Cries in the Night (8 page)

“
Yes, of course you may, dearie.
”

“Sandy, I’m sure all those things can be taken care of long distance. Why don’t I drop by this evening and see if I can help you get organized.”

Sandy sniffled. “
That would be really nice of you. But you don’t have to.
”

“I’ll be leaving here around five. Would five-thirty be good for you?”

“
Yes, that would be perfect.
” Already there was a little lift in her tone. “
I’ll make us some cookies. Do you like chocolate chip?
”

“Of course. Who doesn’t like chocolate chip?” Julie assured her. “I’ll see you soon.”

“
I’m looking forward to it. Goodbye.
”

“Goodbye, Sandy.”

Julie hung up the receiver and jotted notes on the bottom of the call sheet. She’d do what she could to help Sandy make sure her bills were paid on time and, depending on the circumstances, see if a trip could be arranged. From the notes on the call sheet, Sandy and Frank had been married almost forty years. Being all alone for the first time in that many years would take a big adjustment. There was nothing like a few weeks with the grandkids to welcome a little peace and quiet back home.

Later that evening as she was driving home after her visit with Mrs. Johnson, Julie was smiling. She hadn’t expected to stay but a half hour or so, but her visit had stretched to over three hours. She had been able to help Sandy set up a schedule and automatic bill pay for most of her bills and showed her how to forward the rest of her bills to her daughter’s house. But mostly, she had listened to Sandy’s stories about what a wonderful husband and father Frank had been. There had been a tour of the photo wall and descriptions of who everyone was and what they had been doing at the split second the shutter snapped. There had been tears and laughter and hugs when she was leaving. Sandy promised to consider taking the trip to Omaha and Julie told her she would stop by early next week just to see if Sandy needed anything else.

The garage door shut behind her as she inserted her key into the lock. Cat twined around her ankles, anxious to get inside and have dinner. Julie wasn’t really hungry. The chocolate chip cookies had been good, and she even let Sandy warm up some leftovers for them to eat because Julie knew how often someone recovering from the loss of a loved one didn’t care about eating … alone. At least she knew Sandy had eaten one good meal that day.

After hanging up her coat, she opened a can of cat food and dumped it in Cat’s bowl. It looked and smelled disgusting, so she got a fork and separated the gelatinous fish into chunks, making it look a little more appealing. Cat didn’t care one way or the other and dug in with his usual appetite as soon as she placed the bowl on the floor. Julie got a glass of ice water and went into the living room, making sure all the curtains were closed as she went. She picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.

“
We’re live at the scene. We don’t have anything new to report, but if you’re just joining us, two firefighters have been taken hostage and are being held inside the house behind me.
”

Julie whirled around and stared at the familiar blond reporter as she stood across the street from a small brown house that was bathed in spotlights. Police cars, fire trucks, ambulances and armored vehicles filled the rest of the screen. The woman continued, “
SWAT is on standby, but the resident has said if anyone approaches the house, he has booby-trapped all of the entrances and has several bombs he will set off. The police are waiting for the hostage negotiation team to arrive. The names of the firefighters have not been released. We’ll pass on any more information as soon as we get it. And now back to your regular programming.
”

Rusty.

They hadn’t mentioned his name, but Julie just knew he was one of them. She stared at her cell phone as if challenging it to ring. She wanted to be there, even though she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do. Apparently, there was nothing anyone could do. Except wait.

Julie’s gaze flickered around the room. There was no way she would be able to sit and pretend to watch some silly sitcom when there were lives at risk. Not just any lives, but two firefighters who had gone there to put out a fire, not be taken captive by a psycho.

She needed to know more, and she couldn’t wait for that ditsy reporter to come back and toss pieces of information out between commercials. Julie went into the bedroom and hurriedly changed into jeans, heavy socks and a thick sweater. She pulled on her coat and checked the pockets for gloves, then added a scarf and a wool stocking cap. Without bothering to turn off the TV or the lights, she locked the back door and waited impatiently for the garage door to open. Within minutes, she had parked several blocks from the hostage house, behind the dozens of emergency vehicles and local news vans.

A group of cops stood off to one side, and she made her way through the crowd of reporters and onlookers to reach them. She saw that Sam was one of them, which didn’t necessarily mean Rusty was one of the hostages. He could be here just because he was on-shift.

“Hey Julie,” Don greeted her. “Did they call you already?”

“No, I just heard it on TV. What happened?”

Don shook his head. “No one knows what’s going on inside, but apparently, this guy called in a fire report and when the truck arrived, he let them in, then … well, it gets sort of hazy from there. We just know that he’s holding them
and threatening to blow up the whole neighborhood. We’ve evacuated all the houses in a three block radius just in case that nutcase really does have a bomb.”

“So who went in?”

“Oh, you mean the hostages?” When she nodded, he continued, “Some rookie named Jason Lewis and Sam’s brother Rusty.”

Rusty. She sighed. Oh, and Jason, she quickly added. She had met him on a job a couple of weeks ago, and he had impressed her with his enthusiasm. But she couldn’t keep from thinking it was a good thing that Rusty, a seasoned veteran, was there with Jason. She didn’t know Rusty all that well, but she sensed that if anyone could talk his way out of a bad situation, it would be him.

