by Rick Mofina
“No.” Rust shielded his eyes. “Chopper’s landing inthe park west of here.”
Tom Reed appeared before Rust and Sydowski, lookinglike hell.
“Take me with you.”
“What? How did you-?” Sydowski said.
“I was coming to the bus and I overheard. I want togo.”
“Impossible, Tom. I’m sorry,” Rust said. “It’s againstpolicy.”
“I have to know.” He was determined.
“Tom” — Sydowski softened his voice — “stay herewith Ann. She needs you. You can help the others. You should be together.”
“Ann overheard you, too. She wants me to go. We haveto know. Whatever happens. I have to know.”
“We’re sorry, Tom,” Rust said, walking quickly withSydowski to his car. “You will be told the minute we know anything.”
Reed walked with them. He was unrelenting. “I’m theonly one here who has seen Keller, talked with him. Please. I know this man.You could regret not having me there.”
The FBI’s Huey was in sight.
At the car, Rust and Sydowski looked at each other,saying nothing. The helicopter approached, blades whipping, slicing, descendingto the park as the news choppers reluctantly backed off. The press was going tobe out there anyway, Rust figured.
The ground plummeted beneath them and in minutes, Reedwas thundering over the Pacific, sitting knee to knee with FBI SWAT Teamsnipers. Seeing their weapons, their icy faces, and hearing their muted radiochatter, nearly smothered him. Someone passed him a radio with an earpiece sohe could listen, hear clearly the voices of unseen forces. Saviors. Planning arescue from the immaculate blue sky. If it wasn’t too late.
From the chopper, the Pacific seemed a universe ofchanging hues and eternally deceptive whitecaps that were, or were not, boats.How could they ever find anyone down there? His stomach lurched. It was futile.He was peering into an abyss.
Forgive me, Zach. Please forgive me.
Reed’s hands were clasped together as the chopperbanked hard for an immediate northwest heading.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Zach’s eyes adjusted to the dimness under the tarp.
The rumbling hum of the twin Mercuries pushing theboat, which leaped and skipped over the water’s surface, was deafening, rattlinghim alert.
That rotten taste was in his mouth again. His headhurt, his leg was throbbing, and he was hungry. Danny and Gabrielle were lyingon the deck with him, stirring, as the vibrations shook their bodies.
The boat was moving fast.
Ouch — something was sticking him in the groin — what?He reached into his underpants, remembering his pocketknife. He still had it.He tightened his fingers around it. Okay, he sniffed, don’t sit up, just take alook around, see what’s going on. What’s that? He looked down at what wascausing the painful pressure on his lower leg.
Heavy, yellow plastic rope was tied around his ankleand encased in a cast of silver duct tape. Zach followed the rope. It wascoiled in a nearby bundle, knotted and heavily taped to four cement cinderblocks. Danny and Gabrielle? It was the same with them; rope and tape aroundtheir ankles, tied to the blocks. Another line ran from the bundle away fromthe tarp. Holding his breath, Zack lifted the tarp slightly, following the linealong the deck to the front of the boat where it ended in a taped knot aroundthe creep’s ankle.
They were all connected. What was it for? Zachstruggled to understand. Suddenly, it hit him, harder than anything in hislife: The creep was going to kill them all!
Zach wanted his dad. Where was he? Don’t scream! Wherewere the police? Didn’t anyone care? Don’t move! Aren’t they looking for us?Think! Just think! Where are we going? Think! C’mon! He rubbed tears from hiseyes and felt — the knife! Yes! He felt the knife in his hand. Okay. He coulddo something.
He shifted closer to the rope and opened the blade. Itshrank next to the diameter of the heavy rope, like a steak knife against anoak tree. He sniffled and began sawing away. The tiny blade was sharp and cutinto the rope, but it was going to take forever. Damn! He might not have timeto cut Danny and Gabrielle free. He concentrated. He could stab the creep. No.The blade was too small. Panic washed over him. Think, Zach! Think!
