Hennigan was already trying to determine what happened when the second suicide bomber exploded. The first two had been near the stage. She glanced at the stage, the ZERO security team handling the situation. Mr. J. motioned for one of the guards to pick up Ethan, who wasn’t getting up. Mr. J. walked over to the other security guard, who wasn’t moving. He crouched down next to the body, and his hands trembled slightly as he reached out to check for the body for a pulse. There was a fraction of silence, a brief pause filled with anticipation and hope. Even from her distant vantage point, Hennigan could see the dreadful realization ripple across Mr. J.’s face. His scream, raw and guttural, echoed through the chaos.
She wanted to take charge of the stage but knew her talents were needed elsewhere.
“Ms. Wilson?” she yelled through the chaos. A group of women were jostling to get past her. She finally pushed one out of the way. The massive throngs of people trying to flee but not knowing where to go was dizzying. “What can you tell me?” Dr. Hennigan momentarily spun for a second in a circle as she tried to orient herself.
“I’m tracking security cameras as we speak. It looks like both people were wearing the same brand of jacket and a ZERO concert T-shirt.”
“Can you see if they entered with anyone else?” The words weren’t even out of her mouth when gunshots started piercing the night. She dropped to the ground. “Gunfire. Denzili?” she said.
“On it, boss. Looks like three shooters are making their way from the back of the park, heading northwest toward the stage. They appear to be carrying assault rifles and are shooting indiscriminately.”
“Take ‘em down,” Hennigan barked. “Ms. Wilson?”
“Two more people with similar outfits are still navigating their way through the crowd.”
“Phillipa!”
A violent percussion tore through the night, throwing her to the ground as a splintering sound erupted nearby. Hennigan lay in the dirt, dazed. There was distant screaming of her name over and over again. She pulled herself up to her knees and shook her head. A wall of people moved in her direction. The first woman to make it near her didn’t see her on the ground and almost stepped on her. Phillipa lashed out with her leg and connected with the woman’s knee. She couldn’t hear the cracking sound but she felt the bone give way. Phillipa dragged herself to a standing position and slowly pushed herself away from the mob. Anytime someone got too close, she would shove them into someone else. People quickly started frantically streaming around her. When this swarm passed, she glanced back at the ground. Fifty yards away the lifeless body of the woman she had kicked lay, crumpled on the ground, having been trampled by the horde.
I’m sorry. “Ms. Wilson, report?”
“Thank God!”
“There was a third explosion,”
“I gathered as much,” she said dryly.
“I’m looking for the fourth one.”
“The shooters?”
“Denzili took down two, and Richardson took down the third.”
“Where the hell are the Capitol Police?”
“They’re overwhelmed with the fleeing crowd. They weren’t prepared. There she is, at two o’clock.”
Hennigan turned and found a woman wearing a yellow jacket standing in a daze.
“Richardson, Denzili?”
“We have a visual, boss,” Denzili confirmed.
“Approach with caution,” Hennigan warned. “I’m going to distract her.” She then withdrew her gun and fired twice into the air.
The woman spun in her direction.
“I didn’t know,” the woman screamed. “We were told these were like those smoke bombs, like the ones they have at gender reveal parties.”
“Put the trigger down,” Hennigan instructed. “We can help you.”
“You don’t understand. No one can help me. I don’t have control.” The woman looked frantic. “We were told we’d be safe if we followed her instructions.”
“What’s your name?”
“Martha Thompson. My husband, and my children…” The woman fell to her knees and started crying.”
“Martha Thompson, her husband Jake and teenage boys James and William were reported carjacked two hours ago on the DC side of Baltimore,” Ms. Wilson said.
