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48 Hour Lockdown

Page 3

by Carla Cassidy


  Annalise’s heart seemed to stop beating for a wild moment. Evan...? Evan was here? Suddenly her head was filled with sweeping memories...memories of passion and laughter, of love and of loss.

  There had been a time when he’d been the love of her life—her endgame, she thought. He now held her life in his hands. She just hoped he took better care of it than she had with his heart.

  Chapter Two

  The gunfire coming out of the school window definitely had everyone on the outside scrambling for cover, but the good news was somebody had yelled out the window and hopefully that meant the people inside were ready to engage.

  The other good news was all the civilians had been moved away from the scene, and Evan had everything in place that he needed.

  He now held the bullhorn in his hand, although he stood behind a patrol car in case more bullets flew out the window and he needed to take cover.

  He had considered turning off the electricity to the building to make things more uncomfortable for the hostage takers, but ultimately had decided against it considering there were children involved. They had kept the water on for the same reason.

  Right now he was angry—beyond angry—that apparently somebody had been calling the school’s office over and over again and that somebody had not been him, nor had they been working under his direct orders. He had a sneaking suspicion who it had been.

  He turned to Nick, who was standing beside him. “Do me a favor. Find the chief of police and bring him to me.”

  “On it.” Nick left and Evan turned his attention back at the school. The first thing he wanted to address with the hostage takers was the wounded and dead. But he hadn’t had a chance to do anything before shots had been fired out of the window, along with the dire warning about throwing out bodies.

  Regina Sandhurst had been out of town when this all went down, but she was expected to arrive sometime late this afternoon. Hopefully she would have some useful information for them.

  “You wanted to see me?” The police chief’s voice boomed from behind Evan.

  He turned to face him. The chief was definitely beginning to look worse for wear. Lines of exhaustion were etched across his broad forehead, and his uniform was a wrinkled mess. He had a stain on the front of his shirt and what appeared to be crumbs from a pastry on his fingers. Rowan stood just behind him, obviously ready to smooth any ruffled feathers that might—would—occur.

  Rowan knew Evan very well. He didn’t suffer fools gladly and he often didn’t mince words, especially when lives were on the line.

  “Have you been the one calling the school phone over and over again?” Evan asked.

  “Yes. I was hoping to open up a line of conversation,” he replied.

  “They just threatened to throw out a dead child if the ringing doesn’t stop,” Evan replied, and tried to tamp down his anger. “You were working at cross-purposes with me. We can’t do that. Do not interfere without talking to my team first. There can only be one lead in this situation, and right now I’m it.”

  The chief frowned, and it was obvious he didn’t like what Evan had to say. “I’m still the chief of police around here,” he began.

  Rowan placed a hand on the chief’s shoulder. “We certainly respect your position,” she said smoothly. “Our goal is like yours...to get the hostages out safe and sound and the killers behind bars. Agent Duran is highly trained in negotiation, and we need to give him a chance to do his job.”

  The chief grunted and then raked a hand through his hair. “If you’re sure you’ve got this for now, I believe I’ll take off. I’ll go home. It was a long night.”

  It was the man’s way of acquiescing to Evan without losing face. “Hopefully when you get back this will all be over and the hostages will be safe,” Evan replied. Things would definitely go smoother if the chief was off-site and Evan didn’t have to worry about him mucking things up.

  To that end Evan raised the bullhorn to his mouth once again. “I’m talking to the men in the school. Will you tell me who I’m speaking with?”

  “You’re speaking to the man in charge.” A deep voice boomed out one of the broken windows.

  Evan squinted in an effort to get a visual of the person speaking, but the man kept his body just out of sight. Daniel was a skilled sniper, and Evan knew he was already looking for a place to set up where he would have a kill shot if necessary.

  “Give me your name,” Evan yelled back.

  “I’ll tell you when you need to know who I am,” the man yelled back.

  “Okay. Look, I’m sure you didn’t plan on or want to be in the situation you’re in right now. I’d like to understand your position better. Could you tell me why you’re here?”

  “I’m not ready to have a conversation right now.”

  “I’m sure we can work something out here as long as none of the hostages are harmed. Right now I’d like for you to release anyone who needs medical help.” Evan not only wanted anyone who was hurt to be released, but once that was done he needed to get the deceased out of that building.

  “Why don’t you back up all your officers as a show of good faith?” the gruff voice yelled from the window.

  “I’d like to do that for you, but before I do could you let us get to the wounded?” Evan asked.

  “We have nothing to talk about.” Gunfire punctuated the man’s sentence.

  Evan cursed and ducked back behind the patrol car. “At least you got somebody talking to you,” Davis said as he crouched next to Evan.

  “It didn’t do much to move things forward, but it did break the ice.” Evan sighed in frustration. “I really wish we could get a name of the leader inside. With a little information on him, I might know what buttons to push. As it is, I’m working completely blind.”

  Davis clapped him on the back. “You’ll get this right, Evan. You’ve gotten it right a hundred times before.”

