A few screeches and a "Holy shit!" greeted him from people seated just
beyond the door, but he ignored them as he re-closed the door and kicked the
door stops down. Picking up his Glock, he checked Nassir for signs of life.
There were none.
Both rounds from the Glock had entered below Nassir's sternum only a few
inches apart. Only one had exited his back; the other must have hit enough bone
to stop it.
"Cade here," he said into his lapel mike. "Nassir's dead."
"Copy that," said Carter, stepping out of a maintenance room behind the
escalators. "All clear. Help is on the way."
With their sirens and lights off, two ambulances pulled up outside the lower
lobby street doors. Two pairs of medics rushed into the lobby and were directed
by Carter.
An injection quieted Hassan almost instantly as two of the medics checked
out Bartow. Cade got out of Carter's way as she marched toward him with a
camera.
She took a rapid-fire series of pictures of Nassir, zooming in on the
MAC-11, his wrist, his face, and then circling his body once before she slung
the camera on her shoulder.
Turning to the medics, she said, "Okay, he's all yours," then she produced a
man's handkerchief from her jacket pocket and used it to pick up Nassir's
weapon.
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