The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [125]
“‘Greed’ my ass,” I replied. “He’s risking or threatening hundreds of people here. That’s not just greed. That’s a hell of a lot more than just greed.”
“We’ve got activity at the boat,” said Hester, using her binoculars. “A stretch van is backing up to the riverbank.”
We peered into the fog, and could just make out the van as it crossed the railroad track and stopped about ten feet from the river’s edge. There was no real riverbank there, but large chunks of rock had been used as riprap, with the paving running right to the water’s edge. The hull of the General Beauregard was about six feet from the paving. Some vague figures appeared—they must have gotten out of the van on the side away from us—pulled two sections of what looked like some sort of ramp from the rear, huddled over them, and then bridged the gap between the shore and the bow weather deck of the Beau. In the swirl of the fog, I thought I could make out a shadowy figure crouching near the van, with what looked like a shotgun.
There was a lull in observable activity.
“I can’t tell for sure, but I think I count a minimum of nine suspects that I actually saw get out of the van …” said Hester, in a monotone of concentration. “Plus at least three or four already on the boat, one per deck, probably more. Say … about”—and her voice began to pick up inflections again—“fifteen? Total, with a guess at the number in the van …”
“At least,” said George.
“And we’re … what, until reinforcements arrive?” We all looked at the roster. Counting the two local cops, we were nineteen.
“Well, shit, we’ve got ’em outnumbered,” I said.
“Easily,” said Volont.
“What about the other boat agents?” asked George. “How many are working now?”
“One,” said Hester. “Let me check where he is … shit … he should have headed toward the boat when the fire alarm went…”
Harmon James, chief of security for the General Beauregard, came flying into the office, face red, and eyes wide.
“Jesus Christ, they’ve stolen the boat!” He held up his little pocket walkie-talkie. “I don’t know who these people are, but they’re talking to me on my own radio!”
The mystery voice was saying, “… like I said, your security people are all tied up right now …” and uttered a short laugh.
He stopped waving his walkie-talkie and looked at the group of us. “Well, why aren’t you all doing something!”
At that point there was a rolling, basso profundo boom that rattled the windows. We all looked at the boat, and there was nothing. But over at the bank… there was a large area of fog that was slowly turning reddish brown. “Wow! Uh, Alpha One has an explosion at the bank.”
It took me a second. “That’s gotta be brick dust…”
Sally was up on the normal fire frequency, talking to the Frieberg fire chief. “Negative, we have contact with the people in the bank and they will be fine. There are bank robbers in the bank, and there are … are … pirates on the boat. Just get close and stand by.”
George and I both said, “‘Pirates’?” at the same time.
“Well, what would you call them? Boat robbers?” She was embarrassed, but not about to back down. She had a point.
“They’re hauling stuff off the boat,” said Art.
Sure as hell. The van had turned on its fog lights to light the way of two figures pushing a two-wheeled garden cart across the plank.
“Tell me what you have onboard for security,” said Volont to James, the security chief.
“Six security officers. Two female, on this shift. One of the officers is a trained emergency medical technician. Not armed. By law.” He looked disgusted. “Why, you want us to retake the boat?” He stared at Volont. “Who are you, anyway?”
I held up our little diagram. “We have FBI snipers at four locations. The bad guys have hostages in the bank, and they have hostages on your boat. About five in the bank. How many hostages can we figure on the boat? Five hundred?”
“Closer to six hundred right now, maybe six hundred and fifty.” He looked at the diagram, and went up in my estimation about three notches. “You knew about this yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Not about the boat. Just the bank.”
“That