Steven James - Opening Moves

I edged in, let the door close behind me. “I heard about Tod. I’m sorry.”

He eyed me. “You’re limping.”

“I got him. The killer. The guy from Ohio and Illinois.”

“Basque?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes were on my leg. “Did he shoot you?”

“Yes,” I told him honestly. I didn’t clarify that it was in the shoulder. “Listen, Radar, I’m unarmed. You can lower your weapon.”

He didn’t. But he didn’t pat me down either. He believed me.

He waved the gun toward the bank’s office. It had a glass wall that offered a view of the lobby, and I imagined he wanted to go in there so we could talk privately, but also so he could keep an eye on the hostages.

We entered, he closed the door and told me to stand on the other side of the desk. As I angled across the room, he kept the gun trained on me, then ran a hand through his hair. “He’s gonna kill Tod, Pat.”

“As far as we know, he hasn’t killed anyone. Basque was the one who-”

“No.” Radar shook his head. “You don’t get it. I talked to him a few minutes ago. This time he’s serious. He’s gonna do it. He told me what his father made him do to people he brought to their barn when he was a kid. He wasn’t making it up, Pat. I could tell.” He smiled oddly and I could see that Ralph had been right: Radar was losing it. “Gut instincts. Intuition. Remember? That’s me.”

“Calm down for a sec. Think this through. How did he get that package to you at HQ?”

“Dropped it off in the lobby. No one noticed him.”

“Ralph said he called you Radar, and we know he entered the department without being questioned about why he was there. Do you have any idea who he could be?”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t recognize his voice. It’s gotta be someone on the force. He said he’s gonna be watching.”

I tried to think of who in the department fit Colleen’s description of her abductor. A few people came to mind, but then I realized I needed to be mentally here, in this moment, helping talk Radar down. I could figure out who the kidnapper was once I didn’t have a gun aimed at me.

However, as hard as I tried, thoughts of the kidnapper’s demands, his crimes, his acts, his choice of locations, refused to leave me alone.

The alley…the hardware store…the bank…

No, no, no. It wasn’t just the locations we were talking about.

It was the victims too.

Konerak Sinthasomphone for Dahmer.

Bernice Worden for Gein.

And now Captain James Lutz for the Oswalds…

I looked through the glass window at the hostages lying on the floor in the bank lobby. “It wasn’t just the bank, was it? That’s not what he wants?”

“No.” Radar’s voice cracked.

“Tie the stories together. His and the Oswalds’. That’s the way it ends, isn’t it? That’s why he wanted the media here. He wants you to kill a cop, just like they killed Lutz.”

He had tears in his eyes. He nodded.

It was hard to get the next question out, but the answer might help us narrow things down. “Did he ask for me by name?”

Radar shook his head. “I chose you. Because you’re my partner, because I knew you’d understand.”

I thought of what the kidnapper had done to Colleen Hayes, what he’d been in the process of doing to Adele Westin when Ralph and I arrived in the train yard. He was escalating and I didn’t even want to think about what he might have in mind for Radar’s son.

I didn’t doubt for a second that he would do terrible, terrible things to the boy if his demands were not met.

Using my good arm, I reached for the zipper.

Radar leveled the gun at me. “Don’t move, Pat!”

“I’m unarmed, Radar. And if you’re going to kill me, you don’t need to worry about me taking off this jacket.”

He was breathing rapidly, his hand shaking. Logic wasn’t in play here, emotion was. And that’s what was going to determine everything.

“I have body armor on,” I told him. “I’m going to take it off, okay? That’s all.”

“Why?” He was obviously scared, desperate, and not thinking clearly. And he had a gun-a very bad combination.

“Just relax, Radar.” I was able to keep my voice reasonably steady, but my heart was jackhammering in my chest, my thoughts whipping and twisting around each other. It had happened to me just a handful of times in my life, in those moments when death seemed to be on my heels and I actually had enough time to think about it-contrary to what people tell you, the “fight-or-flight instinct” doesn’t always kick in; instead, you become unnaturally calm. It’s almost frightening how rational you can be. It doesn’t make sense, but a sweep of clarity, of perspective, comes over you.

“I believe you that he’s serious…” I’d lost a lot of blood and I was starting to feel dizzy. I wasn’t sure how long I could stand here. “That he’ll kill Tod unless you do it.”

As awkward and painful as it was, I managed to slide out of the oversized Windbreaker. The vest covered my chest, but Radar could obviously see my blood-soaked sleeve. He stared at me, shocked. “It’s just the shoulder,” I told him. “I’m okay. Do you really believe he’ll let Tod live? If you do what he said?”

“I don’t know. Your shoulder, man, your leg, it’s…I don’t know-but I can’t take the chance.” He was definitely in a bad, bad, place. Confused, terrified, and I wanted so badly to help him, but I also didn’t want to die here today.

I unsnapped the bulletproof vest. Getting it off was not going to be easy or feel very good at all, but-

“Stop, Pat. When I said you’d understand, I meant it.”

I paused with the vest. “I know.”

He didn’t go on right away. “I’m not going to shoot you.” His voice held a deep, unsettling resolve. “I need you.”

“You need me?”

“To be there for Tod and Angie. To help Gayle with-”

“What are you-no, Radar.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “If I shoot you, we’re both gone. I’d be in prison and you’d be-”

“Radar, stop. We’ll find Tod, okay? We just need to-”

“Quiet.”

I wanted to rush him, disarm him, but he was on the other side of the desk and I’d never be able to move quickly enough to get there before he could do it, not with my injured leg.

“You need to show ’em,” he said. “Prove it. That’s what he told me. Take my body outside. Hold it up for the cameras. That’s how it ends. All caught on tape. Just like the Oswalds-”

“Don’t even talk like that, Radar.”

“It’s all gotta be on TV. It’s gotta be live.”

I made a move toward him, but froze when he raised the gun and pointed it at his own chest. “Don’t come any closer, Pat.”

Stop him, Pat. Come on, you have to-

“You tell them I love them,” he said. “That’s why I did it, okay? My kids, Gayle, because-”

An idea came to me. I blurted it out, hoping, praying he would listen and wouldn’t fire.

But he closed his eyes, angled the gun toward his heart.

“Radar, no-!”

Ralph was inside the SWAT van when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver, listened, then announced through the radio to the team, “Do not fire! I repeat, do not fire! Whatever happens, hold your fire! He’s coming out.”

Nods of acknowledgment, but everyone kept their guns trained on the bank’s entrance just the same.

But it didn’t open.

Stillness.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Time stretched thin.

And then the sharp sound of a gunshot rang from inside the building and cracked through the wire-tight surface of the day.

“Hold your fire!” Ralph yelled again.