan Goodman
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I’ve never seen anything like this. Our heartfelt sorrow is extended to each and every family member of the thirty-one lost souls.” The doctor’s voice shook as he cleared his throat. “Of the thirty-one people that were injured in the blast, seventeen were brought here, eleven of them children. Four were pronounced dead upon arrival.” The doctor spoke mechanically now, devoid of emotion. “One was admitted in critical condition. His condition was later upgraded to stable. Approximately two-and-one-half hours later, his condition deteriorated, and he went into cardiac arrest. We were unable to resuscitate him.” There was silence; the doctor was struggling to maintain his composure. “Our triage staff responded swiftly to all injuries. The rest of the injuries were non-life threatening. The remaining eleven victims were treated for minor lacerations and contusions. All were later released.” The silence began again, this one protracted. Through the radio, sounds of snapping camera lenses were audible. The doctor mustered enough courage to continue. “Then, beginning at approximately 1:15 p.m., emergency calls began pouring into the 911 service and into our hospital. Our service was once again flooded with patients. As they arrived by ambulance, all eleven of the originally discharged patients were declared dead upon arrival. At this time, the cause of death is unknown. We’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report, but in my estimation, there must have been some kind of toxin involved in that explosion.”
Reporters all spoke at once, clamoring to ask a question, but then Agent Bolz interrupted. “Let me assure you that all available resources are being employed by the FBI, other federal agencies, and with cooperation from the Tucson Sheriff’s Department. Forensic evidence is being gathered as we speak. We’ll let you know more as we find out.” He quickly left.
The radio newscast switched from the news conference in Phoenix, back to the WBS anchors in Atlanta. “Well, that’s what we know from the scene in Arizona. To recap, of the thirty-one known dead, seventeen were rushed to the Tucson Medical Center. Of those, eleven were treated and released, but later died of unknown causes. There was possibly a toxin of some type used in the explosive device. We’ll stay on top of this story and bring you the news as it happens. For now, in for Mike Slayden, I’m John Carden, reporting live. You’re listening to Newstalk 780, WBS.”
13
After eating what turned out to be a quiet lunch, Cade headed back out Fado’s heavy oak doors and onto the street. He felt more at ease now that he’d had a break. The cobalt blue sky was bright and clear as he walked down the hill towards the office. Behind him, a man also exited Fado, crossed to the opposite side of the street and walked in the same direction as Cade. A slight gust of wind flapped his un-tucked shirt tails. The man put his right hand to his ear. “Secure channel,” he said softly.
“Channel secure,” came a crisp reply into his earpiece.
“Subject en route.”
“Roger, subject en route. Distance?”
“Distance, three hundred meters.” The blowing breeze caused a slight rustling sound across the mic. “Be in view in zero-two minutes.”
“Roger that, zero-two minutes.”
Cade waited a moment for a MARTA bus to clear and then crossed Peachtree Road towards his office. Behind him shone the black mirrored glass of the sprawling Atlanta Financial Center building. In a vacant office on the sixth floor, a tripod-mounted camera with a high-powered lens recorded with intent.
Once inside the building, Cade rode up to the sixteenth floor and sat down in his cube. Whitmore stood up and walked around. If he ever wanted to talk to Cade, Whitmore walked all the way around the cube; standing up to talk over the cube wall was pointless, as his height created only a view of the top of Cade’s head that
Reporters all spoke at once, clamoring to ask a question, but then Agent Bolz interrupted. “Let me assure you that all available resources are being employed by the FBI, other federal agencies, and with cooperation from the Tucson Sheriff’s Department. Forensic evidence is being gathered as we speak. We’ll let you know more as we find out.” He quickly left.
The radio newscast switched from the news conference in Phoenix, back to the WBS anchors in Atlanta. “Well, that’s what we know from the scene in Arizona. To recap, of the thirty-one known dead, seventeen were rushed to the Tucson Medical Center. Of those, eleven were treated and released, but later died of unknown causes. There was possibly a toxin of some type used in the explosive device. We’ll stay on top of this story and bring you the news as it happens. For now, in for Mike Slayden, I’m John Carden, reporting live. You’re listening to Newstalk 780, WBS.”
13
After eating what turned out to be a quiet lunch, Cade headed back out Fado’s heavy oak doors and onto the street. He felt more at ease now that he’d had a break. The cobalt blue sky was bright and clear as he walked down the hill towards the office. Behind him, a man also exited Fado, crossed to the opposite side of the street and walked in the same direction as Cade. A slight gust of wind flapped his un-tucked shirt tails. The man put his right hand to his ear. “Secure channel,” he said softly.
“Channel secure,” came a crisp reply into his earpiece.
“Subject en route.”
“Roger, subject en route. Distance?”
“Distance, three hundred meters.” The blowing breeze caused a slight rustling sound across the mic. “Be in view in zero-two minutes.”
“Roger that, zero-two minutes.”
Cade waited a moment for a MARTA bus to clear and then crossed Peachtree Road towards his office. Behind him shone the black mirrored glass of the sprawling Atlanta Financial Center building. In a vacant office on the sixth floor, a tripod-mounted camera with a high-powered lens recorded with intent.
Once inside the building, Cade rode up to the sixteenth floor and sat down in his cube. Whitmore stood up and walked around. If he ever wanted to talk to Cade, Whitmore walked all the way around the cube; standing up to talk over the cube wall was pointless, as his height created only a view of the top of Cade’s head that
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