Shadows of Recovery (Everhart Family #3)

Chapter 11

Eleven

B rad Killian, the assistant district commander for field operations of the South Dakota Highway Patrol Bureau, was reviewing the morning's reports in his office in Pierre when his phone buzzed against the desk. The screen lit up with the name Chief Gerald Dawson of the Waverly County Police Department. Brad's instincts kicked in—calls from Chief Dawson rarely brought good news.

"Killian," he answered, sounding steady and authoritative.

"Brad, we have a situation," Dawson's voice crackled through the phone, filled with worry. "The Eldon Sect has taken over Waverly County Hospital."

Brad's heart skipped a beat. The Eldon Sect was notorious for their extremist views and violent methods. "What do we know?" he demanded, already mentally mobilizing his rapid response team.

"We've sealed off the hospital. Shots have been fired," Dawson reported. "According to witnesses who escaped, a female doctor is being dragged by her hair and used as a shield. We don’t know if anyone has been seriously injured yet, but there are multiple hostages. The hospital was at patient capacity."

A cold dread settled in Brad’s stomach. "How many hostages are we talking about?" His mind raced through protocols and strategies.

"At least a hundred, but it’s hard to get an exact count with visitors included," Dawson replied. "We're still trying to establish contact with the hostage-takers."

Brad did a quick internet search as he spoke to the chief. The hospital had 147 staffed beds. That told him at least twenty-five nurses, ancillary staff and visitors took it over 200 hostages.

"Understood. I’m calling up my rapid response team now," Brad said firmly. "I’ll also alert the FBI resident agency in Pierre as soon as we’re off the phone. I’m heading your way—ETA about two hours."

Brad ended the call and immediately dialed Ethan Hayes, Special Agent in Charge of the FBI resident agency in Pierre.

Ethan picked up on the second ring. "Hayes here."

"Ethan, it's Brad. We’ve got a hostage situation at Waverly County Hospital. The Eldon Sect has taken over. Shots fired. Hostages are being held. I’m heading there now, but I need you to mobilize and get there ASAP."

Ethan swore softly. "I’m working from home in Spring Hill today. I’ll head there right away. My ETA is ten minutes. Have you initiated contact with the hostage-takers?" Brad could hear Ethan shuffling in the background.

"Not yet. WCPD is working on it," Brad replied. "One more thing—Molly's sister, Sophie, the ER doctor, is she working today? Can you confirm?" Brad was close friends with Olivia Everhart, and Ethan was engaged to Molly Everhart. They were Sophie’s sisters. Both men now worried more.

There was a pause before Ethan responded, his voice tight, "I just asked Molly. Yes, Sophie is on duty. Damn it, Brad, she’s in there."

A wave of nausea passed over him. He knew Sophie Everhart, not just professionally but personally. "I’ll do everything I can, Ethan," he promised.

"I know you will. I’ll see you there," Ethan said, hanging up.

Brad quickly dialed another number, his thoughts turning to Isobel Everhart, Sophie’s sister, a forensic psychologist he had worked with on numerous occasions.

Isobel picked up, her voice calm but curious. "Brad, what do you have for me?”

"Belle, it’s not a case. It’s about Sophie. I confirmed she’s at the hospital today. The Eldon Sect has taken over, and there are hostages," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Is she okay? I’ve worked with women who have fled them. God, Brad, they’re dangerous."

"We don’t have all the details yet, but I’m on my way there now. I wanted you to know from me," Brad said. "I’ll do everything possible to get her and everyone else out safely."

Isobel's voice trembled slightly. "Have you called my mom? She needs to know. And Alex—he’s an investigator with the Justice Department. They’re both in Waverly Junction today—it’s their first Valentine’s Day."

Brad nodded, though she couldn’t see him. "They’re my next calls. Stay strong, Belle.”

“I trust you, Brad," she said softly, and the line went dead.

Taking a deep breath, Brad dialed Charlotte Everhart, the retired deputy police chief of Waverly County. As the phone rang, he braced himself for the next conversation. Charlotte answered quickly, her voice happy and light.

"Charlotte, it’s Brad Killian. I hate making this call. There’s a hostage situation at the hospital. The Eldon Sect has taken over, and,” he inhaled again, “Sophie is among the hostages," he said, laying it out plainly.

Charlotte didn’t waste a moment. "I’m heading there now. Alex Marcel is with me.”

“I’m coming from Pierre. I spoke with Ethan. At the scene, tread lightly. Gerald Dawson is in charge. You’re part of this as a courtesy.”

“I won’t get in the way. Gerald Dawson is a good man, but taking over a hospital… It’s not a run-of-the-mill situation.”

Brad managed to chuckle. "Thanks, Charlotte. I’m on my way. We’ll need all hands on deck for this one," he admitted.

He had to make one more call. He was sure Detective Olivia Everhart from the Waverly County Police Department had already been called in, but Liv was a dear friend, and she had to be beyond upset about her sister Sophie. He needed to touch base with her, to let her know he was working the situation and that she wasn’t alone in her worry.

