Constant Fear

CHAPTER 30

Leo Haggar, the FBI’s special agent in charge of the hostage crisis, commandeered the largest conference room at the Winston PD for his team’s tactical-operations center. Lining the walls were maps of Winston and Pepperell Academy, adorned with pushpins to denote the location and type of assets deployed. More than a hundred feet were on the ground, and that number would grow. Haggar’s Red Unit mobilized to this sleepy little hamlet in excellent time.

The Red, Blue, and Gold Units comprised the three tactical teams that formed the FBI’s HRT. These units were part of the tactical-support branch of the FBI’s Critical Incident Response Group (CIRG). They were the elite of the elite, a national SWAT team that trained for the most dangerous missions.

Even at fifty-five, Haggar could blend in just fine with the supremely well-conditioned men under his command. He had close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, broad shoulders, and a thick waist to support his powerful legs. If Haggar had a spirit animal, it would most certainly be a silverback gorilla, which also shared his fierce disposition. His face was square, with creases that ran the length of his forehead. A pair of frosty blue eyes gave the distinct impression that Agent Haggar was never truly pleased, which was often the case. Two long lines framed a dimpled chin and seemed to pull his mouth into a permanent scowl. No doubt about it: Leo Haggar was an intimidating presence even when he wasn’t wearing his bulletproof FBI tactical gear.

Haggar had been at home, helping his teenage son with pitching mechanics, when his boss called to report a hostage crisis at a prep school.

There was a threat of a dirty bomb, and Haggar knew he’d soon initiate deployment protocols of his Red Unit.

His son’s coaching would have to wait.

The motto of HRT was “Servare Vitas” (“To Save Lives”) and Haggar focused on the most pressing challenge: how to neutralize the threat and retrieve the hostages unharmed. No simple task-but if anybody could do it, it would be HRT.

The elite force had evolved from a simple observation made in the late 1970s, after then-FBI Director William Webster watched a demonstration of the capabilities of the U.S. Army’s Delta Force. Webster asked why the men didn’t carry any restraints.

“The dead don’t need handcuffs,” a Delta operator had replied.

The two dozen or so highly trained hostage-rescue specialists included fearsome assault and sniper teams. Two helicopters from the Tactical Helicopter Unit (THU), a Bell 412EP and UH-60M Black Hawk, were parked at the same private airfield where the transport plane carrying the HRT forces had landed. From there, it was only a short drive to Winston, and the state police used a convoy of tactical-response vehicles to help get the Red Unit into position.

Jurisdiction was no longer a question. The state and local police were on hand to lend support, but this was the FBI’s show. The HRT’s credentials were unchallenged. Only a handful of special agents made it through the rigorous selection process, which included eight months of intensive training before their first mission deployment. They were skilled in tactics, firearms, and, most important, teamwork. This mission, it seemed, would tax every one of those disciplines to the extreme.

So far, Agent Haggar was not about to take any chances. He commandeered forces already deployed; and following the hostage taker’s instructions, he established a perimeter two kilometers from the school. It was not an impossible distance for a highly skilled sniper equipped with a long-range rifle. But the sight lines were terrible unless they moved closer, which risked exposure. And even if they took out one of the targets, there was no telling how many others were holed up inside the school. The campus had at least thirty buildings. The targets could be spread out in different buildings, and any of them could possess the ability to trigger the bomb.

Specially equipped aircraft were already scanning the nearby area for radioactive signatures, but that process was a bit like finding the haystack so they could then go looking for a needle. They needed more information. Who were these people? Terrorists? If so, why did they take students as hostages? And which students did they take?

A roll call was in process to account for all of the students, but the effort was proving cumbersome. Some of the students were legitimately away; others might have gone home rather than to the designated evacuation zone; still, others might have taken advantage of the free time to roam and play. It was a sloppy evacuation process from Haggar’s point of view, and it could be hours before they had a definitive list of hostages.

At least for the moment, nobody was going near the school until Haggar had more information. He had been involved in several lengthy hostage barricades, and understood they could be physically and mentally challenging. Haggar knew they were in for the long haul.

A knock on the door drew Haggar’s attention. Ellie Barnes entered in her police uniform, while Haggar was dressed for war. Haggar had been expecting this visit. Ellie’s boss, William Bladd, the chief of police for the Town of Winston, had arranged the meeting. He told Haggar that Ellie was one of his best cops, and she evidently had some vital information to share.

Haggar shook Ellie’s hand and invited her to sit down. Ellie spent a moment standing, gawking at the array of maps and intel wallpapering the room.

“It doesn’t mean shit,” Haggar said. “Looks impressive, but it’s nothing. This is the first minutes. When we’re done, all that will matter are the results. Freed hostages, a defused bomb, and no dead except maybe for the assholes who did this.”

“Understood,” Ellie said. “Do we have any idea who these people are?”

Haggar’s mouth dipped into a sour frown. “No clue. We have a team at Quantico analyzing the voice recordings. All I can tell you right now is the guy who called in the threat sounded Mexican. So what do you got for me?”

Haggar moved a chair so Ellie could take a seat.

“I called in a concern I had about the ex-husband of the woman who was shot.”

Haggar glanced down at his notes. “Laura Collins, is that right?”

“Yes. I’m-I’m friends with Jake Dent, Laura’s ex.”

“And you were concerned because why?”

“Because I thought Jake might do something in retaliation for what happened to Laura. He was also worried that his son was missing, and he couldn’t get in touch with several of his son’s friends.”

“Does he think his son is a hostage?”

“It’s definitely a concern.”

“Have you given those names over to our team? The son’s friends, I mean.”

Ellie nodded. “Yes, of course. I told my lieutenant and he said he’d relay the information to the FBI.”

That intel hadn’t made it to Haggar. A clog in the pipeline he’d clear by ripping somebody a new asshole.

“Jake Dent-do you know where he is now?”

“That’s the thing,” Ellie said. “I can’t get in touch with him. Before your team got here, I brought up my concern about Jake to the state police and they sent two detectives to follow him.”

Haggar scowled. He should have been briefed. The size of the asshole he was going to rip just grew. “Did they find anything?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Ellie said.

Haggar got on his phone and within minutes got an earful from a detective about being left on a lengthy stakeout for what was certainly a dead end. Jake Dent had gone into his home hours ago and nobody had come out. They even canvassed the woods behind his house. The car was there, TV was on, and the shades were drawn. Haggar didn’t like that one bit. He knew nothing about Jake Dent, but he did know something about being a dad.

“Try to coax him out for a chat. Hell, see if he’s even there for goodness sake,” Haggar barked into the phone. There was a pause while Haggar listened to some response. “Call me back when you get some useful information,” Haggar said before ending the call.

“We can go in other ways,” Ellie suggested. She was tiptoeing on a line that wasn’t frequently crossed. The FBI was a stickler for rules and procedures-in part because the organization operated under the microscope of media scrutiny, but also because they were tasked with upholding the law, not breaking it.

“I’ll get a warrant if it comes to it,” Haggar said. “In the meantime, I’m going to learn everything about Jake Dent that’s possible to know.”