The Big Thaw

24

"This is Volont."

The speaker phone wasn't quite the quality it could have been, but I suspected it hadn't cost the state that much, either.

Gabriel chuckled. "I'm so very glad it's you. We have some business to conduct."

"Not until you surrender the hostages," said Volont.

"No, no. You never understood planning, my boy. No, the way it is is this… my people will drive away from the bank when they signal they've finished their business. They will drive away unmolested. Period."

"Not that easy," said Volont. "As long as they have hostages in there, they don't leave."

"Call the bank," said Gabriel. "Ask to speak to the teller. We had a man pull the fire alarm, to set it off. We wanted some firemen present when we set off the charges to open the drive-thru window. Just in case of fire." He chuckled. "We care about the citizens."

"Won't work," said Volont. "We've got the bank sewed up tight. Nobody leaves."

"Want to do an exchange?" asked Gabriel, lightly. "A lot for a few? Maybe some of your people? I'll give you a great exchange rate. Two of your agents on the street for the one in the bank."

"I think not," said Volont.

"You 'think not,' do you? My, my. I'll have to get back to you in a minute." The line went dead.

Volont reached over and took the microphone from Sally's desk. "All units, be extremely cautious. There may be other suspects in the area, and we have information that leads us to believe they know we have an agent in the bank."

"How'd they ID him?" asked George. "Did they watch him go in?"

Volont shook his head. "He wasn't the one I'd picked, remember? My pick got lost in the fucking fog." He sounded disgusted. "The replacement is Unger. Built like a fullback. Moves like a cat. Looks nothing like a clerk or teller. They probably just took one look and neutralized him."

Sure. The agent in the bank would have been under very strict orders not to endanger anybody, so if they picked him out right away… I would hate to be in the shoes of the "lost" agent when Volont got hold of him.

He resumed his conversation on the radio. "Each post… check your six, very carefully," he said. Warning the agents to make sure there was nobody trying to maneuver into position behind them.

As he put the mike down, a klaxon began to sound in the distance. We all looked toward the bank. No apparent activity there.

"What is that damned thing?" asked Hester.

The phone rang, and Sally answered. We were all expecting Gabriel, I think. She listened for a second, and leapt to her feet, looking out the window toward the General Beauregard. We followed her gaze. Through the thickening fog, we could make out what seemed to be thick green smoke coming from the after section of the boat. Green.

"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. "DO?"

"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 Sheriffs 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 bank… okay… then he gets off the boat with those people… they leave, and we get them, right?" He looked around. "I mean, what's the advantage here? How's he gonna sink the boat after he leaves? Why would he sink it after he left?" He kept tapping his foot on the side of a metal desk, unconsciously. "I don't get this… all we gotta do is watch him leave, and hustle the people off the boat…"

Good point. One I somehow was sure Gabriel hadn't overlooked.

"Let's get boat security up here," said Hester. She spoke to Art. "Get our bosses informed, and get supervisors and hostage negotiators on the way. Get a second TAC team, too."

"Maybe," said George, "we should call the bank like Gabriel suggested we do?"

George always comes through in a pinch. Volont just nodded at him. George waved his hand at Sally. "What's the number of the bank?"

Sally, who was on the phone to our office, getting everybody heading our way, simply reached over and threw the phone book at him. In itself it was no big thing, inasmuch as the phone book for all of Nation County is less than an inch thick. But it was the thought that counted, and it helped to break the tension. Especially since George was caught off guard, and missed the book.

Our secure radio came back to life. "CP from Alpha Two? Two things, up there. One is that, ah, we have another truck backing toward the bank. And there seems to be a problem on that gambling boat…" Alpha 2 was about 100 yards closer to the boat than we were. They apparently could see her, anyway.

"Yeah, and Alpha Mobile has the new truck, too. Straight truck, double axle, with a lift gate."

Maybe they were going to take the change as well. Regardless, it sure looked like they weren't worried about time.

"I've got the teller on the line," shouted George. Since nobody else was talking at the time, it sounded sort of strange. "She says," he said, in a more normal tone, "that everybody is just fine, and that they are going to set off another explosion." He held his hand up for silence. Nobody was talking. "Uh-oh, I've got a fireman coming to the phone now…"

"Calm down," said Volont.

