She glanced at Dace, who was reading a note Johnson had written and given to him. “What plan is that?”
“You get the perimeter pulled back. Bring the car up to the back doors. I leave quietly with the cash and, of course, a couple hostages to ensure my safety. We all live happily ever after.”
As fairy tales went, his was particularly far-fetched. There was no way his demands would be met. Before he would be allowed to leave the vicinity, an assault-and-rescue operation would be staged. Such an operation drastically increased the odds of injury to those inside. But she was charged with the task of making sure it never came to that.
“We’re working on that for you, John. We want a happy ending as much as you do. But these things take time. You know what bureaucracy is like, right? And while we’re waiting, you’ve got things to take care of, too. The people inside are going to need to use the restroom soon. Maybe food. Water. We can assist you with that.”
“I don’t give a damn what they need.” The earlier control the gunman had displayed was definitely thinning. “They aren’t my concern.”
“Couple dozen people who can’t use the bathroom can be cause for anyone’s concern,” she returned, injecting a note of amusement into her voice that she was far from feeling. “Especially if they’re all being kept in a small area. Where are they, in the vault? Pretty soon the money’s not going to smell so good.”
There was silence on the other end, leaving Jolie with no idea what the other man was thinking. “If there’s anyone in there who’s injured, John, now’s the time to send them out. Wounded people are just another headache for you.”
Dace touched her arm, handed her the note to read.
“On the contrary, Jolie. Wounded people will soon become your headache. Because if my demands aren’t met by the next time we talk, I’m going to start shooting people in here.”
That got her attention. “You don’t want to do that, John.” Her tone was firm. “I can help you out of this thing. I swear it. But if you harm anyone else in there, your options narrow drastically. You’re smart enough to realize that. I know you are.”
A click was her only answer.
Slowly, she lowered the phone while Dace crumpled the note in his hand. “So there’s a visual of him in the lobby?” That much, at least, she’d been able to read before the HT had reclaimed her focus.
He nodded. “He’s still wearing the mask, which is good news.”
Maintaining his disguise meant he still thought there was a way out of this, so he was taking pains not to be identified. It was when his hopes of walking away alive were dashed that they had reason to worry.
But there was something in the way Dace was regarding her that had trepidation stirring in her belly. “What else?” Whatever it was, there was no doubt he’d give it to her straight. Dace had always been honest to a fault.
I don’t know if I love you. How could I? It’s too soon, for either of us. But I know I’ll love this baby, if you’ll go through with the pregnancy. I’ll do right by it. By both of you. Give me a chance, Jolie. Give us a chance.
His earnest honesty had disarmed defenses that she’d once thought stronger. Had undermined common sense and shredded reason. In retrospect she still couldn’t understand how he’d circumvented a lifetime of caution and compelled her to reach for something she’d never before dared hope for.
“What else?” she repeated, in an effort to shake those memories from her head.
“He had the boy on his shoulders. One hand around both the child’s wrists, to pull him down to drape over his head.”
A chill broke out over Jolie’s arms. She rubbed them absently, muttering, “Smart bastard.” And totally cold, totally unfeeling, to use a child like that. In situations like this, if snipers were used to neutralize a gunman, they went for a head shot to produce instant incapacitation. There was no doubt the HT knew that. He’d positioned the child to protect his brain stem.
“Sounding more and more like someone well versed in law enforcement tactics,” Dace noted grimly.
“Or someone who’s done his homework,” Dr. Ryder put in. “He’s covered every base.”
Skepticism was written on Sharper’s square face. “Hard to believe an LEO would think he could get away with bank robbery.”
“But he has been getting away with it,” Lewis said grimly. “Twelve banks have been hit in a tristate area in the past three months. All have been smaller branches like this one. He’s in and out in under ten minutes. Rough estimates have the take so far at over thirty million.”
Jolie whistled under her breath. Smaller banks would have less cash on hand than their larger counterparts, but they’d also be easier to case. Fewer employees. Lower risk for complications.
Then the full ramification of Lewis’s words struck her. Bank robbery was a federal offense, and if this was one of a series, there was an ongoing investigation. In an undertone, she said to Dace, “How long do you guess we have before the feds step in?”
“I’m sort of surprised they haven’t shown up yet.”
His voice, his expression, was sardonic. He’d never been the Bureau’s biggest fan.
“Have there been any victims in the prior robberies?”
“Three.” Lewis worked a knot out of his shoulder. “So this guy isn’t afraid to leave bodies behind.”
Which was very bad news for them. And even worse for the hostages inside.
The CCL ducked out of the NOC unit to head over to the command center. While he was gone the team added details on the situation board. Using the floor plans of the bank, Johnson showed Sharper the positions of the SWAT personnel. All the known details were drawn in, down to the location of the throw phone. They used sticky notes to add unknowns, like the position of the hostages.
Jolie handed over her list and Sharper started a similar grid on the board.
Lewis returned as they were finishing. Something in his expression alerted Jolie. “We’re arranging to bring in a station wagon to park out front. You know what to do.”
Dace and Jolie exchanged a glance. “What’s the rush?” he asked.
The CCL sat down heavily. “Don’t worry. Mendel is committed to the negotiation process. But the HT has issued two verbal threats and he’s placing a child in danger. We have to be ready to act fast.”
Usually a vehicle was provided only when a tactical resolution was being planned. It caused the HT to leave his surroundings and enter the SWAT team’s controlled environment.
And under any other circumstances, Jolie would be objecting vehemently about rushing the process. But the boy inside being used as a human shield changed things. She still hoped for a peaceful resolution. But she wasn’t going to quibble about being prepared for the alternative.
Of course the HT wasn’t going to be allowed to dictate the terms. There was no way the SUV he’d requested would be brought in. The vehicles were too hard to see into. Had too much interior space. Most likely the station wagon was an older model, and it would be totally messed with. Although the gas tank would show full, it would have very little fuel. The radio would be on full blast, along with the heater, to serve as distractions in case the gunman ever made it to the car.
The likelihood of him getting that far was slim, but every contingency would be planned for.
Next time they established contact with the gunman, they’d work a trade. And since it didn’t seem as though there were any injured inside needing