The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [123]
“What burns green?” asked George.
“The horn sounding off is the fire alarm on the boat,” said Sally. “This is our office, and they’ve got a fire alarm on the boat.”
There was a small marine band radio on top of a filing cabinet in a corner of Hester’s office. It came to life.
“General Beauregard to the DCI office in the Port of Frieberg,” came a calm, clear voice. “This is Captain Hanson, calling the DCI office at the Port of Frieberg.”
Hester picked up the mike. “Beauregard, this is Agent Gorse. Go ahead.”
“Ma’am,” said Captain Hanson, “there’s a man here with a mask on and a gun to my head, who says I’m to call you and give you a situation report on my vessel.”
Hester was more self-possessed than I was at that point. She actually answered in a normal tone of voice. “Go ahead with your report.”
“Well, ma’am, first of all we don’t have any fire. I repeat, there is no fire. We have some intruders who pulled the alarm and say they just set off a smoke candle. Then my engineer tells me that we have an engineering casualty in that somebody has set off a little bit of explosive that has disabled our engines. We don’t have a fire. We still have generating capability, but we can’t move the boat under her own power.”
“Right,” said Hester.
“Then,” said the captain, “the head of security tells me that the cash cages on the oh-one, oh-two, and oh-three decks and the counting room on the second deck have just been forcibly entered by armed men. They are going to remove all the money from the ship.” He paused.
“Yes…” said Hester.
“And I’m to tell you that we don’t have any casualties yet.”
Silence.
“Captain?”
Nothing. Hester picked up her binoculars, and looked toward the Beauregard. “I can’t see for shit…” She paused. “The green smoke is letting up … I think …”
The marine band radio came back to life. “DCI?”
“Go ahead, Captain,” said Hester.
“This man says that they are to be allowed off the boat unhindered, or they will sink her.” You could faintly hear some other voice in the background. “And he also says that they are going to break our radios here, and that they’ve confiscated all the walkie-talkies from security. I guess this is the last trans…”
It apparently was.
“Fuck,” said Art. He did have a way with words.
“We don’t negotiate yet,” said Volont. “We don’t know enough.”
“This isn’t yours,” said Hester. “There are about six hundred people on that boat. This is us and the sheriff only. We have jurisdiction here.”
I would have been just as happy if she had left me and my department out of it. “We’d appreciate your help, though,” I said.
Hester glared at me. I shrugged. She and I had no assets on the ground in this one. Ours were all at the other banks… A lightbulb might as well have come on over my head.
I held up my right hand, and counted on my fingers, out loud. “One, the Frieberg bank. Two, the cash cage on the oh-three deck. Three, the cash cage on the oh-two deck. Four, the cash cage on the oh-one deck. Five, the counting room on the second deck.” I grinned. “That’s our ‘five banks.’ And they’re close together, just like everybody said.”
In the silence, I told Sally to contact the Sheriff’s Department, and have all the troops watching the other areas head for Frieberg. “Ten-thirty-three all the way, please.”
Nobody argued.
“You want the chopper up here, too?” asked Sally.
“Yeah, if it can fly in this stuff. Might as well have her close. The airport across the river will be just fine, if the fog permits. Otherwise, anywhere close they can land.”
“The fog’s just along the river,” interjected Sally. “The higher areas are clear. They don’t have any fog at all in Maitland …”
“Excellent.” I looked at Volont, who was calmly staring out the window, toward the vague shape of the Beauregard. “Trying to do it to us again, isn’t he?”
He didn’t answer.
Art, bless him, was doing his usual muttering to himself, and came up with a good point. “So, how is this supposed to work?” he asked, rhetorically. “I mean, he gets his people out of the