Manipulate

by Wes Lowe

  The second insane idea in less than ten seconds but, like the first, no other option was available.

  “On three,” said Noah. “One. Two. Three.”

  Noah lowered himself slightly, then launched himself upward. Without his weight, Abby and Olivia fell backward but maintained their grip and JJ shot toward them.

  But Noah couldn’t grab the ledge and started to fall.

  JJ extended his arm and grabbed Noah’s outstretched hand before he whisked past him. He was sufficiently inside the building that he was able to pull Noah in.

  Safely inside the building, Abby, observing the mess of construction and renovation materials, commented, “So that’s where you got the tarps.”

  “Guilty as charged,” grinned JJ, shooting Abby an affectionate glance.

  Noah turned to Olivia. “I love the New Amsterdam concept. We’ve got to do it, not just here but everywhere. Let’s grab lunch sometime to talk about it.” Then, with his best phony hipster attitude, he winked. “Love ya, babe.”

  Abby and Olivia had the same thoughts. Despite the danger they were in, these guys still had a sense of humor. I like that.

  All four laughed hysterically. They had dodged a bullet…but there was more to come.

  45

  Leverage

  After they disentangled themselves from the tarps, there was little time for Queenie, Byron and Kenny to check out the bruises Noah and JJ inflicted on them.

  Noah, Olivia and Abby were no longer in the room.

  Queenie ran to the window, but there was no sign of them.

  “Find them. Block the stairways,” screamed Queenie.

  Using their cell phones’ lights, Kenny and Byron ran to the stairway. Kenny opened the door but there was no sign or sound of activity.

  Queenie tried the elevator. With the power gone, the elevator was not moving.

  A quick flyby showed no one was in the reception area.

  Bathrooms were checked—nobody.

  The trio went to Studio 5. The huge glass windows allowed light to illuminate some objects but nothing was moving. Piano, music stands, drums, microphones were all intact. No one was in any of the three isolation booths.

  There was one last place to check. Byron, Queenie and Kenny went to the equipment storage room.

  They opened the door.

  Jackpot.

  Noah, JJ, Olivia and Abby were not there but something even better was—six members of the children’s choir playing interactive cell phone games with Jeff and Leonard. The ten-year-old choristers had quietly hidden when everybody else was leaving because they wanted to bask a little longer in the glow of the recording session.

  While the boardroom meeting was taking place, phony Manhattan executives Jeff and Leonard explored the studio and found the kids hiding.

  “You morons,” snarled Byron.

  “No, Byron. All is good,” grinned Queenie. “Noah may not want to give up a ransom for Olivia and Abby, but sacrificing six fourth graders who came to Skyscape for their first recording session? I don’t think so. That’s one hell of a bargaining chip.”

  Queenie composed a text.

  “We’ll call the police, get these turkeys locked up, and tomorrow we can start on a Version 2.0 of the New Amsterdam, okay?” asked Noah as he pulled out his cell to make the call.

  But, before he did, Sam and Walrus entered carrying the security guard’s uniform.

  “I thought I told you to stay downstairs,” growled Noah.

  Sam stuck out his tongue. “After all we did for you? No way Walrus and me were gonna miss the action.”

  Noah’s cell phone dinged.

  There was another video and a text message.

  SEE THIS BEFORE YOU MAKE ANY RASH DECISIONS.

  Noah hit PLAY.

  Queenie was with the six kids in the darkened recording studio. They stood against the window so there was enough light to make out their frightened faces.

  One scared little girl stammered, “Noah, the price has gone up to five hundred million. If you aren’t up here within half an hour, ready to transfer the funds, I have to pick which one of my friends gets killed first.”

  The child began to cry.

  Noah pursed his lips and exhaled a long thoughtful gust of air. “JJ, Olivia, Abby, take Sam and Walrus downstairs.”

  “I am not going. You need warriors,” said JJ firmly.

  “And I’m not leaving either, Noah. I got us into this mess,” glowered Olivia.

  “Neither am I,” added Abby.

  Walrus declared with conviction, “Hey, man, I ain’t going nowhere.”

  “You need us, Noah,” said Sam. “Anyway, I got a plan. I’m small enough to get into the air ducts. I’m gonna sneak in and karate chop them to death.”

  Noah shook his head in resignation. “Thank you all, but no. I’m not jeopardizing any of you and those innocent kids shouldn’t die because of my stupidity and stubbornness. I’m going to give the money to her.”

  “No!” shouted Olivia. “Do you think she’ll let them live, knowing they could ID any of them? And what’s worse? Giving her money will only make her stronger. You think Queenie’s the type to stop, retire to a desert island and paint her toenails? No way. She’s just like her father. Greedy merciless people never change.”

  Noah took a breath. He knew she was right.

  Half an hour. If they told anybody, the kids were dead. If they made a mistake, the kids were dead. If he didn’t transfer the money, the kids were dead.

  Suddenly, a black police officer of about forty trudged out of the shadows of darkness. “Hello, I’m Gaylord’s father. I found him and Sam with my GPS tracker.”

