A phone rang, and Reynolds answered it. After a few minutes of arguing with whoever was on the other end, Reynolds hung up and looked at Gabriel.
“They’ve just helped a heap of people from the Lang’s Lane exits. The fool in charge won’t send me the list of names until he clears it with his boss. Don’t suppose you want to head over a
nd check it out for me?”
It was a better option than waiting here for some sign of his brother. “I’ll give you a call back with the names.”
He made his way out of the van. The night air, despite its residue of heat, seemed crisper, cleaner. Or maybe it just seemed that way because Hanrahan wasn’t yet on the confirmed dead list. There was hope yet.
He walked around to Lang’s Lane. Thirty or more people huddled near the end of the lane, watched by two officers in black. He frowned, wondering why they weren’t being taken straight to an ambulance. A good third of them were bleeding or looked dazed, and one of the men was supported by a woman half his size. All were wearing the SIU gray, though none were faces he recognized.
He approached the more senior-looking of the two State officers and flashed his badge. “What’s the problem, Officer? Why aren’t these people being taken for medical help?”
“There’s been a report of a gas leak up near Spencer. They’re shifting the medical teams to a new position. We’ve been told to wait, as this position is fairly secure.”
“There’s no medical unit that can come down to help these people?”
The officer shook his head. “They’ve called for more medical staff; I know they’re sending teams over from St. Vincent’s and the Freemason’s. Even the Mercy is sending help. Until they get here, and until they tell us the leak is clear, we have to stay put.”
“Over on King Street we have a doctor checking the identities of the wounded and dead as they’re being loaded into the ambulances. Call your people and tell them you’re moving there.” He hesitated, and then added, “Some of these people need help urgently.” The officer looked set to argue, but he glanced at the people behind them and nodded. Gabriel moved across to the second officer. “These were the only people to come out of this exit?”
The towheaded officer nodded. “These are the last, we think, but until they give us an all-clear from the gas leak, we can’t go back in to check.”
He nodded. If there was a gas leak, then they had to stop it quickly, especially with the small fires still burning inside the building. “Do you have the names and badge numbers of these evacuees? I need to send a copy to our people.”
The young officer hesitated. “We’ve been told all requests for information have to go through headquarters, but I guess these are your people …” He glanced furtively at his partner, then quickly showed Gabriel the list.
He scanned it through to Reynolds, then smiled his thanks at the young officer as his partner approached.
“They’ve given us the okay to move them. We could do with your help, sir, if you aren’t too busy. As you said, a couple of them are in pretty bad shape.”
He nodded. “I’ll take the man being supported by the woman. You two help the others.”
The woman glanced up as he approached. Her face was a mess, the entire left side raw and bleeding, her eye was shut and swollen and her lips were split and puffy. Her body didn’t look much better. Her gray suit was torn and stained black by dirt and dried blood. Even the arm that supported her companion was bloody and bruised. But for all that, there was a look of intense elation in her gray eyes. Staring death in the eye and escaping had that sort of effect on you.
“Agents Layton and Byrne, from the Director’s office,” she said, her mellow voice cracked and edged with pain.
Gabriel’s heart rate leapt. “See any sign of Hanrahan?” he asked, trying to remain calm as he slipped a shoulder under Byrne’s, taking his weight off Layton’s injured arm.
Layton shook her head. “But Byrne here was with him, last I saw him. Maybe he can tell you what happened once he’s lucid.”
It was the closest he’d come to finding his brother, and hope soared. The two officers began moving the others off. “You okay to walk, Layton?”
Her sudden grin was cheerful. “I just escaped a bombing attempt basically unharmed. Believe me, I think I could fly right now.”
Byrne groaned softly as Layton moved away. Gabriel shifted his grip, and then glanced down.
And found himself staring into very familiar green eyes.
“Don’t react,” Stephan whispered urgently. “I’ll explain when we’re alone.”
Don’t react? When he’d been half convinced he’d find his twin under concrete? The sheer stupidity of the request made him shake his head. For an instant he wasn’t sure whether to hug Stephan fiercely or throttle him. In the end, he did neither. Stephan knew how he felt. He could see the relief and love reflected in his twin’s eyes.
“You’d better explain,” he muttered. He shifted his hold again and followed the two officers.
“And so had you, brother. So had you.”
Stephan’s voice faded. Gabriel wondered what he’d meant. His twin’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. Sweat beaded his forehead and ran down the side of his face, scouring clean channels across his blood-smeared chin. Fighting not the pain of his injuries, Gabriel knew, but rather for the strength to maintain Byrne’s image.