Jarkko Sipila - Cold Trail

Turunen took the radio and announced the order to pull back at least a hundred yards from the house.

* * *

Eronen had been manning the gun for twelve minutes when the radio announced that everyone was to retreat to at least a hundred yards. Saarinen was startled awake. The driver of the Pasi heard the command and revved up the vehicle’s diesel engines.

The army sergeant at the wheel confirmed the order with the police officers: “Pull back?”

Eronen looked at the house. There was no movement.

“Yeah, follow the order,” Eronen replied, but at that very moment he saw the back door of the house opened. A man in black pajamas stepped out, or at least that’s what it looked like. He wasn’t wearing shoes. He took a few tentative steps and looked around.

“Stop!” Eronen shouted, and the Pasi, which had just been rolling backwards, shuddered to a halt. Eronen opened the back door and hurled himself out. He was moving fast and slipped on the wet asphalt-his legs were stiff from crouching in the Pasi. He smacked his knee but leapt back up. Saarinen had already made it to his side. Eronen waved at the man who had emerged from the house, who darted toward the policeman.

Eronen glanced at the house. It appeared peaceful. The man in the pajamas came running toward the police officers barefoot. He didn’t have any explosives strapped to him.

Eronen was anxious about the imminent explosion and wondered if they’d make it back to the tank, or whether they should just hit the ground. If he climbed on top of the guy in the pajamas, the protective clothing would shield the other man too. Eronen now recognized him as the chief justice of the Supreme Court. Even though he had said all kinds of crap on TV, he still needed to be protected.

Saarinen was the first one to make it to Fredberg and drag him along, forcing him to move faster. Eronen aimed his weapon at the house just in case Repo decided to come after them. No one did.

“Faster!” Eronen yelled, turning to follow the other two. He caught up to them five yards from the tank, he was running right behind Fredberg. At least Eronen’s gear would protect the judge from any shrapnel.

Eronen and Saarinen tossed Fredberg into the Pasi. The judge yelped as he banged his leg against the edge of the back hatch. Saarinen jumped in, and Eronen followed. The policemen slammed the hatches shut and ordered the sergeant to drive.

Eronen was winded from the exertion, but he switched his ear mic to Talk. The man in the pajamas lay quietly on the floor of the armored vehicle. Saarinen was pointing his automatic weapon at him just in case.

“A man exited the house. Looks like the judge. We’ll bring him to the lead van.”

“Please repeat,” Turunen said.

“A man exited house just as we received the order to retreat. We took him into custody and have him in the vehicle,” Eronen said, taking a closer look at the man’s face. “This is Supreme Court chief justice Fredberg. Identification is positive,” Eronen continued, before turning off his mic.

“Good,” Turunen said. “Everyone pull back. The target informed us that he will detonate soon. You have about 20 seconds.”

* * *

Römpötti was antsy. The morning show was interviewing some local politician about the westward extension of the subway, and it had taken a second call to the producer to get him to interrupt the interview. On screen, the morning host was rapidly repeating the news on the siege.

“Our reporter Sanna Römpötti is at the scene. Sanna, what’s happening there now?”

Römpötti was in the shot for the first two seconds, after which Karhunen shifted the camera to what interested people more.

“The situation has developed dramatically here over the past few minutes. The police have retreated, and the tanks are on the move. According to eye witness accounts, someone exited the house, but those reports are still unconfirmed…”

Römpötti’s sentence was interrupted by an enormous explosion. Flames burst out of the house’s windows, and the roof appeared to jump up a few feet before collapsing. Roof tiles showered down on the soccer field, with the nearest ones coming down fifty feet away. Heavy smoke rose from the corner of the house.

The first one to say anything on the TV broadcast was the Green party politician whose microphone had remained on in the chaos. “Oh my god! How horrible!”

The anchor rapidly took control of the situation, since she didn’t know if Römpötti was okay.

“Viewers, you are watching a live broadcast of the dramatic end to a siege. A convict who escaped prison earlier this week took the chief justice of the Supreme Court hostage, an incident that evidently came to a conclusion in this explosion. We do not know if there are any casualties. Our reporter Sanna Römpötti is on the scene. Sanna, are you all right…? Sanna!”

The explosion had popped Römpötti’s ear drums, and it took a minute before she could hear anything. Karhunen, the cameraman, waved his hand behind the camera, and the stunned Römpötti understood that she should talk now.

“There has been an explosion here. We don’t have any details yet,” Römpötti said in an unnaturally loud voice. “Heavy smoke is rising from the building. Just a moment ago, escaped convict Timo Repo and Supreme Court chief justice Aarno Fredberg were in that house together. We do not have any information on the fate of either. The motivation for the siege was Repo’s potentially wrongful conviction for his wife’s murder. Fredberg was…”

THURSDAY, 8:45 A.M.

HELSINKI POLICE HEADQUARTERS, PASILA

Takamäki was typing up his notes from that morning. He was tired, but it was best to record the chain of events while it was still fresh in his mind. Joutsamo, Kohonen, or the department secretary could transcribe the calls with Repo for the appendix, and Takamäki would still have a chance to edit his text. In any event, multiple parties would be demanding a report.

Skoog burst into Takamäki’s office and started praising him as soon as he walked through the door. “Congratulations!”

Takamäki raised his gaze. “What for?”

“For a goddamned well-handled situation. You had about a zero percent chance of resolving it, but you got the hostage out of there.”

“There are a lot of ways of looking at it. Repo let him go. Fredberg said Repo had spoken about mercy at the door as he let him go. Mercy he wasn’t shown himself.”

“Well, he wouldn’t have let him go if you hadn’t succeeded in influencing his judgment.”

“Hard to say,” Takamäki said, noticing a rare smile on the lips of the stern deputy chief. It didn’t suit his stony face in the least. Maybe that was because even though the mouth was smiling, the eyes were still hard.

“I spoke with Fredberg, and he is truly grateful to the police that the standoff was resolved this way. Even apologized for giving an interview to the press in which he had disparaged the police.”

Takamäki nodded. “I still don’t consider the incident a success. The aim was to resolve it without a single victim.”

“Of course that would have been preferable,” Skoog admitted. “But there’s nothing to complain about either. The hostage survived. That’s the most important thing. At least four officers are going to get a cross of merit for this. Suhonen for saving the wife, Saarinen and Eronen for their last-minute actions, and you for leading the operation.”

Skoog’s praise felt good in a way-and yet it didn’t.

“The press conference is a little over an hour away. You’re going?” Takamäki asked.

“I was thinking I’d attend.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Skoog said. “Several networks are broadcasting it live. You deserve the recognition.”