  The policeman took the 9mm pistol out of Walrus’ hand and addressed Noah. “I heard everything and I think your problems are bigger than the whippin’ I’m gonna give Gaylord…”

  46

  Say Hey

  “Your real name is Gaylord?” howled Sam with laughter.

  “You’re not supposed to tell anybody my real name,” cried Walrus.

  “I like it. That’s why I gave it to you,” snorted the policeman. “Gaylord Perry’s a hero in Williamston, our home town.” The cop offered his hand. “Willie Mays Potter.”

  “Say hey,” said Noah, also trying to suppress laughing at Walrus’ real name.

  “I like you. You’re a baseball fan,” beamed the cop. “You know about ‘Say hey.’”

  “No, I don’t know anything about baseball. I know about Hall of Famer Willie Mays because he started the Say Hey Foundation. They help kids, just like we do and, if we don’t do something fast, there’s gonna be six less of them in half an hour. They’re being held hostage for there’s no time to get the authorities involved.”

  Willie Mays turned serious. “I am here unofficially, if you get my drift.”

  Noah nodded. What Willie was saying was that he was not tied to the restrictions that police officers on duty were hamstrung by. “Everything here is strictly off the record.”

  Another now hated ding signaled the arrival of another text.

  WE ARE WAITING. TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES TO GO BEFORE...

  “What do we do with that?” asked Olivia.

  “Nothing,” said Noah. “We let them squirm.”

  “But they might hurt one of the kids,” said Abby.

  “Noah’s right,” said Willie Mays. “They gave you thirty minutes. Don’t be too anxious. You lose all leverage.”

  “Are you a hostage negotiator?” asked Olivia, furrowing her brow.

  “No. Traffic cop. But I watched ‘The Negotiator’ the movie seven times. Samuel Jackson is the man.”

  Just great.

  “What if he doesn’t show?” fretted Jeff, sweating bullets. He had accepted the job because of promised easy cash. These complications were not part of the gig. “We’ll kill the kids and then where we gonna be? No money, no protection. They’ll catch us sooner or later. They’ll lock us up and throw away the key.”

  “Stop worrying,�
� snarled Queenie.

  “I am not going back to the big house. Your plan has screwed up big time. Noah didn’t come through at the morning meeting. He didn’t come through at the afternoon presentation, and he’s not going to come through now,” said Jeff in full-blown panic. “I want out. Now.”

  Queenie softened. “Okay. Okay. Have it your way. I’ll give you ten thousand bucks and you can go. I’ve got the cash in here.” She rummaged through her bag as she walked over to Jeff.

  “No games, Queenie.”

  “Never.” Instead of pulling the money out, Queenie whipped out a crane’s foot.

  Giving him no time to react, she lunged at the turncoat and sliced his throat with the bird’s claw.

  Blood immediately gushed from the jugular. If anyone had a BP monitor, they would have seen Jeff’s arterial blood pressure dropping like a stone.

  “No, no,” gurgled the actor in his final performance. Keeling backward, he collapsed to the floor and was dead moments after he hit ground.

  Completely unnecessary was a second deep stab—this time to the heart. It was pure malice and a fateful warning.

  Queenie glared at the children. “That’s what happens when you don’t obey me. Any questions?”

  None of the kids spoke. All were shaking or crying; a few of them peed their pants.

  Time raced for Noah and the team. So little time, so much at stake. Noah outlined the sketchiest of plans, developed on a lifetime of immersion in martial arts and the study of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

  When able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.

  Hold out bait to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.

  If he is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him.

  Attack him where he is unprepared; appear where you are not expected.

  Noah ordered, “We need small weapons that can be concealed. Look around. Office supplies, building materials. Whatever you can stuff on your person.”

  As Sam, JJ and Walrus searched, Noah addressed Olivia and Abby. “Lose the dresses and heels. Too constricting and no pockets.”

  “Yes, sir.” Olivia donned the guard’s long jacket while Abby put on the guard’s shirt and pants. Definitely not the fashion statements they were seconds earlier but much more comfortable in clothes suitable for carrying makeshift weapons.

  “Okay, Olivia and Abby, go back out on the window ledge. They saw you guys freak and would never suspect you. You can be the element of surprise.”

  Olivia balked at the prospect of being back up so high without a net. “Do we have to do this, Noah?”

  Noah held back for a moment, then blasted, “No, you don’t, Olivia. You don’t have to do a damned thing. Just get out of our way. You have screwed this thing up from the start and I don’t have time to play nursemaid anymore… Hey, it’s not me you’re playing with anymore, Olivia. It’s the six kids’ lives on the line. The only reason they’re here was so you and Abby could play ‘superstar.’ So, do you have to do this? Do you even need to ask?”

  This outburst stunned Olivia. No one had ever told her off like that in her life.

  “We’ll go,” said Abby, then ventured timidly, “What are we going to do out there?”

  “Here, take this,” said Willie Mays, handing Olivia his service weapon.

  “And these.” JJ handed Abby his last few martial arts stars.

  Olivia and Abby’s hands shook as they put the weapons into their pockets. After the raking he had just given them, they weren’t going to let Noah know they had never used them.

  “JJ and I will create a distraction. If you get a clear shot, take it!”