George looked surprised. He hadn't realized he was shouting. "I see… I see… yes, that's very considerate, isn't it? Yes…"

He looked up. "The firemen say that they've been allowed to watch, and that the bad guys are going to take out a section of wall with explosives, so they can load straight into the truck on that side. That they will seek shelter in the vault, and that the firemen are supposed to be ready in case of fire." He was back on the phone. "Right, all right. Yes, we will…"

The secure radio came back up. "Alpha Three can see inside the new truck… and it looks like they have one of those… oh… portable forklifts… a dolly forklift? It's near the back of the truck, and they seem to have like fifty-five gallon drums in the back…"

"Jesus," said Art. "They gonna blow up the whole bank?"

Volont turned on him. "Of course not. The drums are likely empty and will be used to contain cash. So the fork-lift can move them quickly." He spoke to Sally. "Tell the units to expect a section of wall to go with a minimal explosion. That we've been forewarned."

"CP to all units," she broadcast, "we have been informed that the suspects intend to blow a hole in the bank wall. They say not to worry about anybody inside."

Well, that was to the point.

"Tell Alpha Chase to have the fire department roll toward the bank," said Volont, "and have a pumper go near the boat. Tell 'em not to cross the river road, but to stand by right close."

Sally did as she was told. Cool, calm. It was absolutely necessary for her to be that way. Any sign, even the slightest, of panic on the control net, and things could go to hell in a basket. As if they hadn't already.

"You were right about him needing money," I said to Volont. "Looks like they're going for the coins, as well." I paused, waiting for a response. None came. "You're going to have to tell me just why he's in such goddamned desperate need of cash," I said. "This is ridiculous."

"Greed" was all he said.

"'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's almost worse," he said.

"Sally, get an ETA for the reinforcements, would you?" Hester pulled her service weapon, and checked the chamber. A Glock 9 mm. "I think we should act as soon as possible."

The phone rang. Sally put it on speaker. It was Gabriel.

"So," he said, "now you know how it's going to go. We won't hurt anyone unless it's absolutely necessary. We will proceed according to our plan, and you can just watch." I could tell he was grinning.

Before Volont could answer him, I just said, "Well, okey-dokey."

There was a brief pause. "Who was that?"

"Houseman," I said. "Hello again."

"Ah, my favorite deputy! Haven't seen you since you snooped around Borglan's. I'm honored."

"Thanks." The fuzziness in my photos must have been Gabriel hightailing it out of there. Confirmation of my paranoia…

"I fear this won't look good on your record, Deputy." He had to be still grinning. "What brings you here?"

"I'm here to arrest you for murder."

"Ah. A sad business. But business can be risky, sometimes. Let me speak with Super Agent Volont."

"I'm here," said Volont.

"I know you're there, you sad bastard. I just hope you can remember what I'm going to tell you. Are you listening?"

Silence.

"I know you are. So. We will leave the boat, first. Well, most of us. One or two of us will stay behind. For a while. Long enough to ensure you don't do something silly when the rest leave the bank." He paused. "Are you getting this?"

Volont wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of an answer. "I am," I said.

"Well, I don't give a fuck about you. You're just a deputy in Nowhere County. Agent Volont's the one who's important here. Aren't you?"

Believe it or not, Volont sort of brightened up at that. "I've taken down all you've said."

"Then pay even closer attention to this. We are in constant communication between each other. If my men from the bank, or from the boat, are followed, the boat goes down. With all the passengers."

"Got it," said Volont.

"Good day," said Gabriel, and the conversation was over.

"And who the fuck was that?" asked James, of boat security.

We kind of told him.

Our radios came to life again.

"CP, Alpha Foot's over by the boat, now. We're in a good position for the van."

"CP, Alpha One has a clear shot at the pilothouse, if you need it. We and the top of the boat are in lighter fog…"

They sounded very professional. Well, they should have. They were. And that got me thinking about professional versus amateur. Us versus them, as it were. We were pros. Even us deputies from "Nowhere County." I have to admit, that pissed me off. Besides, there were about a half-dozen deputies from "Nowhere County" on the way. Along with several state troopers and a state TAC team. And a federal TAC unit in a Huey. Resources. A bunch of 'em.

