Hostage - Страница 9

Kim having pulled a gun would mitigate nothing. Under California law, any death occurring during the commission of a felony was murder, but Talley needed to give Rooney some measure of hope. It did.

Rooney said, 'What about the police officer? He went for his gun, too.'

'He's still alive. You caught a break there, Dennis.'

'Don't you forget I've got these people in here. Don't you guys try to rush the house.'

Some of the edge had gone from Rooney's voice.

'Dennis, I'm going to ask you right now to let those people go.'

'No way.'

'You're ahead of the game as long as they're not hurt. The police officer is alive. You said Mr. Kim pulled a gun on you. Just let those people walk out.'

'Fuck that. They're the only thing keeping you from blowing us away. You'll kill us for shooting that cop.'

'I know you're feeling that way right now, Dennis, but I'm going to give you my word about something. We're not going to storm the house. We're not coming in there by force, okay?'

'You'd better not.'

'We're not. But I want you to know what you're facing out here. I'm not telling you to threaten you. I'm telling you to be straight up. We have officers surrounding the house, and this neighborhood is locked down. You can't escape, Dennis; that just isn't going to happen. The reason I'm out here talking to you is that I want to get out of this thing without you or the people in that house getting hurt. That's my goal here. Do you understand that?'

'I understand.'

'The best thing you can do to help yourself is to let those people go, Dennis. Let them go, then surrender, everything nice and peaceful and orderly. If you're cooperative now, it will look better for the judge later. Do you see that?'

Rooney didn't respond, which Talley took as a positive sign. Rooney wasn't arguing. He was thinking. Talley decided to terminate the contact and let Rooney consider his options.

'I don't know about you, Dennis, but I could use a break. You think about what I said. I'll call back in twenty minutes. If you want to talk before that, just shout, and I'll phone you again.'

Talley closed the phone. His hands were shaking so badly that he dropped it. He took another deep breath and then another, but they didn't help to steady him.

Jorgenson said, 'Chief? You okay?'

Talley waved that he was fine.

The helicopters were still up there, They had set up on fixed points in a hover. That meant they were using their cameras.

Talley put the phone in his pocket, told Jorgenson to call if anything changed, then backed his car out of the cul-de-sac. One conversation with a scared twenty-two-year-old kid, and Talley wanted to vomit. Larry Anders was waiting at the intersection along with two more of his officers: Scott Campbell and Leigh Metzger. Campbell was a retired Bakersfield security officer who signed on with Bristo to supplement his pension. Metzger was a single mother who had spent eight years on the San Bernardino Police Department as an instructional officer. She had almost no street time. Seeing them gave Talley no confidence.

'Jesus, Larry, are the goddamned Sheriffs coming here on foot? Where are they?'

'Sarah's been on the phone with them, Chief. She says you should call.'

Talley felt his stomach clench.

'What's wrong?'

'I don't know. She also says that the newspeople want to know what's happening. They've got reporters at the minimart, and they're on their way here.'

Talley rubbed his face, then checked his watch. It had been fifty-three minutes since Junior Kim was shot. Fifty-three minutes, and his world had collapsed to the size of a subdivision.

'When the newspeople get here, let them into the development, but don't let them come here to the cul-de-sac.'

'Ah, there's an empty lot by King and Lady, something like that. Can I put them over there?'

'Perfect. And don't let them wander around. I'll get over there in a few minutes and make a statement.'

Talley went to his car, telling himself that everything was fine. He had established contact, found out that all three subjects were in the house, and no one was shooting. He opened his car and felt the heat roll out as if from an oven. He was so drained that he didn't care. He radioed his office.

'Give me some good news, Sarah. I need it.'

'The Highway Patrol is sending six patrol units from Santa Clarita and Palmdale. They should be about ten minutes out, and inbound now.'

Patrol units.

'What about a tactical squad and the negotiation team? We need to get those people deployed.'

Talley sounded strident, but he didn't care.

'I'm sorry, Chief. Their response team is hung up in Pico Rivera. They said they'll get here as soon as possible.'

That's just fucking great! What are we supposed to do until then?'

'They said you'll have to handle it yourself.'

Talley held the mike in his lap without the strength to lift it.

'Chief? You still there?'

