City Havoc
Page 14
"Are we going to maintain our stance re their ultimatum?" This wasn't a question he really wanted to ask, given the mayor's short fuse, but he needed to know if this strategy was going to be maintained so that he could inform the force accordingly. Then there was the public. Questions were being asked, and not just by the media. "People are getting very nervous."
"We have to be consistent," Waldon snapped. "If we give in, they'll just add even more demands." The mayor continued, his wrath spilling out of him like a viscous liquid. “But who knows what they'll do next?"
"I don't know what else we can do," Calpin said, feeling helpless. "We have the assistance of all the relevant federal agencies. We will catch them. It's just a matter of time."
"But how much time do we have?" the mayor wondered, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
"This has been a good morning after all,” Bender said as he, Rona and Luke were watching television. “No one can say we didn’t enliven a slow news day. You know how they just recycle everything they ran during the week on Saturdays.”
Luke wanted to buy a pizza, but with Jez Boomie able to describe them to some extent, Bender had cut back on any public appearances despite the disguises they had used. So they just had sandwiches with the delicatessen meats he had stocked up on. Eventually they would need to go shopping and buy gas again. Luke suspected they would be leaving Los Angeles shortly, and not a moment too soon, either.
"You guys have been busy, all right,” Rona acknowledged. “If the ship and the plane don’t get the mayor to cave in, or if he isn't forced to by the governor or president, what then?”
Bender was silent and brooding. Then he said, "Well, we're going to manufacture a story they will report. Get Holly."
"The queen is sleeping," Rona said with a smile, amused by her own sarcasm. She could throw out a few bon mots herself, she thought with confidence.
"Wake her!" Bender ordered, not amused. "You do it, Luke."
"Holly, you've been on vacation, but now you have to go back to work."
Bender spoke to Holly as if she were an unruly teenager being lectured by a doting but stern parent.
"What do you want from me?" she said, apprehension creeping over her face like a tide sweeping in from the sea. She knew it had to be bad news when Luke fetched her.
"Don't look so worried," Bender said. "We haven't abused you, have we? You haven't been raped. You've been fed. You have your own room."
"I'm a lucky girl," Holly said, recovering her composure. What was the point of defining abuse to such a twisted mind?
Bender smiled and looked at Rona and Luke to see if they also appreciated Holly’s gallows humor. Rona sat with an impassive look on her face while Luke looked confused. "Well, let's get to work, shall we?” Bender said. “The entire city is awaiting your next little message."
Citizens of Los Angeles, this is Holly Baxter, and I accuse Mayor Waldon of wanton indifference to the needs and safety of the public. Since he has not acceded to our legitimate demands, we have been forced to dramatize our requests with daily actions. It is imperative that the city act, and that it act quickly. Let the mayor know what you want. Write, call, phone, fax, email. Communicate your feelings in some fashion before more people die because of his malfeasance.
Holly's taped message was phoned in by Bender to the City News Service, which circulated it to subscribing media in the Los Angeles metropolitan area.
"What a loss of life,” I said.
“And it remains to be seen what the 'j’accuse' from Holly Baxter accomplishes," Val said as we had coffee at a French restaurant on Ventura Boulevard after a marvelous repast. Our little celebration at my staying over Sunday hadn't been dimmed by the news of the day, and so far Ruiz hadn't shown up. I had very tasty coq au vin; the Gallic mood was broken a bit by a dry California Chablis. Val had chicken chasseur, which looked just as appetizing. If I stayed in Los Angeles long enough and saw Val frequently enough, I'd eventually know every restaurant on this boulevard. And the thought, I realized, had appeal. The only drawbacks were explaining my expenditures to Tramerica’s accounting department and my extra weight to my doctor.
"Again they established they can infiltrate and dislocate virtually every aspect of the city, and we can't stop them. So they’ve made their point."
"All the other flights took off as scheduled," Val pointed out. “Different story with the cruise line, though other ships are maintaining their schedules.”
“Just with fewer bookings, which is just what the terrorists want.”
Val nodded. “I think things are coming to a head. The crisis is going to end soon.”
Putting a good face on matters wasn't Val's style. Why was she trying now? Because of my imminent departure?
"As far as Holly and the mayor," I said, switching topics, "that's bad news."
"She’s still out there,” Val acknowledged.
"Unfortunately," I confirmed, sipping my wine. The HAP, I had to admit, was adroit in its use of poor Holly.
"I hope the police don't give you a hard time or dry up your sources."
"Neither will happen," Val said. "I'm glad your friend didn't show up tonight and that you didn't get a ticket."
"Not yet," I said, smiling.
Suddenly, Val leaned over and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. Not a lover’s kiss and not a companion kiss but somewhere in between.
"Derry, I also appreciate your sticking to my rules. You're a great guy, and someday maybe we'll both be in the same city at the same time . . . and with more time."
"I'll drink to that."
"I thought you might." Her smile lit up the room, and me as well.