Cut the rope and jump out? He could swim. For howlong? What about sharks? What about Danny and Gabrielle? He didn’t know. Hedidn’t know anything, only that he had to do something quick. If he tried hardenough, he could cut through one piece of rope. Which one? He moved closer tothe bundle, examining the coils. One line connected the cement blocks to thelines wrapped around the children’s ankles. Which one? He double-checked theweb of rope. Okay. Here goes.
He gestured to Danny and Gabrielle to keep still andquiet, then he gripped his knife and began slicing through the yellow rope.
SEVENTY-NINE
From a thousand feet up, through the Coast Guard spotter’s bubble, it looked like ameteor speeding across the heavens, cutting a southwest path across thesparkling sea, leaving a fading trail of white water. Another check through thebinoculars to be certain. Twin outboards. Mercs. Northcraft. Affirmative.
“Air C-351, sighted the craft! Copy?”
“Roger, C-351. Coordinates? Over?”
“Got him running hard at … standby…”
The guard’s C-130 Hercules had locked on to Keller’sboat in the gulf about seven miles off Point Reyes, bearing southwest to theislands at forty-three knots.
Within six minutes, the guard’s rescue chopper, atfive hundred feet, moved in behind the boat, hanging back about a quarter milewhile the cutter Point Brower, with two FBI sniper teams aboard, nowwithin a mile, was coming from the south to intercept.
“We’ve got a visual,” Langford Shaw acknowledged asthe bureau’s Huey, pounding at maximum speed, came up fast taking the lead. Itheld at two hundred yards behind Keller’s boat, stern portside. Altitude: threehundred feet.
Through binoculars, Shaw and his chief observerchecked the suspect and the boat against enhanced photos from the hobby storesecurity camera and the buy and trade magazine.
“Move up another hundred yards,” Shaw told the pilotas he and the observer continued comparing pictures. “It’s Keller,” Shawconcluded. “And that’s the boat. Pull back a hundred.”
“No hostages,” the observer said, “Wait, I see — ”
“Sir,” blurted one of the snipers looking through hisscope, “edge of the tarp at eight o’clock!”
Part of a child’s sneaker was sticking out from underit.
The second FBI helicopter arrived, taking a mirrorpoint to Shaw’s chopper at Keller’s starboard stern. Listening to the radiodispatches, Reed requested and was given a pair of high-powered binoculars.Focusing on the tarp, he glimpsed Zach’s shoe!
His shoe moved. Didn’t it?
“That’s my son’s foot. That’s Zach!”
The sniper team in Reed’s chopper also locked on toKeller his head bouncing in the scope’s cross-hairs.
Why was a rope tied to Keller’s ankle?
A Navy ship? No. Keller saw the markings. U.S. CoastGuard. The cutter appeared out of nowhere a few hundred yards ahead. Turningbroadside. To block him!
“Edward Keller!” His name boomed out — a bullhorn?
He eased up on the throttle.
“FBI, Mr. Keller. Stop your craft now! I repeat, thisis…”
***
‘Movement under the tarp, sir,” a sniper reported toShaw.
“Drop him a line, Fred,” Shaw ordered the negotiator.
The chopper tracked directly above Keller, matchinghis speed.
“Mr. Keller, we’re dropping a phone to you now.”
A line with a padded bag at the end of it was paid outfrom the chopper, landing safely on Keller’s deck. The rope slackened,collapsing on him like netting. Keller shrugged it off, then tossed the baginto the ocean.
The noise was frightening, hurting his ears, but Zachrealized police were trying to save them, and worked even harder at the rope.Gabrielle and Danny watched frozen in fear,
hands over their ears.
Come on! Zach’s fingers and wrist ached as he sawed.
Keller vanished from the sniper’s scopes.
Slamming the throttle down, twin engines growling, theboat veered south, cutting a magnificent white-capped swath as crosswinds sweptthe tarp back revealing everything: the children, the ropes, the cinder blocks.
Shaw’s throat tightened.
“Get on him now! We’re going to take him out! Warnhim, Fred!”
“Mr. Keller, surrender now or you will be fired upon!”
Shaw ordered the sniper teams in both choppers, andthose on the Coast Guard cutter, to lock on Keller. He turned to histhree-member assault team. They would be first in the water for a rescue inadvance of the guard’s chopper.
