Hostage

Talley keyed his mike to talk to his other cars.

'This is Talley. Clear the freq and listen. Jorgenson and I are currently in front of the house at one-eight Castle Way in York Estates. Anders is evacuating the residents of the surrounding houses. Dreyer and Mikkelson are at the rear of the property on Flanders Road near a red Nissan pickup. We believe that one or more of the people who shot Junior Kim and Mike Welch are in the house. They are armed. We need an ID. Did Welch run the plates on that truck?'

Mikkelson came back.

'Chief, two.'

'Go, two.'

'The truck is registered to De

Talley pulled out his pad and scratched down Rooney's name. In another life he would dispatch a unit to Rooney's address, but he didn't have the manpower for that now.

His radio popped again.

'Chief, Anders.'

'Go, Larry.'

'I'm with one of the neighbors. She says the people in the house are named Smith, Walter and Pamela Smith. They've got two kids. A girl and a boy. Hang on. Okay, it's Je

'Does she know if they're in the house?'

Talley could hear Anders talking with the neighbor. Anders was so anxious that he was keying his mike before he was ready. Talley told him to slow down.

'She says the wife is in Florida visiting a sister, but she believes that the rest of the family is at home. She says the husband works there in the house.'

Talley cursed under his breath. He had a possible three hostages inside. Three killers, three hostages. He had to find out what was happening inside the house and cool out the shooters. It was called 'stabilizing the situation.' That's all he had to do. He told himself that over and over like a mantra: That's all you have to do.

Talley took a deep breath to gather himself, then another. He keyed his public address system so that he could speak to the house. In the next moment he would engage the subjects. In that instant, the negotiation would begin. Talley had sworn that he would never again be in this place. He had turned his life inside out to avoid it, yet here he was.

'My name is Jeff Talley. Is anyone in the house hurt?'

His voice echoed through the neighborhood. He heard a police car pull up at the mouth of the cul-de-sac, but he did not turn to look; he kept his eyes fixed on the house.

'Everyone in the house relax. We're not in a hurry here. If you've got wounded, let's get them tended to. We can work this out.'

No one answered. Talley knew that the subjects in the house were now under incredible stress. They had been involved in two shootings, and now they were trapped. They would be scared, and the danger level to the civilians would be great. Talley's job was to reduce their stress. If you gave the subjects time to calm down and think about their situation, sometimes they realized that their only way out was to surrender. Then all you had to do was give them an excuse to give up. That was the way it worked. Talley had been taught these things at the FBI's Crisis Management School, and it had worked that way every time until George Malik had shot his own son in the neck.

Talley keyed the mike again. He tried to make his voice reasonable and assuring.

'We're going to start talking sooner or later. It might as well be now. Is everyone in there okay, or does someone need a doctor?'

A voice in the house finally answered.

'Fuck you.'

Her father's eyes flickered as if he were dreaming, back and forth, up and down. He made a soft whimpering sound, but his eyes didn't open. Thomas hunched beside her, whispering.

'What's wrong?'

'He's not waking up. He should be awake, shouldn't he?'

This wasn't supposed to be happening; not in her house, not in Bristo Camino, not on this perfect summer day.

'Daddy, please!'

Mars knelt beside her to feel her father's neck. He was large and gross. She could smell him. Sweat and vegetables.

'Looks like brain damage.'

Je

'Fuck you.'

Mars blinked uncomfortably, as if she had surprised and embarrassed him.

'I don't do things like that. They're bad.'

Mars walked away.

Her father's wound pulsed steadily, but the bleeding had almost stopped, the clotted blood and injured flesh swelling into an ugly purple volcano. Je

'I want to get some ice.'

'Shut up and sit your ass down.'

'I'm getting some ice. He's hurt.'

De

'Mars, take her into the kitchen. Make sure Kevin isn't fucking off back there.'

Je

Je

'What are you doing?'

He towered over her, his groin only inches from her face. She slowly stood to her full height. He was still a foot taller, and so close that it hurt to look up. Je

'I'm getting a washcloth. Then I'm going to open the freezer for the ice. Is that all right with you?'

Mars edged closer. His chest brushed the tips of her breasts. She did not let herself look away or step back, but her voice was hoarse.

'Get away from me.'

Mars stared down at her, his eyes unfocused, almost as if he couldn't see her. A vacant smile played at his lips. He swayed, his chest massaging gently against her breasts.

She still would not let herself step back. She summoned her strength again, and spoke clearly.

'Get away from me.'

The vacant smile flickered, then his eyes focused as if he could once more see her.

She opened the cabinet again without waiting for him to answer, found a cloth, then went to the freezer for ice. It was a huge black Sub-Zero, the kind with a freezer drawer on the bottom. She pulled it open, then scooped ice into the washcloth. Most of it spilled onto the floor.

'I need a bowl.'

'So get one.'

Mars walked away as she got the bowl. He went into the family room, and asked if Kevin had seen anything. She couldn't hear Kevin's answer.

Je

Mars said, 'What's taking so long?'

'I'm ready.'

'Hang on.'