  Evan nodded even as his frustration grew. There just wasn’t enough information. The FBI had five negotiation techniques that had more often than not worked for Evan in past situations.

  The first step was to listen to their side of things and make them aware he was listening. Unfortunately, so far they weren’t really talking to Evan.

  The next step was to show empathy, to let them know Evan had an understanding of where they were coming from and how they felt.

  Then it was important to establish a rapport that would get them to start to trust him. Once he’d established that trust, then they could work on the problem together and he’d recommend a course of action.

  Finally, if all those steps were followed, the last step was a behavioral change on their part, a change that would hopefully have them surrender.

  Unfortunately, the process didn’t work well if any of the steps were skipped, and right now he couldn’t even get past the first step.

  “Agent Duran?” He turned at the sound of an unfamiliar female voice. Two older women approached him. “I’m Susan DeKalb and this is Lydia McGraw,” the older of the two began.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Evan said. Taking Susan’s elbow, he walked her back behind the line of fire. “Now, what can I do for you?” He frowned, not liking the fact that the two had gotten past the police officers who were supposed to be keeping unauthorized people out of this area.

  “We’re both teachers and we’re here with another teacher, Candice Winsky. We were wondering what, if anything, we can do to help.”

  “Do you have any idea who the people are who stormed the school?” he asked.

  “None of us have a clue,” Susan said. “We were wondering what you know about this.” She grabbed Evan’s forearm, desperation in her light brown eyes. “Do you know who is inside? Has anyone told you what this is all about?” She dropped her hold on his arm.

  “Not at this point. Has anyone interviewed you all yet?”

&nb
sp; “No, nobody has talked to us about any of this,” Susan replied.

  Once again Evan was struck by how little had been done before his arrival to secure the scene and gather information. “The best thing you can all do right now is stay behind the lines.” He gestured to Nick. “This is Agent Brennan. I’d like him to interview you all. Nick, will you take care of this for me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  As Nick led the women to a van set up specifically for interviews, Evan returned to his position by the patrol car. Not only should all of the teachers be interviewed, but also everyone who worked at the school. He’d just assumed that Chief Cummings had already begun that process, but it was obvious Evan needed to set that up with his own people. He also needed to find out who made deliveries to the school and have those people interviewed. Given that the local law officers probably did little more than handle traffic violations, the current situation was likely more extreme than they had ever handled, and they were understandably in over their heads.

  He turned and stared at the building, gathering his thoughts. He had to get this right. If he screwed this up, people would die. Children were in danger.

  The name of another little girl flew through his head. Maria. A deep, familiar pain ripped through him. She had been his younger sister, and he somehow felt that in saving the children in the school, it might assuage some of the guilt he carried for not being able to save Maria.

  * * *

  HENDRICK MAYNARD SAT in his office at TCD headquarters with his feet up on his desk and his chair reared back. Mounted on the wall straight ahead were half a dozen monitors, and three state-of-the-art computers sat on the desk before him.

  The wall to his left held two large posters, despite being against regulations, of his favorite bands frozen in performance. This little office was his space—his world—and he had to confess he liked to color outside the lines.

  He’d been waiting for something...anything he could get that would help the situation in Pearson. But despite surfing the web all night long, he’d found absolutely nothing useful. Now it was up to Evan to get him something to sink his teeth into, something he could do to help the victims.

  He hated that children were involved. He hated any crimes that were perpetrated against innocent kids. He personally knew what it was like to be a kid and to be helpless in a bad situation. He knew what it was like to look to adults for help and for none to be forthcoming.

  He grabbed the energy drink can on the desk and took a drink. The last thing he wanted to do was fall back into old and painful memories that would help nobody.

  Shifting positions in his chair, he continued to check the monitors for any sign of Evan or any of the other agents in Pearson. He knew they had a mobile van set up there with a computer directly linked to him.

  Unfortunately, the four security cameras on the campus had been destroyed and now weren’t recording anything. He’d checked the images right before they had stopped working, and three of them had shown nothing amiss until they’d malfunctioned. He assumed those cameras had probably been shot out from a distance.

  The fourth camera had shown a black panel van approaching the school’s back door. Before anyone got out of the van, that camera had been shot out, as well.

  During the night another agent had come into the office to spell him, but Hendrick had refused to relinquish his position at the computers. Evan couldn’t take a break, and so neither would Hendrick. He was Evan’s ride or die agent on this particular case.

  Hendrick looked at Evan like the big brother he’d never had. The two men had shared many conversations, deep conversations that had touched on personal things. Evan was the only person with whom Hendrick had shared the true horror of the first ten years of his life. Evan was definitely more like family to him.

  “Hey, how about some lunch? For some reason Director Pembrook thinks you might need to eat,” Will Simpson said as he came into the office. Will worked as a civilian employee for TCD. He carried a tray from the cafeteria with him. “Today’s special is baked pasta with garlic toast and an apple.”

  “Ah, ziti...the food of the gods,” Hendrick replied.

