The Coming Storm by Mark Alpert

Author:Mark Alpert
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

TWENTY

A burst of gunfire shattered the windows of Gracie Mansion’s library. Jenna grabbed Tamara’s arm and yanked her down to the carpet.

Frank the cop did the same thing for the mayor, pulling him down to the floor and out of the line of fire. Then, lying faceup, Frank drew his pistol and aimed at the beautiful Tiffany chandelier hanging from the ceiling. His shot obliterated the bowl of colored glass and the lightbulbs within, and the library went dark. Now it would be harder for the soldiers outside to target them.

Jenna should’ve been terrified, but she wasn’t. Over the past twenty-four hours she’d gotten a crash course in surviving police shoot-outs, and she’d learned the importance of keeping calm and staying low. She listened carefully to the battle outside the mansion: the thumping of the helicopters, the shouts of the soldiers, the sputtering gunshots. The Federal officers who’d leapt from the choppers were exchanging fire with the New York cops in front of the building. Their bullets smashed the windowpanes and strafed the library, whizzing across the room just a couple of feet above Jenna and Tamara. They were still too exposed. They needed to move away from the windows and find better cover.

Tamara lay on her stomach next to a bookcase. She’d removed her revolver from the waistband of her jeans and pointed it at one of the shattered windows, but the gun shook in her hands. Jenna crawled closer to her. “Tamara! Does this place have a basement?”

She didn’t respond. Her teeth chattered and her eyes stayed on the window, which still had a couple of unbroken panes. She’d probably never fired a gun before. Or been shot at either.

Jenna touched her arm, which was tense and trembling. “Listen to me, okay? We can’t stay here. Is there a basement in this building?”

Keeping her eyes on the window, Tamara nodded. “There’s a staff office down there.” She jerked her head to the left. “The stairs are that way, past the dining room.”

Jenna turned to Frank, who also lay on his stomach, pointing his gun at one of the windows. The mayor cringed beside him on the carpet, curling his lanky frame into a ball. Jenna whistled to get their attention. “Come on! We’re going to the office downstairs!”

Then she scrambled out of the library. After a moment of hesitation, the others followed.

More gunfire pummeled the mansion as Jenna crawled on her hands and knees across the dining room. She winced at the noise but didn’t slow down. This was a bad situation, but it wasn’t any worse than the shoot-out at Green-Wood Cemetery or the massacre at Bay Parkway or the firefight outside her apartment building in Brighton Beach. She had a chance of surviving it if she didn’t lose her head, so she kept her focus on reaching the stairway. Tamara crawled behind her, and Frank brought up the rear, practically dragging DeMarco across the floor. They were going along with her plan because it made sense, she guessed.

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