Olivia picked up quickly, her voice tense. "Brad, I assume you’ve heard?"

"Yeah, I heard. I’m heading to the hospital now," he said, trying to convey calm and confidence through the phone. "I wanted to let you know that, as soon as our people get there, it’s our scene, and I’m on top of this via phone. We’re mobilizing every resource we have."

"Thank you, Brad," Olivia said, her voice wavering slightly. "I’m already at the scene. It’s a mess, and... knowing Sophie is in there..."

"I know. We’ll get her out. We’ll get all of them out," Brad assured her. "Stay strong. We need you sharp and focused."

"I’m trying. I really am," she said, taking a deep breath. "Just... keep me in the loop, okay?"

"Of course. I’ll see you soon," Brad replied. "Hang in there."

After hanging up, Brad slipped his Bluetooth earpiece into place and grabbed his go bag, filled with essential gear and supplies for rapid deployment. He took a final look around his office, ensuring he had everything he needed, then headed out the door.

As he drove, Brad’s thoughts returned to the Everhart family. He knew Charlotte, Isobel, Olivia, Ruth and Sophie well, both personally and professionally. The Everharts were strong, resilient, and dedicated to their community. He had to stay focused and composed, despite the personal connections.

Brad’s car sped down the highway, the miles ticking away as he neared Waverly County. His phone buzzed with updates from his team and the FBI. Each report was a reminder of the gravity of the situation, but also of the resources and skilled personnel being mobilized.

As he approached the outskirts of Waverly County and the hospital’s grounds, the flashing lights of police vehicles and the sound of distant sirens filled the air. Brad pulled up to the command center, a temporary trailer with communication equipment, maps, building diagrams and law enforcement personnel coordinating the response.

Brad stepped out of his car, his go bag slung over his shoulder, and made his way to the center of the activity. He spotted Ethan Hayes, Charlotte Everhart and Alex Marcel deep in discussion with the chief of the county police department. Olivia stood nearby, her face a mix of professional focus and personal worry.

“Brad,” Ethan greeted him, extending a hand. “Glad you’re here. We’ve set up a perimeter and are working on establishing contact with the hostage-takers. It’s been two-plus hours, and no one has answered our requests.”

“Good to see you, Ethan,” Brad replied, shaking his hand firmly. “Alex, Charlotte, Liv.” He nodded to them. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

Alex gave a curt nod, his eyes hard with determination. “DOJ is holding back an official response. A political and bureaucratic clusterfuck. But it doesn’t stop my participation as a citizen. Let’s bring them all home.”

Brad took a deep breath. He knew the hours would be critical, requiring every ounce of his experience and training.

“Alright,” Brad said, his voice strong and clear. “Tell me where we’re at.”

* * *

The command center hummed with tension as officers and agents moved with purpose, communicating updates and strategizing their next moves. Brad stood in the middle of it all, his eyes fixed on the hospital. The first step was to establish contact with the hostage-takers, but so far, their demands had gone unanswered.

The chief’s voice boomed through the command center’s loudspeaker, echoing across the parking lot. “This is Chief Gerald Dawson of the Waverly County Police Department. We need to speak with the person in charge. Pick up the ER phone and talk to us.”

Silence answered him. Brad felt every second ticking by, each moment building the danger inside the hospital. He grabbed the loudspeaker from Dawson, his voice cutting through the still air with authority and calm.

“This is Assistant District Commander Brad Killian of the South Dakota Highway Patrol Bureau. I need to speak with the person in charge. Please pick up the ER phone now.”

Brad handed the loudspeaker back and walked over to the phone line that had been set up to the hospital’s emergency room. He dialed the number, listening to the ringing on the other end. It felt like forever before the call was answered. Finally, a soft, trembling female voice came through the line, “Hello?”

Brad’s heart clenched. “Who am I speaking with?”

“It’s Sophie. Dr. Sophie Everhart.”

Relief and dread washed over him simultaneously. He knew she was alive, but he could feel her fear. “Sophie, this is Brad Killian. Who is in charge there?”

There was a brief pause before Sophie responded, “Damon Whitlock. He’s the one in charge.”

Brad’s grip tightened on the phone. Damon Whitlock was a known figure within the Eldon Sect, a man with a reputation for violence and fanaticism. He was the sixth Whitlock son. His father Trace was the one usually in charge. He wondered if Damon had Trace’s permission. “Sophie, I need you to tell Damon I want to speak with him. Can you do that for me?”

He heard her take a deep breath. “I will,” she said, her voice steadying with determination.

The line went silent as Sophie relayed the message. Brad strained to hear any hint of what was happening on the other end.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound, a slap, followed by Sophie’s cry of pain. Brad’s blood ran cold. His voice dropped to a controlled, dangerous tone. “Damon, this is Brad Killian. I want to speak with you. Right now.”

There was a shuffling sound, and then a new voice, cold and mocking, filled the line. “This is Damon Whitlock. What do you want, Killian?”

Brad took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining his composure. “Damon, we need to resolve this peacefully. No one else needs to get hurt.”