"Hey?" I interrupted at least two conversations. "Listen up. We're pros, right?"

"We don't need a pep talk," snapped Art.

"Just think about it for a second. Who are these people Gabriel is using for his troops? Think about it."

"So?" Art was having none of this.

"He's got one guy in the bank who knows explosives, right?"

"At least one," said George.

"I'd bet one," I said. "Maybe two on the boat, but for sure one. That's three sharp dudes out of fifteen. Who are the rest of them? Amateurs he's picked up. Nobodies, not when it comes to this stuff."

"They seem to be doing pretty well so far," said George.

"But they haven't encountered any resistance. All the real troops we have are being held on a tight leash. Gabriel counts on that. He knows nobody wants a hostage hurt, so he's betting one hundred percent that he gets a cakewalk, courtesy of us. Right?"

"But, Carl," said Hester, "he's right. We can't risk a hostage. Especially with Gabriel on the boat. He will do the deed, and we know that."

"Think this way. He's got, what, three guns, two or three drivers at the bank, right? That's six of them, with five questionables, against four to six really professional, really capable FBI TAC team members." I looked around. "So, we got 'em outclassed at the bank. Just tell our people there to take out the drivers of the trucks as they leave. We already know he isn't going to leave any of his people behind at the bank. Right? No point."

"But the boat is full of people…"

"Right. But look. We hit the trucks as they leave. Nobody at the boat can see the people at the bank. Not in this fog. So, what do we have there? We shoot, and anybody left alive in the truck either has to sit in the driver's seat and get himself shot, jump off the unit, or hunker down in the damned thing and hide. Piece of cake. We can scarf them up."

"Pointless," said Volont. "That just leaves six hundred or more people on the boat."

"But, unless Gabriel stays behind on the boat himself, if his peons hear that we just took off six of their finest, what are they going to do? Sink the boat? For what purpose? It's tied up at the fuckin' pier, for God's sake. All the passengers have to do is walk off!"

"We always figure seventeen feet under the bottom," said James. "That would swamp the oh-one deck, so all the passengers and crew would have to go to the second and upper deck. That could take some time."

"But not enough for her to turn over, is there?"

"No, I don't think so… look, let me get one of the captains here. He lives just up the street. Five minutes, and he can answer all your questions." He picked up one of the phones.

"Anyway," I said, "he can't sink her instantly. To do that, he'd have to open up the whole bottom. Boom. Probably blow the boat right out of the water if he did that, and he'd kill and injure lots of people. Including the members of his own team. Even himself."

"We can't count on that." But Volont was coming around.

"I think we can," said George. "He's not bluffing. But he'll sink her slowly, because he has to. I mean, fifteen minutes, even… right? Getaway time…"

"That's what I think," I said. "And with them tied up at the pier for the winter months, all they have to do is walk off. What I'm saying is that I think it's a risk we might be able to take. With the shock effect of taking out the trucks as they leave the bank."

"Well, we better hurry," said Hester, "whatever we do. I do know that those little bastards are about as busy as they can get, moving that money into the trucks. We aren't going to have much more time, and we need the fog on our side for a while. I don't know how long that stuff will last."

Sally informed us that the chopper with the TAG team would be above Frieberg in two minutes. They reported zero visibility really near us, but could land on the bridge deck, which was above the fog ceiling.

Volont had been getting hold of himself gradually, since Gabriel's first call. He began to speak with his old decisiveness.

"Have them set down on the bridge." He indicated the playground that had been built for the kids who came with the gamblers. Summer only. "A two-man sniper team to the bridge ramp where they can command the best exit from the bank. Four to the boat. Have Alpha Chase pick ' em up. Leave the rest with the chopper." He smiled. "Wouldn't want anybody to steal our Huey."

"I think they might be done at the boat," said Hester. "We're gonna need a decision pretty soon…"

I really thought that Volont was ready to take out the trucks. I really did. And he might have, if Gabriel hadn't had another little surprise for us.