One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [100]
We need to break out of here right now, before we meet the interrogators. The fewer people the better.
To compound matters, I had to do it without harming the agents. This wasn’t their fault. They got paid to intercept terrorists. I’d do the same thing.
The agent at the desk said, “Good to go. Rooms seven and thirteen. Rob and Kenny are tied up right now, but they’ll be down in ten minutes. They’ll meet you there.”
The first agent nodded, telling us, “Follow me.” He turned and punched in the code to the cipher lock of the door leading into the interior hallway, and presumably the secondary interrogation facilities. I checked out the man behind the computer, seeing that he had taken off his equipment belt and hung it on the wall behind him. Mistake number one.
I knew why they were acting so pleasant—it was to prevent a scuffle in front of any passengers or other civilians. What I didn’t understand was why they had used only one agent to do this. They should have a man behind me and a man in front, preventing me from taking out both at the same time. Mistake number two.
Before the man could open the door, I threw my left arm around his neck and drew the Glock 19 from the holster on the agent’s right hip. I raised my right leg and racked the slide of the Glock on the edge of my boot. I kicked the back of the agent’s leg hard enough to cause him to lean backward, with me supporting his weight. I rotated the agent away from the door, placing the front sight of the Glock on the agent behind the desk. The action happened in a blink of an eye, quick enough to prevent the agent behind the desk from getting to his feet. He held up his hands, a look of terror on his face, convinced he was face-to-face with an insane suicidal maniac.
I barked out orders quickly, intent on dominating the confrontation. “Don’t fucking move. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Put your hands on top of your head.”
60
Jennifer stood dumbfounded by Pike’s actions. Jesus Christ, he’s gone nuts. He’s flashed back to some sort of Rambo scene getting tortured by the Vietcong.
“What in the hell are you doing! Have you lost your mind? My God! Pike! Put down the gun!”
Pike bared his teeth at her and said, “Take a look at the computer monitor.”
The agent Pike was holding tried his hand at negotiation. “Look, we only have a few questions. Nobody’s saying you’re a terrorist. Put the gun down and we can sort this out peacefully.”
Pike laughed. “I suppose this whole hostage-taking thing would be forgotten, huh? If I give you the gun, we can start over like this never happened? Promise?”
Jennifer cut in, turning back from the monitor. “What’s this mean? Why are we on the screen as terrorists? What’s going on here?”
Pike said, “I don’t know. Something’s screwed up, and we don’t have the time to sort it out here.”
He addressed the customs agents. “Both of you listen to me. We aren’t terrorists, and I can’t have you arrest us. I’m going to have each of you take off your clothes. I’m then going to tie you both up. I’m not going to hurt either one of you. Please don’t do anything to escalate this situation. I really, really don’t want to hurt you. Do you understand my instructions?”
They both nodded. “Okay. You at the desk, take off your clothes. Once you’re done, lie down on your stomach with your ankles crossed.”
The man at the desk complied, lying down with nothing on but a T- shirt and underwear.
Pike spoke to Jennifer. “Go outside and wait for me. Alert me if someone’s coming this way.”
Jennifer started to leave, then paused. He wants me out of the way. . . . He’s going to hurt them . . . maybe kill them.... Before she could say anything, the agent on the floor became agitated, looking wildly at Pike and Jennifer, apparently making the same mental leap that Jennifer had.
“Stop what you’re thinking. I’m not going to harm you, but I