Page 150 of The Deadly Shallows

Groaning soldiers and inmates littered the ground as medics surveyed the field, assessing greatest need.

Brooke grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him. “I need to stay and help.”

The idea of her away from his side troubled him.

She scanned the grounds before them. “There are too many wounded and not enough medics to help.”

He looked at the blood soaking into the white snow around wounded Marines, the sparse number of medics, and EMTs rushing between the wounded as fast as they could while a triage tent was being set up.

“Noah, I need to do this.”

“I understand. You go do your thing. They can definitely use your help. Just be safe, okay?” He squeezed her hand, then slipped off his coat. “Take this.”

“No.” She wrapped her light jacket tighter about her. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t mind the cold,” he said. “Take it. Please.”

She grabbed hold and slipped into it. “Thanks. Now you go do your thing.”

He nodded and rushed toward the inferno. Glancing back, he saw her moving to the soldier closest to her.

“Fire is fifty-percent contained,” a fireman said over his radio as Noah approached.

“The men are just making it into Pod One, pulling back and squeezing through the rubble,” the firefighter on the other end replied. “Pod Two is shot all to heck, and the fire is still ablaze in there.”

“And Pod Three?” the fireman asked.

“It’s just about breachable. We don’t yet have a count of how many inmates are injured, or how many have escaped. US Marshals are en route.”

The fireman signed off and turned to Noah. “Yeah?”

“CGIS Agent Noah Rowley, Wilmington, North Carolina. Do you know who is in charge of the barracks?”

“You want that guy.” The firefighter pointed to the back of a man towering over six-four.

“Thanks.” Noah hurried over and made the same introduction.

“Lieutenant Colonel Miller. What are you doing here all the way from North Carolina?” He moved about, radioing out instructions, calling in more troops. “Call in the National Guard if you need to, local police—I don’t care. And where are the Marshals?”

“ETA ten minutes.”

He turned his attention to Noah. “Is it your team that sent the warning about this?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Noah said.

“Thanks for what warning we did get. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.” He shook his head as he stared out over the destruction. “Not nearly enough.”

“I’m so sorry. We’re here about—”

“Prisoner Mirch—I know. He’s in Pod Three. We’re just about to breach it. Peterson!” he hollered.

“Yes, sir,” MP Peterson said.

“This is the CGIS agent who sent the warning. Take him with you into Pod Three. He needs to confirm Mirch’s presence.”

“Yes, sir.” Peterson saluted.

Noah followed Peterson, a small contingent of Marines, and several of the fort MPs.