Robert Crais - Hostage

“He calls me. Just like with you.”

Talley’s head throbbed. He told himself to shoot the sonofabitch, put one in his shoulder joint and make him scream. Mikkelson’s voice came from far away.

“Chief?”

The white noise cleared and Talley stepped back from the Zone. He lowered his gun. He wasn’t like them.

Jones glanced away. Talley thought he seemed embarrassed.

“I don’t call him. He calls me, just like with you. That’s how they stay safe. Just hang on to the phone. He’ll call.”

Talley stared at Jones’s phone, then dropped it to the street and crushed it. He had the Nokia, but if it rang, he would not answer it. If the Watchman placed the call, the Watchman would expect him to answer. Talley didn’t want to do what the Watchman expected.

“Put him in a cell with the others.”

Everything seemed like it was ending even before it began. He couldn’t stop now. Once you breached the structure, you pressed on until the end. If you stopped, you died.

Smith would know. They trusted Smith with their closest secrets. It had all come back to Smith again.

“Where are the kids?”

“Cooper has them with the paramedics. They’re okay. We finally got the mother, Chief. She’s flying back from Florida.”

“Tell Cooper to meet me at the hospital. Tell him to bring the children.”

Talley wiped the smoke from his eyes as he looked back at the house. The fire was eating its way through the roof. Tongues of flame lapped beneath the eaves even as silver rainbows of water arced over the house. Talley could smell the fire on his skin and in his clothes. He smelled like a funeral pyre.

KEN SEYMORE

Seymore was trading Adderall for cold dim sum with a news crew from Los Angeles when a string of dull pops snapped from the direction of the house. The Los Angeles remote producer, a skinny kid with a goatee and no life experience, stopped his discourse on news selection as a political vehicle.

“What was that?”

Ken Seymore recognized the sound right away: gunfire.

Seymore knew that Howell hadn’t launched the breach, because Howell would have told him. He trotted to the nearest news van to find out what was happening. The tech there monitored a police scanner tuned to the Sheriff’s tactical frequency.

“You guys get anything on that?”

The tech waved him silent. He listened to the scanner with a bug in his ear, because their news director didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“They called up the fire company. The goddamned house is on fire.”

“What was the shooting?”

“That was gunfire?”

“Hell, yes.”

The tech waved Seymore quiet again and tuned his receiver, working through the frequencies.

“The SWAT team went in. Shit, they got casualties. It sounds like they got the kids. Yeah, the kids are coming out.”

The technician pulled the plug from his ear and shouted for his producer.

A heavy column of smoke rose into the light from the helicopters, and then another string of pops echoed over the neighborhood.

Seymore took out his phone.

GLEN HOWELL

The local stations resumed live coverage because of the fire. Flames lapped from the windows on the left side of the house, but the fire at the rear, back by the pool, was going pretty good. Fire crews hosed the roof and shadows ran along the perimeter, but the aerial shot was so murky that Howell couldn’t tell who was who or what was happening, just that everything was going to hell.

“You sure Jones’s people got hit?”

“They said it was FBI, so it hadda be Jones’s guys. We’re getting this shit off the scanner.”

“They get the disks?”

“I don’t know. It’s happening right now; no one’s talking to us.”

“Why the fuck did they go in?”

“I thought you gave’m the green light.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Hang on a sec; there’s more traffic on the scanner. Okay, they’re saying two FBI agents came out and both kids. The kids are out.”

Howell tried to stay calm.

“Who’s in the fuckin’ house?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Jones still in the goddamned house?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s Talley?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re paid to know, goddamnit. That’s why you’re there.”

Howell broke the connection, then punched in Jones’s number. The phone rang once, then a computer voice came on telling him that the user had left the service area or turned off his phone. Howell called Martin. He let her phone ring fifteen times, and finally hung up.

“Fuck!”

He dialed Talley’s number and listened to the Nokia ring. He let it ring twenty times, and then he snapped his phone shut so hard he thought he might have broken it.

TALLEY

Talley rolled code three all the way to the hospital. He beat Cooper, arriving a few minutes after three A.M. The parking lot was almost deserted; the remaining press camped by the emergency room entrance. Talley parked at the side of the hospital to avoid them, but got out of the car because sitting was difficult. He leaned against the door with his arms crossed, watching the street, then realized he was still wearing the bullet-resistant vest and the radio. He took them off and tossed them into the backseat. He found the Nokia, and dropped it onto the front seat.

The Nokia rang.

Talley hesitated in the door of the car, thinking the Watchman had finally heard about the house. He stared at the ringing phone as if he was hiding from it, as if any movement might draw the Watchman’s eye and the Watchman would somehow know that Talley was there. Talley should have turned the goddamned thing off. He wanted the Watchman to wonder.

Talley felt his chest tighten, and realized that he had stopped breathing. The phone stopped ringing as Cooper turned into the parking lot. Talley took a breath, then raised his hand, but Cooper was already turning toward him.

Talley watched carefully as Thomas and Jennifer got out of Cooper’s car. They looked pale and tired, and their eyes were anxious with apprehension. Talley knew that they might seem fine now in the initial elation of being released, but later there could be nightmares, flashbacks, and other symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. Jennifer reminded him of Amanda all over again. Talley felt himself lifted by such a swell of feeling that he wanted to both cry and hug them, but he only let himself smile.

Jennifer said, “Are we going to see our father?”

“That’s right. Did Officer Cooper tell you about your mother? We spoke with her in Florida. She’s flying back now.”

They beamed. Jennifer actually said, “Yay.”

Talley put out his hand.

“We didn’t really meet before. My name is Jeff Talley.”

“I’m Jennifer Smith. Thank you for what you did.”

She shook his hand firmly, her smile blinding. Thomas shook his hand as if it were serious business. They stood so close together that their arms touched, and both children stood very close to him. He knew that this was normal. He was the man who had saved them.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Thomas. You were a big help. You were very brave. You both were.”

“Thank you, Chief. You’re really dirty.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes, and Cooper laughed.

Talley glanced at his hands. They were streaked with soot and sweat, as was his face.

“I guess I am. I haven’t had time to clean up.”

Jennifer said, “He can be so rude. You should look at yourself, Thomas. You’ve got ash on your nose.”

Thomas rubbed at his nose, but his eyes never left Talley.

“Is our daddy okay?”

“He’s doing better. Let’s go see him.”

Talley brought them through the side entrance. He held their hands, letting go only to badge an orderly who led them through the hospital to the emergency room. Everyone they passed stared at them. Talley knew that it was only a matter of time before word spread to the press that the chief of police had brought the hostage children to their father. When the press knew, the Watchman would know.