Lisa Black: Takeover

Maybe not. “How are you picking up this video?”

“Streaming Internet link,” Jason said.

“This is being broadcast over the Internet ?” The Fed VP was clearly horrified.

“It’s triple-password-protected, and all three will be changed as soon as this is over. Don’t worry.”

The librarian spoke up again. “We have wireless Internet connections all over this building. Will that interfere?”

“No. It’s on the same server, but it’s a secure link.”

Theresa’s head swam. We have bad guys with guns, and they’re discussing the intricacies of modern communication.

“Don’t be afraid, Theresa.”

It took her brain a moment to realize that Cavanaugh had spoken to her, and it shocked her gaze away from the TV monitor. “What?”

“I said, don’t be afraid.” The smirk had left. His dark eyes appeared somber, and for a moment her soul felt the fleeting touch of comfort. Maybe he really was all that they said he was. Maybe Paul would be fine. “We’ll get him out of there. I’m guessing these guys have figured out that they’ve shut themselves in a box and are already praying for a way to open it. With luck we’ll be out of here by lunchtime. There’s just one thing, though. I need you to leave.”

This must be what it felt like to be sucker-punched. “What?”

“I can’t have emotional people in here. I need to concentrate on the hostage takers and on them alone, if I’m going to get Paul out of there.” His voice remained calm, hypnotic, and if she didn’t take care, she’d find herself agreeing. “I can’t have your reactions distracting me.”

“I won’t react.”

“Theresa-”

“No, I mean it,” she insisted, unable to stop the babbling undercurrent from her words. “I was married for fifteen years. I learned how not to react, believe me.”

“Theresa-”

“I’m sure Jack Sabian would want me to stay.”

The weight of his ambitions slowed him, but only for a moment. “I’m the conduit to the guys holding a gun on Paul, Theresa. You don’t really want me distracted, do you?”

He had a point. But she kept her gaze steady, the way she did with defense attorneys and Rachael’s band director. “You need me. I’ve been closer to them than you have. I may have inspected their handiwork this morning. I’ve sat in their car. I know who drove, and that he likes cinnamon Tic Tacs and country music. I need to be here.” Theresa turned back to the television monitor, as if this ended the discussion. Hah. She should win all arguments so easily.

From the corner of her eye, she watched him watching her, until a shuffling sound of collective movement erupted from the staff offices in the next section. Apparently the power discussion had been concluded and a decision reached.

To her surprise and intense relief, Cavanaugh said, “All right. But consider yourself on probation. Now let’s get this party started.” He reached for the handset.

Theresa clapped her palm down on his wrist. “Wait.”

9:10 A.M.

Paul’s body tensed, waiting for the shot. Nothing. Just the woman’s scream, cut off. Then Bobby’s voice, raised and peremptory. Then footsteps over the polished marble tiles.

He turned his head to see two more hostages join them. Three- one of the two women carried a small boy. He had huge eyes and clung to his mother, and Paul recognized him from a photo seen just that morning, in a dead man’s house.

“They were hiding under a desk,” Bobby reported to his partner.

The tall robber barely glanced at them. “On the floor. Anyone else?”

“Negative.”

“Take care of that door.”

Bobby headed toward the north wall of the lobby. The tall robber kept his gun aimed at the three security guards and the dog. The two women sank into a sitting position, aligned in a row with the other hostages. The little boy didn’t make a sound, simply clutched a small stuffed animal to his face. His mother dropped her oversize handbag beside her to put both arms around him, all without taking her eyes from the robber-or perhaps his gun.

So this was what was left of the Ludlow family. The woman almost certainly didn’t know that her husband was dead and must have come here looking for him. She hadn’t been home since early in the morning, at a minimum, or else how could she miss a corpse on her front step? Where had she been?

And now the hostages included a baby. This had gone from bad to worse.

Bobby returned. “I used a shelf to wedge that door. I don’t know how long it will hold. They’d be nuts to come in there anyway- we’d see them long before they’d reach us.”

“I don’t want them even tempted. You’d better hang out in this half of the lobby and keep these people between you and that door and that hallway, in case they decide to come in all commando-like.”

Bobby zipped quickly past the vulnerable center section. “What about the elevators?”

“They probably turned them off. But if you hear a ‘ding,’ dive for cover and come up shooting.”

“Now what?”

“Get the tie-wraps.”

Bobby laid aside the automatic rifle to dig in his duffel bag. Dust motes danced in the sunbeam above him as it slanted down from the high windows.

“You, in the pink,” the tall robber said to the woman next to Paul. “Stand up.”

The young woman trembled.

Should I stop this? Paul wondered. Bobby had the gun back in his hand.

“Come on, get up. I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to borrow you for a minute. Now turn around. I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, like this. That’s all you have to do. Now you three.” He nodded at the three security guards, who knelt in a line between the rest of the hostages and the two new women. “Now that Bobby has relieved you of your weapons, he’s going to cuff you to the teller cages there. Don’t get nervous. No one’s going to get hurt as long as you do what I say.”

The three young men gazed at him, and Paul could see them working out various methods of attack in their minds. They had been trained for exactly this-which was no doubt why this guy had to neutralize them.

“But if you try to rush me, this girl- What’s your name, sugar?”

It came out in a whisper. “Missy.”

“That’s a pretty name. Missy here is going to stay between me and you three. And if you get in a scuffle with my partner, the next sound you will hear is Missy’s guts spattering all over these other folks. On the other hand, if you come along real nice, Bobby won’t make the cuffs too tight. We’ll take some money, and then we’ll leave, and everyone, even Missy, gets to keep their guts. Do we understand each other?”

Silence.

“I asked if we understand each other.”

The three nodded, one at a time, ever so slightly.

“Okay. You with the dog. Take him with you and tie-wrap the leash to the cage. Make it secure. If he gets loose, I will be able to shoot him before he ever makes it to me.”

Paul watched as Bobby and each guard moved slowly, carefully, down the iron grillwork wall to the south end of the lobby. The metal bars made a handy thing to tie people to and appeared as solidly constructed as the rest of the building. From there the guards faced the savings-bond teller cages and the opaque windows hiding East Sixth Street from view. Missy, her brown eyes seething with both fear and anger, didn’t seem to breathe at all. Paul thought of the gun at his hip. What should he do with it?

It occurred to him that he had to live. He had a wedding to attend. Theresa would not forgive him if he missed it.

He shifted slightly, as if his legs were getting stiff-which they were. The tall robber’s eyes flicked to him, watched for a moment. It could have been a trick of the light on the sunglasses, but Paul didn’t think so. The man’s finger only had to twitch against the trigger of that M4 carbine he held and Missy would be cut in half before Paul could blink.