Talley pulled the door shut, started the engine, and turned on the air conditioner. Anders and Campbell looked over when they heard the engine start, then seemed confused when he didn't pull away. He turned the vents so they blew the cold air into his face. Talley shook so badly that he pushed his hands under his legs, feeling frightened and ashamed. He dug his fingers into his thighs and told himself that this wasn't Los Angeles, that he was no longer a negotiator, that the lives of the people in the house did not rest with him. He only had to hang on until the Sheriffs took over, and then he could go back to his orchard and the perfect peace of its stillness. It was only a matter of minutes. Of seconds. He told himself that anyone could hang on for seconds. He told himself that, but he didn't believe it.

CHAPTER 4

Friday, 4:22, P.M.

DENNIS

Dennis slapped down the phone, livid with an anger he could barely contain, shouting, 'Fuck you!'

Talley thought he was an idiot, all that shit about wanting a peaceful resolution and promising not to storm the house. Dennis knew the score when it came to cops: A cop was down, so somebody had to pay. The bastards would probably assassinate him the first chance they got without ever giving him a chance to stand trial. That bastard Talley probably wanted to pull the goddamned trigger himself. Dennis was so pissed off that he felt sick to his stomach.

Mars said, 'What did they want?'

'What do you think they want, Mars? Jesus, they want us to give up.'

Mars shrugged, his expression simple.

'I'm not giving up.'

Dennis glared at the two kids huddled around their old man, then stalked out of the office. He needed to figure a way out of this fucking house, and away from the police. He needed a plan. Walking made it easier to think, like he could get away from the fear of being trapped; a big-ass house like this, and it felt as if the weight of it was crushing his breath away. If he threw up, he didn't want to do it in front of Mars.

Dennis crossed through the kitchen, searching for the garage. He found the keys on a Peg-Board in the pantry just like the man had said, and shoved open the door to the garage. A gleaming Jaguar sedan and Range Rover were waiting, neither more than a couple of years old. Dennis checked the gas in the Jaguar, and found the tank full. If his truck had broken down only five minutes sooner, if they had found this house only five minutes sooner, if they had driven away in this sweet Jaguar only five minutes sooner, they wouldn't be sweating out a murder count. They wouldn't be trapped.

Dennis smashed his fist into the steering wheel, shouting, 'SHIT!'

He closed his eyes.

Chill, dude.

Don't lose it.

There has to be a way out.

'Dennis?'

Dennis opened his eyes and saw Kevin in the door, squirming like he had to pee.

'You're supposed to be watching for the cops.'

'I need to talk to you. Where's Mars?'

'He's watching the front like you're supposed to be watching the back. Get out of here.'

Dennis shut his eyes tight. The cops were watching the front and back of the house, but it was a big house; there had to be a window or door that the cops couldn't see. The house was surrounded by trees and bushes and walls, all of which blended and merged with the heavy cover of the surrounding houses. When night came, the shadows between the houses would fall like heavy black coats. If he created a diversion -say, he dressed up the hostages to look like Mars, Kevin, and himself, tied them into the Jaguar, then used the remote control to raise the garage door- all the cops would be watching the garage as he slipped out the other side of the house and away through the shadows.

'Dennis?'

'We're looking at murder charges, Kevin. Let me think.'

'It's about Mars. We've got to talk about what happened.'

Kevin wore the pussy face again, the mewly lurching eyebrows and don't-kick-me expression that made Dennis want to punch him. Dennis hated his younger brother and always had; hated the suffocating weight of having to carry him through life. He didn't need the prison shrink to tell him why: Kevin was their past; he was their weak ineffectual mother who abandoned them, their brutal meth-head father who beat them, their pathetic and embarrassing place in life. Kevin was the shadow of their future failure, and Dennis hated him for it.

Dennis got out of the Jaguar and slammed the door.

'We've got to find a way out of here, Kevin, that's what we've got to do. It's that simple. We look for a way out of this goddamned house because I am not going back to jail.'

Dennis pushed past his brother, unable even to look at him. Kevin followed along behind. They went through a kitchen, then along a wide hall past a formal dining room to a den with lush leather couches and a beautiful copper bar. Dennis imagined himself serving drinks to beautiful guests who had stepped out of television commercials and porno tapes. He would be a player if he lived in a house like this. He would have become the man of his destiny.