State of Siege - Tom Clancy [103]
"No tricks," Rodgers said. "I hear you."
"I hope so," Downer said. "When he's gone, I want you to put your gun down and raise your hands straight up. When you're both out of here, I want you to send that bitch secretary-general in with her hands on her head."
"You don't have a lot of time," Rodgers pointed out. "The gas will come through the-was
"I know about the gas," Downer cried. "I won't need a lot of time if you shut up and move!"
"All right," Rodgers said. He looked up at the door. "Lieutenant, please make sure the secretary-general is outside and then stay out of the room. I'm coming up to join you."
Mailman hesitated.
Rodgers moved the gun from the terrorist's hand to Mailman's forehead. "Lieutenant, I said I want you out of here."
Mailman scowled and backed from the Security Council. Rodgers squatted, put his gun on the floor, and lifted his hands high. Then he walked toward the staircase on the south side of the chamber. He quickly made his way up the stairs. He didn't think the terrorist would bother firing at him. Until Secretary-General Chatterjee came in, Rodgers was his only means of communicating with the outside.
Rodgers continued up the stairwell. He was nearly level with the fourth row from the top, where the terrorist was hiding. He was looking at Harleigh, whose back was toward him. The slender girl was locked in place, with her hair pulled tight. She wasn't crying, but that didn't surprise him. From talking to POW'S, Rodgers knew that pain provided focus. It was often a mercy, a distraction from danger or a seemingly hopeless situation. He wanted to say something encouraging to Harleigh. At the same time, he didn't want to do anything that might annoy the terrorist. Not when there was a gun barrel pressed against the girl's skull.
Rodgers backed out the door. That gave him one last chance to glance toward the north side of the chamber. He couldn't see Brett August from where he was standing. Either the colonel had snuggled up close to the seats or else he'd lost so much blood from his wounds that he'd passed out.
Rodgers hoped that wasn't the case. This was going to be difficult enough as it was.
Rodgers stepped into the hallway. Chatterjee was there. She looked at him for a moment, then put her hands on her head and started toward the door to the Security Council.
Rodgers put his arm in front of her, barring her way. "You know about the poison gas?" he asked. "The lieutenant told me," she replied.
Rodgers stepped closer. "Did he also tell you that one of my men is still in there?" he whispered.
She seemed surprised.
"The terrorist thinks my man is dead," Rodgers said. "If Colonel August can get a shot, he's going to take it. I didn't want you to be surprised and give him away." Chatterjee's expression darkened. Rodgers lowered his arm, and the secretary-general walked past him. As she entered the Security Council and shut the door behind her, Rodgers felt like running in after her and dragging her out. He had a sick feeling deep in his belly, the feeling that despite everything that had happened, Chatterjee still believed in an unwritten United Nations policy. A policy that the world organization had upheld repeatedly against the weight of common sense and fundamental morality.
The idea that terrorists had rights.
New York, New York Sunday, 12:21 A.M.
Mala Chatterjee's mind and soul were tortured as she entered the Security Council chamber,
The terrorist was lying on the floor. Chatterjee saw the head of his prisoner, and she saw the gun being held against