by Nancy Adams
I made it past him, and went on into the stairwell. The one thing I wanted to avoid at all costs was playing Bruce Willis from Die Hard; if I started taking these people out, I was sure the reaction would be to start killing hostages and searching every room. Those scenes look great in movies, but this was reality, and my goal was to save lives, not cost them.
Besides, I'd had to take lives before, in war, and it isn't something you just get used to or do without thinking about it. Every single one eats at you, makes you second-guess yourself; did you really have to kill that man? Was that death truly necessary? I didn't want any more of those haunting me.
My recon of the building had told me three things: First, the people holding the building were not foreigners at all, but Americans, and I suspected they were part of some militia group that wanted to overthrow the government. Second, there were about twenty of them in the building, but Officer Warren had told me that there were four other buildings that had been taken at the same time as this one, and each was occupied by a similar force. Third, every possible exit from this building was covered by someone with a gun, or rigged with a small explosive device that would go off if it were opened.
I didn't see much chance of being a hero and getting everyone out; I couldn't even see a way to get my small group out, and there were only six of them. The hostages numbered well over a hundred and fifty, I was sure. Since I couldn't see a way to get them out, I was trying to find some way to find a way to get cops in, some way to give the SWAT teams access so they could enter the building.
The air handlers for the heating and AC were up on the roof of the building, and some of the duct work went straight up. Its walls were smooth stainless steel, but every four feet there was a junction, a bracket that connect one section of duct to another. By using those as ladder rungs, I was able to slowly climb all the way to the roof, and up to one of the air handlers.
With the power off, the compressors and fans weren't running, so it wasn't hard to bend the fan blades enough to let me climb past them, and then I could see through the grille overhead. There was no one posted on the roof as far as I could tell, and I started to think I'd found a way in. I took out the phone and called Warren.
“Yes?” she answered quickly.
“I've managed to climb up the AC duct all the way to the roof, and from what I can see, it's completely unguarded. If you can get people to it, they can rappel down through the duct all the way to the first or second floors.”
She relayed the message to someone else, and suddenly there was a gruff male voice on the line.
“This is Clayton, SWAT. There are five units on the roof, which one are you in?”
I looked around to get my bearings. “I'm on the northeast corner of the roof. Just to my right is a water reservoir.”
“Okay, I've got it. That may be an excellent spot, young man; there's a building to the east that's a lot higher, and we might be able to get a zip line onto yours from there, without being spotted. Is there any chance you can get out onto the roof and secure a line for us?”
I pushed at the safety grate over the fan, but it was solid as a rock. I looked it over and saw that it was held with some mild bolts, but I'd seen some wrenches in the maintenance room. “It might take me a little time, but I think I can get out there,” I said. “Give me an hour.”
I climbed back down and found what I was looking for, a plain old monkey wrench and a pair of pliers. I slipped them into a pocket and began climbing back up the shaft. It was just about eight thirty, and in the back of my mind was the thought that Katelynn was probably outside somewhere, at that very moment, watching and waiting for me to come out safely. There was nothing I wanted more than to make that wish come true.
At that moment, though, I had work to do, and climbing that shaft wasn't easy. I made it back up to the fan and squeezed past the bent blades again, then sat on them while I began taking the bolts out carefully. Dropping even one of them would probably make enough noise to alert the bad guys that someone was up to something, so each one went into a pocket for safe keeping.
It took me all of the hour I had asked for, but I got the safety grate off and was able to climb out onto the roof. I did a fast recon and confirmed that I was all alone, then checked the maintenance access door. From what I could tell, it was probably rigged to blow, as well, so I left it alone.
I checked the edges of the roof, looking over carefully to be sure I wasn't spotted from somewhere further down. I didn't see any guards outside the building, and the east side seemed completely clear. I called Warren, and she put Lieutenant Clayton back on the line.
“Alright, sir, I've got clear access on the roof for you. The shaft is open, and I'm out on the surface.”
“We see you,” he said. “Here's what I want to do; we're going to toss over a soft bag with a line that will trail out behind it. Try to catch it, if you can, so it won't make a noise hitting the roof. It's dark, so it's not gonna be easy to see, but do the best you can, alright?”
“Send it on, Sir,” I said, then cut off the phone and put it back into my pocket. I stood up and watched the top edge of the neighboring building, and a moment later I saw something come sailing toward me. It was dark, alright, but it was about the size of a beach ball, and I caught it fairly easily.
There was a carbon fiber line trailing from the bag, and on my end it had a snap hook and locking clamp. I found a steel post to hook it to on the west side of the roof, so that it would have enough height on the east side to let men come to a landing as they slid down it, then yanked on it a couple of times to tell whoever was on the other end that it was on belay and ready for tension. A moment later, all the slack was gone, and I stood back.
I heard a whistling sound, and a moment later the first SWAT member landed beside me. He grinned and said, “Man, what a ride!” then stepped away as another man landed beside him. One after another they came in, until I had twelve heavily armed soldier-cops standing on the roof with me.