“Move in everybody! Now! Now! I want him now!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Shaw saw them. Four ofthem! And two more coming in the distance. News helicopters hovering over thescene. He’d be damned if they were going to see dead kids on the fucking news!He went on his intercom to Agent Fred Wheeler.
“Fred, get on the same frequency as the press pilots.Tell them to back off. This airspace is sealed for two miles!”
It was too late. The entire drama was unfolding liveon every U.S. network. The parents of the children watched on TV monitors setup for them by news crews outside Keller’s house in San Francisco. Camerastrained on them provided live reaction.
“Put a warning shot in his quarterdeck,” Shaw ordered.
“I got it,” answered Agent Lyle Bond, a sniper on thesecond chopper with Reed.
“Take it, Lyle, go!” Shaw said.
Bond’s marksmanship scores were in the FBI’s top onepercent. Keller’s boat swayed gently within Bond’s scope as he stayed with him,partners in a tragic ballet, waiting for the precise moment — there it was — Bondsqueezed his trigger.
The round ripped through the deck of Keller’s boatlike a sledgehammer, shattering the hull below, leaving a baseball-sized holeinches from his foot. He began taking on water.
“Mr. Keller stop your craft now!!”
Keller yanked on the throttle, killing the Mercs,stopping the boat, his own hissing wake washing around him, water rushing inthrough the gap in the hull.
The choppers were pounding.
Whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop.
In one smooth motion, Keller tossed Zach overboard,then Gabrielle, then Danny. The long yellow ropes attached to their anklesslithered prettily on the surface.
The children thrashing.
Screaming.
Jaws dropped.
Eyes widened in horror.
Reed watched from the helicopter.
The other parents watched the TV monitors at thehouse.
Fast. It was unfolding too fast.
“My God! I can’t believe this!” one network anchor’svoice broke across the nation.
In a heartbeat, the two FBI helicopters swooped in — takingtheir points starboard and portside — locking on Keller as he muscled thecement blocks overboard.
“Green light! Green!” Shaw ordered. “Take him in theboat!”
Bullets rained on Keller, smashing into the boat, intohim. A round passed through his right thigh, another exploded in his shoulder,a third grazed his skull as he dove into the water, disappearing beneath thesurface.
Zach treaded water rapidly, witnessing the scene,unable to find Danny and Gabrielle. The noise, the surface spray wasoverwhelming. The choppers moved. So close, he can almost touch-
“Help!”
Instantly the blocks jerked violently at his ankle,dragging him under with Danny and Gabrielle … water bubbling, rushing past,filling his ears, mouth … until the tension overcame the point where he hadcut the rope, forcing it to snap, freeing all three children twenty feetbeneath the surface.
***
Keller remained tied to the blocks, plummeting feetfirst, crimson bubbles trailing his descent. Dazed from his wounds, he tiltedhis head, his lungs filling with water, losing time, lost in time as he gazedinto the light. The children were silhouetted against the sun — floating,flying in the resplendent waters
Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus.
Then it happened. As ordained by God.
The sky above, heaven above, blossoming…
Once. Twice. Three times.
Three beings, celestial entities summoned frometernity, each gliding, floating to each child, taking them to their breasts,severing their lines to him … the brilliant yellow rope floating away. Hegrew deeply tired, watching them ascend with the children, to the sun, to God.
He was forgiven.
He was at peace.
EIGHTY
The shakewas strawberry, Zach Reed’s favorite. He sat up in the hospital bed to take itfrom his father.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Zach’s mother continued stroking his hair. She hadnever left his side once the doctors and the psychiatrist finished looking athim. Danny and Gabrielle were across the hall with their parents. Every now andthen, they could be heard laughing, along with the sound of Gabrielle’s cockerspaniel barking.
“The children are fine. They’ve suffered some shock,exhaustion, dehydration,” one of the doctors told Ann and Tom. “We want them toeat. At this stage, pizzas, burgers, shakes, and fries are good medicine.” Hewinked at Zach, adding, “We’ll have them spend the night here resting. Let himsleep naturally when he gets drowsy. And Dr. Martin’s available anytime, ifanybody wants to talk some more.”
