Ian arrived outside the women's restroom to see the group of agents pacing. Greg Wilds stopped him. "Chase, we have this under control. Go back to your table." Two maintenance men were working hard to remove the steel-cored inner door from its frame.
Blood was leaching from beneath into the carpet. Ian's face was a calm mask. "Is it Cassie?" Wilds did not answer. "IS IT Cassie?" Ian's voice grew louder.
"We think so, but we can't get through the door. It's jammed. Her com is down. There's no response from inside. She may not even be in there."
"Greg, what was her last position?"
"Here. An ambulance is on the way."
Sebastian's body lay sprawled across the threshold when the door came free. The body of a dark-haired woman in a hotel uniform was crumpled in the corner. Ian's nostrils were assailed by the smell of blood, gunpowder, and floral room deodorizer. Carnage cloaked the room; the walls and mirrors were speckled red. Cassie slumped against the far wall, shaking hard. Her dress was shredded, and blood was bubbling between her lips and pooling under her left leg.
"Cassie! Hang on." Preston Galloway sprinted to kneel beside her. He placed her bloody gun in the back of his waistband.
"Cass, the ambulance is coming." Brice settled on the same side as Preston and pressed his bare hands against Cassie's thigh. Blood ran between his fingers.
Ian moved to her other side. Tearing the tie from around his neck, he tied a tourniquet. "Hey, sweetheart, it's going to hurt a bit." Cassie whimpered when he knotted the tie tightly around her hemorrhaging thigh. He clutched his handkerchief and patted it against her bloody lips. Brice wrenched his jacket off to press the balled-up garment against her chest.
Her eyes blinked like a porcelain doll. "I…an, I'm …sor…ry. I want…ed…my… chance."
"Don't try to talk. Just keep looking at me, sweetheart." Ian lifted her chin to try to ease her labored gasps as ice-cold sweat dripped down his back. Cassie's shaking grew more violent. He wrapped his jacket around her and pulled her against his body. Brice continued trying to staunch the bleeding from her chest.
Preston yelled, "Where the hell is the ambulance?"
Cassie groped for Ian's hand. “Cass...i...o...pe...i...a…is…dead.” Her clouded green eyes rolled back into her head.
Chapter Eleven
The paramedics pulled her away from Ian's arms to start treatment. "Cassie, hang on." Brice positioned himself next to her before the medics placed her on the stretcher.
Ian stared down her fellow agents. "I'm riding with her."
Wilds gave a curt nod. "Walton, go with her too."
Colby stood at Monique's side. She gave Ian a knowing sign when they reached the front of the hotel and raised her cell phone. "I'll call Kieran."
Ian sat on the bench beside her and sent a silent prayer up to heaven.My sweet Cassie."You're not alone. I'm here, sweetheart. Keep fighting." The night played back like a horror movie: how soft and sweet she felt against his body as they danced, how something was off with Ames, how she maintained her composure with the Whitmans, the look of death in her eyes.
Ian retrieved his phone from his bloodstained pocket. "Luke, it's Ian Chase." Sirens blared in the background.
Luke yawned, "Ian, is something wrong?"
Yeah, something is wrong. It's my fault Cassie is almost dead.Ian's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "Luke, I'm on my way to University Hospital with Cassie. She's been hurt."
Luke's voice rose. "How bad? What happened?" Before Ian could answer, another call beeped through. "Ian, I'll call you back. It's Greg Wilds."
Ian held Cassie's ice-cold right hand.
* * *
Afierce battle of Call of Duty was playing out in the background on Brett Collins' computer screen when Ian connected with him, "Yeah, boss." Brett reached for the controller to end the game.
"There's been a stabbing at the Four Seasons. Pull all the tape you can find, especially the FBI communication tapes. Also, get a background check started on Senator Bynum's aide, Sebastian Ames, approximately age thirty. Wake up Smooth and Bear and send them, prepared to blend in, at University."
Before Brett could ask anything, Ian disconnected the call. He dialed another number that went to voicemail. Annoyed, he typed a short text.
* * *
"Sorry, I was…uh… occupied. What's up, man?" Dr. Hunter Montgomery asked.