“Much better,” Bender said exultingly as he saw Holly’s message to Mayor Waldon dominate the television screen. “And, Rona, I hope you see how Holly is still useful to us.”
“I see your point,” Rona conceded. She didn’t like it when Bender spoke to her in a patronizing manner, especially in front of Luke.
“Is Holly secure?” Bender asked.
“I’ll go check,” Luke volunteered. He lumbered down the hallway, listened at the door and then came back with a heavy step. “I think she’s asleep. I couldn’t hear anything.”
“OK, boys and girls,” Bender said, still lowering his voice. “Here’s the plan: our opportunity to make a final statement in our disinformation campaign is coming up this week. Luke, I have a very important assignment for you. Go to Windsor College first thing in the morning and take pictures of all the public entrances and exits and the general layout. But make like a tourist, understand?”
“Sure, BB,” Luke said.
“When?” Rona asked, masking her excitement. Luke also listened with rapt attention.
“On Wednesday. His honor’s appearance was just announced today. It’s very helpful that there’s no embargo on this news.”
“And then we’re leaving?” Luke asked. Hope lay like a patina on his face.
Bender smiled indulgently as if he were giving a present to an obedient child. “Yes, Luke, the very same day. You can finally say good-bye to L.A.”
A smile of relief crossed Luke’s expressive face, but he said nothing as his thoughts seemed to center on being once again in an area with clean air and fewer cars.
“And madame?” Rona asked, her voice like a dagger.
“One final sacrifice,” Bender said, shrugging.
Nine
SUNDAY
“Pig with a placard!” the announcer said, pleased with his alliteration. On the screen was a pig walking before city hall, its snout investigating the street. A close-up showed a placard secured by straps around the pig’s stout body with the large black lettering stating
PLEASE, MAYOR WALDON,
HELP YOUR CITY!
A police officer then replaced the pig on the screen. “We don’t know when the pig was released. We believe this is the work of this HAP group, and they picked a Sunday when there were less people around. Unfortunately, no one saw anything.”
If the pig wasn’t enough, the news show then followed up with Holly’s message. HAP, two, and the city and police, zero. I was striking out, too. At least there was no mention of Holly, which was good for Tramerica. Without a doubt, Baxter and his lawyers and his private investigator were all keeping score, too. The announcer droned on about how no one was able to stop the HAP, which seemed to operate with impunity. It was too much to listen to, and I clicked the TV off.
Demoralized, I got out of bed. The HAP was busy at work, and I had my own schedule to follow.
Mayor Waldon fumed as he sat in his office trying to dispel his disgust. Instead of playing eighteen holes at his country club, he was sitting midmorning on Sunday, where he would shortly make yet another statement. He knew he had to respond to the message from Holly Baxter as well as the stupid use of a pig. The television stations had saturated the Saturday night news with her bombshell; as if there had been no other news, it was a dominant topic on Sunday morning as well. He was surprised that 60 Minutes, Meet The Press or Nightline hadn't called yet to schedule him for an interview.
His cue came. He cleared his throat and spoke:
"My fellow citizens, our city is being subjected to a terrorist siege, and one of their purposes is to get publicity for themselves and what they state their cause to be. However, this city—nor, in my opinion, any city or state or country—cannot and should not give in. History has shown us that surrendering in this way only generates more demands and more acts of terrorism, and the vicious cycle continues. We will not fall victim to that cycle.
“Our police force, ably aided by federal authorities, is working diligently to put an end to this group and their cowardly actions. They will be caught, and soon, and they will be punished to the full extent of the law.
“Finally, I am very sorry to note again that Miss Baxter has evidently thrown in with these terrorists. If so, it is a sad day for her and for her family. But justice will be served.
“We ask that you remain patient, alert and secure in the knowledge that no effort is being spared to bring this situation under control. Los Angeles has survived many crises—man-made and natural—and we will survive and triumph over this problem as well. Thank you."
Mayor Waldon stared at the screen as if it would confirm the effectiveness of his brief talk until it went to the newscaster. He had been firm and statesmanlike, he thought, but he listened intently as the media pundits began their analysis and assorted spins.
Meanwhile, Merch was still going over all the phone calls, faxes and e-mail messages coming in on a steady basis. Thus far, most of the voluminous messages, while critical of the city and especially the police for not finding the HAP, still supported his unbending stance. How long that support might last, though, was unclear.
Dodgers Stadium was sold out. With the Dodgers’ archrival, the San Francisco Giants, in town for a three-game series and only two games separating the teams from the division lead, they had split the first two games. Sunday's game would give the series edge to one of the teams. While it was still early in the season, the game had been sold out for weeks.