 

Rusty hadn’t seen it coming. As usual, he had entered the house in full gear and carrying a hatchet. The man had been standing on the front porch, looking nervous and upset, all perfectly normal reactions from a person whose house is on fire. Once in the living room, Rusty had stopped so quickly that Jason, only a couple of steps behind had run into his back. “Sir, please stay outside while we go through the house. Did you see flames or smell gas?

“Nope.” The man, who had followed them inside, shut the door and calmly slid the bolts on a half dozen locks.

“What the fuck?” Rusty asked, his gaze falling on a dozen two liter bottles of clear liquid placed around the room. He couldn’t tell exactly what they were, but each had a timer and a separate compartment with another liquid in it. Also taped to the bottles were tin cans. Rusty couldn’t see inside them, but he guessed they were filled with nails, screws, ball bearings or something else that would rip through flesh and walls and anything in its path. Rusty was certainly no expert, but he knew he was looking at enough homemade bombs to blow the entire block off the map.

He had taken a few classes on bombs, but more along the lines of how to put out the fires they caused or minimize the damage and not how to keep them from going off. The thing that had made the biggest impression on him from the class was that most bombs weren’t stable or predictable, and definitely not something he wanted to be sharing a space with.

“So there’s no fire?” Jason asked, not quite comprehending the situation.

“Not yet,” the man said. “But there’ll be an epic blast if you guys don’t help me.”

“Help you how?” Rusty asked, focusing on the man while covertly trying to survey the room and assess the situation. The more he saw, the more concerned he became. This was no spontaneous idea. All the windows had been boarded up from the inside and the doors blocked by furniture. Like a spider with a web, the man had been waiting for his victims to be lured to his web. But why?

“Call your captain and tell him to keep everyone back,” the man instructed.

Rusty again eyed the bombs as he keyed in his radio, then spoke into it.
“No fire, just a shitload of bombs. Clear the area and stay back.”

The captain quickly answered,
“What’s the plan?”

“Not sure. We’re okay for now.”

“10-4.”

Rusty looked back at the man who nodded.

“They’ll listen to me now,” the man said with a satisfied smile. “I just had to get their attention.”

“Who?”

“The government. Obama. Congress. All of those fuckers that are screwing up this country. I’m sick of them sticking their noses in my life. I’ve worked hard all my life. I’ve paid money into my retirement. And now it’s all gone. I lost my job and nobody’s hiring. My 401K is drained. My unemployment has run out. I’m losing my house. My whole life’s gone to shit.”

“Things have been bad for everyone,” Rusty tried to find a point of agreement from which they could build.

“Not you,” the man challenged. “You’ve got a job. And health care. And retirement. And probably a hot wife waiting for you at home.”

“Actually, no wife …”

“Shut the fuck up,” the man yelled. “I know how women are about firefighters. Hell, my wife ran off with one.”

Rusty couldn’t really counter that one.

The man started pacing, his voice getting more agitated with every step. “I’ve got nothing. You’ve got everything. It’s not fair … but I’m making it right.”

A piercing alarm went off and the man pressed his hands against his ears and whirled around. “What the hell is that?”

Rusty and Jason both wiggled their asses and the alarm quieted. “If we don’t move for thirty seconds, it goes off so we can be found if we’re trapped or unconscious.”

“Don’t let it go off again,” the man screamed.

Since they were difficult to reach, especially when they were in full uniform, Rusty moved behind Jason and turned off the personal alarm security system unit that was attached to his air tank, then let Jason do the same for him.

The man picked up a package of long tie wraps and tossed it to Jason.

“Kid, use this on your partner’s hands,” the man ordered.

“Why don’t you just let us walk out of here before anyone gets hurt? You know they ’re going to surround this place,” Rusty pointed out, hoping his voice sounded calmer than he felt.

“I’m counting on that,” the man said calmly. He waved his hands as if beckoning for everyone to come forward.

The plan was chilling. Timing was going to be critical. If Rusty jumped him now, the man could trigger the bombs and dozens, possibly hundreds of people could be injured or killed. There were innocent people in houses all around this one, sitting down to dinner or homework or watching TV. Outside on the lawn the fire crews and paramedics were waiting for him to report back. They were likely close enough to be killed immediately.

As much as Rusty was tempted to just take his chances at disarming the man, he couldn’t risk all his friends, co-workers and unsuspecting citizens. If the situation was handled as he knew it would be, within an hour after his captain knew what was going on inside the house the entire area would be evacuated. Of course, by then the police, SWAT team and the ATF would be involved. A later detonation would likely take out many of them … emergency responders like himself who were just doing their jobs and trying to protect the public, but at least the citizens should be out of harm’s way.

“What’s your end game plan?” Rusty asked the man, both stalling and trying to distract him from tying them up.

“Talk less, listen more. Put your hands together,” the man’s comment was more of a command than a suggestion.

“It’s pretty hot in here. Can we take off our coats and air packs?” Rusty asked.

“Suffer.” The man was clearly not sympathetic.

Jason looked at the tie wraps in his hand, then up at Rusty, silently asking what he should do. The man noticed and pulled a remote control out of his pocket.

“We can end this right now if you want,” the man offered. “But I’d rather wait until everyone gets here. I want to take out as many of you government shits as possible.”