Robert Crais - Hostage

“Thomas?”

“I’m here, Chief.”

The boy’s voice broke up, salty with static.

“We’re almost there. Three minutes, maybe four. As soon as we get Krupchek, the firemen will come in.”

“It’s getting hot.”

“I know. Is Krupchek still in the bedroom?”

Talley wanted to keep the boy talking. If he was talking, he wouldn’t have time to think about how scared he was. Neither would Talley.

“He’s sitting on the floor by the-”

The cell line went dead.

“Thomas? Thomas?”

Nothing.

The boy’s phone had finally failed. Jones glanced over his shoulder at Talley, and twirled his finger. They were spooling up, getting ready to launch.

“Let’s go, goddamnit.”

Jones jabbed his finger at the window.

“Go!”

Jones went first, Talley giving him a boost up, then scrambling inside after him. The room was lit only by the low wall of flame that barred the door to the hall. The master bedroom door was only ten feet away. Jones shot the bolt on his MP5; Talley popped the slide on his pistol. They turned on their flashlights, then met each other’s eyes. Talley nodded. Jones keyed his mike.

“Now.”

Talley heard the sliding glass doors in the master bedroom shatter at the same time that the front door blew inward off its hinges.

Two fast shots came from the master bedroom. Talley and Jones charged down the hall as a third shot cracked in the bedroom, then they were through the door.

The bedroom was an inferno. The man who had shattered the glass doors was down, writhing in agony. Talley glimpsed a flash of movement from his right and saw Krupchek heave up from behind a Morris chair, chest bare and glistening, an angry, strictured smile on his face. Krupchek screamed, a high-pitched screech, as he swung his pistol, pumping out shots even as Talley and Jones fired. Krupchek stumbled backward, arms windmilling as he fell into the flames, thrashing and still screaming. Jones fired two short bursts into him and he was still.

They unstrapped their fire extinguishers as Jones’s other men cleared through the door, covering the room with their weapons.

Talley shouted, “We’re clear!”

Jones pointed at the first two, then the fallen man.

“You and you, him, out to the van.”

Talley blasted gouts of CO 2at the burning security door, and shouted for Jones to help.

“Jones! The kids are in here.”

Jones shoved the next man toward the door.

“The office is at the front of the house. Make sure the hall is clear.”

“Help me get these kids!”

Jones and the last man joined Talley at the wall. Their CO 2extinguishers hissed like dragons. The red walls turned black as the flames engulfing them died. Talley banged at the door with his fire extinguisher.

“Thomas! It’s me!”

The fire on the walls licked to life again, eating away the paint.

“Thomas!”

Talley fogged the door as it opened. The boy and his sister stood back, wary of the heat. Jones grabbed Talley’s arm.

“They’re yours, Talley. We’re getting the disks.”

Talley let them go. He blasted the walls around the door again to beat back the flames, then stepped through and took the boy’s hand.

“We’re going to move fast. Stay behind me.”

Jennifer crowded next to him, nervously peering around him into the room.

“Is he dead?”

Talley ached when he saw her. Jennifer and Amanda were close to the same age. They wore their hair in the same cut. He wondered where Amanda was now. He wondered if she was looking for her own monster.

“He’s dead, Jennifer. Come on. You guys did great.”

Talley hurried them along the hall, using the fire extinguisher whenever the flames crowded too close. He paused only long enough to switch his radio to the Bristo frequency, and called Mikkelson.

“Mikki!”

“Go, Chief!”

“The kids are coming out the front. Take care of them.”

When they reached the entry, Talley could see into the office. Jones and his men were searching Smith’s desk. Talley pulled Thomas aside out of their view, knowing that these were his last few moments to save his own family. The Watchman would know that they had entered the house. He would be calling Jones for a report, and he would be expecting the disks.

Talley bent close to the boy.

“Are the disks still up in your room?”

“Yeah. With my computer.”

Talley pointed at Mikkelson waiting in the cul-de-sac, and pushed the kids through the door.

“Go to her. Go!”

Talley waited to see that both kids ran toward the cars, then he slipped up the stairs. The air on the second floor was dense with smoke so thick that it choked the beam from his flashlight to a dull glow. He couldn’t see more than a few feet. He worked his way along the wall and found Rooney lying outside the first door. Red bubbles clustered on Rooney’s chest and mouth like glass mushrooms. Talley couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive, and didn’t take the time to check. He kicked Rooney’s pistol away, then looked in the first room long enough to realize that it belonged to Jennifer. He moved down the hall. The second room belonged to the boy. Talley found his computer on the floor at the far side of the bed. One disk sat on the floor, the other in a disk drive beside the keyboard. Talley held the light close to read their labels, his heart pounding, and saw that he had them-Disk One and Disk Two; the only leverage he had that could save his family!

“Talley!”

Talley jerked at the voice, then saw that Martin was standing in the door. Her helmet was cinched tight and her pistol was at her side.

“Did you find them?”

He joined her. The smoke was heavier now. Talley saw flames at the end of the hall.

“Where’s Jones?”

“They’re tearing up the office. They haven’t found the disks.”

“The boy had them in his room.”

Talley showed her the disks. He wanted to find a way out without seeing Jones and started for the stairs. Martin grabbed his arm. She brought up her gun.

“Give them to me.”

He was startled by her tone. He glanced at the gun, then saw that Martin was watching him with anxious eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“Give me the disks.”

He glanced at the gun again, and knew with certainty that Benza owned her.

Talley shook his head.

“When did they get to you?”

She thumbed off the safety lever.

“Give me the disks, Talley. You’ll get your family.”

He knew that he wouldn’t. He knew that once Benza was safe, anyone who knew anything about Smith’s relationship to Sonny Benza would die.

Talley stepped back, holding the disks at his side. Once she had the disks she would kill him. It would be easier that way.

“Where’s Jones?”

“Still downstairs. He doesn’t even know.”

“What are you going to do, Martin? Tell them I was shot in the confusion? You going to blame Krupchek and Rooney?”

“If I have to.”

“How much are they paying you?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” She raised the gun higher.

“Now give me the disks.”

The flames crept up the stairwell at the end of the hall. Talley saw their twisting red glow through the smoke, and something moving in the glow.

“Give me the disks, Talley. It’s the only way to get out of this alive.”

A shadow lifted itself from the floor.

“Rooney’s alive.”

Her eyes flicked once to the side, then came back to him. She didn’t believe him.

“Give me the disks!”

Dennis Rooney lurched into the light, eyes glassy and dripping with blood. He had found his gun.

“Martin!”

She turned, but not in time. Rooney fired before she could swing her gun to him. Something hard slapped Talley in the chest. The next bullet caught Martin in the thigh, and the third in the cheek beneath her right eye.