Deliver Us from Evil by Robin Caroll Page B

“Yours as well.”
    â€œNothing but a graze. I’m fine.” His gaze shot toward the sky. “We’d better get some rest while we can. Dawn will be here before too much longer, and then we’re visible targets.”

NINE
    Saturday, 3:00 a.m.
    Parkwest Medical Center
    Knoxville, Tennessee
    WARREN LOITERED OUTSIDE the hospital’s main entrance, hovering over the ashtray as he puffed away at his cigarette. The stinging wind bit against his exposed neck and face, but he refused to acknowledge his discomfort. He needed the nicotine fix more than he needed warmth.
    â€œCongressman McGovern.”
    He turned toward the doors, squinting in the bright overhead lights as he tried to discern the voice calling out to him.
    â€œCongressman McGovern.” Kevin marched with prissy strides toward him.
    After crushing out his cigarette, Warren straightened and strode to meet the effeminate man now rushing to greet him. Couldn’t a man get a little privacy around here? “Yes?”
    â€œDr. Rhoads has called a meeting with the marshals. We thought you’d want to be included.”
    As if anyone would consider excluding him? He’d been kept out of the loop quite enough, thank you very much. He squared his shoulders and moved to the doors, losing his footing only once on the sheet of ice on the sidewalk. “Has something happened?”
    â€œI don’t know, sir. They’re meeting in the waiting room up on the ICU floor.”
    Warren sighed as he strode into the elevator and jabbed the button. He’d have to endure the fingers of death tickling his spine again. Shaking off the shudder, he gritted his teeth. Ever since his mother had died in a hospital when she’d been admitted for a minor treatment, he’d known hospitals weren’t a place of healing. They were halls of loss. Human error and a lawsuit later, he still swallowed the bitterness when he thought of the sloppy doctor who had murdered his beloved mother. Leaving him on the brink of manhood to be raised by his father with strict rules and a militant lifestyle. His father married his Asian mistress not even a week after burying Warren’s mother. Unfair. But Warren had made a name for himself—had gotten into the political game to help people, which helped his own career. But that was beside the point.
    The elevator dinged as the doors slid open at an excruciatingly slow pace. Warren’s heartbeat sped in contrast, like the hare waiting for the tortoise to catch up in the race.
    He moved into the corridor, then spun on his heel, and stalked down the hall to the waiting room. Maybe this meeting would mean his luck had finally changed. His career needed a kick-start.
    Dr. Rhoads leaned against the wall of the waiting room, crowded by a semicircle of US marshals. Gerald Demott, chief of the marshals, stood front and center. This was serious business.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” His voice boomed in the otherwise silent room.
    Looking up, Dr. Rhoads nodded. “Now that we’re all here, let me fill you in on the patient’s condition.” He ran a hand over the errant hair brushing the tops of his ears. “Mr. Wilks has taken a turn for the worse. His blood pressure is dropping.” He held up a finger to hush the spattering of gasps and beginning of questions. “He is currently in stable condition, but that’s not expected to hold out much longer. If it takes much longer for the heart to get here, he may not survive the surgery.”
    â€œWhere’s the heart, Gerald?” Warren glared at the chief, as if the delay were his personal fault.
    Demott cleared his throat. “Our last report is that the heart survived the crash in the Great Smoky Mountains. We know our marshal got it out safely, and a National Park Service helicopter landed.” He hauled in a deep breath. “Unfortunately, we received a report of an unknown assailant firing upon the rescue team and