“I’ll be right back,” Truman said to the agent he was helping and went to seek out Jeff. He found Jeff deep in discussion with three other agents near the SWAT RV. One of them was Supervisory Special Agent Bill Ghattas out of Portland; he was the head of the America’s Preserve operation to find Mercy and generate a peaceful outcome. Ghattas had curly black hair and was big with broad shoulders. He looked like a defensive tackle.
Truman immediately interrupted. “You said you needed a stronger reason to explain your presence to the men in the compound. O’Shea reported that there was essentially no medical care available inside and that was part of the reason they’d approved the addition of his ‘nurse’ girlfriend.” Truman included all four agents as he spoke. “Odds are they had to seek medical care outside the compound—possibly for something urgent like a broken bone or woodcutting accident. Maybe one of the kids has needed emergency care. Someone should contact local medical facilities and see if anyone has been brought in with a serious injury—something that endangered their lives because of where and how they live.” “HIPAA laws won’t let medical professionals disclose that sort of information without the permission of the patient or else their parent,” Agent Ghattas pointed out. “I know,” answered Truman. “But look where we’re standing: the boondocks. Small-town residents talk and gossip and for the most part want to be of help. If we find the right person, we might get lucky with some information.” The female agent nodded. “He’s right. If a child from that compound came into a doctor’s office with an alarming injury, people would hear about it.” “Medical offices are closed,” said the man standing next to Ghattas. “We can’t do anything about it until tomorrow.” “The hospital is open,” Truman stated. “Ever visit a small rural hospital? Everyone knows everything about the people who walk through the doors. We can start there.” The group was silent for a long moment. “You got anything else?” Truman asked. “If you highlight lack of medical care, it might give more weight to negotiating the release of the children.” Agent Ghattas nodded thoughtfully, approval growing in his eyes. “They know why we’re here. They murdered the ATF agent that was inside,” argued the agent who had mentioned the medical offices were closed. “It’s logical that his girlfriend isn’t who she says she is. They’ll know we’re here to get her out—assuming she’s not already dead alongside a road like the first guy.” “Sanders!” Jeff said sharply, shooting a glance at Truman. Truman held up a hand to stop Jeff. He had asked Jeff to keep his relationship with Mercy on a need-to-know basis. Ghattas had repeatedly measured him with his eyes, speculating and curious, and Truman suspected he knew. Truman preferred to hear the agents talk openly in his presence and not hold back to avoid upsetting the panicked fiancé. “We don’t know that’s happened,” Truman told the group, crossing his fingers in the hope that the pessimistic man wasn’t one of the negotiators. “Until someone inside acknowledges there is an FBI agent undercover, this is our best shot.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jeff open his mouth and then snap it closed, respecting Truman’s wishes. “It’s worth a try,” stated Ghattas. He met Truman’s gaze. “I know the ATF agent was found in your town, Chief, so you feel you have a stake in this.” He jerked his head toward Jeff. “This guy has vouched for you. It’s your idea, so you get hospital duty tonight. I can’t spare an agent at the moment. And put together a list of other medical facilities in the area to visit tomorrow—I suspect the list will be short.” Satisfied, Truman nodded at the agents and left. Jeff caught up and strode beside him. “It’s a good idea,” Jeff said. “Unlikely, but solid.” Truman didn’t say anything. “I told SSA Ghattas who you were—this is his operation. He knows your fiancée is in there and agreed it didn’t need to be public knowledge. I assured him you wouldn’t cause problems. He said it’s my ass if you do.” “And?” “Just putting it out there. Again.” Truman halted and turned to Mercy’s boss, irritation boiling under his skin. “Yes, I’m a damned wreck inside, but I wouldn’t do anything to compromise this operation. You don’t need to remind me.” He stalked away to get the vehicle keys from Eddie, leaving Jeff behind, needing to stay in constant motion to burn off the clouds of apprehension and disquiet hovering around him. If I keep moving, Mercy will survive. The logic was false, but he gripped the thought like a lifeline. Because he was already dying inside.