The sky was virtually cloudless, but it wasn't too hot, and it appeared to be a great day for an afternoon baseball game. Fans were still finding their seats in the Dodgers half of the first inning after the Giants had gone out in order in their first at bat when a small Piper plane suddenly flew overhead, releasing a torrent of leaflets, small pins and white droplets that floated like snow onto the stands and the playing field. Many people scanned the sky to catch a glimpse of the plane, which released a one-word white vapor message:
ANTHRAX
The plane disappeared to the north almost as quickly as it had arrived. Another successful mission, Bender said to himself while taking one last look at the panic beginning to emerge in the stadium. This time he made sure he didn’t miss his target.
Pandemonium quickly spread when people in the stands saw the single word in the sky as the white droplets descended on them. Fans made frantic dashes to the exits, trampling others in their attempts to escape the apparently dangerous substance floating about and settling on them. Screams sounded throughout the stadium from people lying on the stone steps as others stormed over them. Some people shed their clothes as they crouched on the wooden benches before rushing semi-naked to roofs near the exit. The umpires as well as ballplayers vanished from the field and ran into the two dugouts. Some remained to peer out at the deserted playing area while others sought sanctuary in the clubhouses. Groundskeepers stayed off the field as the litter grew and began to cover a good deal of the green grass and the infield dirt.
If you want to be a HAP, write your congressman or senator on the Internet since the city of Los Angeles isn’t interested in your welfare. Tell your political representatives what your concerns are. We will listen if they don't. The U.S. needs help. Will you help your country?
Sincerely,
The HAP
Short and sweet, Bender thought, looking at the television screen. The close-up of the mini-manifesto was quite readable, though it didn't stay up very long. He had kept the note short on purpose to make it easier to read and be shown on television. The newscaster then quickly showed the HAP pin with another close-up of the insignia:
Help America Patriots
The HAP
Bender looked at the screen with satisfaction as the announcer said, "Police are investigating this newest incident by the HAP. The Dodgers-Giants game was canceled and will be rescheduled for a future date. A hazmat team was quickly on the scene and said that tests have revealed that the substance released over Dodgers Stadium wasn’t anthrax, as the skywriting claimed. It was ordinary table salt. But pandemonium still took place, and preliminary reports found that nineteen people were trampled to death. At least five fatal heart attacks are believed to have happened, and hundreds have been taken to several hospitals."
"Do you think people are silly enough to become recruits?" Rona asked with a cruel smile.
"You never know," Bender said. "We can monitor some of the mail the politicians get, but it was more the message, you know."
"I know," Rona said with a smirk. "Where's the plane now?"
"Far away. Out of state, out of sight, and not identifiable. The hangar it was in has also been put back into its original state, warehousing auto parts, I believe. We're safe."
"We'll be safe once we're gone from here."
"Just a few more days, dear,” Bender said with mock consideration. “The mayor’s a bit tougher than I thought, but he’ll crack.”
“I think our boy made a mistake today," Deputy Chief Johnson said as the quickly convened meeting began in the late afternoon. “He’s obviously had military experience. We figured that already with the grenade launcher. But now he flies, too.”
"But how will we track him down?" asked FBI agent Rod Matthews.
"If he flew the plane, he must have a pilot's license," surmised Dave Roberts, of the ATF.
"Exactly," Johnson said. "And we know for what category of plane. We're already checking every Piper rental in southern California, but I have a feeling we'll strike out. They're too careful for that."
"So thousands of men have flying licenses, and for this type of plane," Matthews said. "How can we narrow it down?"
"Good question," Johnson said. "But I've got some ideas about flying schools as well as the military. We need to do one hell of a lot of cross-referencing. But I think it will pay off. . . . "
"It better," Roberts said. "Washington isn't very happy, let alone Los Angeles."
"That's for sure," Matthews agreed.
"We're all on the griddle here," Johnson said. "Let's hope this is a way off the burner."
****
Bender he
ld the cell phone tightly as if it might fall out of his hand. His voice was low and respectful. “Yes, sir, everything is proceeding according to plan.”
He listened a moment and then said, “We’re projecting our image successfully, with a strong entry into this marketplace. The competition is trying to slow our progress, but we’re making solid inroads.”
Though he was interrupted, Bender didn’t protest. He listened intently and then responded, “Yes, sir. I understand.”
After more instructions, Bender said, “Definitely. Our introductory program will soon be over, and we’ll be able to concentrate on other markets.”
Bender stared at the cell phone as if it still might be instructing him, and then he smashed it and tossed it in the garbage. Their brief patter sounded like a normal marketing discussion. He had never met his contact, who had brokered the deal with the council, but everything was running smoothly.
It was an informal but impressive group at Professor Cabral's home. I had spent a good part of the day finishing my report for Wolcott. But after hearing about the Dodgers game disaster, I figured I'd have to revise it a bit. I had already added Holly's frontal attack on Mayor Waldon and the strolling pig before city hall. I had also appended his honor’s tepid response. Now I needed to see what the city and police’s reaction, if any, would be to this latest HAP outrage. I picked Val up. She looked especially attractive in a frilly white blouse and a dark brown skirt that hugged the curves of her body like glue. But she seemed down, and I hoped it was for the same reason I was: my imminent departure back to New York.