  Will laughed. Hendrick took the tray from him. “Thanks, man.”

  “Anything breaking?” Will asked, and gestured toward the computers.

  “Not a damned thing. I’m thinking about doing my ‘catch a perp’ dance around the room except it requires a good deal of nudity and incense.”

  Will laughed again and shook his head. “Nothing you could do would ever surprise me, Hendrick.”

  “Whatever is good for the cause, man...right?”

  “Right,” Will replied with a wide grin. “I’ll just get out of here and let you eat.”

  Minutes later, as Hendrick ate his meal and kept his eyes on the monitors, he marveled at where his life had taken him. He’d never really thought about being an FBI agent. He’d never thought of being any kind of law enforcement official while growing up.

  When he’d been attending Harvard on a full scholarship, he’d just assumed he’d graduate with a degree in computer sciences and then maybe start his own business.

  But halfway through his junior year, exceeding his teachers’ expectations but bored to death with the curriculum, he’d dropped out.

  He’d had no idea what he was going to do. He’d considered backpacking in Europe for a while, but that felt way too clichéd. He’d finally settled for a job with an IT company.

  For the next three months, he was once again bored out of his mind. He spent his days doing his job and collecting a sizable paycheck, then at night he wrote code for all kinds of programs just to challenge himself.

  When a couple of FBI agents had shown up at his front door late one evening, his first thought was that he was going to be arrested. He sometimes broke through firewalls on the internet. The bigger the company the larger the thrill. He did this just to see if he could, and he’d believed he was busted.

  Instead of arresting him, to his surprise, the FBI had offered him a job. He’d landed at the TCD five years ago when he’d turned twenty-one years old. He’d never looked back.

  He’d immediately felt at home here. He liked and admired the men and women who were his coworkers, but more important he felt like he’d finally found a real purpose in life. He liked using his brain and his skills for all the right reasons. He liked helping the other agents catch the criminals.

  “Come on, Evan,” he whispered toward the blank monitor. “Get me something.”

  * * *

  ONE HOUR BLENDED into another and another as the girls and Annalise remained seated against the wall. Tanya and Emily napped off and on, but Sadie remained wide-awake.

  “Are we going to die?” she whispered to Annalise.

  “No, honey, we’re going to be fine. We just need to be strong right now. Have you heard the man on the loudspeaker outside?” Sadie nodded. “He’ll make sure we’re all okay.”

  Sadie finally settled against Annalise’s side and dozed off. Annalise wished she felt as confident as she hoped her words had sounded to Sadie.

  Evan was a skilled negotiator, but he couldn’t talk rationally and work out some sort of compromise with a madman. Evan was good, but Jacob definitely looked and acted like a crazy person, and his wife Gretchen was even worse.

  Evan had been talking to Jacob over the bullhorn about every fifteen minutes, but Jacob wasn’t responding. He just sat in the chair to the side of the broken window and stared out. Occasionally one of the other men or Gretchen would come in to whisper with Jacob.

  It was after one man left the room that Jacob stood and stretched. “I’m going to leave you alone right now, but if you try to do anything to get away or help the girls escape, I’ll shoot you without hesitation. Got it?” His dark eyes burned into hers.

  She held his cold gaze and nodded. A shudder threatened to work t
hrough her as he stared at her for another long terrifying moment before he finally left the classroom.

  What did he expect her to do? Stuff each of the traumatized girls out of the broken window? That would be far too dangerous. It was possible the children might be mistaken for the killers and hurt or even shot by the phalanx of armed police outside. Besides, she had no idea who might be watching out other school windows and could possibly shoot them all in the back as they tried to run for safety. No, it was far too risky.

  However, with nobody watching them there were two things she needed to do. She wanted to get her phone and try to reach police or someone on the outside, and she needed to check on Belinda.

  The minute Jacob left, she sprang into action. She raced across the room, grabbed her cell phone and hit 911. “I’m a hostage in the Sandhurst School in North Carolina,” she said when the call connected, speaking as quickly and as quietly as she could. “My name is Annalise Taylor, and I’m here with three students in room 106 at the Sandhurst School. We’re being held by a group called the Brotherhood of Jacob. They’ve killed three people and wounded at least one more.” She then gave her phone number and hung up.

  She quickly hung up, replaced her phone, then ran across the room to the doorway. She peeked out. Seeing nobody, and hearing Jacob’s voice coming from another room up the hallway, she raced across to the classroom.

  Belinda Baker, the math teacher, was slumped against the wall, her bloody hands holding a wound in her stomach. Next to her was ten-year-old Amanda Ingraham, another student who looked positively terrified.

  “Belinda—” Annalise fell to the floor next to her fellow teacher “—how bad is it?”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s definitely painful.” The words came in short gasps. “Annalise, you need to take care of Amanda...promise me.”

  “I promise, but I’m going to try to get you out of here so you can get some medical attention.”

  Belinda released a small laugh that transformed into a deep sob. “Good luck with that. They left me in here to die. Do they know you’re in here talking to me?”

 

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