The man in the black suit let him pass, but Jack didn't move. Instead, he turned to the dazed Hotchner and whispered, "What did that terrorist disguised as a civilian say to you?"
"What did he say?" Hotchner shook his dizzy head and subconsciously repeated the question. Due to the excessive blood loss and the timely appearance of his teammates, the adrenaline effect was wearing off quickly. He was now a little exhausted and wanted nothing more than to collapse and get a good night's sleep.
"He said... he recognized me as a police officer. Well, he saw the pistol on my waistband, so he recognized me. Then he told me he called 911 and stayed with Kate and me until you arrived."
"But he didn't call 911," Jack thought of the anonymous phone he had found on the deceased, which had a single unknown number on it. "Did he call in front of you?"
"Yes," Hotchner was startled. He vaguely understood what Jack was hinting at and couldn't help but look towards the back of the ambulance.
"Don't be silly." Jack pushed him, pulled open the small window connecting to the ambulance compartment, and anxiously said to the bald paramedic, "Hey, this hospital is on lockdown. We're going to Knox Hill Hospital. Do you know how to get there?"
Because Jack hadn't turned off the ambulance siren, the paramedic in the back car had no idea what he had said to the people outside. "Knox Hill Hospital? It's too far. I don't think she can make it to Knox Hill Hospital. You're the FBI, don't you have any privileges?"
"Okay, I'll call my boss right away, man. Thank you." Jack, already understanding, rolled up the small window again, turned off the ambulance siren, and opened the door to get out under the bewildered gaze of the Secret Service agents outside. "
Give me your walkie-talkie. I want to speak directly to Joey Reacher."
"Didn't I tell you you can?" The man in the black suit holding the walkie-talkie, still unsure what was going on, was interrupted by Jack's tilted head and a look. He immediately understood and handed the walkie-talkie to him, waving to the other colleagues to surround the ambulance from behind.
Jack pulled out the Sig Sauer P320-XTen from his waistband and pressed the talk button on the intercom. "Joey, it's me, Jack. Who are you protecting in the hospital?"
"Jack? Is that you? This is classified. I can't." Jack Reacher's brother, Joey, came over the intercom.
"Listen to me. This is important. The person you're protecting could be in danger. I don't have time to explain. You trust me, don't you?" Jack's voice was steady as he walked to the back door of the ambulance and placed his hand on the door handle.
Joey, on the other end of the intercom, was a little confused. "Of course, but okay, you can't leak this information. It's the President of Bolivia. He's here for heart surgery and is on the operating table right now."
Jack had already circled to the rear door of the ambulance, pulled down the door handle, and flung it open.
At that moment, a long, daunting beep echoed from inside the ambulance. It was the heart rate monitor. The bald paramedic, who had placed his hands on Joyner's chest, preparing to perform a heart massage, turned back nervously.
"Man, we're going to lose her! Her heartbeat..."
"Bang! Bang!"
The bald paramedic's body slumped beside the stretcher, his eyes wide open.
"What the hell is going on?" Several Secret Service agents, completely confused about the situation, subconsciously pointed their guns at Jack, who had fired the gun.
"Drop the gun, drop the gun." The man in the black suit who had checked Jack's ID probably guessed something and quickly pressed down his colleague's gun.
"I'll explain to Joey later. Now I need a favor of you." Jack pulled the stretcher out of the ambulance with force. At this time, Hotchner also staggered to his side, looking at Joyner, who was still unconscious, with concern.
"Help me send them both to the emergency room. They both need a doctor." Jack unplugged the IV and checked Joyner's condition. He picked up a syringe on the ground and took a look. The damn guy had added nitroglycerin to the saline solution, causing her arrhythmia.
He then climbed into the car and rummaged through the body of the bald paramedic, or rather, terrorist, pulling out a pistol and an unmarked cell phone.
After dumping the body out of the ambulance, Jack scanned the surroundings, reaching out to open each locker within the car. The Secret Service agents standing in the back, peering in, gasped and instinctively took two steps back.
Every available storage space was filled with bags of red "chocolate"-like objects. When Jack finally lifted the lid of a long metal seat on the side of the car, which doubled as both a seat and storage area, the dense network of wires and the cell phone connected to it spoke volumes.
"I'll leave this to you."
Jack jumped out, closed the door again, and quickly climbed into the driver's seat.
"Jack!" Hotchner, who was holding the stretcher, subconsciously called out to him, his eyes filled with worry. He knew exactly what Jack was about to do.
"We need to find a safe place," Jack replied calmly, sirens blaring, the accelerator pressed, and the car turned and drove away.
It wasn't that he was trying to be a hero. The problem was that the C4 he had just seen weighed at least a ton. Who knew how much those terrorists had crammed into the entire car? No wonder the car couldn't move fast even when he'd stepped on the accelerator. He'd thought it was in such poor condition.
This was Manhattan, where every inch of land was valuable. If so much C4 were detonated in the basement of the hospital, it would be enough to destroy the entire building. Even if it exploded on an open street, the buildings on both sides would probably be destroyed.
According to the Durango drug cartel's previous style, in addition to manual detonation, they would definitely have set a timer for safety.
Although he hadn't seen the beeping alarm timer used in movies to elicit emotional responses, this bomb, unlike the threatening collar bomb attached to Alice's neck, required a conspicuous red indicator to alert the FBI.
As Jack drove, pondering a suitable location, Garcia's anxious voice came over the comms.
"Jack, something's wrong. The number you asked me to check keeps moving, matching the trajectory of your ambulance. You're being followed."
Driving a "suicide truck" capable of shattering oneself into pieces, it would be a lie to say he wasn't terrified. His adrenaline was already running high.
He tried to keep his legs from shaking as he pressed the accelerator, keeping his voice steady. "We're not being followed. It's a terrorist impersonating an EMT. I've taken him out, but there's one last problem.
Garcia, I need you to find a safe place to detonate a truckload of C4 explosives. It should weigh at least a ton, maybe two, maybe more. The faster the better. Damn, this car can only go 60 mph right now."
A silence fell on the channel, as Garcia struggled to process the meaning of Jack's words.
"Garcia, are you still there? Help!" Jack said anxiously.
"OK, OK." Garcia was even more nervous than he was, the sound of her keyboard clacking echoing through the channel.
"Uh, north, Central Park. That's the largest open space in Manhattan. God, why does it always have to be you? Why does it always have to be you?!"
"Maybe it's because I'm handsome enough." Jack looked at the road as he opened the anonymous phone he'd just found on the bald terrorist's body. As expected, he found a caller ID. It belonged to the guy who had disguised himself as a civilian.
Apparently, the phone number on this phone was the one he had asked Garcia to check before. Then, as expected, he found a countdown on the phone, which made him breathe a sigh of relief. There were still nearly 20 minutes left.
"Garcia, contact Commissioner Reagan of the NYPD directly and tell him that they have 15 minutes to evacuate the people in Central Park. The bomb will explode in 19 minutes and 20 seconds. The range will be very large, and a large enough evacuation area is needed."
Garcia's voice was filled with tears again. "I'm already in contact. Thank God, because the NYPD maintained a traffic blockade before, there will be no traffic jam now. You can get there in ten minutes at most." "
Okay, just in case, I should turn on the signal jammer and ask the NYPD to wait for me at the entrance of the south gate, which is the one with the subway entrance. Wish me luck!"
"Jack!" Garcia cried out, and the next moment, the signal was interrupted.
(End of this chapter)