Takeover - Lisa Black [22]
And now the hostages included a baby. This had gone from bad to worse.
Bobby returned. “I used a shelf to wedge that door. I don’t know how long it will hold. They’d be nuts to come in there anyway—we’d see them long before they’d reach us.”
“I don’t want them even tempted. You’d better hang out in this half of the lobby and keep these people between you and that door and that hallway, in case they decide to come in all commando-like.”
Bobby zipped quickly past the vulnerable center section. “What about the elevators?”
“They probably turned them off. But if you hear a ‘ding,’ dive for cover and come up shooting.”
“Now what?”
“Get the tie-wraps.”
Bobby laid aside the automatic rifle to dig in his duffel bag. Dust motes danced in the sunbeam above him as it slanted down from the high windows.
“You, in the pink,” the tall robber said to the woman next to Paul. “Stand up.”
The young woman trembled.
Should I stop this? Paul wondered. Bobby had the gun back in his hand.
“Come on, get up. I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to borrow you for a minute. Now turn around. I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, like this. That’s all you have to do. Now you three.” He nodded at the three security guards, who knelt in a line between the rest of the hostages and the two new women. “Now that Bobby has relieved you of your weapons, he’s going to cuff you to the teller cages there. Don’t get nervous. No one’s going to get hurt as long as you do what I say.”
The three young men gazed at him, and Paul could see them working out various methods of attack in their minds. They had been trained for exactly this—which was no doubt why this guy had to neutralize them.
“But if you try to rush me, this girl—What’s your name, sugar?”
It came out in a whisper. “Missy.”
“That’s a pretty name. Missy here is going to stay between me and you three. And if you get in a scuffle with my partner, the next sound you will hear is Missy’s guts spattering all over these other folks. On the other hand, if you come along real nice, Bobby won’t make the cuffs too tight. We’ll take some money, and then we’ll leave, and everyone, even Missy, gets to keep their guts. Do we understand each other?”
Silence.
“I asked if we understand each other.”
The three nodded, one at a time, ever so slightly.
“Okay. You with the dog. Take him with you and tie-wrap the leash to the cage. Make it secure. If he gets loose, I will be able to shoot him before he ever makes it to me.”
Paul watched as Bobby and each guard moved slowly, carefully, down the iron grillwork wall to the south end of the lobby. The metal bars made a handy thing to tie people to and appeared as solidly constructed as the rest of the building. From there the guards faced the savings-bond teller cages and the opaque windows hiding East Sixth Street from view. Missy, her brown eyes seething with both fear and anger, didn’t seem to breathe at all. Paul thought of the gun at his hip. What should he do with it?
It occurred to him that he had to live. He had a wedding to attend. Theresa would not forgive him if he missed it.
He shifted slightly, as if his legs were getting stiff—which they were. The tall robber’s eyes flicked to him, watched for a moment. It could have been a trick of the light on the sunglasses, but Paul didn’t think so. The man’s finger only had to twitch against the trigger of that M4 carbine he held and Missy would be cut in half before Paul could blink.
His gun would stay in its holster for now.
Odd as it seemed, what he longed to do more than anything was call Patrick and tell him the dead man’s widow and child were here. It seemed relevant to the investigation.
And what about the Nextel? If it went off, it could startle the two men. But if he tried to turn it off, he would attract attention, and he did not want attention from these guys. If they had gotten anything more than a speeding ticket in their lifetime, they would know a cop when they saw one. Ex-cons always could. Besides, he couldn’t bear to deaden his only connection