James Grippando - Born to Run

“FBI Agent Andie Henning,” she said.

Andie watched on-screen as he lowered the phone and shouted across the set.

“Hey, Swyteck. You’re not gonna believe this. I got your girlfriend on the line.”

Back in the command center, Figueroa made a face. “Girlfriend?”

Andie shushed him, then spoke into the phone. “Demetri, I want to talk to you.”

“Go right ahead,” he said.

“I think it would be best not to share our conversations with the television viewers. This should be between us.”

“Sorry, nothing’s off the air. You got something to say, just say it.”

“All right. We can do this your way. But you know how this works, right? If I give you something, you give me a little something, too.”

“I don’t have time for your games.”

“Don’t hang up,” she said, catching him just before he did. She watched him carefully on the screen, and he was awfully close to ending the call. It was time to change the subject.

“Are you guys getting hungry in there?” she said.

He laughed. It was totally forced, like a bad actor all too aware that the camera was rolling. Then he lowered the phone, looked into the camera, and spoke to the television audience.

“The FBI wants to know if I’m hungry. If I say yes, she’ll probably offer to send us a sack of Big Macs or Whoppers. We call that product placement. All the reality shows do it.”

Andie and her boss exchanged glances. A sense of humor could be a good sign. A man about to pull the trigger didn’t usually crack jokes. But you never knew for sure.

“Demetri, talk to me,” said Andie.

“No, we don’t want any food,” he said into the phone. “I just want my five hundred thousand dollars.”

Andie had to handle this one carefully. She never promised anything she couldn’t deliver. “I’m working on that,” she said.

“You better work hard.”

“You have to understand that I’m getting resistance on that. It would help if you showed us some goodwill by letting one of the hostages go.”

“Get me my money and they all can go.”

“Taking the hard line isn’t going to do any of us any good, Demetri. I can’t help you if you won’t show us that you’re willing to work this out.”

“I’m not letting anyone go a minute before I get my money.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but let me be straight with you. This is not a threat. All I’m trying to do is give you an accurate picture of what you’re up against. The police have surrounded the entire building. The FBI is here. Miami-Dade Police Department is here, too. They have shut down the entire area. It’s going to be really difficult for you to escape with or without your money. So let’s make a deal here and now, all right? You let one of the hostages go, and I’ll tell the boys in the SWAT van to back off. We cool with that?”

Demetri didn’t answer. Andie saw that as a good sign. Immediate rejection punctuated with profanity would have been a bad sign.

Andie said, “You just take a deep breath and think about letting one of those hostages go. It would count for a lot if you did, Demetri. A little goodwill goes a long way.”

“Who the hell are you to be talking about goodwill?”

The sudden change of tone took Andie aback. “Take it easy, Demetri.”

“No, you just shut up and listen to me. I know it was you who tried to set me up when your boyfriend went to the Smithsonian. I watched the whole thing go down. I saw you come running out to get Swyteck on the museum steps. I know who you are, and I know you’re a liar.”

“Things are going to be handled different this time.”

“No they aren’t. You are no different from any cop I’ve ever met. You will lie to get whatever you want.”

The mood swing was startling. Despite that brief display of humor at the top of the phone call, Demetri was obviously starting to feel the pressure.

Andie said, “I won’t lie to you.”

“Like hell you won’t. Liars always lie. And you are a fucking liar!”

“Demetri, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m in control here, not you. Just get me my money, and stop stalling.”

“I’ll call you in an hour.”

“Don’t. Just don’t -unless you’re calling to tell me you got my money.”

“Let’s work this out together. You’ve got two hostages. Why not let one go?”

“I ain’t letting nobody go.”

“Demetri, listen to me. Let one of the hostages go. You don’t need three. You only need one.”

“That’s exactly right. All I need is one. So get me my money, or somebody’s gonna die-live on television.”

Demetri hung up.

Andie breathed deep and let it out.

“You okay?” said Schwartz.

Andie felt her hand shaking just a bit as she put the phone down. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Figueroa said, “It’s time to consider a breach.”

“No,” said Andie.

“He’s this close to snapping. Can’t you hear it in his voice?”

“It’s his accent. Greek uses a narrower pitch range than English, and to our ear, he can sound angrier than he really is.”

“How do you know that?” said Schwartz.

She’d learned it while watching the 2004 Summer Olympics from Athens on TV, but that wouldn’t have impressed anyone. “I just know these things,” she said. “Just like it’s time to work something out with the money.”

Figueroa said, “The director has made MDPD’s position on this crystal clear: We don’t give money to hostage takers. Period.”

“Why not, if it gets the hostages released? We have two SWAT teams here. He isn’t going to leave the building with it.”

Figueroa said, “We can’t let the entire television world see us hand over a half million dollars in exchange for three hostages.”

Andie looked at her boss. Schwartz said, “He has a point there, Andie. We don’t want copycats across the country.”

“Use marked bills. That won’t encourage copycats.”

“It just won’t work,” said Figueroa.

“We have to try ,” said Andie. “He’s already killed a security guard, at least one and maybe two Russian mobsters, and two sisters in Washington. He has absolutely nothing to lose by killing again. If we can get the hostages out of there in exchange for a suitcase full of marked bills, I say that’s a good deal.”

Figueroa looked as if he were going to explode. “You think maybe your judgment is clouded because your boyfriend is one of the hostages inside? The FBI conveniently failed to mention that little detail to me.”

“Nothing is clouding my judgment,” said Andie.

“If you think that, I say you’re out of your mind.”

“I say it isn’t your call,” said Andie.

His eyes were like lasers.

“We’ll see about that,” he said.

Figueroa turned on his heel and slammed the door on his way out.

“Swyteck, get over here,” said Demetri.

Jack was sitting alone on the floor in front of the news desk. Shannon had talked Demetri into letting her use the nearest bathroom, which was just off the back of the set. Two untied hostages-the anchor woman and the cameraman-were clearly making Demetri edgy, not to mention the constant threat of SWAT bursting into the newsroom at any moment. He stood by the weather-forecast green screen, where he could keep one eye on the barricaded entrance to the newsroom and the other on the bathroom door behind the set.

“What do you want?” said Jack.

“I said come here.”

Jack climbed to his feet and walked to the back of the set. Demetri had been extremely quiet since his last performance in front of the camera, and as 2:00 A.M. approached, he was looking tired. He’d been mumbling about his back hurting until he found a first-aid kit with some pain reliever inside. The red box was sitting on the news desk. Jack wondered if there was a pair of scissors or maybe a knife inside.