The doctor left, closing the door softly.
“Everything’s going to be okay, right?” Zach said.
“Sure, honey.” His mother brushed his cheek.
Zach set his shake aside and bit his lip, worriedabout the fall out for breaking all the rules, for talking to that psycho doof,believing his lies. Still a little juiced from everything, he thought about howcool it was going to be telling Jeff and Gordie about the choppers. But theidea went away. He had almost drowned. He was still frightened. And there werea lot of other things. Things he couldn’t understand. That nice lady doctor,the psychiatrist, Dr. Kate whom Dad knew, said she could help with that whenthey talked some more. She actually knew the creep and promised to answer allthe questions she could. She was smart. Even after their short talk, she seemedto know what was going on with Zach. She didn’t get him wrong. He was happy,but he was still a little scared; scared about his mom, his dad. Everything.Well, Doc Kate wanted him to talk about it with his folks, so here goes: “Imean, I’m sorry about all this mess, for running away from Grandma’s, gettingin that creep’s van. I made a mistake.”
“Oh, sweetie.” His mother crushed him in her arms.
“Zach, it’s not your fault.” His dad smiled. “You didgood, calling me like you did, son. Very good.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No.” Ann touched her eyes with a crumpled tissue.
He stared at his parents. They looked different,older, relieved, like something had been decided.
“So are we going to talk about living together again?”
“I don’t think so.” Ann reached across the bed, takingTom’s hand, fingering his wedding band, looking into his eyes. “I don’t thinkwe need to talk anymore. I think it’s settled.”
“We’re moving back to our house? Together?” Zach said.
“Yes.” Ann smiled.
Zach hugged them.
“Hey,” Reed told him, “we’ll let you in on a secret.The President is going to be calling from the White House later.”
“The President? No way!”
“Come here.” Reed took Zach to the hospital window. TVsatellite trucks and news crews jammed the parking lot below.
“You’re big news, Zach.”
“Awe-Some! Wait ‘til I tell Jeff and Gordie!”
A quick knock on the door. It was SFPD Inspector LindaTurgeon. “Sorry to interrupt. Could I see you, Tom, about your statement?” Shesmiled at Ann and Zach. “How you doin’, sport?”
“Good. G
reat, actually.” He sucked on his shake.
Outside in the hall, Reed and Turgeon talked in aquiet alcove. A news conference with the children, parents, and police was setfor the hospital’s lecture room in ninety minutes. And tomorrow, Reed was to goto the Hall of Justice, to give his statement on the case.
No problem. He took Turgeon’s hand.
“Thank you, everybody, the FBI, the task force. Thankyou.”
“You and Zach helped break this.”
“Where’s Sydowski? I’d like to see him.”
“He wants to see you, too. Downstairs in the coffeeshop.”
Heading downstairs, Reed passed Danny’s andGabrielle’s rooms, smiling at the joy, the relief flooding the hallway.Professor Martin waved at him from Danny’s room. The uniformed officersstanding guard outside grinned at Reed, slapping his back.
Downstairs, he met Molly Wilson coming from the giftshop with balloons. She threw her arms around him, her bracelets chiming.
“Tom! Oh, Tom. I’m so glad it all worked out!”
“Yeah, yeah, me, too.” He stepped back, gazing intoher blue eyes. “Everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”
She smiled her perfect-teeth smile. “That’s good.”
“You here working, Wilson?”
“Yes, but — ” She remembered she had a bouquet ofoversized balloons. “These are for Zach.”
Reed stared at them, then Wilson, saying nothing.Thinking.
“Maybe I’ll just have them sent up,” she said.
“Wait for me here. You can give them to Zachyourself.”
“Sure.”
“And I suppose you would like an exclusive chat withhim?”
“Yes, I would, if it’s alright?”
“Let me talk with Ann. I think it would be fine.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
“Molly, I appreciate what you did back in thenewsroom. Getting Tellwood’s help when I needed it.” Reed turned to leave.