The last to come across was Clayton, and he shook my hand. “You've done a great job, young man. Why don't you stay up here and out of the line of fire, now?”
I shook my head. “With all due respect, Sir, I've still got a small group down there that I need to get back to before you start your party. If they hear gunfire and I'm not back, they're gonna think it's me getting killed, and I don't want to put them through that.”
Clayton smiled. “Can you rappel?”
“Yes, Sir, I can. Four years Marine Recon, Sir.”
One of the men had carefully lowered a line down the shaft, and they rigged me quickly for the ride. I hooked up and slid down the line to the third floor, then caught myself and got out of the shaft. Clayton had given me fifteen minutes to get to Jim and the others, and let them know what was going on.
I hadn't even gotten out of the shaft when I heard shouting, a hostage using a bullhorn, it sounded like, telling the cops that there was a bomb in the lobby. I guessed that this would be a precursor to making demands, and I wondered if the bad guys had any clue what they had unleashed on themselves, and then I wondered if the announcement would delay what Clayton and his team were there to do. I waited to see what would happen next, sitting on the floor with the rest of the lawyers and the judge.
It was the judge who broke the silence. “If the phone is working now, I'd like to call my husband,” she said softly.
I passed it to her. “I'm not sure if it can call any other local numbers, other than the police number, I mean. They may have it rigged somehow. I haven’t tried any other numbers for a while, now.”
“I know,” she said, “but I want to try.” She dialed a number, but a second later she got a signal that said all circuits were busy, and passed it back. “Oh, well,” she said.
A gun went off a moment later, and there was suddenly a lot of shouting down below us. I didn't think Clayton had even made his move yet, so I was surprised. I went to the door and slipped out, telling Jim to use the same code to le
t me back in.
There was a lot of shouting going on down on the second floor, and I went down the stairwell as quickly as I could without making a lot of noise. I got to the fire door and peeked out, and saw that the people who had been in the hallway were being pushed and prodded by one man with a gun. He was apparently trying to herd them into a room, and some of them were putting up a bit of resistance.
The guy shoving and yelling at them used the butt of his gun to strike a woman, and I moved without thinking about it. I slipped out the door and into the hall, and rushed up behind him just as he raised the butt again and prepared to bring it down on someone's head.
My arm went around his throat and I caught the barrel of his rifle with my other hand, bringing it back sharply to bash into his forehead. It's a silly trick, but effective, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The people inside the room stared at me, and I grinned. “Marines,” I said, and some of them started to cheer, but I shushed them. “I'm stuck in here like you, folks,” I told them, “but rescue is on the way about any second now!”
And that's when all hell broke loose.
I heard a shout at the far end of the room, and another man was looking my way. He held a rifle, and was trying to aim it at me, but people were jostling him and trying to block his aim, and suddenly two men jumped on top of him. His rifle went off, once, and I saw a man fall, but then the whole ground surged onto him and he went to the floor.
I had the rifle I'd taken from the first man, and spun as I heard shouting behind me. It had only taken seconds for the men downstairs to register the sound of a gunshot and send someone to investigate, and three more poured out of the stairwell door. One of them was firing at me as I turned, but his shots went wide, and my training and instincts took over.
I raised the rifle I held and snapped off a shot, and the man fell. The other two behind him dived into a doorway for cover, and I moved in to make sure I'd neutralized the first. He'd fallen in the hall dropped his weapon, another carbine like the one I had in my hand. I rolled him over and saw that my shot had been true; I'd hit him in the forehead, and he was dead. I hooked a foot into the short strap of his rifle and drew it back to me, then bent to pick it up.
Now with one in each hand, I moved back toward the hostages. They had been inspired by my attack on the first of their guards, I realized, and had taken out the second. A man holding the weapon they'd taken from him shoved his way to me, and stuck out a hand.
“Johnny Phillips,” he said, “former Army Ranger. If you're making a stand, I'm in.”
I rolled my eyes. “Johnny, the smartest thing we can do right now is put these weapons down,” I said, doing so as I spoke, laying the two guns I had taken close to my feet. “We're about to have SWAT running loose through the building, and anyone armed will be an instant target.”
His eyes went wide, and his rifle joined mine on the floor.
Only a few moments passed before Clayton and his men were all over the building. I learned later that one of them had actually dived right through some ceiling panels to get to the bomb, disconnected its timer and detonator in only seconds, then used his own body armor to shield it from attempts to set it off with gunfire. It was all over but the paperwork—finally.
Katelynn
Chapter Eleven
My Boyfriend's Back
* * * * *
When we heard gunfire from inside the building, my heart skipped about fifty beats, especially when we saw that the police were ducking and diving for cover. Even the reporters and their helpers around us were diving, but John stood his ground, watching intently.
There were only a few shots, and then everything stopped again. I was just about to breathe again when we heard more guns, and this time there were quite a few.