A dark chuckle echoed through the phone. “You think this is about peace? This is about making a statement. The world needs to know we won’t be silenced.”

Brad searched for a way to de-escalate the situation. “Damon, we can talk about your message, but we need to ensure the safety of the people in the hospital. Let’s start by discussing what you want.”

“What I want,” Damon sneered, “is for you to back off and let us complete our mission. Any interference, and more people will get hurt. Understand?”

Brad’s jaw tightened. He needed to buy time, to find a way to negotiate without provoking further violence. “I understand, Damon. But we need to keep the lines of communication open. Can we agree on that?”

There was a pause, then a begrudging response. “Fine. But don’t test my patience, Killian. You won’t like the consequences.”

The line went dead. Brad set the phone down. He turned to the team gathered around him. “We’ve got a direct line to Whitlock, but he’s volatile. We need to tread carefully.”

Ethan Hayes stepped forward, his face grim. “What’s our next move?”

Brad looked at the hospital. “We keep him talking. We buy time. We gain some intel. And we prepare for every possibility.”

Olivia Everhart, her eyes red-rimmed but focused, joined them. “Brad, we need to get Sophie and the others out of there. Whatever it takes.”

“We will,” Brad promised, his voice stubborn. “We’re going to bring them home.”

Brad stood by the command center, his mind going through the potential motivations and dynamics within the Eldon Sect. Damon Whitlock wasn’t just any member; he was the sixth son of the notorious family deeply entrenched in extremist ideology. Understanding the internal politics of the Whitlock family could be crucial in predicting Damon’s actions.

"Ethan," Brad called out. "I need you to check in with the Whitlocks in Eldon Falls. Damon is the sixth son. Did he have the old man’s permission to do this?"

Ethan nodded, understanding immediately. "Got it, Brad. I’ll send a team and find out what we can. If Damon’s acting on his own, it might give us an angle to exploit."

"Be careful," Brad warned. "The Whitlocks are unpredictable, and we don’t want to escalate things unnecessarily."

Ethan nodded again, his face set in grim determination, and moved off to assemble his team. Brad watched him go, then turned as Charlotte approached, her expression serious.

"Brad, has anyone let Tristan Blackwell know about this?" she asked. "He’s the head of the ER, and he and Sophie are living together."

A chorus of "no’s" greeted her question, and Charlotte’s eyes narrowed in concern.

"He needs to know. I’ll call him." She rubbed the back of her neck.

As she pulled out her phone, Olivia stepped forward, her face etched with fresh worry. "Mom, Tristan’s in New York giving a lecture. His father died while he was there. He’s already dealing with a lot."

"We can’t avoid telling him," Brad said gently. "He deserves to know, especially if things take a turn for the worse."

Charlotte nodded, her resolve firming. She dialed Tristan’s number and stood waiting for him to answer. It was clear he picked up when she took a deep breath. "Tristan, there’s a situation at Waverly County Hospital. The Eldon Sect has taken hostages, and Sophie is among them."

After a moment, she said, “Tristan, I’m putting you on speaker. I’m standing with the lead negotiator, Brad Killian.”

"What? No, that can’t be... I need to get back there. I need to be with her."

"Tristan, I know this is a lot to take in," Charlotte said softly. "The authorities are doing everything they can to get her out safely."

"My scheduled flight leaves in two hours," Tristan’s voice broke. "I need to do something."

"Trust us, Tristan,” she pleaded.

“Hi, Tristan. This is Brad Killian from the Highway Patrol,” he cut her off. "We have the best people on this. Stay strong for Sophie."

Tristan took a shaky breath. "Okay. But please keep me updated. I can’t lose her."

"We will," Brad promised before handing the phone back to Charlotte, who took the phone off speaker.

As Charlotte finished the conversation, Brad turned to Olivia. "Liv, I need you to see if you can find anything on Damon Whitlock—school records, financials, marriage license and birth certificates for any kids, if any of that exists. They’re living on tribal land and under their authority. I’m going to reach out to the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”

Olivia nodded. "I’m on it."

Brad took a moment to gather his thoughts. The pieces were in motion: Ethan was investigating the Whitlock family, Charlotte had informed Tristan, Olivia was investigating Damon, and the team was preparing for whatever lay ahead.

"We’re going to keep Damon talking," Brad addressed the team. "We need to buy time and gather as much intel as we can. Ethan’s looking into the Whitlock family dynamics. If we can find any leverage, we’ll use it."

He turned to two of his personnel. “Get me eyes in that building.” He leaned over a map. “Find a blind spot and go in there.” He put a finger on the map. “Dixon, get the Bureau of Indian Affairs on the line. I need to speak with their officer and the chief of the land where the Eldon Sect resides.”

The group nodded, their faces set with determination. Brad picked up the phone again, dialing the emergency room number.

It rang once, twice, then a voice answered, "This is Damon."

"Damon, it’s Brad Killian. Let’s talk," Brad said, his voice steady. "What do you need to resolve this peacefully?"

As Damon began to speak, Brad listened carefully—every word, every nuance a potential clue to defusing the crisis. He figured they were in for a long, difficult standoff.