  Adrenaline pumping, Sam asked, “What about me, Noah?”

  “Get inside the equipment room. When we got the grand tour, I saw it was crammed full of junk. Find something to create a diversion. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  “You got it, Noah.” This was so cool. Think on your feet. Clandestine. Chase the bad guys.

  “Walrus and Willie, it’s time for some father-son time. I want you to do some research from the NYPD database and make me a little movie. Can you do video editing on a cell phone?

  “Does grass grow after it rains? Do cows avoid McDonalds? Do birds turd on your head?” asked Walrus. “I can do anything with a cell phone.”

  “Okay, you two stay here on this floor. We may need you to help evacuate the kids once we rescue them,” Noah said.

  “You got it,” Willie told Noah.

  “And JJ, you get to do something you’ve always wanted to do. Hit me.”

  JJ bowed deeply with a grin, “I serve at the pleasure of my master.”

  Noah pointed his index finger at JJ. “I knew you’d see the light someday.”

  47

  Hardball

  Hey, this was like being Spider Man, only better because this was real. Sam climbed into the air duct. Starting from the eleventh floor, it was tricky getting up to the twelfth floor because he had to push his hands and feet against the duct’s sides without making noise or slipping.

  Ten feet up, Sam lost his grip and toppled. He pushed his legs hard and fast against the duct’s walls to stabilize himself. Restarting his ascent was much more difficult. Gun shy of making another mistake, his sweaty palms made it even harder to stick to the duct’s sides.

  And then, another problem when he hit the top. The duct split into two horizontal paths, going in opposite directions. Now which way? Sam made an arbitrary choice. He took the one on the left and hoped it was the right one.

  Seeing Queenie take Jeff’s life and waiting for Noah to appear made the tension unbearable. When one kid started bawling, Leonard picked him up and screamed, “You want to be next to die? Shut up.”

  Byron, knowing that losing a hostage meant losing leverage, yanked Leonard off. “Man up, idiot.”

  “You’re the idiot,” retorted Leonard as he took a swing at Byron. The older man, deceptively strong, snatched Leonard’s arm mid-air and broke it. He delivered a short, chopping right hand with the power of Mike Tyson to Leonard’s jaw, sending him into oblivion.

  And then the room lights came back on.

  JJ stepped in with a battered and bruised Noah, his hands tied behind his back. JJ announced simply. “I want in. Seventy-five million.”

  No way. Queenie cooed, “JJ, I knew you were the man for me the moment I saw you.”

  JJ gave her a casual once-over. “I can have any woman I want. I don’t need New York’s leftovers. Seventy-five million.”

  “You might be able to have any woman you want but none of them are me.”

  “So what? None of the men you’ve had are me. I did what your father could not do, what your brother Duke could not do, what your brother King could not do. I have brought down the mighty Noah Reid.”

  “I’ll give you five million dollars.”

  “Stop wasting my time. I could go to anyone. Another snakehead, the radicalists, the supremacists. I could even go to your Russian friends.”

  “But you didn’t. You came to me because you want me,” murmured Queenie.

  “Oh, please. I came to you because we can get the deal done now. Also, I know you won’t kill me.”

  “How do you know that?”

  JJ took out his cellphone and showed her a picture. “Because I have control.”

  The picture was of a nasty black cop holding Elizabeth Watson, Queenie’s mother. Mother and daughter shared the same names. With bruises and cuts, the older Elizabeth looked even worse off than Noah.

  JJ hit the play button. The video and audio were distorted but the voice was unmistakably that of Queenie’s mom. “Save me, Queenie. I can’t take this anymore.”

  JJ hit PAUSE. The wonders of a teenage geek. Abby had phoned Elizabeth, requesting a two
-minute video conversation. Strung out and broke, the long washed-up Elizabeth refused until a courier arrived at her door with five hundred dollars. Walrus set up and recorded a FaceTime video, and edited it in with a video of his father.

  “She’s dead to me. No big deal,” said Queenie harshly.

  “Suit yourself. But let me play a bit more.

  JJ hit PLAY.

  Elizabeth came back on. “If you don’t give it to him, I will give the cop everything I have on you. I kept records on everything I could.”

  JJ stopped the video. “Do we have a deal?”

  Queenie inhaled. Her mother didn’t know much about her, but it was enough to ensure that she would never taste freedom again. “Thirty million.”

  JJ laughed sarcastically. “Fifty and we have a deal.”

  Queenie nodded. “Get a laptop, Kenny.”

  JJ deserves an Academy Award. Noah looked on cautiously. The knots that JJ tied behind his back were easy to undo but, without a stellar performance from the Shaolin martial artist, attention would have returned back to him.

  48

  Now What?

  With the lives of six innocents at stake, Noah knew a straight-line approach to save them wouldn’t work. In order to have any chance of success, a multi-dimensional plan of diversions and trust was required.

  Noah knew that the video with Queenie’s mom would have no effect on Queenie in terms of negotiation. Queenie and her mom were long ago estranged. It would, however, make her feel that JJ really had turned and that his reach was substantial. If this happened, he and JJ could get closer to the children.