“SWAT,” John said, and I looked at him. “SWAT team's gone in, somehow, those are heavier weapons than a bunch of militia types would likely be using. What we heard earlier were light guns, and I hear some of those now, but the majority of that racket is high-quality assault weapons, automatic weapons.”
I knew enough about guns to know the difference between a hunting rifle and an assault rifle, but that was about it. I gathered that he was saying the Cavalry had finally arrived, though, and maybe that meant Nate would be back to me sooner.
A thought struck me. “But—how could they get in? I thought everything was blocked? That's what the news said.”
John looked around for a moment, then pointed up to the roof of the building. “They would have had to go in that way,” he said. “Somehow they found a way in that wasn't booby trapped, and I'd just about bet your beau had something to do with that.”
I looked up at the roof, and wondered if he was right. Did Nate find a way in for the SWAT team? It wouldn't surprise me, of course, but there was very little he could do that might. I'd seen him do things that most men would consider impossible, without even getting nervous.
At that moment, though, all I wanted was for him to come back to California with me and get us through this wedding! It had been well over two weeks since our “private little wedding in the woods” and the resulting honeymoon night, and my friend Flo hadn't stopped by to visit, so I was pretty sure there was a little Simmons on the way. If he thought I was going to raise his child alone, he had better think again!
Of course, I'd never believe that he'd run out on me, not willingly. Nate would come through this, and then we'd be married and move into our mansion on the family estate, and raise our children to love God and family and country, and one day we'd grow old together. That's the future I'd seen in his eyes, and Heaven help anyone who tried to take it from me!
There was more gunfire, some of it from up on the second floor, it seemed, but it lasted almost no time at all. John and I looked at one another, and wondered what was going on inside the building, and about then is when the front doors opened and people started running out.
There were a lot of people, and some of them were literally carrying others. John and I pushed past the reporters and cops who were blocking our way, and I got up close enough to watch for Nate, but there was no sign of him, at first. There were just people, dozens, even hundreds of people, pouring out like mice fleeing a cat.
I watched and watched, and when the flood of men and women ended, there was still no sign of Nate or my Dad. I started to have trouble breathing, but John put an arm around me.
“Hold on, Kid,” he said. “Your guy's been helping the cops out, so they've probably got him inside for a debriefing. He'll be out in a few.”
We were standing beside a police van, and a female officer sitting just inside its swung-open doors heard him. “You know something about our inside man?” she asked.
“He's my fiance,” I said without thinking. “We're getting married in another week.”
The woman stared at me for a moment, and then laughed. “Hang on a second, Honey,” she said, and then put a set of headphones on her head and touched buttons on a little console in front of her.
“Mr. Simmons?” she said into a microphone. “Do you have a fiance? Uh-huh, she's right here. Hang on.” She motioned me closer to her, and put the headset onto me.
“Nate?” I said, disbelievingly.
“Hi, Baby,” his wonderful voice said into my ears. “You coulda waited at home, you know. I wouldn't have taken too long.”
I started crying, and couldn't stop. Nate was trying to calm me down, but I kept sobbing, and couldn't even talk to him, so I just listened to his soothing voice as he told me he'd be with me soon, and then I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to find him and my Dad standing right there.
I snatched off the headset and threw my arms around them both, crying even harder than before, if that possible. I clung to them, but especially to Nate, and sobbed my fear and happiness and worry and joy all over him.
When I finally got a little control over myself, I pulled back and began to wipe my eyes. “You,” I said to my husband, “are never gett
ing out of my sight again!”
He laughed and wrapped his arms around me again. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, “except we get into just as much mischief when we're together. Maybe we should just buy us a private island and go live there.”
“Now, that's the smartest thing you've said yet!” I announced. “Just make sure it's got houses for all our family and friends, and a Nate's store to make sure we can get everything we need.”
He laughed, and then the lady who'd called him for me stepped out and introduced herself. She'd been his contact with the New York Police, and he gave her a hug, and then introduced her to me. I shook her hand and thanked her for helping to keep him safe, and then other cops were all around us and took Nate off somewhere to debrief him thoroughly.
He gave me his room key and told John to take me to the Hyatt, but I threw a bit of a fit, and ended up staying with him. Of course, they wouldn't let me go inside the debriefing room with him at the police precinct, so I had to sit outside there with John for two more hours. Then it was Dad's turn, but his debriefing took only about fifteen minutes, and we all finally got back to the Hyatt around two AM.
Dad grabbed John and pulled him into his own room, and Nate and I went into his. The moment we were alone, I had my arms around him again, and he was holding me tight in his embrace. I kissed him over and over and over, and told him how scared I'd been, and how I was never letting him have any more adventures, and he finally kissed me hard enough to make me shut up.
When we were finally relaxed in bed, I told him that I was pretty sure about Nate Junior being on the way, and he grinned from ear to ear. We got excited again then, and when we finally calmed back down, we both fell asleep.